The Way It Used To Be

     Sometimes I feel diminished.  

    I remember the way it used to be, back in the days when we had Miniature Horses, and the freedom to share time with the rest of the world.  today, the minis have crossed the rainbow bridge, and the insurance companies dictate what we can do - which is very, very little.

    There was a time when we visited nursing homes, attended festivals, lectured at libraries, and even marched in parades.  (I admit parades were never my favorite - but anyway...)  For a few years the Puyallup Fair paid us to present our Exmoor Ponies to the public.  That was exhausting, but memorable fun.  We spread the word about our wonderful rare breed animals. 

    It wasn't always the Miniature Horses who were trailered out for day trips.  Our Shire draft horse, Mac, was a special hit with the nursing and assisted living homes.  The minis are adorable, but Mac could brighten the face of many seniors living his or her last years in a facility.  We discovered there was noting like a draft horse to create delight, and bring out memories of days farming with the big animals. 

    Today we don't have a draft horse, any more than a Miniature or an Exmoor.  Bonnie was our last draft and she passed away a year ago.  She never made any outside visits.  I think she would have enjoyed the attention.  Draft horses are big loves.  

    I remember a number of festivals where we were invited at the last moment.  I think it was a Federal Way City festival where I was expected to bring a cart and pony.  A week before the event I suddenly realized that the two minis I had intended to bring were unavailable.  Shadow had come up lame, and Peach was pregnant.  I looked out in the pasture.  I had eight days to train a mini to pull a cart, then present the horse in public.  Mischief, a sorrel pinto, was my candidate.  She was an apt pupil.  She took to driving as if she had been born to it.  (Maybe she was.)  A week later we were surrounded by people and booths in a large park.  Mischief never put a wrong foot forward, after that single, intense week of training. 

    Sometimes the events were more popular than we expected.  On one memorable library visit the librarians realized the crowd exceeded their expectations.  We were asked to move our program outside.  Fortunately, I had enough helpers to manage the three minis who were part of the program we had planned.  I can't recall the other two horses, but I do remember that Peach was with us this time.  She was a bright chestnut, class B Miniature.  (The B indicated she was more than 34 inches, but under 38 inches at the last hair of her mane.)  I think I had completed the story part of the performance when I realized Peach had disappeared.  I could see the student who was supposed to be holding her lead rope, but Peach was invisible.  I peered closer.  There was a mound of children.  And just barely, I spotted a small patch of red fur.

    Peach was completely covered by children!

    And she was patiently standing completely still.  She might even have been enjoying the attention in a bemused sort of way. 

    Horse shows used to be part of our program, too.  Yes, I competed.  I took dressage lessons at Fox Ridge Farm.  Steve took a few lessons, too, although he never entered a show.  I rode my beloved little PeeChee, and later I showed the draft horse, Mac, under saddle.

    But more than my own outside equine activities, my students took part in some of the local horse shows.  They got some treasured ribbons presenting the Miniatures to the public.  I was proud of them.

    Not only do we no longer have the Miniature Horses, nor the draft horses, nor the Exmoor Ponies, but the world has far fewer venues for people to show horses.  Subdivisions have taken many of the places that were once sites for horse events.

    And the insurance company has taken away our right to show our horses in public anyway.  We are restricted to our property, and even than what we can do is extremely limited.

    Talking to an insurance agent, I was told his company blames the lawyers.  

    Whatever.  The United States is a country that points fingers. 

    The bottom line is, people cannot be educated about horses, nor can those of us who own them, share them without Big Brother stepping in. 

    I admit I don't have the energy for the multiple programs that were part of our past, but I would like to think I could pass the torch to others.  Legally, it is doubtful.

    We still attend the Black Diamond Labor Day festivities, as we have done for almost 30 years.  However, gone are the days when we take a mini or two.  Twenty years ago we offered cart rides, and we participated in the parade.  I can still see Donny, our one-time herd stallion, and later our remarkable little gelding, going up and down a series of eight concrete stairs.  I didn't know horses could navigate steps.  Now we participate in the celebration with only a cardboard cut-out horse that looks remarkably like our Arab, Bay.  I hope the insurance adjusters don't decide that is too much. 

    Going to places without a horse in tow is the best we are allowed to do, and sometimes I worry that will be taken away from us, too.

    Yes, I feel diminished, and a little angry - certainly irate.  Horses need to be shared. 

                                                                Peach

    The mission statement at Friendly Horse Acres is: Horses and humans healing each other physically, emotionally and spiritually.  We will fulfill that mission as long as we are permitted.