The next week-ish I'll be reviewing three important days that led to Q coming home and becoming "mine".
I went on my first formal ride on Q, who at that time was only know as "the Arab" or "that crazy horse" or "the psycho horse".
|About to tack her up for the first time|
Feet in poor condition with slightly over-long toes and really poor hoof horn that chipped everywhere.
She was forward. Eager. Her gaits were to die for - especially that ground eating canter. You'd point her at an obstacle to jump and she'd collect beautifully over it unlike any horse I'd had the pleasure to ride prior.
|Looking around the trailer for another horse|
She was pushy on the ground, but beyond that, a dream to ride and work with in comparison to so many horses I'd been riding other than Stan.
|In the round pen before I mounted to ride.|
She was offered to me for $600, but I wasn't certain I could handle the extra financial burden at that time. I began pondering; we still had another day of riding left.
|Homely lookin'. Floppy lower lip, too.|
Ultimately, that second day would tear at my heartstrings 10-fold because of how awesome that little mare was for me. All of my friends on the ride who were twice my age and in various professional fields that involved horses urged me to get the little horse.
|On top of the mountain. She wasn't amused with photos at this point.|
I was still uncertain about the financial feasibility of it all though. ...yet if I didn't get that little mare she'd be headed to auction the following weekend. An auction that would likely land her in the hands of a kill buyer...
|Head tossing rudeness after our ride.|
|The following morning. I love her summer coat before its sun bleached. So stunning.|
|Gah. Stunning. I was having a hard time thinking about having to say goodbye to this little mare at this point.|