The Old Pictures Meme

I got tagged ages ago by Jackie at Regarding Horses  and also by Strawberry Lane with what I'm calling the Old Pictures meme, which was started by Transylvanian Horseman but I think in that iteration it was more of a pictures from a previous life. Transylvanian Horseman has me beat because he was a London subway engineer before moving to Romania.  Of course I can't find the pictures I've been looking for for over a month (swimming with horses in a pond and in the ocean, riding as a baby in diapers, those kinds of things) so I'm going to go for quantity. I hope you enjoy them, though this feels very self-indulgent. You can click on the photos to enlarge, but my position and turnout will not bear close inspection.

Here I am in my cowgirl outfit, complete with plastic pistols, in a pony cart with my mother. Though my pony Dan would pull the cart, this is Diablo, a pony owned by friends. Diablo was well named. My mother seldom had anything to do with the horses, so this is a rare photo of a rare event.

In fourth grade (I think) the horse I was riding, which was Non-Saintly Brother's abandoned barrel racer, gave birth. Here I am showing my foal-handling skills with her filly. I lost this tug-of-war.

Please notice the crowd my performance has drawn (and the hair! I needed a riding teacher). I was probably in eighth or ninth grade and this was my fabulous horse, Picturesque. Her barn name was Spot. This is the horse I wish I could find for Lily, but of course this horse died years ago. Note also the boots, which my father bought large enough for me to grow into. I have yet to grow into them and threw them away last year.

We got Spot from Dale Thiel, a really nice guy and fine horseman who for years ran the Carolina Cup and Colonial Cup Steeplechases, was MFH of the Camden Hunt and a former jockey.  I tried her out in Dale Thiel's ring one day, and the next day I took her foxhunting. I asked Dale what I needed to know. He said, "Keep one leg on each side. Doesn't matter which way you face."

I think everybody owned Spot at one time or another. I would
sometimes be at hunts or shows and people would walk up to the horse, call her by name, pet her and talk to her and not say one word to me. Very, very strange. Especially for a shy teenager. The highest I ever jumped was on Spot -- in a jump-off at a show against my best friend. At 4'3" my friend pulled a rail and Spot didn't. I never tried to jump any higher. Spot was a fabulous horse but not an athlete. She's the only horse (so far, please make it ever) to fall with me. She slipped when she landed after a jump and turned a somersault. Fortunately, I rolled out of the way. Her hindquarters crashed where I'd been. I believe very heartily in rolling away from the horse when you fall.

I don't think Spot was ever lame. She would refuse, she snapped as if to bite when you tightened her girth, and though she was never mean, she wasn't affectionate. We bred her once (at Dale Thiel's suggestion) to a nice TB stallion who threw a lot of color but she never "took."

I gave her to my niece when I had moved on to fancier, more complicated and much scarier horses. She's buried at a farm near here.

She was a horse who should have been cloned. Oh, how I wish Lily could have had her.

More pictures tomorrow. Some even in color!

Comments

[Grey Horse Matters]

Great pictures! Looking forward to more tomorrow.

[Jackie]

I think my favorite part of these photos, even above the boots, is the abhorrence of saddle pads. I used to look at old pictures of my mom showing as a teenager, and thought it was the oddest thing in the world to ride without a pad. I mean, it couldn't have been terribly comfortable for the horse and I'm sure all that sweat wasn't good for the leather. The sacrifices we make for fashion!