By way of an introduction to this reflective work, I wanted to tell you that I work alongside Andy, in a role far, far removed from the equestrian world. Yet there is a kind of knowing between us — a shared look of understanding, perhaps even a mutual longing to be outside when we’re heading into the classroom.
We grab those moments whenever we can: a quick chat about horses, experiences both good and bad, the triumphs and the challenges, and, increasingly, the aches — quite literally the aches — that come with getting older. We laugh about them, grimace over them, and then get on with our day.
But I love and treasure these conversations. They are little moments of connection to a world that means so much to both of us, and a reminder that, sometimes, you don’t have to say very much at all to know that someone else understands. I trust you have someone to share these moments as well.
Enjoy.
Not Entirely Lost by Andy MacDougall
I can’t really remember being crazy about horses when I was very young but I certainly fell deeply in love with them and the sport when I got my first pony. Driving past Lower Plenty Pony Club on the way to my grandfather’s farm in Panton Hill, became the gateway to my equine love affair. My father, who had had horses when young, stopped at the club one Sunday afternoon to enquire about a pony ride for his eight year- old daughter. No rides as it was owners only. Of course, said the District Commissioner, there is an old pony for sale – the next week he was mine. The following twenty-five years were filled with more horses, saddles, chaff and competitions. Then children arrived.
At sixty-one years of age the sound of bits rattling together when my husband brought them in from the shed sparked a longing to get back in the saddle. Finding the right teacher was difficult and took time. Once settled with a wonderful coach and a safe mount – nerves abound as an older rider as opposed to “if it stands still I’ll jump it” young self – the new journey began. I’m drawn back each week by everything: the nicker, the sweaty smell, the ears, the leather, the comfort of the saddle.
My children rode for a short time and I would take my daughter’s horse for a trail ride when I was in my forties. It was lovely riding through the bush but teenagers choose other paths and command your attention so the riding was again put on ice. My love of horses never wavered but I never thought I would be seriously back in the saddle. Those bits!!
The return to riding meant a sore arse and tired muscles but the sense of achievement was profound. Something that I had been reasonably good at had not been entirely lost and I took many lessons over the first couple of years of my return. These were highly disciplined dressage lessons – jumping no longer an option for a sixty something nervous Nellie. In my heart and head I would still be jumping and eventing but fear of broken bones is real.
Dressage was always something to get over and done with and onto the cross-country. My older self now appreciates the discipline absolutely and I love trying the difficult movements. I am fortunate to ride a school master who is at Prix St George level. The most important thing is that he has a wonderful nature and endless patience. He is easy to love, even though he is not mine. Phoenix loves his end of lesson treats.
A few years ago I bought a medium level dressage Warmblood gelding. A big boy with very large hoofs. I sold him after nearly twelve months due to a few undisclosed problems, yes, he was x-rayed but his problem was his temperament on the ground. I felt I was too old to work through this and rearing and requiring an anti-rearing bit are not my style. On reflection I had no rapport with this horse. I didn’t love him like I had all the others.
Lessons have continued for me since I sold my horse, though I am currently in a hiatus for a few months due to spinal surgery. I am itching to sit astride, even walking will be enough for the time being. So, to anyone considering recommencing or taking riding up – just do it. It is a wonderful thing – the whole thing. Horses teach you to be patient and horses, and all animals, need our respect. They are sentient beings and will love you in return.
