Memories of a Goober Called Steve Holt!

Late last week I had not one, but two emails from people interested in coming to see Steve Holt!. I set up the first appointment for noon on Saturday. That evening, the second woman called to set up a time to see him, and I had to tell her that a down payment had been left. Steve Holt! had found a home.

My first good look.
Can you pick him out of the line up?
He's the tall one!

As you can imagine, our emotions are springing and swaying to and fro, from joyful to sad, back to joy again. Naturally, we wouldn't let him go to just any home, it had to be a good fit.

No worries. The woman who came to see him was in love. Head over heels in love. She'd been looking online at mustangs and had no idea that the one handsome bay gelding that she'd so admired was the one she was coming to look at! How's that for fate?

Eating hay and grain from my hands (well, the pan in my hands)
the first week home.

She and Steve Holt! clicked right away. I warned her that his lope was big. From the ground it's not so noticeable, but once in the saddle, she exclaimed with a smile, "Oh, yes, it is a big lope!"

To the round pen we go...with an alder tree doubling as a bamboo pole.

She climbed off Steve Holt! and we led him into the barn alleyway, chatting and talking. She'd brought a bag of carrots...and he was in love. Head over heels in love! Who was this magical woman with delicious treats? This was good stuff!

The end of week one...or was it the first day of week two?
Doesn't matter. First saddling. In the snow.

She'd been looking since July. I asked about her last horse, a paint who opted out of the 'leave the barn to go for a ride' program, it seemed. He didn't like to go alone. She'd asked if Steve Holt! was willing to go alone. Oh, yes, indeed, I replied. I ride alone all the time. He jumps into the trailer and loves to explore trails. No problem there.

My, what a handsome boy he was!
My, what a white winter we had!

She had a dreamy smile on her face when she left. Steve Holt! had a dreamy look, too. She'd left the bag of carrots behind.

First ride...28 days into training.

Barn life seems to agree with Steve Holt!. She'd worried he'd be bored living at a boarding facility in a stall, but this week at the Cowboy's has been good. He just gets better and better each time we lead him from the stall. The Cowboy's wife said that perhaps he's just needed to have that added security of a snug shell of a home (box stall) and the companionship of humans leading him from point A to point B. I don't know, but whatever it is, it seems to be working for our big boy. He moves slower and slower each time we ride around the arena, content to be just a little lazy.

Darling at the reins...Steve Holt! becomes a jumper.

As the truck pulled away, Darling and I were smiling. "She's so nice!" said Darling. Indeed, she was. "And she brought carrots!" chimed in Steve Holt!. Okay...maybe not out loud, but he was thinking it! Darling's smile waned for a moment..."I'll miss him."

So will I, Darling...so will I. We've got a couple more days left with him, though. A few more rides before we say goodbye.

Artsy Video by Darling

You may find yourself needing to let this one load for a couple of minutes before watching. Darling has pulled up some old footage, plus added some recent clips, to create this video. Hope you enjoy!

It's My Job!

Not quite a week ago, we moved Steve Holt! down to the Cowboy's place so that we'd have a dry place to ride him on a regular basis. Since I drive down anyway to work Kitty, it only made sense to have him there as well so that I wasn't rushed to get home, load him up into a trailer and haul him somewhere dry.

With quite a bit of time off this past year, we started slow. He was lunged for 5-10 minutes, then Darling would climb on and I'd lunge him with her aboard for a few more minutes. That was followed by her riding at one end of the arena only, doing a lot of circles, keeping him rounded up, nose down where it belonged, but mostly his youthful self focused on what she wanted him to do...which was relax.

Steve Holt! thought we were crazy. He'd sigh big, heavy sighs, and obediently go about what we asked of him. Darling, too, it seems, thought I was crazy for taking so many precautions. But, I told her, I'm the mother and allowed to worry, fret, and make unreasonable requests in an effort to keep all involved safe. If Darling could roll her eyes, she would have...instead she groaned, and I think Steve Holt! rolled his for her.

After a few consecutive days in the saddle, Darling informed me that I didn't need to lunge her today, that all would be fine. I nodded, said yes, and told her she probably didn't even need to lunge him first. I'd ridden him the day before, wind blowing and rattling all sorts of arena bits, without him taking one misstep, so I was sure he'd do just fine.

I got busy helping the Cowboy, who was ripping out old carpet and getting ready for some new stuff this weekend. I peeked out after a few minutes and the two were doing quite well. Darling had the camera and wanted some video, so I obliged. Steve Holt! was working so well with two hands...slow (for him), consistent, head low, neck level...that I began wondering how he'd do with just one hand on the reins.

Darling switched to one hand when she was walking, which of course was not abnormal, and as he walked nice and relaxed, I suggested maybe she ask for a jog and see what happens? So she did...and though she had to pick up the second rein to let him know not to trot off in an english trot, she was able to drop back to one hand and make several laps around the arena with just the occasional check on speed.

There was a big ol' smile on my girl's face when they finished up. Both directions, and he'd maintained the slower pace, worked off her leg when she asked him to, and very little second hand action. No, he's not ready to take on a rail class, but it sure installs confidence when putting a horse up for sale to know that after a lengthy time off, and a full year of english/jumping before that, he's able to transition so well into a relaxed arena ride. And I don't know why that should surprise me, but hey, I'm the mom, and I'm supposed to worry and fret. It's my job!