Four years ago, I listed my horse for sale.
I’d owned him about a year and was maybe experiencing some buyer’s remorse. This gangly off-track Thoroughbred was proving to be a heck of a lot of work. Outside of getting him going under saddle, just keeping him alive was a full-time and expensive endeavor. I spent the first year of owning this one – one I had intended to resell – trying to get to the bottom of his health ailments.
Once we had a diagnosis, I learned quickly how to help him. Suddenly I had a different horse – a willing, athletic partner (who still had plenty of green moments). But this new promise filled my head with ideas – perhaps this was the best time to find him a good permanent home.
Writing the sales ad was easy. This big red horse had quickly worked his way into my heart with his quirky personality and kind nature. He certainly had a lot of going for him. I posted the ads and started fielding inquiries, quickly sussing out the tire kickers and inexperienced owners. A few potential people rose to the top of my list.
But then I started getting cold feet.
This horse fell into my lap after a mare I had owned for years suddenly passed away. I thought having a project to work on would help me through my grief. But I was naive at the time to think I wouldn’t get attached.
Even through all the vet appointments, and watching this poor horse suffer at first without knowing how to help him, something in the back of my head told me not to sell. Not yet, anyway.
I kept the sales ads up, but plugged away with his training. We went to his first horse show. And then another one. Weeks passed and then months, and the potential I saw that drew me to this horse in the first place slowly became reality.
Fast forward four years, and I’ve hit training and competition milestones with this horse I’d dreamed about since I was a little pony-obsessed girl. Our bond only grew, on the ground and under tack, too. And what an amazing feeling it was to develop that over the years.
As an adult amateur rider, it took a little longer to get there, but in retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t sell. Perhaps a smarter horseman would have cut their losses and moved on. But in the end, I got an equine partner who has made me feel like anything is possible. And he taught me more in this timeframe than any other horse in my life prior.
I didn’t give up on him when he needed his human most. And he’s repaid that favor, tenfold.
Photo by Amanda Summer Moore