How We Met

In my second installment I am going to continue with the introductions and tell you how Hwin and I met. Some may know this story, but I enjoy telling it.

I had been taking lessons at a local hunter/jumper barn for about six months. It had been on my mind for a little while to lease a horse. Ultimately, I wanted to buy my own, but felt that I should ease into horse ownership, as I had never done it before.

I was headed to the barn in a good mood for my lesson and was intending to talk to my trainer about a lease. I had gotten a raise at work that day and felt the time was right. When I got to the barn, my trainer was late for my lesson, so I had some time to hang around. I noticed a beautiful black horse getting a bath in the wash stall. My first thought was one of jealousy. I thoroughly envied whoever owned this horse. I really thought she was the most gorgeous horse that I had ever seen. I patted her, said hi, and continued to wait for my trainer.

When Patty got there, we discussed the possibility of a lease and what it entailed. Then she looked at me and said, “Would you like to buy one?” I was in disbelief when she led me over to that black horse’s stall and said, “Because this one is for sale.” I made up some excuses as to why I couldn’t buy a horse yet and left it at that.

A couple of days later, I saw her add in the paper. When I saw the word “morgan”, I wanted her even more. I called Patty and asked if I could ride her in my next lesson.

The rest is pretty much history. I rode her for a month before Patty called to tell me there was another interested party. I wrote the check the next day, and she was mine. The day I knew I was hers came a couple of months later. Her previous owner worked at the barn, and I harbored some concern that she wouldn’t know that I was her human.

One day I had tacked up for a ride and was sitting on the bench in the arena putting on spurs. Hwin (I had changed her name from “Fatty”.) was standing in front of me, and I wasn’t holding her. Her previous owner walked to her other side and started opening a mint. If anyone knows my horse, they know how much she is drawn to the crinkle of a candy wrapper, and she was much less well-mannered in those days. She took a step toward it, stopped and turned to me as if to ask permission. I said, “It's OK, Hwin, go ahead.” She went to get her mint, and we have not looked back a day in the last eleven years.