A bit of sappiness and a bit of information about this whole I-train-horses thing...

It began when I was ten with a horse named Jack. He was eight at the time and knew absolutely nothing except that he didn't want to be ridden. I stuck with him despite his best efforts to get rid of me. Now he's nineteen years old (getting older for a horse, but no one has told him that yet), and he's the picture of perfection (in my completely unbiased opinion :-) ). Jack and I have done everything possible, from chasing cows to jumping four-foot-high jumps. Sadly, the late start he got (most horses begin their real training at three or four) and the fact that I've been in college two thousand miles away mean that he'll never do great things in competition, at least as far as spectators are concerned, but to me he has done the greatest things possible, because I know where he came from and how far he's gotten.

Last summer ('99) I worked in a barn in County Kerry, Ireland. Ireland's lovely, but the Irish are not at all keen on being kind and patient to their animals, from what I've seen. One of the things I saw while there was George. George is my new project, and I hope also the horse who can take me where I need to go competitively speaking. Loads of talent but a completely fried mental state from being treated horrendously make him a perfect horse for me. Some days I get on and wonder if it's always going to be this hard, and if maybe I haven't made a mistake getting into such a hopeless project, but somewhere deep down I always know that if anything in life is worth doing, this is. Partly it's worth doing because George is 1200 pounds of raw talent, but mostly it's because he just makes me really happy. It makes me sad that I can't have them both here near Swarthmore, but at least I can have George here. He's like a giant teddy bear, and he thinks I'm just great, which is always nice after being at Swat for a while. Training horses is certainly a bit selfish and egotistical. I'm proud of George, and he makes me feel better about myself. On the other hand, my mother has always said "It ain't braggin' if you've done it," and I can certainly feel justified in being happy and proud that this horse, who a year ago would cower in the corner when anyone came into his stall, is now calm and friendly.