When I was 10 years old my dad bought me a little black horse for Christmas. My dad knew of my fanatical love of horses. His friend had bought his son a horse a few months earlier. Maybe it was a keeping up with the Jones thing for my dad. For me it was the beginning of a long journey of adventure and learning.

Bobby was my horse until I was 19 years old. We lived in town so Bobby lived at the farm where we bought him. He was boarded at Carl Cowell’s place on Stafford Road for $35 a month. I was reminded of this often when I wasn’t a good little girl. Thankfully, my parents never made me sell him as they so often threatened me.

Bobby was my partner in many adventures. I didn’t have formal riding lessons. Nor did I own a saddle. Bobby was just short enough that I could jump up and get on him bareback. We went swimming in the pond, jumped logs and followed deer trails. We did a lot of road riding visiting my friends. My parents didn’t know about that. It was the wild child and her little black horse. I got a little black Dachshund/Pekinese mix dog when I was 16. She would jump up and I’d snatch her up on to Bobby’s withers and away we’d go.

I sold Bobby to a little girl when I got pregnant and so ended my wild child cowgirl days. I was horseless for about sixteen years. Yet I hoped for the day to come that I would realize my little girl dream and someday own an Appaloosa.

As my children got older and I got a job, I was able to purchase a horse. Eventually, I found a new partner, my Appaloosa, Mack. That first year, we rode in the Horse Fair Kick-off ride. We were riding past a building downtown with mirror like windows. I looked over and saw our reflection. There I was riding the Appaloosa I had always dreamed of. I thought, “A little girl’s dream come true.” I was 37 years old. Mack and I have had many adventures since that day trail riding in Brown County, Midwest, Illinois and Tennessee.
As the years past, so did the trail riding phase. Friendships with fellow trail riders faded and so did my relationship with my horse. I visited the RHPC booth at the Hoosier Horse Fair and picked up a directory. In it I read something like, “Do you stand at your kitchen window watching your horse standing in the pasture and think of riding days gone by? Then come join us.”

So it is with hope of a renewed partnership with my horse that I have joined Red Hats and Purple Chaps.