Changes in life are inevitable, and we have to make decisions accordingly. But seeing my old neighbor’s horse trailer for sale made me realize that wrapping up a lifetime of pursuing our passions can be bittersweet.
I drove by my neighbor’s driveway last week and saw he’s got his horse trailer parked out front, with a sign that says “For Sale.”
This isn’t usually an emotional thing. People buy and sell trailers all the time. But seeing that particular rusted, pull-type 1980-something stock trailer with that sign out by his entrance made me feel a bit sad.
This particular neighbor is in his early eighties, and he loves to ride. He’s had horses and loved horses for a big part of his lifetime and was on the lookout for his next caballo a couple of years ago. Between the sticker shock of today’s market and his wife not totally being on board, it didn’t seem possible. We caught wind of this and worked out a deal with him on an old gelding I had. I told him to take him, enjoy him and keep him. Feed him until he wasn’t riding anymore, and I’d happily take him back. Well, this neighbor had some small health issues that kept him from much saddle time, and eventually, that horse came back. He brought me back my bridle too, but told me he was going to keep his saddle and pull-type around, “just in case.” But now I see that trailer parked out there for sale, and well, I guess he’s wrapping it up.
We all hit that spot, eighty years old or not. We question the sense behind what we’re doing and if it’s something we ought to keep on our back burner. Sometimes it’s horses, sometimes cattle, sometimes projects, hobbies, side jobs or whatever. Sometimes we need to trim the fat. Sometimes we need to make changes, and sometimes life just tells us that it’s time to go in a different direction.
But, just to counter those thoughts, I think it’s important that we don’t make these choices too hastily, either. In the bleak of winter, when the ground is bare, and the north wind blows, and my trees all look like sticks, it’s easy for me to feel a little discouraged. I want to make it better. I want to cut down the trees that aren’t alive anymore and make room for new grasses and saplings to grow. However, winter is not the time to make those calls. How can we make the best choices when we haven’t weathered one season? Just because they look dead doesn’t mean that they are. We need to give things a chance to regrow, regenerate and prove that they’re still alive and well before we cut ties. I am one to sidepass any hoarder tendencies, but the “just in case” on the life of our passions is certainly worth consideration.
The same can be said for our horses. The late bloomers. The ones who are gawky, pot-bellied and fuzz-covered their yearling year might grow into stunners and irreplaceable winners later on in life. Yes, sometimes we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do and part ways, but logic and sense often should be at the forefront of these choices.
We’ve all got our loves and some sort of call in life on what to pursue. When that shifts, changes or needs attention, we need to listen. But seeing that trailer parked out front of my neighbor’s entrance reminded me that these choices don’t need to be made lightly.
And I do hope dearly that his old saddle is still sitting in his barn, “just in case.”
This is a timely and compelling article, Kelli Neubert reminds us how and why we make choices in our life with horses, and the need to reflect on those decisions. With (dare I say) multiple decades in the horse industry, I have had the opportunity to live, work and compete in diverse venues, all across the country. Attachment to horses runs deep, and as the hand of time moves on, we should cherish every moment, ‘just in case’. Thank you.
Reading this really hit home. Me and my horses – 73, 26 & 27 years old – are showing a few signs this year. Before this, nobody could believe how old we were… Now, I’ve got crepey skin, arthritic hands; Azul is looking skinny & has gray at her temples & a gray hair in her black tail; and Will, who had rodeo’d, has a high-priced farrier and weird rubber shoes with play dough squirted in them & orders not to make sharp turns & always try and ride in a straight line with big wide turns! Oh, yeah, and NO Hills!
We built a garage just for my truck (bought specially for the horse trailer) and trailer. Built a barn for my ponies (American Quarter Horses), put in miles of fencing for paddocks, runouts, pasture, round pen, etc., and I can’t imagine “down-sizing”. Better start really enjoying the time and fun we have left… But for right now, NOTHING’S FOR SALE!!