A lot of years ago I got a call from a fellow who said he had been given a 5 year old TB that had just retired from racing in the country. He wanted help re-training it for his 12 year old daughter so she could take it to Pony Club. We booked the horse to arrive in a few weeks.

Arrival day came and what scurried out of the trailer was a pretty 14.3hh brown mare breathing fire. I told the owner and his daughter that I’d give it a few days to settle into her new home and probably start working with it on Thursday. Part of the deal I made with the owner was that he and his daughter had to commit to coming out to watch me work their horse and as the horse made progress I would encourage them to work with their horse under my supervision. It was a condition I placed on every client before accepting a job. If they were not willing to commit to coming out at least once a week I would not take the job.

We organized that Julie and her dad would come out each Sunday morning.

Cherry was a mess (full name was Cherry Ripe). Like so many TBs just retired from racing her mind had been scrambled by the pressure and a lack of clarity. I approached her training as if she knew nothing and I was starting her like I might a foal. She was a nice mare, but I did wonder if she would be suitable for a 12 year old kid or pony club.

Julie came out each Sunday to watch. At first, she seemed shy, but after a few weeks, she started to open up and ask really good questions. She was a smart cookie and watched everything with such intense seriousness. She absorbed everything she saw and heard.

After Cherry had been with me for about 5 weeks, it was time to start Julie doing some groundwork with her horse. I was so happy with how well Julie took to the groundwork even though she had minimum experience with this type of training. This kid had some skills and a nice way of being around her horse. I started to have hope that the relationship between Cherry and Julie might work out after all.

The weeks passed and Cherry was turning into a super fun horse. She was smart, focused and brave. Julie was working hard to progress as fast as Cherry. What is more, they were both falling in love. Even on Cherry’s worst day, Julie could not have loved her mare more. And when trouble struck Cherry began looking to Julie for help. It cheered my heart. 

Finally, it came time for Julie to take Cherry home. We arranged that we would keep up the lessons every couple of weeks. The work and the relationship were going from strength to strength with only a few hiccups along the way.

Then one day Julie said, “There is a club competition in 4 weeks. I want to enter Cherry into her first dressage test. Do you think she is ready?”

I replied, “I think you could give it ago. If she is not ready, just treat it as a picnic outing rather than a competition.”

“I’m a bit nervous. Will you come and watch me, Ross,” she asked.

 “Sure,” I said, “but it will cost you a hotdog for my lunch.”

She wrote down where and when the event would be and I said goodbye, promising to be there.

The event was on a Sunday which meant I had to cancel a few of my regular lessons. I was running a little late and when I got to the pony club ground I saw Julie was already riding Cherry in the warm-up area. I parked the truck and hurried over to see her before it was her turn to go into the ring.

“How’s she doing, Julie,” I asked.

“She’s all over the place. She won’t settle. We have to canter in both directions in this test and I think she’ll lose her mind if I ask her to canter. What should I do?” She sounded desperate.

I said, “Look after your horse. That’s your job. Look after your horse. As long as I have been alive they have never run out of competitions. There’ll be another competition next week, next month, and next year for you to win a ribbon. But you only have one friend like Cherry. Look after your friend.”

Julie’s dad came over and we watched her ride together. I think we were as nervous as Julie. Cherry was truly wound tight, but she was holding it together. I looked at the test on the sheet of paper Julie’s dad handed me. I knew the canter was coming up. I didn’t think Cherry would handle being asked to canter and I was getting very nervous for her.

As Julie and Cherry came to the marker that called for a canter, Julie stood up in a 2-point position as if she was about to ask Cherry to jump over a fence. She then reached forward with both arms and began gently stroking Cherry on either side of her neck. As she did this I noticed she was talking to Cherry in a whisper. Reassuring her. Calming her.

They continued trotting past the marker where they were meant to canter. The judge rang the bell for a disqualification, but Julie ignored the bell and kept stroking. They trotted a lap and a half before Cherry’s trot started to relax and she began to stretch a little. Julie and Cherry then retired and left the ring.

Julie was smiling. I was smiling. Even the judge seemed to be smiling.

Julie’s dad said, “What the hell was that? She should have cantered. You can’t win ribbons that way.”

I didn’t say anything. I was speechless and so proud. I had not told Julie what to do. She figured out all by herself how to look after her friend.

 When Julie dismounted it took all my willpower not to run up and hug her. I couldn’t have been more proud of her. It was hard for me to believe a 12 year old had the maturity to forget she was in a competition and take care of her horse.

Julie looked at me and asked, “Was that okay? Is it okay that I chickened out of doing the canter and I messed up? I just thought Cherry was already trying her hardest to hold it together and I didn’t want to upset her even more.”

I said, “Julie, you had the best ride of anybody here today. I couldn’t be more proud of you or Cherry. You and Cherry deserve the blue ribbon more than anyone.”

I finally said I needed to get back for a couple of afternoon lessons and said goodbye. As I turned towards the truck Julie said, “Ross.” 

When I turned back to her she handed her dad the reins and stepped towards me and hugged me.

“Thank you, Ross,” she said. “I’ll see you next week at our lesson.”

Even after all the years, when I think of what it takes to be a good horse person I think of Julie. 

But Julie, in case you are reading this, you still owe me a hotdog..