On target

A rescued horse and a troubled girl find their way together as they tackle the challenges of a new sport.

From the beginning, I knew Montana was meant for something wondrous. The day I met her, a dear friend who is also a horse trainer asked if I was looking to buy a horse. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I wandered out to the meadow to see her. As I reached the tall grass line where the wildflowers grew, I stopped and stared straight into a pair of beautiful brown eyes.

I wasn’t in a good place at the time. Stress, schoolwork and arguments between my parents had piled up. The gelding I used to ride had succumbed to old age. Depression overwhelmed me, and I felt burned-out and broken.

Montana, however, touched something in me I thought was lost. I saw past her dirty dun coat, her matted mane and tail, her long, cracked hooves, her sunken flanks and emaciated frame. Most of her past was a mystery, probably for the best. Yet when I looked at Montana, I saw pieces of myself behind those eyes. She was broken, too.

I knew she was meant to end up with me. It was going to be my job to mend her and prove that although one person could do so much wrong, another could make it right again.

At first, I mainly just hung out with Montana on the ground. I was there every day, grooming her and staying late at the barn to exchange nuzzles and whinnies … reading a book while she dozed beside me … sitting out on the pasture gate watching her graze. Each small kindness, and each relaxed moment, was another step forward in our relationship.

Riding proved more of a challenge. First she protested having a saddle on her back; later I had to keep a grip on the saddle horn to prevent her from bucking me off. But in less than a year, I was riding Montana freely down trails and wide-open country roads with only a hackamore. We went from boarding at a big barn to a small, private farm to my own backyard. With each obstacle we conquered I learned many things, but the underlying theme was always this: This horse and I were in it together, until the end. We were a herd of two. We were pals.