As I led her (Cherish) up the small hill, I could feel my heart whispering to me, "Do not be afraid. It's with you." Suddenly I felt completely overjoyed, as I usually do. This morning I had woken up in a miserable mood, most likely to do with the fact that I was forced to wake up and roll out of bed at 7:30 am. Most horse people would be scoffing at me right now, wondering why 7:30 am was such a bad thing. I am a late sleeper, and I have horses. It is rare that you find this type of an oxymoron, but here I am.

"Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it." -Confucius

It took her a while to climb into the trailer because we do not have one to practice with (We were going trail riding with some friends... or rather, I was trail riding and my mom and little brother were biking.) I felt like I was whispering to her the whole time, and eventually she stepped in with all fours. Once she had stepped up with her front two feet, turned her head to look at me, and I smiled at her. She then stretched her neck up to the sky, at first similar to the action of a person taking their arms and stretching them out as wide as they go, then throwing their head back to the sky.

As we were driving down the road, I was looking around to the trees, to the grass, to the world. It is amazing how much so many people miss as they are driving down the road, or even as they are simply standing. The shame is that there are very few people who master the act of carrying this feeling of amazement and joy wherever they go with them, as do I. Even when I am sad, it still lingers there. I am rarely truly sad or angry anymore. When I do get truly sad or angry though, it is quite extreme.

As we pulled into the horse trailer parking area, I could feel the bodies around me growing more and more tense. As Teresa started to give out orders, I noticed that Anna became more and more aggravated with her movements. Both Teresa and Anna were acting as if things were "rush, rush" but I would have none of it with my horse. We unloaded the horses and I purposefully tied Cherish around the back where we would have a bit of privacy and therefore more freedom. It was not long at all before I noticed that she wasn't just nervous, but very tense and almost unresponsive when I asked her to yield to pressure. With my footsteps and a soft hand I guided her away from the trailer a bit so that we would have room to play. Teresa came around the back of the trailer to view my progress. After a moment of a critical eye, she snapped (without meaning to, I think) "Kara, that horse is perfectly calm. You don't need to play with her, just tack her up and let's go. Do you need a curry comb?" She scanned her again and there was a hidden look of disgust at the dust that was lingering on top of Cherish's coat. I did have to give her that- she looked like she had not been groomed in a week or so when in fact, I groom her every day. I gave her that certain smile that says "Yes, that's very nice dear. Hush now." After a moment of that smile and Cherish's continued circling with me in neutral, she left and retreated to her side of the trailer in impatience.

I closed my eyes and felt the rope sliding through my hands, heard her breath behind me and come around. I could feel her hooves stepping into the beats of the walk. Nothing else mattered except for that continuing motion around me and the horse that walked softly at the end of the rope. I knew that now both of us were calm, but I decided to up the play and thinking a little bit. After doing a little bit of Stick to Me, Sideways, Squeeze, YoYo, etc, all in creative ways and interesting positions, I decided that it was a good idea to groom her before I drove everyone else crazy.

Each stroke lifted another layer of dust off of her brown fur, the layers seeming to be endless. Soon the strokes ran into themselves and over the other, seeming that there was no space and time between. Before I knew it Cherish was groomed and still bearing soft eyes. I reached over to stroke the soft mane, lifting it with my first two fingers and gently gliding my thumb across it. This moment was special, and very important for me to experience. It was important for both of us to see each other in this way. I cannot completely describe it.

In short, I found out that I had forgotten my girth but proceeded to bridle Cherish. She accepted the bit very nicely, contrary to the previous episodes before the Cradle Bridle where she would sling her head not in defiance but complete distress, wanting nothing to do with anything of a bridle or bit. She now lowered her head for me while I stroked in between her ears and guided the Cradle Bridle over her face, gently resting it on her head. Her eyes seemed to be filled with content as she felt the bit in her mouth, looser than most people would do it, and the bridle, carrying her face gently and giving comfort and support. I looked into her eye and felt the refreshing warm feeling that I always do. She is the thing that matters most to me in this world, I believe.

Instead of hopping and failing several times, I asked my mom to give me a leg up. Although my horse is only 14.2 or 14.3 hands, I am 5'2" so I think that it is fair to say I can use one. True, I do not always need one and have successfully hopped on her back many times. There were a few attempts of getting her to swing me on to her back, but I never continued with it because the winter came, I got sick, I left, there was Christmas, then the snow and the ice, and well... life happened. My mom and I coordinated our time very well in that she lifted me gently, as if I were a dainty ballerina, to where I could lift my leg over slowly and simply sink into Cherish's back, rather than plopping like I see so many people do when they are given leg ups. She seemed rather grateful that I did not plop, as I would be too if I were a horse.

Compared to riding her in other bits the Cradle Bridle was instantly a transformation. She was much lighter than she is with the hackamore (I just use the halter and Finesse reins) and seemed to turn on a dime. The first stretch was an open field with large stones and cannons at the end of it. Remember, we were at the battlefield... I want to say the Catahoula Battlefield (but that is a dog) or the Chattahoochee Battlefield (but that is an area in Tennessee in the mountains near the river). For this first space she was not fighting me, but asking constantly, "Should we go faster?" Although I have a RBI, she is constantly wanting to please me due to the partnership I have forged with her. At this point, although I was not nervous, my energy was up and she could feel it. She knows that energy up=go. Why wouldn't she dance and continue to ask? I cannot blame her, I am the one that taught her this way. About half way through the field, I was able to relax and bring my energy down. Immediately I could see the difference in Cherish and Teresa and Anna noticed it as well. To have a horse mirror you so well can be a gift or a curse if you are to use it wrong.

The woods were absolutely gorgeous and it was as if I did not have time to take in all of the beauty because even if you had all the time in the world it would not all be yours. I am happier to take in my fair share and then disperse the rest to the world, continuing the energy and the joy that flows from one thing to the next. For the most part I rested my reins (9 foot) on Cherish's withers, allowing her to pick around where she wishes to go. The trail was rather obvious and there were times where I had to guide her with my focus points, but for the most part she figured it out herself.

There were several times where we came to a road. One was particularly busy, and I could see the surprise on people's faces to witness three horses standing just off of the road perfectly calm (Well, two of them perfectly calm.) and with one rider that had no saddle. (Me. Like I said before, I forgot my girth.) When we came to a point where we could cross the road, it was quite comical to see Cherish step over the white lines at each end and the yellow lines in the center. She took each hoof and purposefully raised it really high so that she would not step on the lines. It was not particularly slow, but just her taking extra caution. I laughed at her and she turned her head to the side slightly so that she could see me, her expression and eye laughing along with me. Who said that horses do not have voices?

When we came upon a (very) small clearing, there were several cannons and signs lined up. We decided that this would be a good time to let the horses sniff the cannons since they would be seeing them throughout the trail ride. Cherish walked up and rested her nose on it as if to say, "Comfy enough, it works." Liberty, Anna's beautiful little Arabian mare, walked up to it and started to rub her nose on the side. Cannons double as pillows and good scratching posts for horses, if anyone ever needs either of the two. Shiraz, the baby of the three, (and the more animated as well) decided that she would rather just eat grass near the strange things and not touch them.

Teresa called up to me, (Cherish was more comfortable being in the front, strangely enough, for a RBI.) "Are you comfortable enough to trot now?" My answer was of course yes, and I thought that Cherish was definitely calm enough to trot. I raised my energy very slightly and Cherish moved into a nice, very forward trot. The other two horses followed behind me and we were cruising along wonderfully. Teresa told me several times that I could set the pace. (I think that she was slightly surprised that I could sit such a trot so well.)

I must wrap up my long blog post because my mom has been pestering me about going to bed. I have school tomorrow for the first day after a long and wonderful Christmas Break and I am NOT looking forward to it. In all, I had a very good time. We came across two nice ladies who were riding gaited horses that new some friends of Teresa's. We walked, trotted, and cantered (and halted and backed too) through some beautiful woods. Cherish crossed several creeks very nicely, but she did jump the first one. (It was small.) I went back and showed her that she could walk through it, which she then did very well. There was one area where the creek was probably ten feet wide with a busy road overhead, so we had to go in under the tunnel bridge. At first Shiraz was not too fond of the idea but we successfully and safely got all of the horses to cross through the water and under the bridge to the other field. After our ride we ate a picnic lunch by the trailer, laid in the sunshine, and then Anna and I rode bikes.

After Cherish had loaded, I found out what it was like to have the whole world crashing down on you. I had already tied her up (quick release) and was putting the divider bar across (it is a slant load) when she started to back out. I pushed her forward but she got scared and continued to come. I could not stop her (Think- an 800 pound horse against a 100 pound girl, who is going to win?) Teresa got the Carrot Stick and was tapping her forward. She took one step forward and then lurched backward, halfway falling out of the trailer. Because she was still tied her head was being pulled up by the rope and halter and her back legs were flailing. Her legs and hooves hit the trailer, clanging and banging against it with a fierce power. I knew that there was nothing that I could do. I turned my head and went to the side of the trailer. (I was going to undo the quick release if I could) As I walked away I gripped my head in my hands and screamed with my mouth closed so that it would not be too loud. Suddenly, there was silence... And I thought, for an instant, "This is it. My dear is dead. I am dead." In that moment, I saw my horse die. It may have just been in my head, but I am known to be delusional. I thought it was real, for a split second. I saw myself sitting next to the burial spot for hours, burying a carrot next to the new red soil. I saw myself unable to cry, just sitting on the ground as if life were not meaningful enough to cry. As if it were the end, and tears would only be pointless trumpets demanding that the end not come. It felt like an eternity, but it was only a moment, and there are four moments in a second. Cherish had only struggled for three or four seconds before she remembered the rule "Give to pressure and you will be free." that I had taught her. When she was back in, I opened the window and looked in. Now the fear was not that my horse was dead, but that she had severed a tendon or broken her leg or damaged her coronet band or something awful. There were no gashes, no spots. I checked every few minutes, as if there would be a new gash every time I looked, but there were none. After a moment, I realized that everyone was standing in a circle around me, and realized that I was stroking Cherish's star with one finger, shaking and about to cry. I stopped shaking in an instant, answered Teresa that no, I would not like to take her back out (mainly for fear that she would not go back in and she would get impatient and take the lead rope out of my hands), and told them to go ahead and put Libby in. I told Kyle (my little brother) to get his boots, and my mom realized that I was trying to busy everyone, so she left as well with nothing to do but acting as if she did. I was grateful for her response. Cherish is safely and happily in her stall with her hay and water, and not so much as a rub mark behind her ears.

I will go now. My computer is going to die. It was a pleasure writing to you, even if "you" is only me.