My life's work.. in progress

I've been extremely lucky to love many equine pals, each with their own set of challenges. As a 7 year old I learned to ride on a riding school, in hindsight, I desperately wish I could see my pony pals again, knowing what I know now. Kali, Twinkle, Woody, Nutmeg, Chester, Pepi, Charlie and Zippy.. The school horses that safely carried my tiny frame, in group lessons, camps and riding club, they emptied their cups so I could fill mine. They sparked a curiosity in me, that’s now become a huge part of my identity, I don’t know who I would be without it.

We lost some of the school horses to degenerative conditions, some to poor pasture management and nutrition. Twinkle lost an ear in a paddock incident. The “naughty and girthy” ones taught me to listen, although I didn’t know what they were saying.

When my parents saw me unconditionally and tirelessly loving the rescue ponies, even after being double barrelled into the mud, dragged to the feed shed and losing my favourite to Salvation Jane poisoning. Their fear was realised… they’d raised a real horse girl, one of the crazy ones! They gave in and bought me my own pony.

Jewels- My dream come true. A grey, angelic, Welsh x Arab mare. She was so loved by her previous owner, she was experienced and ready to teach me everything. She did just that in our short time together. She was hormonal, didn’t want to be caught, never stayed in her own paddock.. I remember my very non horse Dad and I leading her one night, (well trying haha) us holding the end of the lead while she circled us. We couldn’t get near her. Jewels knew more than I did and she taught me plenty! Unfortunately she broke into the riding club next door and passed away suddenly from aneurism or snake bite. My little heart was broken.

Still, my deepest desire was to connect with horses. The grief didn’t deter me from seeking the relationships I knew were possible with horses. Actually, I think continuing to learn helped the heartache, we keep learning.. for Jewels.

Wonder - an Appaloosa we took for a 2 week trial, rag dolled me what felt like 3 metres into the air in front of my friends and family, breaking my nose but not my spirit… mum returned him to his home, but I was certain, I still didn’t want to go back to dance, it was horses absolutely…

Sir Isaac - A green 4 year old, red bay, Coffin Bay brumby. Forever the love of my life. He arrived in the middle of the night, on a truck from Whyalla, SA, stained with red dirt. His 13.2hh frame could barely hold all of him, powerful and expressive. I put him in his stable and probably didn’t sleep that night, this was it. The deep connection I knew I could tap into, we had all the time in the world and I was going to spend every waking moment, trying to read Issy’s mind.

He was strong and mighty, but I can’t remember a time he ever used his strength against me, I knew he was powerful but he only showed me how gentle he was. He would shy and take me with him, but I felt like he was my protector and I was his (to the best of my abilities at the time). He established my innate belief that your relationship with your horse should feel harmonious, like you’re connected and communicating with your energy at all times. If you can settle their survival responses and allow for their input, acknowledge their concerns and slowly show them you’re a safe space, you find a place of flow, Issy and I lived in that state of flow. Without knowing, I was learning about my own and his autonomic nervous system, I was using pressure and release and fine tuning my timing, at times we used approach and retreat desensitising to water and objects, we may have even accidentally sprinkled some +R in there.. It didn't matter, I also made 1001 mistakes, at times (often) I got frustrated, I used wayy tooooo much pressure, there's so many things I wish I had done differently, better. The moments we took our time, when I was true to myself and him, are the magic moments of my childhood. My 13.2hh war horse, closely related to the Timor ponies who carried soldiers to war, I knew my pony could take me anywhere. Over the years we traveled around the state (I was very lucky to have opportunities and support come my way, despite not having our own transport and I'm forever grateful to all the people who took Issy and I under their wings and into their floats/trucks haha), we competed in eventing, dressage and mounted games through pony club, I pushed him through fear when I didn’t need to, it filled me with the yuck but we learned our way around it. He wore big bits and I wore spurs, we were both scared at times and I hated feeling like I couldn’t connect with him in the big environments, I wanted to be alone in our paddock and take our time, but I also wanted to show everyone how brilliantly capable my wild pony was and all the things we could do together.

Eventually we learned, from our trial and error, we effortlessly blitz the cross country courses that used to fill us both with overwhelm, we galloped bareback and bitless through our paddocks, explored the local trail rides on a loose rein, with a backpack full of his favourite pellets and shared mulberries in our mulberry tree. Loving Issy, is my life’s greatest adventure, a story that means everything to me. I outgrew him when he was only 9, I was asking him to jump fences well over 1m, he had so much to give and I knew I had to share him. He had developed splints, I was a growing teenager and the temptation to continue galloping and jumping with my best bud was too great. He was sold to a young girl with disability, for a few years I heard their stories of the friendship between them and I knew he was giving others the adventures and life lessons he gave me. I think of him often.

Blake - While coming to terms with outgrowing Issy, I was borrowing any horse I could, as the teenager on your agistment going through pony club, you get thrown on anything and truly, I loved all the experience. It was time for me to find my next pal. On a tight budget and ready for a challenge, mum and I were off to look at some off the track thoroughbreds. We found Moozy, a chestnut who actually I don’t remember much about except that once we had him home, he absolutely scared the shit out of me. In hindsight, some vet work, bodywork and horsemanship would’ve no doubt helped, I wish I had the tools to help him but the way he would shift his weight back onto his hind and drum his front legs on the ground, sent shivers down my spine. 14 year old Jas just wasn’t equipped. We continued our search. We came across a paddock ornament recovering after surgery on a bone chip, he was owned by his race trainers wife who absolutely loved him, although he wasn’t suited to her, she wanted a good home for him. We arrived, he bit a hole in my good jacket, I jumped on, he reared and planted his feet and that was it, I was in love all over again. It took a few days to convince my mum this 6 year old, solid built, paddock condition, unsound and green thoroughbred was my next mount, but his owner and I eventually convinced her. He was given to us for free, just in time for my 14th birthday. Blake scared me at times, he would rear, kick and bolt. There were definitely times I felt I didn’t understand him, we still had Issy and Moozy initially and I just wanted to shrink back into my little brumby forever. Once we rehomed them, I spent hours, days, weeks, months and years, getting to know Blake. We found a local horsemanship mentor and sent him off for training, I had a dressage instructor who I really trusted and we slowly built an understanding.

We eventually (through a lot of tears, tantrums, bruises and even broken bones.. the nose again) found ourselves jumping 1.30m fences, riding leg yields and extended trot, he was the snorty, sweaty, big striding thoroughbred I had wished for, although, I couldn’t always help him feel secure, there was always something missing and again… helplessly, I wish I had the tools to learn how to help him and myself back then. He developed arthritic changes / ringbone in his fetlocks, I was 18 and I just couldn’t deal with not being able to help him, navigating growing up and finding a job etc. I rode him for a woman who was offering him a loving, easy, lightly ridden home. I remember feeling so proud of everything he knew, how lovely and light he was to ride and how I knew that if I couldn’t do it for Blake, I wouldn’t have it in me to do it for anyone else. I’d burnt out and I needed to reset, away from horses.

I spent the years following growing up, learning about myself and all that eat, pray, love stuff I guess.. it’s the typical cliché maybe. Through some shitty relationships, no love story coming close to what I had with Issy and Blake. I leased a couple of horses early on but it didn’t fill the spot. I travelled through Hawaii, South America, Europe.. I started a business once I was a qualified hairdresser at 20, that allowed me an income to party and develop a partly unhealthy lifestyle while growing and evolving in a career and community I loved. I found interest in history, philosophy, self improvement and read a lot. I listened to true crime and regularly practiced pilates and martial arts amongst other attempts to maintain a healthy lifestyle, but still really found myself under-stimulated. I developed bad habits, I wasn’t looking after my health, I gained a lot of weight, I smoked a lot of cigarettes and something had to change. I didn't realise at the time but I was still collecting transferrable skills.

Cue Tinker - but that’s a whole other blog post…

Doesn’t every good horse story have that one horse.. you haven’t met him yet, until you’ve read the next blog instalment “Tinkers Teachings” coming soon..