As riders, there are moments when things really become clear, where suddenly things click in that magical moment, or it becomes plain-as-day that things will never be right.
For Prophet and I, the road has been a bit rocky - Grand Canyon-kind-of-rocky. I always had faith that he would someday be special, but that faith has been tested and tested and tested. He draws a crowd while bolting and rearing in order to avoid going in his first water jump, but when the ground person walked in himself, suddenly we were jumping in the training level drop and I loved him. Some of my mentors said he wasn't worth my time, but then, as I sobbed in his stall, he nuzzled and comforted me in that way that no human ever could.
So I kept trying with him....
His layed-back attitude has made me think that his calling may in other fields then this crazy world of eventing, but then he would gallop across a finish line and I'd feel higher than a kite, and I knew I couldn't give up on him.
He's opinionated, stubborn, a bully and I love every minute I'm around him and every naughty look he gives me, if not meerily because he lays his head in my lap when he doesn't feel well and hides behind me when he's scared. He wears his heart on his sleave and holds no emotion back... which is why I always kind of wanted to think that he had more in there than what he's ever shown me... that his too-cool attitude was all just a big cover-up.
There have been flashes of brilliance and he's been such a different horse since coming back into work after his vacation, but there's always those thoughts of doubt that make me think that maybe flashes are all that is there... Yes, he's been great at the levels that I've asked of him, which most people would be satisfied with, but I want more for not just him, but us.
And then yesterday, however subtle - unnoticable really - it may have been, I felt a magic in that pony that I've never really felt.
All our homework led us to where we were yesterday, but it was our first lesson with Holly Hepp which means I'm tight, which means crabby pony. The rain had forced a couple of days off, which means crabby pony. Holly didn't do much warm-up, which means crabby pony. We were on WET footing, which means crabby pony. Yet Holly said "get him here, here, here and his mind here" and suddenly -- we were there.
We jumped a course of size (for us anyway) and by the last fence, I was sure the jumps could have been 6" higher, and we would have been fine. I could shorten to the fence, lengthen to the fence, sit and do nothing to the fence, and he still pinged off the ground, straight in the air and landed looking....
But it wasn't how nice the course was or that we stayed in a rhythm or that his jump TOOK me there... it was something else. It was that he was still Prophet as he swaggered back to the trailer - the same P-man that I remember Sinead saying "does he even go IN the bridle?" about. He's my P-man that chases Ted away from the gate, hates being kissed too much, and drives John crazy!
This Prophet has something that I find special and amazing, and if he keeps taking my breath away, then he will ALWAYS be my man.
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