My Wild Child Horse

When I was a very young woman I bought two horses. The first of 5 horses I would eventually have. I really didn't know a whole lot about them at the time. Much of the knowledge I have acquired since then was first through a beloved friend who taught me many, many things, but also through trial and error. 

My first horse was what was called at the time a "grade horse," meaning, without papers and not much information about the breeding. The second horse that I had was a Missouri Fox Trotter named Ginger. Well, her name was really Ginger Snap, but I always just called her Ginger. A Fox Trotter is a gaited horse, meaning their trot is different from most other horses and it gives a smooth ride instead of bouncing in the saddle.

My Ginger was a wild child! She was the craziest horse I have ever owned. If there was a way to get into trouble, Ginger would find a way to do it. She could open any gate. She could untie any knot. She could wiggle under just about any fence. She would eat anything except what she was supposed to be eating.

She loved her bridle ... not on her, of course! She loved to CHEW it! I spent countless hours pulling the reins and bridle out of her mouth. That goes for the halter too. She could grab the saddle from her back and fling it to the ground before I could get the cinch tightened.

One time when I was still boarding my horses and before we bought our own land, someone called me and said, "You need to come out here and see what your horse is doing." It was the middle of winter, and everything was frozen. I rushed out to the stable to find Ginger standing on the frozen pond! All of the other horses were smart enough not to venture onto ice, but not my Ginger! There she was, proud of herself, "skating" on the ice! I asked them to put her in another pasture!

She was a brat with the farrier too. The farrier I had smoked, and we found that Ginger loved tobacco! He kept his cigarettes in his back pocket, and while he was working, she would turn around and try to pull the cigarettes out of his pocket. Eventually, he would just hand her one to chew on before he started working!

Eventually we called her Houdini because she could get out of just about anything. Tying her to a post was an exercise in futility. She would dump hay on my head. She would grab the hood of my coat and pull it up so that my arms were useless ... yeah, there's no way she can ride me now! 

However, there were many beautiful days riding trails. Gorgeous afternoons out in the grass lazily walking along. She was a sturdy trail horse; I would put her on a trail and give her her head, and she would follow the trail. I would lie down on her neck and hold onto her mane with my head lower than hers if there were trees, and she would swiftly take us through it onto the other side. Sometimes I would ride her bareback out into the pasture and just lie down on her back and hug her neck. 

She was also my sweet girl. She would always come to me and follow me around the pasture. I loved her, and she loved me. The day that I lost my first horse to a tragic accident, I went out into the pasture to find Ginger. I grabbed her around the neck and buried my face in her mane. She put her head around me and let me stay there as long as I needed to. She was a gentle, beautiful soul, and I still miss her to this day, some 20 years after she passed.

I am introducing horse designs to my pawtee.shop. Many of the designs are inspired by Ginger! See how many of them you can spot!