balance, he multiplied that effect.
Trotting poles helped him find his feet
and make even strides. We did circles
and serpentines over trot poles, too.
Pete liked to think, and the poles kept
his mind busy. He willingly navigated
every twist and turn.
Cantering proved to be another
challenge. Pete liked to gait as fast as
he could, throwing his body from side
to side, before breaking into a canter.
Sitting deep in the saddle, shoulders
back, I encouraged him to bring his
weight back onto his haunches and find
the three-beat canter. Once he “got it,”
the ride was unbelievable.
Pete would never be able to do
much more than our basic level of flatAutumn 2019work, due to some arthritis on the
right fore. Longeing him to the left, he
was sound. To the right, he needed a
15-minute warm-up before he could
move smoothly.
As the summer wore on, Pete put
on muscle. His back and neck became
strong; the conditioning work was
paying off. He moved gracefully and
easily picked up the correct
lead more often than not. His
arthritis was becoming much
less evident.
Then, after riding Pete
regularly for 10 months, I
arrived at the barn to hear
terrible news. Pete’s health
had deteriorated suddenly
and unexpectedly over the
course of just two days, and
he was diagnosed with liver
failure. The damage was
irreversible, and with no
chance of recovery, he had
to be put down.
My heart was broken.
Pete and I had come so far together
and now it was all lost.
And yet---horses teach us to live
in the moment, and I held onto
every moment of happiness Pete
had brought. The little memories
stick with me now. With Pete I
learned the feeling of cantering
without stirrups. I remember smiling
and laughing as I wandered the
pasture with Pete just behind. Our
companionship was so special.
Was the time I spent with Pete
worth it? Of course it was. For his
last 10 months, Pete and I shared
love and trust. And for that alone,
all of our work together was worth
the effort.I
’ll always remember the day I
met Pete. I had been riding for
about three years---my childhood
dream had come true, and muddy
boots and horsehair were finally my
new normal. To my delight I discovered
I was getting good at it, too.
Then came the day I was given
Pete, a big brown and white pinto, to
ride. “You’re going to try Pete,”
my instructor told me. “He’s
gorgeous and so fun!”
Pete did not disappoint. He
was as beautiful as promised.
Or, at least, I thought he could
become so. He was 19, probably
a Tennessee Walking Horse,
Saddlebred or something
similar---I never learned his
breeding. His coat was a little
dull and he needed conditioning.
How he’ll shine with a little bit
of polish, I thought. I had a thing
for the unpolished gems of the
animal world.
Our first ride wasn’t graceful.
I’d never ridden a gaited horse before,
and when I first got on his movement
felt like an uncoordinated shuffle. I
would need to learn to ride his gaits
and he needed to learn how to use his
powerful body with the elegance that
suited him.
But Pete was a sweet soul, and we
bonded quickly. Riding was playtime to
him, and he liked the game. He’d follow
me up from the bottom of the pasture
to the gate with no lead, because there
was no need for one. After our rides I
took him for long walks in hand, and our
bond deepened.
In the ring, we worked on balance
first. Pete pushed me to be a better
rider---if I was the slightest touch off120 EqUUS 498UNFORGETTABLE: Long walks in hand deepened the bond
between Robin Crowley and Pete.Labor of love
Pete and I accomplished
a lot in our short time
together, but my best
memories of the old
gelding have nothing to
do with riding.By Robin Crowley
EQ BACKPAGE