"Equus Enlightenment"

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I am posting this under complete and utter duress....Just thought I should clear that up.

Feel free to bypass this post completely. Really, I promise.

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"Equus Enlightenment"

A horse gallops with its lungs, perseveres with its heart, and wins with its character.
~ Tessio ~

Looking back, the obsession begins in one of my earliest memories. As a child growing up in “the west” we would often have the opportunity to visit strange and unusual attractions, where the horse was always a central figure. One such occasion was Pawnee Bill’s Wild West Show. My father, being a reporter for the local radio station, was given passes for the entire family to attend. I must have been very young, because my memories are patchy and vague, with mere highlights coming clear in the fog of blurred thoughts. One is the picture of Dad interviewing an actor while I stood by, transfixed and in awe of this huge creature being held and controlled so effortlessly by a few thin pieces of leather. To my terror, the actor asked if I wanted to ride the horse. Given a choice I would have likely refused, but the decision was not left to me, as I was picked up and casually placed on top of this mountain of moving and breathing animal. While scared out of my wits for a while, the seed of horsemanship had forever been planted. Once sown it has grown prodigiously through the years.
My next clear memory of equine importance is many years down the road in my late childhood/early teen years, when our neighbors made the world changing (to me) decision to own a couple of horses. The horses were vastly different in age, breed and temperament. But my first real equine friendships were formed in the countless hours I spent in the nether regions of their pasture with that tiny, stubborn welsh pony and that tall, gentle thoroughbred/quarter horse cross. Up to that point the horse had been a creature of awe and an amazing testament to the wonders of creation, but for the first time I was able to see the nobility of the equine species. To witness and interact with the individual personalities and experience the uniqueness of fellowship that can be developed between the human and the horse. This was about the same time that I began reading the books of Dr. James Harriott. Those books were one of the most revealing moments in my life. While he never really dwells on the horse, his entire series is about the veterinary profession and the joys and frustrations involved. Up to this point, I had known that I wanted to work “with animals,” and that I wanted to focus on the horse, but this was the first time I had heard of an actual job where it would be acceptable to muck around with animals all day and it absolutely thrilled me. The horses eventually died or were sold off, and the thrill of the books has faded, but the driving goal remains, redefined and clearly out-lined.
I had made it a point to keep the study and experiences with horses fairly frequent, but as we had moved around, I hadn’t had the same close connection with a horse until my family moved to Branson, Mo. While not technically “west,” the town prides itself on being western oriented. Therefore, my employment while there naturally brought me into contact with horses once again. The first was at the outdoor theatre at the Shepherd of the Hills. In the play, there were over sixty horses used nightly. I worked in the ticket office, but my heart and thoughts were down the hill at the stables. More often than not, I was also down the hill, soaking in the environment and learning from the crusty old horsemen that ran the stables. The pecking order in our herd was very clearly laid out, with the one stallion at the top and Wayne and I on the very bottom. He always said he liked it that way, but I was never able to form any true loyalties among the horses, being viewed as the least of the herd. However, I would never trade my time there for the world. I learned more about horses in the herd and the care and upkeep of the pasture-kept horse in those two short years than I could have learned from a lifetime of books.
While in Branson I also was employed by the Dixie Stampede. Two more opposite horse operations you could hardly imagine would reside in the same area. At Dixie, the horses were kept in large box stalls, completely groomed after each performance, and fed a measured amount each day. No pasture kept, wild herd here. (Although the horses were rotated every six months to the ranch for a pasture turn out rest period.) Here they were completely reliant on the humans for every essential element. I worked in the show, rather than with the horses, but again my true self was hanging around the stables. I would come early and leave late, just to have extra time with the unique personalities that were the shows real stars. They also had a stallion, but he was not the leader of the herd, unless you count the legions of adoring fans that would crowd his stall after the shows. He was a huge black Friesian, imported years ago from Friesland, a province of the Netherlands, for this specific show. Of all the animals I have had contact with; he was the most intelligent of them all. He would open his stall door, do tricks for treats and respond when you spoke to him. The things that he alone taught me would fill an entire book.
Through the years, I have chosen to educate myself with study and experience, until the adoration and awe of my childhood has developed into an obsession and true respect for the singularly exceptional qualities that make up the equine species. More familiarity and better research has also served to evolve the indistinct objective of “working with horses” into a distinct and clear destination. Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, Equine Surgery Specialist, is now my ultimate goal. While the schooling involved is daunting, (nine years, not counting Bible School) and the end result is so far distant as to be practically inconceivable, the drive remains. The seed planted all those years ago has grown to a mature and healthy tree, whose branches spread to shadow every part of my life and whose roots infiltrate every decision made. Although I can scarcely visualize myself in the reality of my profession, I can easily see my old and retired self, living out my life on a large property populated primarily by horses. Ronald Reagan often said, “There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” And I would add “a woman.” All breeds, colors, sizes and ages, the horse in all its majesty will be a part of my life from beginning to end.

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My deepest apologies if you are still with me.

Please, come back another time. I promise it won't happen again.

LadyAnne