The above quote is what one of the moms said today when she saw Ricky and I reunited once again.
And...it is.
Better than a Disney movie.
I managed to get all of my lessons taught this morning in enough time to go and hook up the 1 ton to the 3 horse since the 2 horse was at a cutting show apparently...found that out this morning.
Not to be discouraged I hooked up the 3 horse and headed down Mopac in a nerve-wracking drive that I have not made in nearly four years. Granted I go down Mopac all the time but somehow my travels never take me to the Duval exit.
Everything looked the same, nearly identical kind of weather that I associate with my very first trip out to Switch Willo when I was only 8 1/2 years old. Cool and winter-bright, the sun wasn't out but it was shining from behind the clouds making everything look extremely bright. The trees along Duval--from what's left of the greenbelt--were barren and winter-whipped, probably also dead from this awful drought (soon to end...?).
I was prepared for that pit-of-my-stomach-butterflies feeling I get--and have gotten--every time I drive across the speed bumps leading into Switch Willo. It was eerie to see how similar everything looked yet how extremely different...the gardening detail that led along the main drive into SWS is now pretty much gone, probably also due to the drought. I was used to lantanas spilling out over railroad ties...but everything was pretty much gone.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Glenn pulling out so I stopped and said hello to him, in an awkward tete-a-tete of "Are you dropping off a horse?"-"No"-"Picking one up?"-"Yes"-"Who?"-"Ricky" and then seeing his face instantly soften a bit and I realized that while Phoebe may have left Glenn out of the loop when it came to Ricky's future home, it was all okay because Glenn knew just like Phoebe had that I would always be after Ricky. He told me to be nice to him, "Oh well, I know you'll be nice to him!" and then drove off.
Just as soon as I had parked the trailer I saw one of the freelance trainers, Beverly, making her way toward me. I told her how I was there to pick up Ricky and she said "Oh...so Phoebe is giving him to you? That's so nice of her..." Her face also softened, and it started to occur to me that perhaps this is the melting of the vast, cold iceberg of non grata that has wedged itself between their barn and ours. She said she wasn't doing anything and offered to help me with him.
Of course, I knew where to find Ricky, I knew what he looked like and where he would be standing and how I would react when I saw him and the other 20-odd lesson horses milling about in the paddock. Bev was talking, almost eerily, I think in hopes of keeping my mind from wandering too far, and I was doing okay, saying hi to all of my old friends. I saw Lucy, the big red mare that always could inspire confidence in anyone as long as she stayed sound which wasn't often, and I noticed that even today she had her ankle wrapped. Borden was still there--a big fat paint that had chronic feet issues. I recalled days past when I would stand in his stall forever and dig out rocks and mud that would get packed into his special shoes, my fingers bleeding and raw from trying to clean out his deep soles. I was in charge of cleaning out his feet every morning when I got to the barn, and then drenching his frogs in this dark, smelly green substance called Kopertox which basically dried his feet out. I saw Willie, whom I had seen at the vet a couple of weeks ago after he colicked and remembered how I thought "I wish Ricky would go to the vet just so I can see him." I saw Spanky, the cause of me being teased incessantly when I was in 6th grade by writing "I LOVE SPANKY" on my backpack, and how Spanky was the first horse I jumped the infamous "grey wall" on (that someone later crashed through and it was turned to firewood). I saw Snickers, a now ancient pony that had been at Kingsbridge Farm years ago that I rode in a camp. Then I was surprised to see him show up at Switch Willo a few years later and I remember riding him again, and thinking about how much easier he was to ride and how much smaller he seemed than he had when I was younger. As I neared the end of the row of stalls, I saw Spirit, the little chestnut with long, crooked ankles that was more stubborn than any other animal out there, and I remembered how long ago I had gotten to hack Spirit after one of my lessons and being so incredibly excited because I had ridden
two horses in
one night. I remembered the rarity of that event, how incredibly special I had felt that Phoebe had let me ride two for the price of one, and the feeling that if I could be in a world where I could ride not one but
two horses on any given day, I would be set for life.
I then heard Bev say "There he is!" And sure enough, in the third to last stall, was Ricky, hanging his head out across the chain, and staring straight at us. "He heard you!" Bev exclaimed. "He remembers you."
I saw his face and instantly was hit by a wave of emotions--it was like seeing something you thought you lost, feeling that rush of relief and happiness in realizing that no, you hadn't lost it, it was there all along. I remembered the work that went into Ricky, I remembered Glenn once saying to me "Rachel, I saw Ricky out there in the field the other day and did a doubletake--I thought he was a privately owned horse! He looks great!" I remembered pride and I remembered most of all, how much I loved Ricky. How I can look at him and see a friend, see a face that is familiar and walk up to him and know that he knows exactly who I am.
I started crying, which caught Beverly off-guard, as she said "Oh, you're crying! Oh that's sweet!" And I told her I couldn't help it. Because that walk up to Ricky was a long walk through a sea of friends, like walking through Heaven and seeing memories and times and snapshots of many, many years. I only wished that Opus could have been there, that I could have at least given him a hearty slap on the neck and a carrot, but I knew that Opus took himself away. I was glad that I could take Ricky.
I put the halter on Ricky and led him out of the paddock, down that familiar walk to the parking lot, and walked over to the trailer. He balked at the trailer once and then clamored inside, I guess figuring I had not led him astray so far.
The longest drive of my life would have to be the drive back from Switch Willo to Madrone. All I wanted was to get Ricky off the trailer and stare at him. I finally got back and unloaded him and walked him, quivering and looking around warily out of his good eye. He was a little unsure of himself at first, a little spookier than I remember old Ricky being.
I put him in a stall with a run and watched him wander around, eat some hay and then stare out into the fields. I could have watched him for days. Every time I called his name, he would trot up the run and come right to me. Luckily there were enough people around to keep me from completely losing it, but it was touch and go there for a while. One of the ladies out there was like "Rachel, you are just
glowing!!" After a while and after he'd chilled for a bit, I took him for a walk down the street to the ring and we walked around in the ring and it was then that I remembered one of the many reasons he is wonderful--he is extremely calm. For how different everything was, he went down to the ring and looked around and took everything in like he'd done it a million times. It reminded me of old days at the horse shows where I would be so proud with how calm and collected he was in a different environment.
I eventually had to go home, after one of the mom took some pictures of him with me (she insisted, so I obliged, somewhat happily). She took the featured photo.
Thanks to everyone for their encouraging comments and sharing my excitement! It was really a great, great day.
