I miss getting up on summer mornings and driving out to the barn and seeing all the hay and dust particles floating in the early morning light. I miss the sounds of the horses snuffling in their hay and banging their feed buckets against the wall.
Most of all, I miss Bandit.
Bandit was unique, to say the least. My Dad loved to pat him really hard right in the center flat area of his head. That was their bonding, I guess. But Bandit was more to me than Dad's giant dog. He had his quirks. We always laughed about how he ate. You dumped his oats in and he would swing the bucket around on the wall eventually flipping it upside down and spilling his grain all over the dirt floor. He would then have to spend time nibbling around to get them up, probably ingesting more sand than anything. Dummy. He also picked fights that he couldn't finish. I'll never forget my just over 15hh horse starting a fight in the geldings' paddock. He picked on the bigger guys, of course. And after they got sick of his nipping and butt sniffing, they would chase him around the paddock as fast as his short little legs would go. This winter day, he actually jumped the over 5 foot fence that kept them in the paddock. In a thick winter blanket. He escaped unscathed and did NOT learn his lesson. He was perpetually covered in scrapes and "ouchies". Bandit loved Fritos. Hence his nickname - Frito Bandito. He also liked Turkey Sandwiches and Starburst. I learned this when my lunch was mysteriously missing from my tack box and he was munching away.
My mom always called the horses our Barbie dolls for the girls that never actually played with dolls. We would dye Tinkerbelle's mane and tail with food coloring. Sometimes blue or pink or purple...or all the colors we had. We spent afternoons just braiding tails or grooming until each coat shone. I told my friends on the high school track team that I learned how to french braid on my horse's ass. My mom was mortified. I don't remember how to braid anymore as I haven't had to in nearly 6 years. Another thing I miss.
I even miss the days of cleaning sheaths and being utterly embarrassed when your relatives surprise you with a visit at the barn. Rachael and I decided to be responsible riders and clean our horses'...man-parts. I had found a print out online that was helpful, although managing to be more humorous than anything. It was titled Mr. Hand. I actually found it again to post here:
Mr. Hand
So, we got our buckets of warm water and our slimy green Excalibur gel. I won't describe the process. You can click the link if you're really THAT curious. I will say that Bandit was NOT impressed nor pleased. So I'm pretty much mid way up my arm reaching under the brat when Aunt Pinky and Aunt Ginny roll up, all excited to see me and my beloved chestnut pony. Yeah. Pretty sure the first words were, "ADDIE! What are you doing?!" And they got back in the car to wait as I cleaned up the supplies and I'm pretty sure Rachael laughed off to the side. Never attempted THAT again.
All kidding aside, Bandit and I have great memories together. Our first event and show. Jumping over 3 feet and feeling like we were flying. Trail rides with our friends, sometimes to Poppey's to get ice-cream.
I miss everything about that booger. He would throw me into fences and drag me over telephone poles, but in the end, we got through all that. We got through his head shy issues and taught each other to be brave. Most of the time, I had to be fake brave and yell so he would just do it. Silly. But I learned to be real brave after a while. I miss how strong he made me feel.
I watch the Olympics now and I find it foolish for people to say "The horse should get the medal. The horse does all the work". It's a partnership. I'd like to see a horse get through those courses alone. The riders need to know what to do both mentally and physically. They are reading these 1,200 pounds animals and sending them flying through the air at the flick of a rein.
That's what I miss.
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