Funny how we change

I've had several horses in the years I've been married and living in the country. The first one was a green-broke mare (she was only two, so I guess she was really just a filly) named Ginger who wasn't much to brag about: she'd shy at the rustle of a leaf, and if you asked her to step across a tiny ditch, she'd brace herself and finally jump across it as though it were the Grand Canyon. I had small children back then, so I could only ride when Cliff was home to watch the babies.

Sometime in the '70's we owned a young Foxtrotter gelding I was really fond of. But I had a job at the time, and decided I wasn't riding him enough to merit keeping him around.

I've always said that I wouldn't keep a horse around if he wasn't being ridden. I see so many "pasture ornament" horses that nobody ever messes with, and I've laughed at people who'd waste money on a horse they never ride. Upkeep on a horse is expensive, you know?

But I guess I've gotten soft in my old age. Because I've told Cliff many times that as long as we're able to keep up with this place in the country, Blue isn't going anywhere. Whether I'm able to ride or not, he has a retirement home.

Cliff has accepted that; he even knows that I want Blue to go to a blogger friend in Oklahoma, if anything happens to me and he can't keep him.

One fear I have is that we'll have to part with this place before Blue dies, because he's only thirteen years old, and many horses live into their thirties. I'm sixty-three; can we keep up with this place for twenty more years? Dear Lord, we'll be in our eighties! And why on earth do I worry about the future of a horse in this manner?

Now Libby has worked her way into my heart in the same way.

I don't know what possessed me to buy a young filly in the first place; I certainly didn't need her. I saw the ad in the Kansas City Star, saw the words "bay" and "Foxtrotter" (like Blue) and just had to go look at her and make an offer. Stupid me.

Libby's only fault is that she's young. I could have saved myself the recent money I spent trying to get her trained by simply waiting for a couple of years and doing what I've been doing, because she has always had wonderful manners and a desire to please. She's just a "kid", and her attention span is short. And I was impatient and wanted to be able to safely ride her NOW. Don't ask me why I was in such a hurry, since I have Blue to ride.

Somebody on the local Craigslist has a Jersey cow with an adopted calf for sale. I could probably work out a reasonable trade, since the lady told me in email that they wanted to sell the calf next summer so they'll have money to buy their kids a horse.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't offer Libby to anyone; yesterday I stood between my two horses with a big, warm equine jaw against each cheek, hugging both their necks, and I realized I'm stuck with two animals I cannot bear to part with, even if I were never to ride Libby. How does a mother sell her children?

Yes, I guess I've gotten soft in my old age.