I got a response that almost all the mares and fillies were still
available. Only one had found a new home. They were all sound and
healthy, most were at least track broke and they were all used to being handled. We
set a date that I could come and take a look at them. I got a jolt when she
told me the location of their farm...less than 10 minutes from where I
would be boarding her! I tried to not get TOO excited, things could
still fall apart very easily.
The next Saturday I made
the drive out to view the seven Thoroughbreds. The groom that led me to
their paddock chatted about how they were cared for, what their
temperaments were...the normal stuff. I listened to what she was saying, took it with a grain of salt...she WAS trying to rehome them after all, she could have been willing to tell me they were all Grand Prix winners if it would seal the deal. I was more interested in watching the herd together. Granted most of the horses were in pretty decent shape but there were many signs of fighting...scrapes, bite marks...and an overall sense of unease from the entire herd. One gangly chestnut filly was obviously the lowest horse in the herd, she was skinnier than the others and 3 mares charged her repeatedly to chase her away, one even pinned her in the corner and tried to kick her. With each attack she just ran, she never defended herself, but she kept coming back...over and over again.
Quite a few of the mares caught my eye, including the gangly chestnut, but none of their personalities really meshed with what I was hoping to find. I wanted a partner, a horse I could feel some kind of connection with...I got none of that from any of the first 3 mares I looked at. One big stout dark bay mare was pretty friendly, she responded well to affection and handled easily enough. But there was no click, at best it would have been like a business relationship...she would do what I asked willingly, but there was no spark there. I turned her loose and started to head for the next mare when I literally froze on the spot. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood up and I got chills.
I turned around and there she was. Standing off by herself now, the big chestnut filly was staring at me, head held high, ears perked...that lofty look of eagles only a Thoroughbred could have. Once she was certain that she had my attention, she waded her way through the rest of the mares, bravely passing the mare that had pinned her earlier. She never hesitated, she never swerved and she never took her eyes from mine. She walked right up and put her head over my shoulder. I reached up to scratch her on the neck and she pulled me in to her chest and hugged me.
Sometimes we don't get to choose our horses...sometimes the horse chooses us.
