My friend and I are supposed to have riding lessons on Saturday. It’s supposed to rain Friday night and part of Saturday morning, so there is a chance things will be too wet to ride.
Before my ride, my friend suggested maybe we could haul our horses to my instructor’s barn and use her indoor arena. This would normally seem like a perfectly reasonable solution since Breezy has had her first trailering lesson and did very well. It’s a good opportunity for her to have a visit off the farm in a controlled environment.
Except I started shaking when the suggestion was made. It took me all of the time tacking up and walking around the arena before I got on to calm myself down. Breezy was also up. There were shadows outside the ring. The Paso Fino in the paddock across from the ring was galloping around his paddock. She did eventually come back to me. We worked through it and ended up having a very good ride under the lights in the ring. I felt so positive with her. Such a good girl.
I talked to the barn manager about trailering and told her I felt really nervous about it. Maybe it was me, maybe it wasn’t warranted. I just couldn’t shake the feeling and wasn’t sure why.
Until the drive home. The last time I had opened the trailer was when we took Kasane to the vet hospital. I remember so clearly when we arrived at the vet hospital and the top doors were open. Kasane had gone down in the trailer. Her head was up resting on the chest bar and the rest of her was on the floor of the trailer. Thankfully, she wasn’t tied.
It is a heart-wrenching thing to see your horse like that and to have that be one of the last memories that you have. That and her constantly shaking from the pain and unable to stand from something that you can’t fix, that you can’t make go away.
All of that came flooding back. I spent a good bit of my evening crying and explaining to my riding instructor that I probably couldn’t trailer Breezy up on Saturday. We might get there okay, but I would be a basket case and wouldn’t be in any state to be able to ride. I told my barn manager as well, and she completely understood. She felt it too when we were talking about the trailer. Kasane had been at their farm from the day she arrived. My barn manager had the same last images to deal with of Kasane.
So I need to reclaim the trailer for Breezy. I need to open the trailer and face the last bits of my girl who might still be there and let her go. Let her be free and let our memories be the happy ones. Replace those horrifying images of her in so much pain with the joy of our last lesson. Of laughing for the sheer delight of riding her and being with her.
This weekend will be about letting go more and reclaiming another space so Breezy and I can travel.
Maybe next week Breezy and I can being our excursions but this weekend, we reclaim that space.
