Like most of the RHPC ladies, I cannot remember the time before I loved horses. As a little girl I dreamed of having my own pony. Instead I got a houseful of brothers and a nice hunting dog. I begged rides on the various equine specimens my girl fiends had, mostly mean little ponies that did not get ridden much. I never missed an episode of Flicka, Fury or Sky King even if it meant trading all my good stuff to one brother or the other in order to see my TV show. I drew pictures and read books and played with miniature plastic horses and pretended that one day I would have a horse of my own. The closest I got was in the summertime when we lived down the road from a tourist stable where you could trail ride -- nose to tail -- for 25 cents during the week when business was slow. I would forgo ice cream for the money to ride. What a relief, that I no longer have to do that.

By my teenage years, life had changed rapidly, my father, who was my hero, died and the family disintegrated. I left for college and kept at it for 10 year s. Marriage, work, mortgage, school expenses and then a baby. A baby who announced at 2 that she was going to be a "peterinarian". She never played with dolls, just pound puppies and my little ponies. We had 2 Great Danes that served as her first driving "horses". They were halter trained to pull a sled or wagon. From there, it was riding lessons and horse camps. While watching my child ride, yet another misbehaved "lesson" horse with a group of nervous mothers, I bravely proposed "we should do this too." and we did! Every Wednesday for a year or so... great fun, and if felt like almost enough.

My daughter continued to become a skilled rider and a gifted horse handler. Determined to give her what I never had, we purchased a magnificent and powerful American saddle bred gelding as a surprise for her 15th birthday. The horse's barn name was Adonis. He proved to be the most invaluable support in creating adolescence free from drugs, alcohol, malls and boys of questionable character. Adonis demanded attention, care, respect and understanding. I credit him for shaping much of my daughter’s strength and determination as well as compassion in her life and her profession as an equine veterinarian. I realized I needed that in my life as well. I mentioned that some day... mayb… if the right horse came along…

Within days, my husband, who appears to only understand things with steering wheels and carburetors, announced HE had found a horse for me. My daughter and i both rolled our eyes and said sure we would look at "this cute little horse" that he had been feeding apples to on a piece of ground that was soon to be developed. The horse in question was to be sold by the pound to, what used to be known as the "killers" for human consumption. We could only imagine what state she might be in or what problems we were looking at. I was 40 years old and about to own my first horse. She was fat, wormy and wonderful. We bought her for $482.00. We dewormed her, put her on the low fat diet and low impact aerobics, and she got better everyday of her life after that. She went from being "Fat Annie" to becoming "Annie the Wonder Mare."

Over the years, she taught many people horse confidence when they lost their way. She would babysit the inexperienced child. She challenged me to be a better person with each ride. She was often the source of my sanity after a long day at the office. I began riding regularly with the same group of moms who took Wednesday morning lessons. One by one, we all got our own horses and bonded around our love of those relationships. It was then that I realized there really are only 2 kinds of people in the world....those that love horses and the rest. My gal friends and I became the buffalo girls. We took riding trips to the Green Mountains of Vermont, the redwoods of California and the Bitterroot Mountains of Wyoming. Our lives became busy with college students, marriages, divorces aging parents and life.

The buffalo girls no longer exist except in the stories we tell about the crazy times we all shared. My family moved to the country and brought the aging Adonis and Annie to the pasture outside our bedroom window. Easy rides around the fields and a relaxed retirement for the two of them. Within few months of each other they both passed. Annie, my best friend, confidante, therapist and companion of 16 years told me it was time to move on the week before Christmas last year.

Sometime in January, I read an article about the RHPC and decided to join just for the chance to be around the kind of women who love horses. That would be the good kind… I did not feel ready for another horse but I had all kinds of horse people looking for one for me anyway. My conditions were a middle age, dead broke gelding. In April, I was introduced to a 6 year old mare. Sometimes what we think we want is not in anyway the thing that we really need. I guess I must have really needed her. Anyway, we are well suited to one another.(except she is in love with my husband) and now I look forward to the next faze of my life with horses and the women who love them. It is my hope that the RHPC will give both me and my new best girlfriend the chance to remember the past, create a new future and find comfort and joy once again in the dream world that only those of our kind understand.