I Smell Horse

As we drove down the white-railed country drive, I stopped, stuck my head out the window and said to my neighbor, "I smell horse."

I love that smell.

A pony was the first thing my dad bought us when we moved to the country in 1966 and I have been with a horse more than without one my whole life. I lived on the back of a horse as a child. It has only been in the last couple of years we have been without some sort of equine.

I am lucky enough though to be surrounded by horsey friends. My neighbor, who also grew up on a horse, and I were going to a drill team performance at a nearby farm to watch our friend. She has been involved in The Irish Glen Drill Team for a couple of years now. Made up of about 10 women, they meet once a week at an idyllic farm with a kick ass arena. Did I sat that?

Here is a picture of my friend and her horse "Ren"........

Now Ren......let's just say he has been a challenge and made my friend earn this day. I remember saying to her at some point, "Why don't you find another horse?"

She got this sweet, sappy look on her face and said, "But he's my baby."

Here is her baby.......Isn't he handsome?

Let this be a lesson. Never listen to my advice. I don't know what I'm talking about.

I didn't get any pictures of the drill team because I couldn't use a flash and couldn't figure out how to turn it off. Don't ever make me the official photographer of anything.

So I'll have to tell you about it.

As the first two horses came out to the music, carrying the American flag, I got a tear in my eye. Put music to anything and I will cry. But I quickly composed myself because I didn't want my neighbor to think me deranged.

We enjoyed a wonderful display of women in tune with their horses. My friend's Ren was a perfect gentleman. He was calm and relaxed, listening for the next cue. He effortlessly moved in to the smoothest lope and seemed to really be enjoying himself.

When I saw her after to tell her how much we enjoyed it she said,

"Did you see when he didn't go into the canter?"

"Yes," I said. "He was pooing."

Behind her back.

She said,"Oh was that what he was doing? I guess he did good then because usually he stops when that happens."

You try pooing as you are transitioning from trot to canter, smoothly, with a lot of people watching. I'd say he was sensational. I was so proud of all my friend's hard work and, for a second there, I wanted another horse to join this fun drill team. Then I could come and ride at this farm once a week.

Here is a picture of my friend and her horse with my neighbor in the background shopping for a horse.

As we drove home lost in our thoughts my neighbor said, "Man, when they came into the arena with the flag I shed a tear.

She's deranged.