The shaggy little chestnut came off a beat-up stock trailer and entered the large marvelous barn of champions. His ribs could be seen through his winter coat and he walked with a slight limp due to a missing shoe. This was my off the track thoroughbred, Little Risky. I recently moved him to a large training facility out near Hillsboro in Virginia where I hoped he would gain weight and flesh out to become a marvelous sport horse. Right now he was nothing compared to the large Irish Sport horses he was turned out with, or the hanoverians down the aisle. He was a dreamhorse.com horse that was found at the bottom of the list.
To everyone, but me, he was just a backyard pony. To me, he was my whole world. I couldn't help but feel guilty for his weight, I didn't keep track of how much grain he was given by those who helped out at my barn. Because of my mistake he's much skinnier than he should be and due to the increase of his cribbing he most likely has stomach ulcers. Now on a new feed plan with weight gain and stomach soothing in mind, I can't help but hope that he'll become my big eventing horse.
Today, after having the farrier come put new shoes on him, I took him out for a spin in the indoor. He was excited and alert, but listened to my aids and came around nicely. Due to him being so young and uneducated, I didn't ask for much other than walk to trot transitions and a bit of canter work. Confirming that the limp was just from sensitivity, I felt confident that he'd be able to do a bit of jump work just to see what he had in him.
I pointed my trusty steed towards a small two foot jump, which I knew he'd be able to clear, and clicked my tongue. The trot quickened, despite my efforts to keep him steady, and he launched himself into the air. I could see the standards right next to my foot and braced myself for the big drop as he landed. That little horse could jump! With many "good boys!" I rounded him around to have him jump in the other direction. His trot quickened, slowed, quickened and then stopped altogether right before the jump. It was my fault, I had been leaning forward to stare at the jump. I still didn't want him thinking he could just stop at a jump, so I kicked him (sounds awful, I promise it wasn't hard) and was about to say "no" when suddenly he launched himself straight up in the air and cleared the jump.
At that point I couldn't help but pat him excitedly and tell him what a good boy he was. He seemed very proud of himself, and I could sense that he was gaining confidence. I turned him around, pointed him at the jump and made my position perfect. He cleared the jump with five feet to spare and we landed perfectly. After a couple more perfect jumps we called it a day. I couldn't have been more pleased with him. I, of course, had to spoil him with treats in the grooming area as I untacked.
I'm already putting money aside to pay for his christmas gifts and grab a couple lessons from Peter Foley, a big hunter (type of riding, not shooting animals) trainer in the area. I feel that in his new home him and I will be able to conquer the different levels of eventing. Also, I am confident that he'll be able to gain weight and get rid of those stomach ulcers. He's getting a proper diet now and I'm sure he'll recover perfectly!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Letter to Everyone
Dear Everyone,
There once was a time where I'd tell people that my childhood was the worst childhood on the planet. I got picked on, bullied, rocks thrown at me and even spent half of the year in a psychiatrists office playing with magnetic sculptures rather than talking. But really, as I look back on it, it's not that bad. It's not bad at all. There are other children out there who have no food, who have no families and have nothing but sky over their heads. Me? I had a house, I had food and I had people that loved me and cared for me. How dare I even begin to think that I had the worst childhood in the world.
There are people out there who have days worse than yours but yet they are still smiling. They hold their heads up high and they continue to walk down their path, awaiting the next day with nothing less than a smile. A smile, people. They could have just lost their job, or their house or something and yet they continue to smile. They view life at a different angle than many people, they see life with so many possibilities for positivity that they just continue to smile. They have themselves, they are alive and they are sure that the next day will be better and that's all they need to continue living with smiles.
I will admit that I fail to smile somedays when life brings me down. I don't expect everyone to smile everyday until they are laid to rest. The point that I'm trying to make is that one shouldn't allow a simple act to completely disrupt the rest of the day. Life is too short. I couldn't allow myself to live most of it with the illusion that most of my life sucked and that I had barely any happy memories to look back upon.
So although today is coming to a close, tomorrow holds many possibilities. Hold your head up high and wear a smile on your face, for you never know what may become of it. Doesn't hurt to smile.
Sincerely,
Mavz
There once was a time where I'd tell people that my childhood was the worst childhood on the planet. I got picked on, bullied, rocks thrown at me and even spent half of the year in a psychiatrists office playing with magnetic sculptures rather than talking. But really, as I look back on it, it's not that bad. It's not bad at all. There are other children out there who have no food, who have no families and have nothing but sky over their heads. Me? I had a house, I had food and I had people that loved me and cared for me. How dare I even begin to think that I had the worst childhood in the world.
There are people out there who have days worse than yours but yet they are still smiling. They hold their heads up high and they continue to walk down their path, awaiting the next day with nothing less than a smile. A smile, people. They could have just lost their job, or their house or something and yet they continue to smile. They view life at a different angle than many people, they see life with so many possibilities for positivity that they just continue to smile. They have themselves, they are alive and they are sure that the next day will be better and that's all they need to continue living with smiles.
I will admit that I fail to smile somedays when life brings me down. I don't expect everyone to smile everyday until they are laid to rest. The point that I'm trying to make is that one shouldn't allow a simple act to completely disrupt the rest of the day. Life is too short. I couldn't allow myself to live most of it with the illusion that most of my life sucked and that I had barely any happy memories to look back upon.
So although today is coming to a close, tomorrow holds many possibilities. Hold your head up high and wear a smile on your face, for you never know what may become of it. Doesn't hurt to smile.
Sincerely,
Mavz
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Last Letter from a WW2 Pilot (Fiction)
Dear Sebastian,
There is a secret inside of me that burns my very soul. My conscience is at war; the angel and the devil have brought out their weapons and are using my mind as a battlefield. Constantly I am assaulted by the possible outcomes of the actions each side argues, each even more tempting than the previous. For every action that I perform I feel guilt, there is no winning scenario. For in this instance, someone will get hurt and I pray that whoever it is will not be destroyed.
My heart has grown cold for it has been toyed with long enough. This silent war is over love, a cruel emotion brought down to us by the Gods. I remember her standing there, the blanket wrapped loosely around her as she stared at me. I knew what she wanted, but I could not comply. Oh how I wished to, to take her and claim her as mine. Yet, her hand was already taken by my closest friend. I could not walk this earth knowing that I had dishonored the trust of friendship, of brotherhood.
But yet, I knew that in my heart I had loved her since the day I laid eyes on her. Inside I am destroying myself; knowing that she loves me and I love her, but there is nothing that I may do. I may simply watch in pain and listen with torture to my friend describe his escapades with her. He would speak and I would wish with all my might that it was I that was speaking and not he.
There was a time when we would meet, her and I. We would simply converse like two people passing on the road, nothing too deep. But there came the time where we both confessed our love and then were left dumbfounded, unsure of where to go next. It was decided it would be best to forget our words and move on, living life the way we used to. Yet, that was near impossible. Daily my heart went to her, her beautiful face filling my mind. It didn't help when she began to send letters, letters professing her desires to see me.
Stupidly I went and found myself falling deeper into the cavernous pit known as love, for when I was with her I forgot all about my dear friend. We dangerously flirted in secret, but never once did we act on our words. Whenever I was with her it was easy to forget the world around me and concentrate only on her. But when I returned home, I found myself feeling so guilt ridden that I wished to hide myself from the world.
Dear Sebastian, I am sorry to say that it is you who's wife I fell in love with. It is also with this letter that I will say good bye, for I leave with the next train to become an RAF pilot at Biggin Hill. I could not bear to hurt you and I could not continue torturing myself. My good friend, I wish you can forgive me for what I have told you. It is in your hands now for what you wish to do now, but I could not live without telling you.
Creighton Derwood
There is a secret inside of me that burns my very soul. My conscience is at war; the angel and the devil have brought out their weapons and are using my mind as a battlefield. Constantly I am assaulted by the possible outcomes of the actions each side argues, each even more tempting than the previous. For every action that I perform I feel guilt, there is no winning scenario. For in this instance, someone will get hurt and I pray that whoever it is will not be destroyed.
My heart has grown cold for it has been toyed with long enough. This silent war is over love, a cruel emotion brought down to us by the Gods. I remember her standing there, the blanket wrapped loosely around her as she stared at me. I knew what she wanted, but I could not comply. Oh how I wished to, to take her and claim her as mine. Yet, her hand was already taken by my closest friend. I could not walk this earth knowing that I had dishonored the trust of friendship, of brotherhood.
But yet, I knew that in my heart I had loved her since the day I laid eyes on her. Inside I am destroying myself; knowing that she loves me and I love her, but there is nothing that I may do. I may simply watch in pain and listen with torture to my friend describe his escapades with her. He would speak and I would wish with all my might that it was I that was speaking and not he.
There was a time when we would meet, her and I. We would simply converse like two people passing on the road, nothing too deep. But there came the time where we both confessed our love and then were left dumbfounded, unsure of where to go next. It was decided it would be best to forget our words and move on, living life the way we used to. Yet, that was near impossible. Daily my heart went to her, her beautiful face filling my mind. It didn't help when she began to send letters, letters professing her desires to see me.
Stupidly I went and found myself falling deeper into the cavernous pit known as love, for when I was with her I forgot all about my dear friend. We dangerously flirted in secret, but never once did we act on our words. Whenever I was with her it was easy to forget the world around me and concentrate only on her. But when I returned home, I found myself feeling so guilt ridden that I wished to hide myself from the world.
Dear Sebastian, I am sorry to say that it is you who's wife I fell in love with. It is also with this letter that I will say good bye, for I leave with the next train to become an RAF pilot at Biggin Hill. I could not bear to hurt you and I could not continue torturing myself. My good friend, I wish you can forgive me for what I have told you. It is in your hands now for what you wish to do now, but I could not live without telling you.
Creighton Derwood
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Graveyard
Showering droplets of water cascaded downward making everything considerably wet. A light fog had settled amidst the stone slabs that marked the location of forgotten graves. At one point in time someone felt it necessary to get a rock, scratch a name into it and stick it on the burial site of one who had passed. It was really a silly idea, the notion that the person who was dead would care if someone would remember them. The notion that for eternity people would respect the location and walk around rather than through as to not disturb the slumber of the deceased. Fact of the matter was that after the first year, loved ones stopped visiting and the graves eventually were forgotten.
A small figure sat huddled in front of a fresh marble slab. Clutched in pale white hands was a bouquet of already wilting tulips. Slowly and carefully she removed the quite dead roses from before the grave and replaced them with the tulips.
"I told Dad your favorite flowers were tulips. He didn't listen," the girl whispered, "He said that he knew best. I didn't want to take them away. You know him. He gets really emotional about things and just can't handle it when something goes against him."
She paused and looked at the tulips sadly. They weren't fresh and were already half dead.
"He took up drinking again, so I haven't come to visit. I need to stay home, make sure he doesn't hurt himself and clean up when he's taken too much. I have to beg him for money sometimes...just for food. For some reason he thinks beer is breakfast, lunch and dinner."
She quivered and drew her arms tighter around herself.
"I couldn't afford to get any nice flowers. I begged the florist to sell me her worst dozen for a couple bucks. I wish I could have gotten you the fresh assortment like you deserve. It had all the colors that you liked."
She grew silent and simply sat. She stared at her hands. Already they had become wrinkled from the rain. Her mother wouldn't like her outside in this weather. It had been raining for a week and she simply couldn't keep herself any longer in that pitiful house. She would not forget her mother's grave, not even if it rained every day for the rest of her life.
"Wish you were here, mom," her voice shook and she closed her eyes, "Dad and I need you more than ever. It's not your fault, I know...but it sucks. I just wish I could see you again."
A small figure sat huddled in front of a fresh marble slab. Clutched in pale white hands was a bouquet of already wilting tulips. Slowly and carefully she removed the quite dead roses from before the grave and replaced them with the tulips.
"I told Dad your favorite flowers were tulips. He didn't listen," the girl whispered, "He said that he knew best. I didn't want to take them away. You know him. He gets really emotional about things and just can't handle it when something goes against him."
She paused and looked at the tulips sadly. They weren't fresh and were already half dead.
"He took up drinking again, so I haven't come to visit. I need to stay home, make sure he doesn't hurt himself and clean up when he's taken too much. I have to beg him for money sometimes...just for food. For some reason he thinks beer is breakfast, lunch and dinner."
She quivered and drew her arms tighter around herself.
"I couldn't afford to get any nice flowers. I begged the florist to sell me her worst dozen for a couple bucks. I wish I could have gotten you the fresh assortment like you deserve. It had all the colors that you liked."
She grew silent and simply sat. She stared at her hands. Already they had become wrinkled from the rain. Her mother wouldn't like her outside in this weather. It had been raining for a week and she simply couldn't keep herself any longer in that pitiful house. She would not forget her mother's grave, not even if it rained every day for the rest of her life.
"Wish you were here, mom," her voice shook and she closed her eyes, "Dad and I need you more than ever. It's not your fault, I know...but it sucks. I just wish I could see you again."
Little Risky
The person that takes up most of my heart isn't actually a person, although he'd like to think he was. His four legs and long face put him far away from Homosapien Sapien and more into Equus Caballus. He's a tall chestnut thoroughbred gelding by the name of Little Risky and he happens to be my best listener.
My friend Rachel called me to tell me that she had found a rather flashy chestnut online and suggested that we go and look at him. I, always being one to get excited about horses, quickly agreed and off we went to go see this horse. After about an hour's drive we finally arrive at a beautiful race horse barn. The lady brought us to his stall and there before me was Little Risky. He was short, skinny, had bad feet and cribbed constantly. Yet one look at his sweet face and I knew that he had the biggest heart in the world. After a test ride and a vet check, I began monthly payments on him. He came home March 28th, 2010 and it was perhaps one of the best days of my life.
He settled in relatively fast and we got along great. It was probably because I was feeding him twice a day, may have helped just a bit. He ended up being one of the most food motivated horses I've ever been around. You'd show him grain and he'd whinny and prick his ears forward and do just about anything to get to that bucket. At least he was cute, kept him alive when he started pulling apart fence boards from his cribbing. Oh well, all the best horses are cribbers after all.
He really was one of the best horses I've ever ridden. He didn't know much, but I began to teach him the basics of dressage and then onto jumping. Jumping, now that was his strong suit. He had been a steeplechaser before I bought him, which probably was why he jumped every jump so carefully. He would leave a four foot gap over every pole, which surprised the heck out of me the first couple times. It took us a while but soon he began to take jumps with more ease and we started jumping consistently at 3'3" and even went to our first eventing competition with jumps at that height.
We were eliminated, but that was alright. He did his best! I'm so proud of him and can't wait for the next show! Not a horse will replace my Little Risky, he's the best :)
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
White Flag
The empty eyes will forever stare,
searching for the one to take them.
Their bodies will be forever there,
waiting for someone to bury them.
In his mind he will see them,
haunting him to his end.
For he was told to shoot them,
and orders he could not bend.
He was told to shoot the men,
despite the white flag waving.
His finger twitched and killed them,
despite the white flag waving.
searching for the one to take them.
Their bodies will be forever there,
waiting for someone to bury them.
In his mind he will see them,
haunting him to his end.
For he was told to shoot them,
and orders he could not bend.
He was told to shoot the men,
despite the white flag waving.
His finger twitched and killed them,
despite the white flag waving.
Michael Jackson Compilation
And Nothin' Gonna Stop Me
Ain't No Stop and Go
Im' Speedin' on the Midway
I Gotta Really Burn This Road
And If I stop...
Then tell me, Just what
Will I do?
Is He Hot On My Tracks
Is He Getting Nearer
I Feel Some Heat Is On
My Back
You Have To Show Them That You're Really Not Scared
You're Playin' With Your Life, This Ain't No Truth Or Dare
They'll Kick You, Then They Beat You,
Then They'll Tell You It's Fair
So Beat It, But You Wanna Be Bad
Kicking me down
I got to get up
As jacked as it sounds
The whole system sucks
Every hot man is out takin' a chance
It's not about love and romance
And now you do regret it
Ain't No Stop and Go
Im' Speedin' on the Midway
I Gotta Really Burn This Road
And If I stop...
Then tell me, Just what
Will I do?
Is He Hot On My Tracks
Is He Getting Nearer
I Feel Some Heat Is On
My Back
You Have To Show Them That You're Really Not Scared
You're Playin' With Your Life, This Ain't No Truth Or Dare
They'll Kick You, Then They Beat You,
Then They'll Tell You It's Fair
So Beat It, But You Wanna Be Bad
Kicking me down
I got to get up
As jacked as it sounds
The whole system sucks
Every hot man is out takin' a chance
It's not about love and romance
And now you do regret it
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