Wednesday, 29 October 2008

So I haven’t ranted on about my horse here lately. The reason for my silence: (1) I haven’t had time to rant on about anything (far too busy working, how dull) and (2) I haven’t had anything particularly positive to say about him.

In the nearly 3 years we’ve been together, Charlie Brown and I have always had a tumultuous relationship …with me definitely doing most of the tumbling. Both my pride and body are hurt on what feels like an all too regular basis. In fact, I’ve only recently regained about 90% movement in my back after a nasty fall and a month long stint with the osteopath.

I know what you’re all thinking, and believe me I’ve asked this question of myself on numerous occasions - “Why do I continue to put myself through it?” Ignoring for a minute the fact that I may be mentally retarded, it’s simply that I hate giving up on something that I really want. I’m also certain that, despite our difficulties, we’re meant to do great things together (in a Lone Ranger/Hi-Ho Silver kind of way). If only the little bugger would come round to my way of thinking!

Although the dangers are physical and very real, the battle between us is clearly a mental one. The state of our relationship is generally based on where my mojo is at the time – whether fully paid up or terribly in arrears. Ofcourse knowing this is one thing, but finding mojo when your horse has turned into a dangerous monster intent only on destroying your confidence and your ability to walk, can admittedly be a little harder.

It’s not part of my natural character to try and dominate others, believing people should do things of their own free will. This has been my most fundamental mistake I think; Charlie is not a person, he’s a young and bolshy horse who requires a definite and consistent leader. However, Charlie also tends to make the same fundamental mistake time and time again; letting his ego go to his head and underestimating me. This is the tipping point that generally sees my mojo return. When my fear turns into anger at having the piss well and truly taken. When my deep-rooted stubborness and determination of character turns the tables (quietly, patiently and often discretely) to get the last laugh.

After many tears of fear and frustration, and many weeks searching despairingly for my mojo (again), I feel it filling up in my veins again now. The war isn’t quite over (he wouldn’t be my Charlie if stopped trying altogether), but the tipping point has been recognised and there’s a definite change in the waters. Yesterday, during mid-buck-rear-mad-dangerous-horse-mentalness I quietly pulled out my new secret weapon… the small circle using his head as the pivot… and stayed on. He tried a few times and each time I was the winner. The score is evening up and he will eventually stop trying when it doesn’t evoke the response he's looking for.

On Saturday we have our first real riding lesson together, which I have no doubt will be the beginning of a whole new chapter in our relationship.

I never let bullies win.