Me in the Saddle - Indy

I don't ride any more. At this stage in my life, I am simply grateful to have my pasture ornament and the ability to go visit her as often as I wish. Riding would be nice, but I am not up to it any more.

Needless to say, when I found several photos of me in the saddle this weekend, I had some very mixed emotions and even became a bit teary. (I should clean out my closets more often!)

Today I am posting about this fuzzy boy, better known as Indy.

Indy was a registered half Arab and I owned him during the 1980s while we lived in Illinois. A friendly boy, he enjoyed people and never caused a problem while being ridden. (Although he did have the typical Arabian stamina - I never, ever wore him out on a ride!)

Indy in his summer coat - I always thought that he was beautiful. His gaits were comfortable and he was fun to ride.

Although he had stamina, he was still very gentle and not one to take off with a rider, so my children rode him, too. This is our daughter, Jessica going for a ride when she was about eight.

He loved having our kids around and never once bit, kicked, or pinned his ears at them. (Our oldest son, Kyle, is in the saddle while Craig walks with them.)

Indy was so sweet and gentle that one 4th of July I hauled him into town to our church where our ward was having a big family BBQ to celebrate the holiday.

I saddled Indy up and he gave rides to the kids in attendance that afternoon. (That's not me leading him, it's a friend, Lyn Tyler, who recently earned her silver US Dressage Federal medal. What an accomplishment! She's my age and a grandmother now, too, but unlike me, she's still in the saddle.)

Two short stories about Indy - one summer day I was riding out in the country when I rode by a place that had two teenagers out in the yard. The way they looked at me, I knew they were thinking of causing some trouble. Suddenly, there was a loud popping noise and then they threw two firecrackers at us! Indy startled and I leapt off him to grab his head and calm him before he could bolt. But when the second round of firecrackers blew, he pulled away from me and headed back to the barn at a gallop. I saw his hooves hit the asphalt of the road, slip, and his body flip into the air, with him landing hard on his side. I grabbed his reins and calmed him, then led him back to the barn. He was limping badly as he had damaged the ligaments in his right foreleg. I had to haul him to the vet and then Indy was on stall rest for a month. Luckily, he fully recovered. (I still get angry when I think of those foolish boys. Just what were they thinking?? They could have killed Indy or me, or caused an accident with a car on the road. I shudder when I think of what could have happened.)

Then, another time I was riding alone in the early morning. It was foggy, and I was riding in the farm's fields, and soon I lost my bearings. Suddenly, I came across a stretch of asphalt in the middle of the field - I had gone too far and had accidentally ridden onto the land belonging to the airport located a bout a half mile from the barn. (At that time, there were no security fences around Willard Airport and farmers grew their crops around the runways.) Still not sure just where I was, I turned Indy around and went back the way we had come. And a good thing I did so - about five minutes after that, I heard an approaching airplane. I never caught sight of it in all that fog, but I heard it land on the nearby runway that I had just stumbled upon.

In 1988 when I was pregnant with our youngest child, Cole, I decided to sell Indy. With six children, including a baby, I knew I simply would not have the time to care for him and ride him. He deserved much better. It was hard to sell him, but he went to a good home.

I still smile when I think of him, though. Such a sweet boy. I was lucky to have had him.