About Me
I am 17 and I have been riding for 6 years or so. My family currently has four horses, although the only one that is technically "mine" is my 8-year-old Haflinger gelding, Norm. His registered name is Norman's Nathan, although if I am not showing in a breed show I show him under the name Normandy. I have only had him since February, after my first Haflinger, my awesome Navy, tragically broke his leg while turned out.
Navy was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of horse. He was turning 9, 14.2 hands, and had a gorgeous body. He was my best friend, my trusted partner, and we did everything together. People used to joke that we were like an old married couple: we had a special way of communicating that no one else understood, we often bickered and argued and then made up when no one was watching, we could read each others minds, often found each other's actions incredibly annyoing but also very endearing, and we would have done anything for each other. Navy was a complete goof, very obnoxious, overly agressive, and a great pain in the neck to those who didn't know him (and technically also to those who did, but we loved him too much to care!) He was amazingly talented, jumped out of his four-foot pasture almost daily, and wowed everyone he met with his dressage capabilites. Of course, those same people were also to scared to come near us because of his tendency to be stupid and bolt or buck or charge fences (other people had problems with refusals, I had problems trying to get my horse to STOP jumping the fences he was not supposed to be!) He would lock on to a fence and it didn't matter how high it was, or how difficult, he was GOING to do it, and you had just better hang on tight. For this reason, along with the fact that he could be named a complete psychopath, only my trainer and I rode him. All the other girls regularly rode each others horses, but although I was allowed to ride theirs, I could never convince anyone to ride mine. My best friend finnally rode Navy a few weeks before he died and he was a complete gentleman, the stinker.
The day before he died we were at a dressage show at Chagrin Valley Farms and as we entered the ring to warm up for our first test he caught sight of the other horse leaving, wheeled in front of the judge, and bolted towards the exit. I have never gone so fast as when that horse took off with you. People started yelling and panicking, sure I was going to get thrown into the wall and die or something, but all the girls from my barn just calmly moved out of our way and assured the yelling spectators that it was, indeed, ok, that he did this regularly and I had had much practice. We ran around the large warm up ring for some time, then calmly headed back to do our test. When it was all over and I looked at my score, the judge had written "impressive. good job staying on him and making him do the test. very disobedient" and I just could not stop laughing. Navy was such a charmer, and he pranced and preened whenever people looked our way. I am sure we were not very good ambassadors for the Haflinger breed, however, as people often used to comment, "oh look out, its a Haflinger."
When he died I thought my life was over. I missed a lot of school, my grades dropped, I lost a lot of weight, and I saw no reason to leave my room. Even now, sometimes I miss him so much I cant breathe. I have become very good at stuffing everything away so that I can cope and not break down every time someone says his name. He was one-of-a-kind, and he spoiled me for a "normal" horse forever. When I couldnt stand not having a horse any longer I went out and specifically looked for a talented, difficult Haflinger. I actually turned down a stellar athlete who was a very calm, competent mount, in favor of an 8-year-old horse who had been broke for less than two months. When I got Norm, who happens to be Navy's cousin, he had had little training and was scared of EVERYTHING. He had wonderful manners and his ground work was awesome, but his confidence was non-existent. You couldnt touch him anywhere on his right side, he jumped and hid in the corner when you walked down the aisle, and he was incredibly claustrophobic.
After 4 months however, he is like a different horse. He is calm, oh-so sensible, and very affectionate. Quite a change from my world-dominating Navy. But he is sweet and kind, and tries hard to do anything you ask of him. Working with him has really enlightened me. I now know that I want to train young, promising, somewhat psycho Haflingers. They are the coolest horses and their personalities are through the roof. They have literally spoiled me for a "normal" horse. I can not imagine not having a golden boy out in the barn, nor can I imagine a life without their insane antics and quirky personalities. Life is so much more interesting when you never know what your horse is going to come up with next.
English
Eventing
Dressage
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