This is a lovely article. I can identify with Lori, from a different
standpoint.
When Dad bought Red Wing, the then 2-yr App with foal even though
the
seller said she wasn't, RW was very 'touchy'; she would
bee-bopp/jump
when she switched her tail (while riding) and it touched her body.
Well, Dad
(only 84) wasn't sure about my riding RW; but she and I
became immediate
buddies. We decided that if a horse was ever
abused, she was. She was the
only horse that we had that would ground tie, and
I could open/shut a gate
(think 12') while mounted. She and our dog
Barker only tolerated each
other, but one time while she was sick
(Dad had given her medicine and
walked her until he was tired), Barker
took over. Yes, he 'chased' RW until
she started feeling better. Dad and I
just stared. {Also, thanks to God for
RW and B getting along and that RW
improved.} Afterwards, Barker went
back to tolerating RW.
Ugoforward, Karen
THE "CAN DO" GIRL
As I stood in the driveway
watching my daughter Lori with her long red
hair flying behind her --
and Maggie, part quarter horse, part Appaloosa,
with ears that looked
all mule, I smiled. They were running down the dirt
country road near
our home as they did everyday since Lori was given the
opportunity to
ride "the big horse."
I remembered when we bought Maggie. My son
Jeff, Lori, and I went to see
her, and a Shetland pony, with the
possibility of purchasing them. We
ended up buying both the spirited 3
1/2 year old filly, and the feisty
little pony we called
Ben.
Maggie was a bit thin, but healthy and stood 16.5 hands high
(a good size
for a horse.) In the days that followed we wormed her, had
her hoofs filed
and shod, gave her a lengthy bath, a good brushing and
began to introduce
her to her new surroundings.
Jeff was the
first to ride her. Maggie wasn't too happy with him and
didn't like the
bit used on her bridle -- so getting her saddled, bridled
and ready to
ride was always a chore. She was a mover, and loved to run.
The trouble
was she also liked to run right under tree branches, knocking
the rider
to the ground. Maggie proved to be a hand full when she ran
under a
branch and Jeff ended up breaking a couple of ribs.
During this
time, Lori (who had only been on the smaller Shetlands and
Welch
ponies) bugged me constantly to let her ride Maggie. Knowing what
it
took to control Maggie, I always denied Lori a chance to get on
her.
At the end of a rather hectic day, Lori again pleaded with me
to let her
ride Maggie. Tired of her constant nagging, I gave in and
told her I would
let her ride the horse for a short time, but if she
got hurt it was to be
the last time I wanted to hear her ask. She
agreed.
I helped her get everything out of the tack shed. We put on
the blanket,
then the saddle. Finally, the bridle. Maggie not only
stood there quietly,
but actually lowered her head into the bridle as
Lori held it up. I
buckled the strap and taking a deep breath, told
Lori to climb into the
saddle. Maggie's big brown eyes seemed serene,
and one ear turned back
toward my daughter sitting proudly on the back
of this "wild" animal. Lori
took hold of the reins and began to walk
Maggie around the driveway. They
went through trees to the dirt road
and back to the house. To my amazement
the horse was a perfect lady.
Lori's 'brief' ride turned into more than an
hour, and when she got off
the horse she said her legs "feel like jelly."
The next morning
Maggie was at the fence nearest the house and 'calling'
for Lori. Oh,
we thought it was hay she wanted, but we soon learned it was
Lori's
wake up call. Lori would grab something to eat, then out the door
she'd
fly with something special for Maggie (a carrot, apple, etc.)
It
wasn't long before the two could be seen running over the hills in
our
area. Neighbors always on the lookout for Lori and Maggie, then
letting me
know they were nearby. There were times Lori rode Maggie to
our little
country church and tied her to a tree in the back. The kids
loved it and
would take turns sitting on Maggie as Lori walked them
through the trees
and back again.
Lori and Maggie would go down
to the lake behind our place for afternoon
swims together, or visit
neighbors along the back roads. The story may not
seem so unusual to
most, but to me it was a miracle. You see, Lori is
developmentally
disabled (it used to be called retarded) and while I
always tried to
encourage her to go beyond the limits doctors set, nothing
did more for
her than Maggie.
Doctors, teachers, programs, and even I, often
failed my daughter, but
Maggie taught her more about responsibility,
love, and independence than
any human could have. In this case, the
'teacher' not only taught the
student -- she taught me a valuable
lesson as well. To let go!
What if I had not given Lori the
opportunity to ride Maggie that evening?
How sad it would have been
for my daughter if I had not allowed her to
stretch the limits one more
time.
Today she is still stretching her limits. She lives on her
own, maintains
her own apartment, budgets her money, and is proving she
CAN do it despite
the doctors who said she couldn't.
-- Susan
Stevens (copyright 1999)
used with permission
