DREAM HORSE

DREAM HORSE

More specifically, my dream horse. The horse I have dreamed about for, oh, at least thirty years or so. The refined version of childhood legend and writer’s fantasy…in flesh and hide…the dapple grey equine companion, Lady Eloise’s Garth.

Except I’m not Eloise, I lack the requisite equestrian credentials to even consider purchasing a true courser. A lively palfrey with an indulgent heart is in keeping with my skill and recreational goals.

And why oh why couldn’t I covet the most basic and noble of equine representatives, the stalwart, hard working, every-man horse, the PBH. They are everywhere in numbers uncounted, the best darned horses anybody ever had. These PBH’s do it all, take home the prizes and play with the kids, performance or pleasure they top the charts. Man’O’War and Seabiscuit, Ginger from Black Beauty. In fact it is an exercise in arrogance that I even label them PBH’s. Truly there is nothing mundane or common about them, for no living, sentient being should ever be categorized, nay discriminated against for the color of their hide. Yet here I am doing it. Holding out for the Dream Horse in living dapple grey Technicolor (ha, that isn’t even color, it is black and white mixed together like Dorothy in Kansas).

There are many ways to classify the PBH. Glorious, colorful descriptions all meant to better distinguish one PBH from other PBHs. Chestnut, sorrel, liver. Now a bay, there is an exotic step up, and a bay with black knees and white feet is beyond PBH. Even dun, dunskin or liver chestnut make for decorative adjectives, for what in the end is indeed a plain brown horse.

I should write a story about a PBH, a heroic, romantic PBH to compete with Hidalgo, and the Black Stallion. A PBH to replace Trigger and Silver in the publics’ conscience. The original Flicka was a PBH, only to be replaced with a black horse the likes of TV’s Fury. Did Hoss ride a PHB in the antiquated Bonanza? I rest my case.

Our first horses came as a pair: black Morgan gelding and flea bitten Arab mare, take it or leave it. We took it! We still have the Morgan. My second horse happened to black, but Dobby chose me as well. With a premature semi retirement for Dobby looming, I created a very specific list for my next, and perhaps last horse (if health and time are very good to us). Grey is on that list, but is not the first criteria.

Of course, two of my favorite R-Wild Horse Ranch horses are indeed PBHs and I would LOVE to own either of those grand equines. Actually, Quincy, in his twenties is older than I want, although still going strong. Scooter (I called him Wishy) is a magnificent chestnut mustang gelding with the look and bearing of his conquistador ancestors. His body and feet may hint at draft, but his head and neck say Spanish. The quadro-lube glide of his gaits murmur Cadillac.

I will continue searching for another trail buddy, arena colleague and round pen partner. A horse I can bond with, an equine looking for a herd leader. Soundness heads the list, with a big, eager walk on the trail. Temperament and work ethic a tandem second place; a horse that wants to get it right, and wants to be with me. We ride some pretty extreme trails and like to picnic with our horses. We play horse soccer and I want to do some jumping—not hunter/jumper, eventing stuff—barrels, low obstacles, fallen logs. I love grooming my horse and ‘spa’ time is a high priority. I don’t compete, don’t need a pedigree or high grade performance horse. Arab, Morgan, Quarter, Mustang, gaited or not, just a plain, good horse, is all I ask, who just happens to be dapple gray.

That said, may I never become so colorblind that I overlook my equine soul mate, if he happens to wear a plain brown wrapper.