My First Horse Encounter
Canva Photo
People have often asked me why I love horses as much as I do. The only answer I came up with was that I was born with the passion already coursing through my veins. I’m pretty sure the first word out of my mouth was Horses and not Mama or Dada. I remember having two wooden puzzles: one had blocks with farm animals on each side that I played with relentlessly (but only wanted to see the horse photo side when it was put together) and the second was a trotting colt with about 7 pieces that I would put into place, admire, and dump out to do it all over again (and again and again). If it wasn’t horse-related, I wasn’t having any of it.
The first time I was face to face with a horse was when I was maybe 2 years old - old enough to walk but not yet truly stable on my feet. The young woman who babysat my older brother, my younger brother, and me called my mom and asked if she wanted to bring me along to see her Thoroughbred mare’s new foal. My mother, being an avid horse lover herself, said yes. I remember being bundled up into warm clothes despite the sunny, early-spring day and heading off in the car on our horsey adventure.
When we got to the farm, I could barely wait to get out of the car. The second the door opened, I made a mad dash for the white, three-board fence but didn’t get far because my mom swooped in and grabbed me. She held my hand as we walked down to the fence, along with my horse-loving cousin, our babysitter, and her mother, who also had a horse in with the mare and foal.
The women gathered together and talked among themselves, near the fence, while I leaned against the bottom board, wanting to get closer to the horses. Our babysitter said we shouldn’t go in by them because her mare was very protective of her new foal. She didn’t want anyone getting hurt, especially me since I was so small. I, on the other hand, had other plans. I hadn’t come along only to stand apart from the horses. I wanted a closer look.
As the women talked, I waited for the right moment when they weren’t paying attention to me. When it presented itself, I slipped between the fence boards and beelined right for the mare and her new foal. I remember standing by the mare’s left, front leg and the top of my head coming up to about her knee. Her soft nose dipped down and snuffed my head and my hand with her warm breath. I reached up and touched the soft hair on her leg and girth area. Then, her foal and the other horse in the pasture came over to investigate. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. The smell of their horse coats and manure, plus their occasional soft sneezes and hay chewing had a calming effect on me. I knew on a cellular level that I was in my element around these HORSES.
“Where’s Kerri?” was nervously shouted by our babysitter after several minutes.
“She’s in by the horses!” my mother said.
The group of women shot over to the fence in front of me. I think the babysitter crawled over the fence and came to get me, much to my disappointment. I did NOT want my horse time interrupted. I was having a quiet, wonderful time with them. I’d discovered how super-soft the foal’s nose was and didn’t want to stop touching it. The babysitter had to grab me and lift me away, not only because I didn’t want to leave but also because her mare came at her with barred teeth!
When we were safely on the other side of the fence (her words, not mine), my mother grabbed and gripped my hand the rest of the time we were there, preventing me from carrying out any new plans I might have had to go back in. I knew I was defeated and had to behave myself. It would be several years before I got to ride for the first time, but I never forgot my time with that mare and her foal. What a wonderful discovery of trust and love so early in life.
