Love Will Find It’s Way | A Nice Horse Story

By: Eliza Dandridge

I acquired him like I acquired my other horse. I was going to work with him, but I fell in love. With Sierra, it was just lust. She was a big beautiful mare. She should have been a, then, thirteen year old girl’s perfect first horse, had it not been for her horrible attitude under saddle. I was bucked off of her more times than I had ever been bucked off of any horse in my ten years of riding. But with Bear, it was love. From the first time I saw him, to today when I went out to the stable and rode him and fed him. True love never comes easy though. You always have to give up something, in my case; it involved a lot of pain.

I got him because he bit and he kicked, and he was just an all around aggressive horse, not suitable for a young rider. I was just going to train him, but I fell in love with him. Something about his big brown eyes, his bouncy trot, and those wrinkles around his eyes and his nostrils. He was a special horse, I could tell that from the start.

He arrived the last weekend in February. A cool day, a typical February day. His owners gave him a bath for me, and he came still half wet. I put a blanket on him so he wouldn’t get cold, and I put him in the ring so he could meet my other horses over the fence without going out into their field and meeting them. They got along just fine. They trotted up and down the fence line together, and he lay down and rolled, getting sand in his mane and his clean coat. This was the start of a long month.

I rode him that day. He was too shocked at the home change to do anything bad. It was the second time I’d ever ridden him, and it was just like I expected. He didn’t know what I meant when I pulled the reins for him to go one way. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to be doing. But he was good on the ground for the most part that day. We stayed and watched the horses for a few hours to make sure they got along pretty well, and they did. We left the little barn that evening around six in the afternoon, and we returned the next morning around eleven.

My sister opened the gate, and walked into the field to get her horse, expecting nothing of Bear. She turned her back, and as soon as she did he flew at her. His ears were pinned. I threw my hands up and he backed off, and slunk into the corner of their run-in shed. I went to get him, he pinned his ears, but didn’t run at me.
As I groomed him, he kept his ears pinned the whole time. When I tacked him up, he tried to bite and kick as I put the saddle on and tightened the girth. I got on, and he was perfect while I rode him. As soon as I got off the cycle started again.

The next day, he did the exact same thing. Except this time, when my mom came out in the morning to put medicine on his cut he got on the ride over to our farm, he picked her up in his mouth and dropped her on the ground. She got up, dusted herself off, smacked him, and left. But the next morning her whole side was bruised from his aggression. This was just the start of a long process of getting him to calm down.

I remember one day, my sister and I sat in the grain room and watched them eat in the paddock that surrounded the grain room. “I wish Bear would just die or something,” my sister had said. I replied with “He would be worth the money we paid for him, if he was a stallion, but he’s no stallion. So as soon as Mom pays him off, I’m going to sell him.” Those words still haunt me today.

Bear’s training progressed. He learned how to walk, trot and canter correctly and he began to learn to jump small jumps, but his attitude didn’t get better. Finally I decided to sell my other horse. After she left he started to improve, and every day I was able to spend more and more time with him. Brushing him, and talking to him, getting him used to people.

My mom and my sister weren’t the only ones left with scars and bruises. I also was bitten numerous times. But never once did I lose my temper, or did I ever give up on him. There have been many times, when he’s been “for sale,” but never once did I actually sell him, and never once did I not cry for even thinking about selling him. I am convinced that he is my soul mate.

Now when I call for him, he comes up to the gate, sometimes at a slow walk, sometimes at a gallop. He knows my voice and me. He’s still aggressive and will bite or kick if you aren’t careful. But he’s getting better every day. He’s learning to be a real horse. He’s learning how to get along with people.

Like I said, true love isn’t without it’s set backs and it’s problems. My love for Bear has had plenty of set backs and even more problems. But every problem, and every scar I have from his bites, and every bruise I have from falling off of him for whatever reason, has been worth all the pain.

Because now I have something worth every doubt I’ve ever had. I have a horse that will be mine till the end and who will never judge me for how I look. I’ll always have a horse who will just sit and stare at me, like he understands when I talk about my bad day and he’ll always be the horse who does something to make me laugh when I’m crying. He’ll always be my horse, and I’ll always love him. Like they say, love will always find its way.