Getting to the Heart of Things: How our Family Wound up Buying a Horse

How our family wound up buying a horse instead of a boat is a question simply answered, yet the pathway to our decision is less straightforward.

It was days before our weekend family movie night – Friday or Saturday evening - when we pick a movie to watch together – that a friend recommended the movie “Buck,” a documentary about Buck Brannaman. The movie touched a nerve with me personally as I too had grown to love horses and for many reasons, including how my Mom’s intense focus on horses had driven a wedge in her marriage, precipitating a very messy divorce, I decided that wasn’t the path for me. Happily married with one child, if given a preference between participating in a hobby with or without my husband and son, I prefer the former.

So it was that we three sat in rapt attention as Buck’s life story played in front of us. The movie ended and we all sat quietly. Rowan broke the silence with a question “Mom, do you think we could get a horse?” “Wow. That’s the million-dollar question,” I thought. I looked over at Doug to gauge his reaction and said: “yeah Rowan, I think we could.”

“I want a black Tennessee Walker,” Rowan said.

“That’s great Rowan but that’s not how finding a horse works. The right horse will find us and he could be any shape, color or size. But we’ll know him when we meet him,” I said gently.

Pusher's Sunrise Son and I

The next week, I mentioned to a co-worker who I know is involved in the local horse scene, that we were looking for a horse. “I’ve been out of horses for a lot of years, and the guys are new riders so it will have to be a really special horse,” I said. She responded thoughtfully “you know, I think my husband might be selling his horse…”

“Really?” I said. “What kind is he?”

“He’s a black Tennessee Walker.”

The hair stood up on my neck and I got goose bumps. “Really?” I said.

The series of events that took place next however predictable, I am certain unfolded with divine guidance. We drove out to meet Pusher and each one of us jumped up on his back, bareback with only a halter and lead rope and rode him. I knew immediately he was the horse for our family but the decision had a lot more tied to it than just finances…for me, it meant an opportunity to change my relationship with horses. And the only way I was going to consider it is if my family was on-board too.

Doug and I went to dinner and I shared my reservations. The fact that I didn’t need or want a hobby that would take me away from my family; I loved them both and didn’t want to repeat what I had lived through as a teenager. That if we made the decision to buy Pusher, it would be a game-changer and we would be on a different track, one that likely would involve horses for a long time to come; that more than anything this was a family decision, not a “Mom” decision.

Doug listened patiently and told me how much he loved the horse. It was almost instant. He felt comfortable and happy. In the end, we chose to buy Pusher – an animal with a heart – versus some thing without one (read: boat).

Months later, we are still head-over-heels in love with Pusher. Trained for the mounted police, he appreciates and responds to the differences between our riding styles. When he is carrying our ten-year-old, his behavior is slightly different then when Doug or I are riding him. The thing that remains consistent is that when we trust that he will care for us; he trusts that we will care for him.

We have gradually pursued pleasure riding – the boys more often-than-not riding horses that are hand-selected by Noelle, our trainer – while I get to ride Pusher who we have nicknamed “Mr. Wonderful.” Often I find myself so overcome with joy after leaving a ride or visit that I can’t help but cry.

Two weeks ago, after returning from our first event horse event, I shared this sentiment with Noelle “Thank you to you and your family for caring for us and our boy. It’s like horses never left me…a good feeling.” Her response “…The feeling? Either plain exhaustion or seeing horses in your son’s eyes.” My guess: it’s a little bit of both.