I love those horse senseless parents. The ones who don’t notice when their son missed his lead change after fence three or that their daughter scotched her last stop by a few feet. There is something so beautiful in a parent who has no idea what to look for when watching you ride, but just loves to watch you do what you enjoy. A parent who says, “Great job, honey!” even after you were excused for going off course.
My mother, however, is not one of those parents. She grew up with horses and started riding again in adulthood when she realized that my “horse crazy” was not just a phase. Though she grew up riding western down in Texas, and I rode strictly English until I started college, she learned quickly and caught on to the do’s and don’ts of the hunter/jumper world. She really listened to what my instructors would tell me in my lessons. She noticed when I was sitting too far back in the saddle and when my stirrups were too long for me to keep my balance and position over the jumps.
Now she is the first voice you hear on the recording of your course or reining run to go, “oh shoot” or “crap” at a fallen rail or a jog step out of a rollback. She will stand there beside me listening to the announcer read off the placings and when they call my back number, she will tell me, “the judge must have seen that you were a couple strides late in the hind on that change.” She will ride with me and come to a halt to remind me to stop carrying my hands in my crotch or that my inside rein is twisted.
When I find myself wishing I had a non-horsey parent who would just be thrilled that I managed to stay on the horse at all, I remember how grateful I am to have someone who gets it. A mom who is proud of me for doing my best even when my best doesn’t get me in the ribbons. A mom who understands I don’t want her to come up and congratulate me after a jumping round that might have ended nicely, but started with me dropping my horse at the base of the first jump and got me four faults for the refusal. A mom who helps me muck out stalls without complaint and laughs when my horse pees as soon as she shuts the door. A mom who I can call in the middle of the night when I am walking a colicky horse, who will ask me about changes in their vitals, when I last administered banamine and how much.
I am beyond thankful to have a parent who will trail ride with me even though it’s way too buggy and she doesn’t like how ornery the western pony gets when he sees a big open hay field. A mom who will laugh at me when I totally eat my distance over a practice fence. And a mom who will take her horse over the jump set up in the arena just because I dared her to. There is nothing better than having a parent who supports your passion and love for horses – unless, of course, you are lucky enough to share it.