Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Scout- A Mastermind of Games


        As childhoods go, mine wasn’t what I would call always idyllic. But the brightest spot in my life at that time were my grandparents. I was very fortunate to live literally only a stone’s throw from them. So I would spend many hours at their modest home.
Living in the country afforded me opportunities to commune with nature and learn to love all things farm-like; whether that be animal, vegetable or mineral. I grew up with assorted varieties of chickens, turkey, guinea fowl and even a few neighboring peacocks. There was always a plethora of dogs and cats. Any number of interesting wildlife creatures could be encountered from opossums, fox, squirrel, skunks and the other usual suspects. We had cows, goats, and to our greatest joy, a Shetland pony named Scout aka Skalt. As with all my subsequent pets, Scout had a little story of how he came to be a part of our lives.
My dear grandmother would often lay a sheet over her unfolded laundry on the bed to keep it clean until she got time to fold it. With four rambunctious grandchildren ranging from ages five to eleven crawling over everything, it would seem a necessary chore. As the youngest at the time, I was probably the peskiest. I had an older sister and two older brothers.
I was about five years old and I can remember coming into my grandparent’s house one morning as was usual looking for something sweet to eat. Grandmother was cleaning up in the kitchen and I was left to my own devices of “rambling”. I can remember going into the back bedroom and seeing the sheet covering what I thought was laundry on the bed. But this time the sheet was lumpier than usual. It looked and felt like it was covering shoes. Knowing how grandmother never allowed shoes on her bed, naturally I was fascinated and had to investigate even more.
Slowly I lifted the sheet and saw some weird leather and wood protrusion. I didn’t understand. So I lifted the rest of the sheet and saw what I would later come to know as a saddle. Mind you, at the age of five I had never seen a saddle before. Even to this day I can remember that intoxicating earthy aroma of horse and leather.
Immediately I ran into the kitchen to demand answers. Grandmother was somewhat peeved at me because the saddle was supposed to be a surprise for later. Still not grasping the implications of what a saddle meant, I was excited, but didn’t really know why. Grandmother just smiled and explained. I listened mesmerized as my grandmother told of how our sweet Granddad had secretly bought a pony for us four grandchildren. However I wasn’t supposed to know yet and couldn’t tell the others.
Now in the mind of a five year old (and plenty of fifty years olds as well I suspect), this was a secret of huge proportions. A secret much, much too juicy to keep quiet about. So Grandmother decided to keep me close until Granddad got home so I wouldn’t have the opportunity to spill the beans and ruin the surprise for the others.
When Granddad did finally get home after what seemed like an eternity, they called us all together. He uncovered the saddle for the others to see and their faces were stunned shock at first and then astonished joy. I looked like the Cheshire Cat straight out of Alice in Wonderland because for the first time I actually knew something before my older siblings.
Then he took us up to the barn on the hill for us to see our new addition to menagerie already there. In a small stall stood the most beautiful creature imaginable. A magical mythical unicorn couldn’t have elicited more love from me than that magnificent pony that stood before us. Black and white and small in stature, he looked at me (because at that moment in my mind, it was just the two of us) instantly bonding and foreseeing a future filled with exciting adventures together. I am sure that my siblings had their own similar imaginations and memories as well. Little did I know that while the future was full of adventures together, most were centered on how the heck Scout was going to get us off his back the fastest way possible…
The next months on old Scout were probably the most miserable that poor pony would ever experience in his life. All he wanted to do was live his life in peace nibbling on grass and some occasional hay flake. All we ever wanted to do was ride, ride, ride. Often all four of us would climb on his back at once. It was no wonder that every tree, bush, low limb, or tree would be his best friend; it was a certainty that we weren’t. If nothing could be found to “rub” us off, then ole Scout would just lie down and proceed to roll over us if we weren’t fast enough to move out of the way.
I harbor no ill will or hard feelings toward this old friend. He had to be miserable and probably hurting most of the time. But he gave us so much joy even when we were in harm’s way and just didn’t know it. The memories of running through the fields trying to catch him as he ran from us; the fun of playing “dodge the hoofs” as he tried to kick us into submission. His favorites had to be “roll the kids” or “bite the arm” because he was a master both. Oh the joys we had. The oblivious danger….
Eventually Grandmother lost patience and Granddad had to give him away. By then we were older and had become savvier at maneuvering old Scout. But I still find it highly amusing that the final straw wasn’t that Scout had nearly killed every one of her grandchildren, but rather it was the fact that while attempting to dismount one of us, he killed her favorite flowering shrub. I still chuckle over that one to this day. The image of her taking a switch and flogging that impervious and impertinent pony with a fury that was rarely seen in my grandmother was priceless and not one that I would have ever wanted to experience for myself.  
Another memory that will always stay with me is of when Scout decided to follow the goat up the loading shoot of the barn and upward to the roof of the barn. I won't ever forget waking up to the sight of one spotted Shetland pony standing beside a white goat on top of the barn. He stayed there for 2 days before he figured out how to get down...
While we probably suffered equally with Scout the indignities of owning a equestrian pal without the proper knowledge of just what that entailed, it set the stage for a future that I hope will always include hoofed compadres.
The lessons learned from that ill fated adventure were brought full circle when as an adult I was able to buy our first horse for my then thirteen year old “horse crazy” daughter. Perhaps subconsciously I had fostered that love with my own fond memories of Scout. I had pestered my husband for years that I wanted a horse, but he just scoffed at the absurdity of it. Then later when it became the “popular” thing to own among his friends, he reconsidered. Whatever the reason, I was thrilled and nervous when it all came together.
That same dear Grandmother had died and left me her land. No longer the farm I had remembered as a child, it was more scrub land and privet fields with boggy swamps. Neglect and misuse by the tenants renting and using the land had taken its toll. My husband and I spent many hours and dollars toiling away clearing the fields and building a small barn structure using recycled materials. A younger brother helped me with the fencing of property lines. Not exactly the tautest or straightest fences, but they sufficed. It was hard and laborious work during some truly brutal weather. I truly loved every single minute of it.
I felt that I was building more than a farm. I was building character and a future hopefully filled with happy family moments. Scout was long gone by then but the memories of our time together spurred the longing of a simpler time that I wanted my daughter to have the opportunity to experience.
Meantime my daughter was kept in the dark and we were able to surprise her on her thirteenth birthday with a thirteen year old horse named Doc. She had ridden this horse numerous times at a friend’s farm. He was the perfect first horse and when we were able to buy him it was a blessing. Not cheap but well worth the investment. A beautiful gentle roan quarter horse with just enough spirit to keep things exciting but not so much that he channeled Scouts dangerousness. 
As her sister rode him down from the top of the hill, she was at first puzzled. She couldn’t figure out why her sister was riding a horse at first and then she couldn’t figure out why she was riding Doc. When we started singing “Happy Birthday” she was stunned. Tears rolled down her eyes in astonishment and I knew that we had pulled off the best surprise of her life.
Doc would give us several good years before he faltered in the field after a bout with cancer. I can’t remember crying so much over the loss of a pet as I did then. But in retrospect I can look back now without falling apart and be so thankful for the joy and happiness he brought as well as the peace of mind that we had chosen the right “first” horse.
His legacy would live on when we bought or acquired new horses along the way. I know that my Granddad had the best of intentions when he bought us old Scout. However, best intentions can have tragic results. Luckily it didn’t for us but the dangers that we were placed in on a daily basis gives me shivers today. Knowing the real and certain dangers that a horse can present to unskilled or even to skilled riders should never be ignored. This can’t be emphasized enough. Horses and ponies are a lot of fun but can be very dangerous creatures if not taken seriously.
Any one even thinking of getting or riding a horse or pony should first read everything they can get their hands on before considering taking on such an venture. Visit a local stable or farm and observe the interaction first at a distance and then with the supervision of an experienced owner. Never walk behind a horse without due care. And never let young children be around a horse without supervision.
Horses can bring such joy to us and give us unconditional love. But they can also bring some pretty nasty lessons too…..
While there are hundreds of really good books out there here is a short list to get you started: Getting Your First Horse by Judith Dutson; or The Everything Horse Book by Cheryl Kimball
        In future blogs I plan to list other books that we found useful and informational. I also plan include the stories of our other horses and our “rescue” pets that we have adopted. Each one has their own unique story to tell and lessons learned. Please visit often and share the life lessons and adventures with me.

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