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One Good Friend
This story was written for my grade 11 english class. It is loosely based on true events.
When I was 14 my best friend was my horse. Penny was the most beautiful horse I had ever laid eyes on. She wasn't a classic black Arabian with a flowing mane and long, lean legs. Penny was... different.
She was an Appaloosa, which meant she was blessed with a short, stringy mane. Her tail stuck straight out as she moved. Her short, bony figure made her look much older than she was and on her face was a crooked stripe that looked like an ostrich. Her chestnut coat was dabbled with copper coloured spots and sprinkled with white frost.
However, it wasn't her appearance I loved the most about her, it was her strong spirit. Penny was the only horse I couldn't ride. More than once I would return home from a trail ride without my mount. Other times we would come home together at top speed, me clinging for dear life from her neck. Trail riding wasn't Penny's thing. Then again, maybe Penny didn't have a thing.
A smart man once said "When in Rome do as Romans do. When in a horse corral do as horses do." Pat Parelli had dedicated his life to teaching people how to teach horses, naturally. Once you can think like a horse training should be made easy. Use rewards instead of punishment, proper riding instead of artificial aids. It seemed to me that everything Pat taught was the complete opposite of what Kelly, my riding coach and good friend, taught me.
Kelly had me put draw reins on Penny. I can't say I was happy about it. Draw reins connected the horse's head to their girth, and put both in the palm of your hands. The goal was to get Penny's head down, for once her head was down it should be difficult for her to run off with me.
But Penny, being strong-willed as she was, could snap her head up and ignore the horrible pain I could only imagine she would experience. She broke every pair of Kelly's draw reins. She did the same thing to her martingale, a simplified version of draw reins.
I could have taken these encounters in stride, after all, gadgets don't always work. Penny wasn't the first horse to break their draw reins. There was just something about it that didn't seem right. I decided I needed to do some research. If I couldn't find some way to tame Penny's spirit Kelly would make me use a harsher bit on her. I began to study Penny's behaviour with her pasture mates. I also read up on Pat Parelli's techniques. I soon learned that you didn't need fancy gadgets to train a horse and you could easily ride one without any bit, let alone a harsh one. All you needed was good riding techniques and a bit of savvy.
I saw immediate results, not just in the saddle, but on the ground as well. Penny was happier and no longer ran off with me. I found that my confidence grew as well. Kelly, however, wasn't happy. She didn't say it, but I knew she felt threatened. All my life I had been listening to Kelly's advice. She had taught me how to ride and had watched me grow up. Now, here I was, practically telling her that she was wrong in her ways of training.
After just a few months of training Penny on my own, the two of us were jumping courses without any bridle at all. I guess this had just made Kelly more angry. The past while had been really awkward between us and we hadn't spoken much. I had managed to train the untrainable in less time then it took Kelly to ruin my mare. Because of everything that had been happening, I shouldn't say that I was surprised about what happened next.
I rode Penny home that night, not knowing what to think. I tried to block out my previous conversation with Kelly, but there are somethings that you just can't forget. This was one of them. "I've had enough of this. You've betrayed me and my authority for the last time." Kelly had said. "If you aren't going to listen to what I have to say then you aren't allowed on my property."
You would think choosing between your best friend and one of the most important persons in your life would be hard, but it wasn't. Kelly didn't understand. Penny was more than an animal to me. We had developed a bond that just couldn't be broken. I just didn't feel right betraying that bond with Kelly's ways anymore.
I lost all contact with Kelly. I never got to say good-bye, or thank you. Worst of all, I never got to tell her how much I hated what she had done.
Two years went by, and on May 10th, 2005 Penny gave birth to a beautiful filly. I felt as if all my love for that mare had been brought out for all the world to see. There was no name special enough for Penny's daughter, I just couldn't think of one. Later that day I got a call from Les, Kelly's husband. Apparently Kelly had been thrown hard from her horse while jumping earlier that day. She didn't survive.
I didn't cry. I felt no need to. I just wanted to see my horses. Life seemed so unfair. One life taken while another born. Was it a coincidence? I didn't think so. I now knew what to name the foal, and I couldn't help but smile as I called her over.
"Kelly!"
It is now 76 years later. I am 92 years old and am lying on my death bed. I do not fear death. In a way, my life is already over. It ended the day Penny died, and again the day Kelly died. I made a living teaching people how to teach horses, naturally. Penny and Kelly helped me. Kelly had known nothing but my techniques, and she grew up to be my greatest horse because of it.
I close my eyes and listen to the soft beeping of the computer monitor at my bedside. I don't regret how things ended with Kelly for I know we will meet up again and work things out. Maybe, we already have.