“Don’t cry matey. What are ya sorry for? Don’t cry,” Walt pleaded with a worried expression.
“Walt, I ruined your horse. Moz is the best horse I have ever ridden and I pushed him too hard, too fast. I made him stop at the jump. I did it. I wrecked him. I’m so sorry,” I sobbed through the tears.
“Ya don’t need to worry about that. Moz will be alright. You’ll be jumpin him again. Ya made a mistake in front of a jump. Everybody does that sometimes. Ya just hurtin. You’ll be alright and so will Moz. You quit ya tears or them nurses will put ya in the babies ward.”
Mum said that I should get my rest and that Walt and Amos could visit tomorrow. I don’t remember too much of the stay in the hospital. I guess concussion is like that. I stayed for about 3 days and I know Walt and Amos came to visit at least one other time, but I don’t remember what we talked about. I remember dad and mum arguing about whether or not I should be allowed to ride again. Dad was adamant that I give up riding, but mum had her ways of weakening dad’s determination and I knew the ban from going to the riding school would only last a couple of weeks.
When the ban was eventually lifted, the first one I went to see was Moz. He looked fine and even came to the gate for a scratch on the poll, his favourite spot. I then went to see the boss and he said not to worry about coming back to work in a hurry. My job was safe and he would manage for another week or two if I just wanted to hang out with the horses. I told him I felt fine and that I only showed up because I missed cleaning the stables so much. I got the barrow and fork and headed for the far stables to make a start on Pepper’s stall.
I had already shifted one barrow load when I turned to see Walt standing in the doorway.
“Weren’t ya goin to come and see me and Amos and say hello?”
“Sorry Walt. I was going to do that, but the boss wanted me to start straight away on the stables. I was going to come and see you. Honest!” I replied.
“Well matey, a fellow could get a complex that maybe ya was avoidin him. Amos and me called ya at home a few times, but ya ain’t never called back. I figured ya was mad at me.”
“What? No Walt. I’m not mad. That’s crazy. Why would you think that?”
“Well matey, what’s wrong? Somethin is wrong. I know ya well enough to know that.”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” I lied.
“C’mon. Tell me. What’s wrong?”
“Well, it’s not you at all. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I feel ashamed. I feel terrible,” I said meekly.
“But why matey? Ya only had a fall. Everybody has a fall. It ain’t nothin to be ashamed about. I’m sorry ya got hurt, but it ain’t a big deal,” Walt exclaimed.
“Crashing through the fence is not what I am ashamed about, Walt. The reason I feel so bad is because of why Moz ran out on the fence.”
I began to feel the tears coming back. I tried to hold them in, but I felt I was losing the battle.
“I knew Moz was getting more worried about jumping. The jumps were getting bigger and courses were getting harder. Moz was trying his heart out, but he wasn’t ready. He began to rush in front of jumps and wouldn’t listen to the reins and then between jumps he was holding back and wouldn’t listen to my legs. I never told you, but I had to change bits to get more control of Moz in front of the jumps. I knew these problems were developing, but we were getting to the end of the show season and another couple of wins would put us ahead in the club championships.”
“Matey, I knew ya had changed bits and I knew ya was havin problems. Ya don’t always see me, but I’m always watchin. I was waitin for ya to come and talk to me about it. But ya didn’t. Why not?”
“I don’t know Walt. I guess I figured I could work on fixing the problems after the show season ended. I just needed a few more points to finish up the season and I thought once that is done and we have the championship I would have plenty of time to work with Moz before the next season. I was going to get you to help me fix all the undoing I had done.”
“Winning is that important to ya, is it?” Walt asked.
“Well, competing is so much fun. I love it and when we come home with ribbons it feels fantastic,” I answered.
“Does it feel just as good when ya don’t go home with any ribbons?” was Walt’s next question.
“Well, no. I guess losing is not nearly as much fun as winning Walt.”
“So ya sayin the amount of pleasure ya get from ridin Moz depends on whether he wins a competition or not. Is that it, matey?”
“Well, no. It’s not like that. Well maybe. But it’s not as simple as that.” I began to clutch for the right answer.
“Matey, d’ya remember the first time ya rode Moz?”
“Yeah. I remember.”
“D’ya remember how much fun ya said it was? How it was the best ride ya had ever had. D’ya remember?”
“Yes. I remember that!” I said slightly irritated.
“Is it still the best ride ya have ever had, matey?”
“I dunno. I guess so,” I said.
“There weren’t no blue ribbons at the end of that ride if I recall rightly,” Walt stated. “That was a fun ride ‘cause ya felt somethin that a horse could give ya that ya ain’t ever felt before. Ya felt Moz give over more of himself than ya had ever felt any horse give before. It was special.”
“Yeah. I guess so Walt”
“Matey, have ya felt Moz give that much or more in the last few months?”
“No Walt. I guess not. I guess if anything he has given less. The only thing Moz has given me more of is resistance and worry. I know that. I know I screwed up. That’s why I feel ashamed. He is your horse and you trusted me with him and I let you down. It’s not me being mad at you. It’s you that should be mad at me. I’m sorry.”
“Matey, the only thing ya should feel ashamed about is being a teenager. But that ain’t ya fault. When it comes to competition, lots of people let their ego get in the way of their horsemanship. Ribbons validate our skill as horse people to the rest of the world. It’s a measure of talent that we can show people. But it’s fake. Horses don’t care about ribbons or coming first or last.
There ain’t nothin wrong with competin or in winnin ribbons. It’s all okay. But when the competition gets to bein more important than the horse, then ya have lost ya way in my book. Nothin is more important than ya horse and ya horsemanship. There will always be other shows and other chances to win ribbons. But if ya horse ain’t right, if he’s tellin ya somethin is wrong and ya ain’t listenin then ya ain’t ever gonna feel what ya felt on that first ride. And you already know that was the best feelin ya ever had in the saddle. Why would ya ever want to sacrifice that for a piece of ribbon ya could buy in a shop for a dollar?”
“I know Walt. I know you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you if you never let me near Moz again. I wish I could do it all over again, but I can’t and I’m sorry.”
“I know ya are, matey. I know. But listen. I still need ya to work him till I find a buyer. Me and Amos will help ya get Moz on track again, but would ya do that for me?”
“Are you sure, Walt?”
“Yeah, I reckon it’s a good idea.”
“Okay. That’d be great. But are you ever going to be able to sell him? It’s been about a year now and nobody has even come to look at him.”
“Well matey, to be honest, we ain’t been lookin too hard for a buyer. Me and Amos reckoned you could do with a good honest horse like Moz to teach somethin about committin to a horse over the long term. I think it’s a lesson ya startin to learn so we will be lookin for a buyer soon. But until then ya need to put some time into him.”
I was very excited but scared about working Moz again. It seemed an even bigger responsibility now than it did when Walt first asked me a year ago. I desperately didn’t want to screw up again. Walt helped me work on getting Moz to let go of his anxiety and soften his thoughts. He was such a terrific horse that it took less time than I imagined possible. I did get to jump him again in a couple of shows and we did pretty well. But Walt and Amos needed to sell him and so I had to let him go. Fortunately, the boss bought him for his daughter and I was able to see him all the time and he had a good life.
I look back now at what the old man did and feel ashamed that at the time I never appreciated my good fortune at having Walt and Amos in my life. The way they guided and guarded me was enough to make a fellow think they cared.
This story comes from a volume of short stories I wrote called Changing The Tide. It is available from this web site or from most good online book outlets.
