One Fine Day

The word 'horses' was magical in our home. As a young girl I grew up devouring every horse book I could get my hands on. My favorite was 'The Sand Dune Pony', by Troy Nesbit. The book tells the story of a young boy who captures and tames a wild mustang horse. My sisters and I would play Barbie's and horses almost exclusively. We would gaze longingly at the horses in the fields as we sped by in our parents' car. Sometimes we would sit for hours begging mom to retell the stories of her youth with her own horses. Our family's dream was to move to the country and have horses of our own one day.

Every opportunity to be around or ride horses was sought after. We went to friends' homes and rode their horses. We walked to pastures and petted other peoples' horses. But mostly we dreamed of them.

Then one day tragedy struck for me. I was covered in hives. After the excruciating allergy tests were over I was informed that not only was I allergic to almost every kind of grass, tree, weed, dust and several other things, I was allergic to animals and horses !!! It was the beginning of years of allergy shots and Kleenex.

We did lease horses, for a time, we even realized our family dream of living in the country and we even owned horses. But for me it was a kind of torture. I could look, but oh to touch was misery. I did anyway, but I never learned to groom or tack-up a horse. That was all done for me. In fact, my riding was always done in full armor; long pants, sleeves and gloves. Not to mention the drowsy drugs and the wad of at least 20 Kleenex. My rides were always followed by a shower and a complete change of clothes, and then an hour or two of lingering allergy symptoms. Consequently, the only gait I ever managed to learn on a horse was the walk. With the occasional trot or canter for a few steps before I needed to stop to blow my nose. Our dream of living in the country with horses was not really fulfilled for me, yet.

That magical day when I met Nutri-sweet and discovered there was a hypoallergenic breed of horses called Bashkir Curlies, was a turning point for me. I now knew that I could realize my dream one day! It took another five years before I was able, now with a family of my own, to appreciate my dream. We moved to Alberta in the winter of 2002. We purchased a hobby farm of about 18 acres, perfectly set up for horses. Anticipation began. Nutri-sweet was but a memory, but there were other horses out there like her and I was determined to find just the right one for me!

The red mustang convertible came off the trailer in our yard on August 13 th , 20 years to the day I'd met my wonderful husband. She was glorious! A Bureau of Land Management (BLM) authentic mustang!! A hypoallergenic minimal curly, Bashkir Curly horse!! Her name is Ruby, Livingstone's Ruby. And she is better than anything Ford Motors could ever come up with! Ruby is living proof that God, and my husband, care about even the little things.

My journey with Ruby, it has been a journey and will continue to be, has caused me to grow. It was not love at first sight, believe it or not. Don't get me wrong, I thought she looked beautiful, but I was so scared and nervous. She tested me immediately. She would not let me do her feet. She either wouldn't give them to me, or she would kick and jerk them out of my hands. After two weeks I cried in complete frustration and told my husband to sell her! I hated her. This was NOT the dream I had envisioned!!

I smile at all this now because I have learned so much. I have learned patience. I have learned courage. I have learned perseverance and assertiveness. I have learned to understand the language of the horse. Yes, there is one, and it is not like ours. I have learned that Ruby is a wonderfully smart, easy going, and sometimes, stubborn mare. She has been so patient and tolerated so many of my mistakes. She is forgiving. She knows me, and I believe I am beginning to know her. She continues to test me. She baths me with her tongue. She follows me around and gives me her feet whenever I want. She stands wonderfully to be groomed and saddled. She lets me hug her. She doesn't spook easily. She is forever curious and putting her nose in where it shouldn't be. Like under the hand holding the hammer, poised to strike the nail. She turns and looks at me with disdain, but doesn't move a muscle when the saddle slips sideways because I forgot to tighten it before I mount. She gives me those looks. Watching her move is like reliving watching a Black Beauty or Black Stallion movie from childhood. She is my dream horse. And one day I will learn to ride her with confidence.