My mother surprised me one day by asking what I would think of a horse named 'Nick.' At that point, I was not too picky and would have taken a mule named 'Ibuckeveryoneoff' if it meant having my own horse to ride on a daily basis. She took me out to Kinloch Farm, where I was introduced to a furry chestnut, supposed Appaloosa cross (no spots to be seen), kind eyed gelding named Nick. As it was November or December, our first mounted meeting was short and cold, but again, even if he had bucked me off six ways to Sunday, I was going to be in love with this horse anyway. Mom and Nick's owner came to some sort of agreement - the basics of which didn't concern me as I was looking at him with puppy dog eyes already...and off we went.
A new bus route after school would deliver me to the four corners about a 1/4 mile from the farm. Cold winds whipped across the fields as two or three of us would brace against the wind and snow as we trudged to the farm ready to do battle with dirty stalls and fading daylight. Not too long into the arrangement, we shipped Nick up to the local barn where I had been riding for the past few years. A 'fancy show barn' by the standards of the day, Nick found his niche quickly, earning a reputation as an escape artist when his stall was being cleaned. We spent that first winter getting to know each other. I had been warned that his past involved some abuse and that he tended to be a bit 'spooky.' I didn't fully appreciate as well that he had been trained as a Western pleasure mount at some point and some of my English cues would result in him changing directions rapidly (usually leaving me still facing the original direction, but not on his back anymore!) Eventually we came to a pretty good understanding and most of the time, he let me stay on his back.
I learned quickly what a horse heavy on his forehand feels like. I learned to stay on during a quick relocation from the rail to the center of the ring, should someone unexpectedly poke their head into the ring during a ride. I learned how to braid a mane and that I would have to do this for shows (poor Nick, I did some awful jobs early on!) I learned that you never, never cut the wispy parts of the mane with scissors to hide the poor braiding job you've done. I learned about four new types of bits as we tried to get his head up from it's Western trained location and make him into a hunter. I learned that horses were great confidants - anything I whispered into his mane or sobbed into his coat would go unspoken between us. I learned that Nick could hold water in his mouth for an incredibly long time, soaking me frequently as I scratched his nose.
In the spring, we rode back to Kinloch over the back roads and trails until we were home. My education in horses would only grow through my time there. Kinloch stood many Thoroughbred broodmares who were now accompanied by their foals in the damp spring weather. These foals would start as spindly legged youngsters and grow into gorgeous yearlings before heading off to the sales at Saratoga. The lessons I learned in handling the babies have served me well in the rest of my equine life and I will always appreciate that.
From the beginning, Nick had sported an odd cough and sometimes a runny nose. Varying from mild to serious, his owner and vets spent a lot of time testing and trying different meds on him to cure what was thought to be an infection of sorts. It didn't impede his performance though and we began to show on the local circuit, sometimes with success, sometimes not, but mostly in fun areas. Competition in those days was friendly and affordable - I do laugh at some of the pictures from those days though - I don't ride without a helmet or hair net ever, now, but then, my hair flew wildly from my helmet. That helmet, by the way, sported an elastic band for a chin strap!
Nick continued to teach me and we continued to board out for the winters, moving to a new barn in our 2nd or 3rd year together. His cough and nasal discharge had worsened by this time and the current thinking was an impacted tooth. I held Nick's head as the vet tranquilized him - who knew how heavy a horse's head could be when he wasn't participating in holding it up himself! Xrays showed...not what they should have. No tooth was visible as a mass took up a good portion of his sinus cavity. Off to Cornell he went, with the initial progress being poor. Although my dream at the time was to become a vet (don't all little horse crazy girls go through that phase?) I was not allowed to go to watch the procedures at Cornell. For that I will always be grateful. For though I have watched many minor horse surgeries and handle blood well, I have learned that it's different when it's your own equine companion. Fortunately, Nick came through his surgery successfully and we went to visit him at Cornell before he was allowed to come home. I remember he was prescribed 5 or 6 weeks of stall rest, with hand walking. We walked around the nearest cornfield most days and after a few days it was like having a helium balloon on the leadline. He danced and hovered somewhere above me and I hung on for dear life. Thinking back, he must have had a serious sinus headache for years and despite recovering from surgery, just the absence of that pain must have been a miracle for him.
Eventually college approached for me and it was time for me to move on. Nick returned home for a short while and also did a stint at the local college where riders either loved him or feared him! Retirement saw him returning to the pastures of his youth when he was taken in by the woman who bred him. For me, I went on to know several more horses, but I can honestly say that I have yet to learn so much again from one horse.
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