A PERSONAL TESTIMONIAL
A half-ton horse stretched his neck over the stall webbing, reaching out to me with its soft, inquisitive muzzle, and quickly exhaled his warm breath over my arm. Completely at ease, his bristly shaven upper lip wisped back and forth, tugging at my forearm and pulling me closer.
A former client from my racetrack days once told me, “Not to worry, he won’t eat you. He might chew on you for a while, but then he’ll spit you out.”
I took a moment to observe his large dark eyes that glistened with life and noticed an off-center cowlick that swirled white hairs on his brown diamond shaped forehead. I chuckled at his teased-up forelock that needed direction from a comb, but then his gesture became a little more intense. It was a request actually, to be scratched right behind his shoulder blade, over the warm muscles at the base of his withers where a saddle might set – a spot that needed an itch right now and just couldn’t be reached without help. Naturally, I obliged.
When I recently walked into the center-aisle of my friend’s show barn in Morriston amidst a panorama of fields, the fresh scent of pinewood shavings and alfalfa hay reminded me of my early years when I rode hunters and competed in equitation classes. It had been some time since I donned a helmet and chaps. On the day, I rode for sheer fun and exercise, and after nearly two hours, I realized I thought of nothing else.
My father claimed that I always had a reason to “get up” in the morning. As a young teen, the money that I earned from pulling weeds along with my school allowance, which was pocketed instead of spent on lunch went to a few hours of riding hacks on the weekends. My reverie of riding in tall black leather boots and a Harry Hall show coat for silver plates and ribbons encompassed every choice I made, from working part time jobs to studying pedigrees until I fell asleep at night.
Working full time with horses led me to a life of adventures and travel. However it was here in Ocala where the option of owning my own small farm surrounded by multi-million dollar estates and training centers that I found a landing zone in a rewarding horse environment.
Owning a horse, a farm or even just living nearby and watching them play in fields is quite gratifying. The chores that go along with farm ownership or stewardship, even a small gentlemen’s farm, leaves little excuse for dormancy or boredom. The smog-free country air lends itself to a healthy physical and mental state. Ask a horseman about their lifestyle and they will admit it can be a roller coaster ride. But ultimately, they wouldn’t have it any other way.
– Julie K. Castro
Originally published in its entirety at RealOcala.blogspot.com
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