Taylor

Taylor was a sad story. He was a throwaway, to no fault of his own. A once relatively valuable animal diminished to dirt and loon status.

He was on his way to a prepurchase trial, with his nice fleecy halter, over-flowing hay bag, and carefully wrapped and bandaged legs. Protect the investment and keep him happily munching.

Those carefully bandanged leg wraps came undone and tangled around his legs and he FREAKED. Perhaps I remember this wrong; he was not from our barn. But I seem to remember he totalled the trailer as he flipped himself over backwards, gashing up his legs pretty badly. The worst damage, unbeknownst to his sellers, was in his mind. They quickly got him to a veterinary facility, where he spent a week or two recovering before they tried to take him home. They did not get far before Taylor went nuts in the trailer. My BOs barn was the closest, the horse's agent had a horse in boarding with us, and somehow it came to be that this injured nervous wreck of a horse was left with us. He was given some time to recover before being put into light work by one of the more experienced kids at the barn. After all, he was a NICE animal, and it's not often that a made hunter jumper horse is just dumped at your barn.

That one girl was the only one who could mostly control him on a course. I don't know what his mental state was like before his two trailer accidents, but what he had left afterwards was remnants. He was put on a weekly shot of Reserpine to help steady his temperament and it did work. Eventually he was just an average, slightly hot TB who could still be prone to bipolar episodes. About the time Benny was being used more in lessons, the girl who usually rode Taylor finally got a new horse and stopped working with him. The BO suggested I take a lunge lesson on Taylor with the instructor who was teaching at the time. Five minutes into the ride, I was in love. You have to remember, the only horses I'd ever ridden were pretty much, for lack of a more politically correct term, redneck bred and raised. I had never clapped a buttcheek on such a nice animal. He floated. He glided. He arched his neck and came onto the bit just so. He responded to the slightest impulse of leg or finger. Ohhh, yeah...

The BO gave me permission to ride him whenever I wanted, although she made me ride him in the round pen the first time I rode him alone, just to make sure I wasn't going to get killed.

I was smitten. He, however, was a very aloof personality, and never bonded with me. I understood that, and doted on him shamelessly. To this day, I have never felt or looked (in my opinion) so balanced or elegant on any horse. He was a joy to ride.

We had two rings and the round pen at that time; a small ring for the beginners, and a much larger ring for jumping. I only ever rode him in the large ring once or twice, because to be honest, I was still a little intimidated by the mood swings he still occasionally had, and there was a slight size discrepancy between he and I.

The only time I ever rode him in a flat lesson in the large ring with the group, the BO asked me if I could canter him in that ring. I said sure, I just don't know if he'll stop. And sure enough... but, it was the nicest time I've ever had being run away with, and he probably was barely running away with me at all; I just wasn't riding him enough to slow him down quickly. Sometimes I'm just under-reactive, and this was one of those times. I only ever jumped him once, and it was a trot over a super small crosspole, which ended in a large, ground eating canter on the other side of the jump, and a restless animal for the rest of the ride. But normally, he was like riding a dream. I always smiled on him.

He taught me where my center of balance is (now if I could just find it again), how to take a big, strong horse in hand, and the fine balance of the horse and the hand giving to achieve a happy horse working in a soft frame with a soft jaw. I conquered some nervousness and enjoyed myself with him every ride.

Even this one.

Eventually, I decided the time had come for me to get a project horse, so I would have something to ride consistantly, and hopefully sell down the road. My BO found me a super cute QH pony and I brought him home. While I was working on breaking and training that pony, my rides with Taylor tapered off and eventually stopped. He stayed out in the pasture with his buddies while the BO tried to find a solution for him. He wouldn't load on a trailer, that was the main thing that prevented him going to a home with an experienced enough rider who could do something with him. Eventually, said rider would want to take him to a show, and no amount of bribing, begging, pushing, asking, or leaving him with his food in the trailer and him outside of it would get him in it. He got in ONCE, was absolutely quiet...and refused to climb back in. The one time they had tried to take him to Auburn for him to be a horse in their program, they got less than half a mile down the road, with him "heavily sedated", before he lost his mind and the BO's husband had to hand walk this terrifyingly huge and jumpy horse down the highway back to the barn.

Finally, the BO got in contact with a TB rescue in Tennessee who agreed to take Taylor if we could get him up there. She hired a friend of our vet who was good with problem horses and swore once you get the horse moving, he will settle, to haul him for the three hour drive. The vet was there, ready and waiting. While they backed the trailer up to the barn aisle where we could hopefully load him with little resistance, I walked him around in the ring, waiting. And Mr. Aloof Taylor, who never wanted to be affectionate, chose that day to lower his head, push his head into my chest, and let out a long, deep sigh. Oh you are not telling me you love me NOW, you bugger. We fitted him with a bumper on his head, left those legs absolutely NAKED, and after five...count 'em, FIVE, seperate tranquilizers, managed to get him on the trailer and locked and loaded. Without wasting any time, the hauler pulled on out of there. They didn't have him out of the gate yet, and from the banging and screaming coming from inside the trailer, I thought Taylor was going to crawl out of the small windows on the side. You can bet I lost it.

However, the hauler called some hours later to report that, once they hit the highway, the horse did indeed quiet down and they made it to TN with one cut on Taylor's head that had to be stitched. I wish I knew what happened to him or where he is now. Chances are they turned him out and never caught him again, but hopefully someone took the time to really understand him and work with his neurosis, and he is well loved and someone else is taking the same joy in him that I did.