King of the Mountain

This past Tuesday I had to have Jake, my wonderful dog and companion, put down. He had toe cancer. Apparently black male standard poodles are prone to toe cancer. Sounds almost silly. It's not. Jake was 10 years old.

We had two of his toes removed a couple of years ago, and we made the decision that if other toes became cancer-ridden, that we weren't going to keep cutting off body parts. It was a hard decision.

When Jake was a puppy, he would climb up on this large rock (nearly 5 feet high) in our front yard. Often he would be holding a frisbee in his mouth that he had successfully retrieved. We called him "King of the Mountain."

And he really was King of the Mountain.

It's odd coming home without seeing his big fluffy "fro," and that dangling pink tongue. Jake was big and black, and strangers were always terrified of him. So funny considering he was essentially a 75lb lap dog. Jake was truly the best dog ever.

I miss him.

Last year this time I had to put down my horse Arete because of tumors behind her eyes that were causing her pain. She was 26. You can find her portrait in the Forever Sky break room. She looked exactly like Sky. I miss her too.

When I got home yesterday, I sat down at my desk and the first thing I saw was a picture of Leslie and her horse, Rico. Looking at the picture brought fresh tears to my eyes. Like Arete, Rico was 26 years old when he crossed over the rainbow bridge. He went quietly. One day they simply found him lying down in the field. Peaceful. At rest.

Are we gluttons for punishment? We take these creatures into our homes and hearts. They become family. And yet we are destined to lose them.

Sky will be 26 next month. And while she acts like a bratty 3-year-old, I know she's not. I sometimes wonder when I'll have to say goodbye.

But it's not something I dwell on.

Losing Jake was hard, but it reaffirms for me my belief that you never know when your last moment alive will be. Nothing is certain. And so we must live every day in a way that fulfills us and makes us proud. We must live with Integrity. Joy. Fortitude. Reckless abandon. Tenderness. Compassion. And most of all, Love.

Take time today--and everyday--to really hug your family and your friends. Pet your dogs and cats. Wrap your arms around your horse. Take a moment to cherish the living beings in your life, whether they walk on two legs or four. Tell them you love them.

Take time to do the things that are really important.

Love more. Laugh more. Live more.

Famous Last Words

Thursday I had a great lesson on Sky. When we were finished, I was feeling so good, I wanted to keep riding. So I tacked up Bingo, the pony who is dead calm for children but will spook at his own shadow if an adult is on his back. While I was trotting Bingo around the arena, Leslie was having a lesson on Barney, her 20-yr-old thoroughbred.

I wanna ride Bingo!" said Leslie. (Everyone loves Bingo.) Leslie was frustrated with Barney because he was doing beautiful flying lead changes which would have gotten perfect marks for Level 3 dressage, but she was trying to get him to work on the Level 1 test.

"Wanna switch?" I asked.

"Absolutely!"

So when Leslie finished her lesson, I gave her Bingo, and she gave me Barney.

Barney is AWESOME. He stands at 16.3 hands and has the most amazing stride.

"You have to be firm with him," warned Leslie, "or he'll take off with you. He can be a butt."

"I'm not worried about him taking off with me," I said. (Famous Last Words.)

I could tell Barney was excited when I first got on him. Whether it was from just coming out of a lesson or from all the jumps in the arena, I didn't know. (Barney had once been a gold metal jumper. He had also had training under Michael Matz--the guy who trained the famous Barbaro.)

I took Barney into the dressage arena so he wasn't tempted to clear one of the jumps, and we began to canter.

His canter was almost too amazing. It felt like we were flying. I was totally comfortable in the saddle. The only problem was that once we were in that flying canter, I forgot to actually RIDE. I was leaning forward, and so Barney kept going faster. As we approached the edge of the plastic dressage fence, I suddenly realized I had no control what-so-ever. I looked at that little plastic fence and thought, "He's jumping out of this arena."

I prepared myself for exiting the dressage arena, but all of Barney's training must have kicked in at the last minute. He suddenly made a sharp turn to the right. If he had been a car, his tires would have squeeled. I, on the other hand, kept going in the same direction, at which point I "was separated" from Barney. Unfortunately, I landed on my back on that plastic dressage fence. Ouch.

"I should never have written that blog about the Physics of falling off a horse," I said to Janine when we got back to the barn.

"That's the bare basics of physics," said Janine. "If you want to get into real physics, you'd have to calculate the velocity of the horse, your velocity, and the angle at which you were separated."

Definition of acceleration: a = (Vf – Vi)/Δt
*motion equation: Vf2 = Vi2 + 2aΔx
*linear motion equation: Δy = Vyit + ½ ayt2

Hmmm. Okay. Maybe not. I think I'd rather fall of a horse than do anything resembling Janine's homework. Besides, the calculator on my iPhone doesn't have sine and cosine.

"Were you tense at all?" asked Leslie later that evening, when we were chilling out in the break room. "You looked really relaxed."

I laughed. "You mean relaxed as I was flying through the air?"

"Well, yeah. You seemed pretty calm."

I probably had been. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but I don't worry about falling off.

"And I can't believe you got back on," Leslie continued.


"Well, it wasn't his fault," I said. "I was leaning forward. He was doing exactly what he thought I wanted him to do. He's a good horse. I can't wait to ride him again."


The next day, my body hurt from head to toe.

When I told Alexis how stiff and sore I was, she had only one thing to say.

"Stay on next time."

Thank you, Alexis. It's good advice. I think I'll take it, along with some Ibuprofen.

DO NOT DISTURB

Janine is the most assiduous, hard-working woman I have ever known, and her focus is unflappable. Okay, well, maybe that last part isn't exactly true...not if her Forever Sky family has anything to do with it.

Janine is taking an online physics course through UWF as part of her pre-vet degree. Her class is required to use a certain computer program that simply will not run on Janine's laptop, so she is stuck using the computer in the FSR break room. Our break room is the social center of the ranch, and people are in and out all day, which means that every five minutes someone is saying,

"Oh, Janine! Hey, I didn't see you there. What's up with you?"

Random people interrupting Janine's study time on the computer would not be an issue if

1) Janine liked Physics

OR

2) Janine didn't enjoy chatting.

(She really needs a sign to put on her back that says DO NOT DISTURB.)

I have to admit I am guilty of hogging Janine's time. She's such a delight to be around. She's straightforward and funny, sweet as she can be, honest, caring.... I could go on. She's just lovely. It's hard not to talk to her, especially when she's right there.

And unfortunately for Janine's school work, Janine would rather



It was especially hard for her to concentrate this past Sunday because we had the Forever Sky Schooling Show going on. Not only was she bombarded with boarders and guests talking to her, she also had to deal with the temptation of going outside and watching everyone ride.

You can guess what Janine chose to do. I would have made the same choice.

The show was FANTASTIC!

All the riders looked great. Really great. And there was plenty of laughter, especially when we discovered that Nugget had doused Bingo in glitter and put blue bows in his mane. (Poor Bingo, he's so abused.) For me, it was wonderful seeing all those new horses in the barn. But I have to say that Sky didn't think it was so great. She got kicked out of her stall for the day so another horse could use it. In her book, that's outright betrayal. She used some pretty foul horsey language when I checked on her in the pasture. I tell you what, that's a mare who knows how to pout. But hey, she's Arabian.

And I LOVE Arabians.

It's rare that I find someone as enamored with Arabians as I am, so it was such a delight to see Keri Sims and her mother, Leslie Leland, out with their beautiful Arabian ponies. Tstardust, pictured here on the left, got quite fond of using my body as a scratching post for her sweaty face. Yes, I already miss that horse.



Horses. Rides. Ribbons. Laughter. Glitter. Bows. Yummy muffins. (Did I mention there was food???) Our own Indiana Jones even showed up to help out, as did our resident model!


It was a great show.

And I'm not worried about Janine. As far as physics goes, what horsewoman (or man) doesn't understand the principles of Physics? We totally get Newton's law of motion: An object at rest tends to stay at rest, and an object in motion tends to stay in motion, with the same direction and speed.

It's simple. If you're galloping down a trail or cantering up to a jump and your horse suddenly comes to a screeching halt, your body continues moving...with the same direction and speed...right past the horse. And THEN the law of gravity comes into play. You hit the ground.

We horse people have Physics down to a science.

Where studying is concerned, Janine is a master. I for one caught her writing formulas on the barn whiteboard. (REALLY glad I was an English major. Wow.) But as dedicated as she is, I suppose we should stop giving her excuses to leave the computer and join the play. Don't worry Janine. We love you! I'll make sure you get that DO NOT DISTURB sign.

Don't Hate Her 'Cause She's Beautiful.

Don't let the title fool you. I'm not talking about my arrogant Arabian, Sky--(and yes, I know that using Arrogant and Arabian in the same sentence is a redundancy.) I'm talking about Anna.

Take a minute to travel back to your high school days. You remember that girl...the girl who was drop dead gorgeous, who made perfect grades, who was kind, happy, approachable (so approachable that you were afraid to approach her), and above all, genuine...not to mention skinny. The girl who was so perfect you wanted to hate her, but you couldn't.

(Okay, maybe you hated her just a litte bit.)

Well, we have her at Forever Sky. Her name is Anna. Anna Kimura.

Anna has a horse named Sonny. Sonny is big and beautiful, sleek and shiny. He's almost as spectacular as Anna.

(Okay, now I'm probably embarrassing Anna and making her mom really proud--She has the perfect mom, too, btw.)

Today is Anna's birthday. She is now 17. (I know,(insert sarcasm) Over the Hill!) I often forget how young she is when I'm around her--possibly because she's just shy of 6 feet tall. Did I mention that Anna is a model? I know. Her perfection verges on absurdity.

She has a contract with Elite Chicago, a classy modeling agency. In fact, Anna just returned from Chicagoland, where she joined other girls from all over the U.S. for a debutante--a coming out party--for new models. "When the lights dimmed," says Anna, "we walked the runway amidst a shower of camera flashes and applause. For the first time, I felt like a real model."

While in Chigaco, the other models kept asking her how she had such good posture even though she was one of the tallest models. "Try riding a horse three times a week," she would say. "Slouching isn't an option, unless you plan on falling off."

And Anna isn't one to fall off, not in any aspect of her life.

Anna just finished her Junior year at PHS. She's in the IB program, which is the most demanding, intense college prep program in the area. Yes, she succeeds academically too.

"Congratulations," I told her, "on getting excellence awards in Math and English."

Anna's eyes clouded just a bit before lighting up again. "How did you know about that?"

"You're mom put it on Facebook."

She rolled her eyes. "I told my mom if she was going to get a Facebook page, the requirement would be that she couldn't talk about me."

I laughed. Later, when Anna added me as a "friend" on Facebook, I told her "Don't go giving your mom a hard time now that you can see all her posts talking about how fantastic you are. Face it. You're fantastic and your mom is proud of you!"

"Jolee," she replied, "I HAVE to give her a hard time! It's my job as a daughter!"

Yes, she has a good sense of humor too...

You can find Anna at Forever Sky Ranch, riding (or swimming!) with her horse. When you see her walk by, you may at first be taken aback by her aura of beauty and perfection, but take a step closer, and you'll see she is a down-to-earth, caring, horse-loving girl who's easy to talk to and a pleasure to have around.

We love you, Anna! Have a great day, and a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Another One Bites the Dust

Word to the wise: When you have a horse who is prone to buck, who has been severely abused, who often FREAKS OUT for no good reason, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT lean all the way back in the saddle and SLAP her on the butt to kill a fly.

Just don't do it.

Yes, Naysa bucked me off today. It's the second time I have been "separated" from her during a ride. She has attempted to buck me off on other occasions, without success, but today she caught me off guard and off balance, (i.e. reclining on her backside with the reins at the buckle actually smacking her on the butt.)

There is no question. I am an idiot.

The first buck sent me flying forward, the second buck sent me over her head in a somersault. I landed flat on my back.

Naysa remained where she was, looking at me like, "WHAT?"

Once I regained my composure (and my breath), I put my foot in the stirrup to get back in the saddle, but the girth wasn't tight enough so the saddle slipped a bit, sending Naysa into another bucking frenzy. I tightened the girth, walked her forward a bit, then put my foot in the stirrup again. This time she let me mount without problem, and we rode off like nothing had happened.

In the meantime, Carla's horse Sandy was attempting to get Carla off her back by rearing and bucking, and Leslie's horse Barney was shaking his horse head, looking back at his mom as if to say, "What's their problem?"

Naysa's first response to new stimuli is to buck. The first time I pressed my heals into her sides (gently, mind you) to ask her to go forward, she bucked. The first time I rode her bareback, she bucked, The first time she had a bit in her mouth when I was on her back, she bucked. The first time she had a rider lean back and smack her on the butt, she bucked. And the first time she felt the saddle slip to the side, she bucked.

It's simply her response to new things. That's who she is. Something different happens, and suddenly she's no longer herself. She is no longer my Naysa. She is that malnourished, tortured, beaten, bloody horse with a gaping hole in her face whose spirit refuses to let her die.

Once she has experienced something, it no longer triggers her bucking response. I can press her side to make her go. I can ride her bareback and with a bit. And I'm sure from now on I can swat flies off her backside. She's just scared of new things. Aren't we all?

Actually, I don't mind when she bucks. I just hate hitting the ground.

Score!

The Blue Angel horse show this past weekend was simply fantastic. All of the Forever Sky riders did exceptionally well, and we are so proud of them. In the midst of all that pride, as well as the laughing, tacking, joking, riding, and running around with Forever Sky T-shirts like a big green cult, there was always one focus.

"What was your score?" you would hear again and again, as each rider came back, carrying a ribbon and her dressage test in hand.

Scores.

We've dealt with them all our lives. Numbers that can have a lasting impact on us. Numbers that might not mean a thing, and numbers that mean everything.

My two sons--twins, age six--are constantly in a race. They each want to get their clothes on first, brush their teeth first, enter or exit first.... They are sometimes so violent about it that I start to wonder if that's why the last couple of weeks of my pregnancy were so difficult. Were they fighting to see who would be born first too?

I find myself literally pulling my hair to keep from screaming at them, but today as I watched them argue about who should have their cereal poured first, I laughed. I know that their desire to "win" is a natural part of their makeup, as frustrating as it is for me. But what they don't realize yet is that winning is complicated. Sometimes we actually lose when we win, and sometimes we win when we lose.

I've always believed that we learn more by losing than by winning. When you tote a blue ribbon around--or an A on a paper or test--you feel like you're on top of the world. You're the best. You're great. You WON. And when you get that A or blue ribbon, you are less likely to pay attention to any criticism that comes with it, criticism that would make whatever you are doing better.

I think that's why I really like the way dressage tests are scored. Leslie got her first 60 this weekend, and she was bouncing around like a rabbit on amphetamines. Okay, maybe she wasn't THAT hyped up, but she was pretty darn happy.

(Side comment: Congratulations, Leslie!! You and Barney were awesome!)

Back in "the day" (why do people say that, btw?), if I had made a 60 on a test, I would have been horrified. Even 90s were out of the question at my house. If I got a 97, my mom would ask, "What happened to the other 3 points?" Some people have thought those words were a bit harsh, but they weren't. My mom taught me to believe I could always do better. Of course she was happy with my 97, that was a given, but she kept me working to achieve my very best, and I thank her for it every day. Forever Sky probably wouldn't exist had she never asked about those missing points.

What is interesting about the scores on dressage tests is that NOBODY expects to get a 100 on their test. Even the idea of an 80 or 90 is laughable. "In dressage," says Alexis, "if you are consistently scoring in the upper 60s and lower 70s, it's time for you to move on to the next level."

I like that.

No person can ever be perfect. No horse can ever be perfect. Certainly no horse and rider combination can be perfect. And so dressage teaches us to look for the commentary on the test, to look for how we can do better instead of whether or not we got the highest score, or the blue ribbon.

Yes, it's true, some of my Forever Sky family walked away with blue ribbons this weekend, but you know what they were focused on--the commentary on the test, not the ribbon. They were interested in how they could improve their riding.

I want to improve my riding, of course. But I am most interested in how I can improve Forever Sky Ranch. When I am at the ranch, I see all those missing points. And I plan to work for those points hard.

So if you're out at Forever Sky for a visit, you might suddenly hear someone shout "SCORE!" No need for concern. That will be me, hands in the air, happy to have accomplished one more thing to make the ranch a better place for my FSR family and their horses.

Walking on Sunshine--or Maybe Flying Through Clouds

Have you ever met someone so happy and upbeat and energetic that just being around them makes you feel like the sun is shining, even if there are dark clouds in the sky?

I have. Her name is Aubrey.

Even though Aubrey doesn't have her own horse, there is no doubt that she is an important part of the Forever Sky Family. When she walks into the barn, it really is like someone turned on the lights--or flipped the radio station to some kind of awesome dance music.

Don't stop, make it rock, DJ blow my speakers up. Tonight, I'mma fight, till I see the sunlight...

(Yes, Aubrey, I know Annie doesn't like the Tik Tok song.)

We can actually thank Google for bringing Aubrey into our life at Forever Sky. She was looking for a good trainer in the area. So she googled (I still can't belive that's a verb now) and that's how she found Alexis. "After our first lesson," says Aubrey, "I knew I'd be coming back. I didn't even go ride with anyone else. I called up and canceled the other intro lessons I had scheduled."

Yes, it's true. Alexis really is THAT good.

Aubrey is from Enumclaw, Washington, a city built on a plateau formed by volcanic mudflow. "It sits right at the base of Mt. Rainier, an active volcano," says Aubrey, "which is pretty cool, well, y'know, till it explodes!" The name Enumclaw is derived from a local Native American word meaning "strong wind" or "thundering noise." Aubrey definately lives up to her city's name. She may not make a lot of noise (okay, well, sometimes) but she has such a powerful personality that she enters the barn like a strong wind. Or maybe like Twilight's Alice...she DOES come from Washington after all, with all that rain and greenery.

You can find Aubrey at the barn with Sky or Cymba or Bingo or Tucker...she was even going to groom Naysa the other day, but I took off on a trail ride about the time she pulled up to the barn. She loves being around the horses. She loves riding. "It's challenging, and it's frustrating, and it's relaxing, and it's a thrill all at the same time," says Aubrey. "It doesn't matter what day I've had, how I'm feeling, or how other people are feeling about me, riding makes me focus in the moment. And I like working with the horse, whether we're in the arena, out on the trail, or it's just a grooming session. I take care of and trust them, and they take care of and trust me. It also fulfills the adrenaline junkie in me, as if flight school doesn't take care of that!"

Yes, she said "flight school." Aubrey is in the Navy, training to be a pilot. Okay, you can close your mouth now. It's true. She's a gorgeous, funny, magnetic horsewoman who also flys planes.

Settle down guys. She's taken.

Aubrey is almost finished with her primary training, at which point she will go on to specialize in a certain type of aircraft. "Hopefully I'll be staying in Milton and learning to fly helicopters," says Aubrey. "Which is good, because it means I can stay at Forever Sky."

And we DO want her to stay.

She's family.