How to Know If You’re Ready

to Own a Horse
By Jane Gilgun

This article tells a story of what it is like to own a horse—the love,

teamwork, commitment, and, yes, money that it takes. She writes, “If
there is a heaven, let it be a horse back ride in the spring when the
plum trees are in bloom and the cheeps of tiny frogs hurt our ears.”

About the Author

Jane Gilgun has a life-long love of horses and has two: Ellie and Finn, who are
the subjects of this article. See Jane’s other articles, books, and children’s stories
on Amazon Kindle, scribd.com/professorjane, and stores.lulu.com/jgilgun.
 How to Know If You’re Ready
to Own a Horse

I
 wanted
 my
 own
 horse
 after
 Glitter,
 the
 horse
 I
 was
 leasing,
 was
 sold.
 I

liked
Glitter,
but
she
was
high‐strung
and
a
lot
of
work.
I
could
have
bought

her
because
as
a
leaser
I
had
the
right
of
first
purchase.
As
beautiful
and
as

talented
as
she
was,
I
thought
I
could
do
better.
It
was
hard
to
let
her
go,

but
the
person
who
bought
her
kept
her
on
the
farm
where
she
had
been

since
she
was
two
and
where
I
rode.
I
got
to
see
her.


I
 never
 again
 wanted
 an
 owner
 to
 take
 a
 horse
 away
 from
 me.
 This
 had

happened
 several
 times
 before.
 I
 wanted
 my
 own
 horse.
 I
 finally
 had

enough
money
and
time
to
buy
and
care
for
a
horse.
I
had
found
a
boarding

farm
that
was
125
acres,
lots
of
open
space
for
horses,
and
fairly
close
to

where
I
lived.


Looking
for
My
Own
Horse


The
owner
of
a
farm
where
I
rode
had
several
horses
for
sale.
I
asked
about

two
or
three
and
she
had
one
excuse
after
another
for
not
selling
them
to

me.
One
of
them
was
her
horse.
She
would
let
him
go
for
a
huge
amount,

far
 more
 than
 I
 was
 willing
 to
 pay.
 Another
 she
 said
 did
 not
 have
 a
 good

mind,
as
gorgeous
as
he
was
and
as
beautiful
as
his
gaits
were.
His
father

was
Padron,
who
had
won
the
equivalent
of
the
Triple
Crown
for
Arabs.


She
offered
me
Padron's
Elegante,
or
Ellie,
a
five
year‐old
green
broke
bay

Arab
mare.
The
owner
suggested
I
take
Ellie
as
a
project
in
the
fall
and
sell

her
 in
 the
 spring.
 That
 sounded
 like
 a
 good
 idea.
 I
 should
 have
 known

better.
 I
 looked
 into
 that
 mare's
 eyes
 and
 she
 looked
 back,
 alert,
 gentle,

spirited.
I
did
not
know
it
then,
but
I
would
never
let
her
go.


Ellie
 passed
 the
 vet
 check
 with
 flying
 colors.
 "Sound,
 muscled,
 well
 put‐
together,
wonderful
gaits,
willing.
She's
quite
a
horse,"
the
vet
said.
From

the
moment
I
got
on
her,
I
could
feel
the
energy
of
her.
I
also
did
not
know

it
then,
but
we
connected
immediately.

Not
an
Easy
Horse


She
was
not
an
easy
horse.
Her
biggest
issue
was
anticipation.
She
was
so

tense
and
smart
that
she
thought
she
knew
what
I
wanted
before
I
asked

her.
I
think
now
that
the
anticipation
was
about
wanting
to
avoid
pain
and

punishment.


She
held
her
head
high,
which
I
was
used
to
having
ridden
Arabs
for
many

years,
but
there
was
something
different
about
her
head
carriage
and
the

on‐going
tension
in
her
body.
I
tried
different
bits,
wondering
if
she
had
a

low
 palate
 and
 the
 snaffle
 bit
 I
 used
 was
 hitting
 her
 in
 the
 roof
 of
 her

mouth
when
I
used
the
reins.
After
trying
three
or
 four
different
bits,
she

relaxed
 when
 I
 got
 her
 a
 double‐jointed
 snaffle
 that
 was
 supposed
 to
 not

hit
horses'
palates.


She
 still
 seemed
 a
 bit
 tense
 and
 I
 thought
 the
 saddle
 might
 not
 fit
 well.
 I

bought
a
new
saddle
that
had
air
pockets
instead
of
stuffing
and
that
was

expandable
 with
 inserts.
 Gradually
 she
 became
 relaxed,
 but
 not
 quite

mellow.


The
Magic
of
a
Bitless
Bridle


My
one
last
experiment
was
to
get
her
a
bitless
bridle.
Magic.
Ellie
loves
her

bitless
bridle.
Now
we
truly
are
a
team.
She
is
relaxed,
mellow,
carries
her

head
well,
is
balanced
and
responsive.
We
are
a
team.


She
is
better
at
it
than
I
am.
She
loves
trail
riding.
Bush
whacking
is
tops
for

her.
Her
small
ears
are
pointed
forward
and
she
is
inquisitive
and
energetic

as
she
breaks
trail.
I
wrote
a
poem
about
her.



When
you
spook
and
I
land
hard
on
the
ground


when
you
stop
short
from
a
canter
and
I
fall
on
your
neck


when
you
lift
your
head
out
of
reach
as
I
trim
you

forelock

Let's
remember
the
times
when
I
think
left
and
you
go
that
way


when
I
ask
for
a
canter
and
you
give
it


when
I
touch
your
brow
and
you
lower
your
head


when
 we're
 in
 the
 woods
and
 the
 sunlight
 dapples
 the
 green

leaves
as
you
step
daintily
over
a
wooden
bridge.




Ellie
had
a
foal
with
a
gorgeous
paint
stud
nine
years
ago.
His
name
is
Finn

MacCool.
 He
 is
 a
 big
 red
 chestnut
 with
 flaxen
 mane
 and
 tail,
 a
 blaze
 and

two
white
socks.
He
is
now
my
good
old
gelding,
willing
and
sensitive
like

his
 mother,
 but
 so
 relaxed
 and
 even
 lazy
 that
 it's
 hard
 to
 believe
 the
 two

horses
 are
 related.
 Finn
 and
 I
 are
 working
 on
 our
 partnership,
 but
 the

mutuality
is
there
and
has
been
within
months
after
he
was
born.


Sometimes
I
feel
lazy
or
tired
and
don't
feel
like
going
to
the
farm.
When
I

get
myself
there
anyway,
Finn
and
Ellie
greet
me
with
wise
eyes
and
gentle

nature.
Riding
them
is
exciting
much
of
the
time
and
work
at
others.
Being

with
them
is
always
a
joy.
Horses
are
magic.


After
 reading
 my
 story,
 I
 think
 you
 have
 learned
 what
 it
 takes
 to
 own
 a

horse:



• love
for
horses

• 
money
to
buy
a
horse
and
to
pay
the
bills
such
as
for
vet,
feed,
and

tack


• a
farm
with
open
fields
and
green
grass
so
they
can
be
horses


• commitment
to
the
horse's
well‐being


• willingness
 to
 experiment
 to
 find
 out
 what
 works
 best
 with
 your

horse
‐connection
and
partnership
with
your
horse



If
there
is
a
heaven,
let
it
be
a
horseback
ride
in
the
spring
when
the
plum

trees
are
in
bloom
and
tiny
frogs
peep
so
loud
they
hurt
our
ears.