My Copper Champion - a Horse with Heart

In her younger days, the lovely chestnut mare excelled at three-day eventing. From primo Westphalian bloodlines, she was built to jump with elegance and ease. She cleared water hazards, walls and other obstacles handily.

A robust red beauty with two front white socks and a striking stripe on her face, Angie outran every entry in the field.

In dressage classes, performing high-level tests alone in the ring with a rider, Angie dazzled horse show judges with her lovely lateral work and prancing poise. Stellar scores and complimentary comments filled her show reports.

In stadium jumping, no one could touch her. Like her renowned sire before her, Angie owned the course.

She glowed in the sun, but she shined brightest in a horse show.

A Change of Pace

Eventually, however, as eventing horses do, Angie suffered an injury. Leaping a floral jump in the field in a horse show, she was kicked by a spooked Hanoverian stallion. He clipped her left hind leg with one hoof, and she went down hard.

After two months of stall rest and another month of hand-walking, Angie was ready to begin working again. The mare was sound, but her eventing days were over. At seven, she became solely a dressage mount.

Ribbons and Wonders

Ever the competitor, Angie was formidable in the horse show ring. She flipped through flying lead changes, half passes and shoulder-in movements with grace. She piaffed and pirouetted, seemingly enjoying the horse show judges' attention and accolades.

A Family Horse

Finally, as Angie turned ten, her young owner lost interest in horseback riding. She had set her sights on college, career plans and young men.

That's where I came in. After about a year of horseback riding lessons, I was just about ready to purchase my first horse. After viewing and trying out several potential mounts, I visited the competition barn where Angie was boarded. One ride with Angie, and I was sold.

Two weeks later, our equine veterinarian performed the pre-purchase examination and pronounced Angie sound and healthy. She joined the family a week later.

Just a Little Jumpy

We boarded Angie at a busy hunter/jumper horse show facility. The stalls were generously sized, and the indoor and outdoor arenas were superb. However, the turnout pastures were limited. Angie was given about an hour of turnout each day in a small paddock with a young Trakehner mare. This was not nearly enough.

I tried faithfully to ride Angie daily, indoors or out. Usually, the mare was compliant and fairly calm, at least after a fair amount of schooling.

Sometimes she was a little fresher, particularly when jumping students and trainers drove their horses through indoor courses at full tilt. Even at ten, Angie still loved to run and to jump, whenever I let her.

When the riding arena was crowded or noisy, if a horse headed straight for Angie, she would often spook or spin suddenly. Eventually, I learned to anticipate these responses.

Of course, whenever I put a young child in the saddle for a ride on the longe line, Angie was a well-behaved babysitter. Somehow, she knew the difference.

Pony Camp Mishap

During the summer, the barn held Pony Club day camps for young children. One morning, I saddled Angie to ride during a Pony Club session. The kids were paired with gentle old ponies and sent packing along the rail of the indoor riding arena. Each pony diligently followed the tail in from of him, around and around the riding arena.

Angie and I took the inside track, giving the youngsters and their ponies plenty of room. We went through the paces together, beginning with a warmup walk. We advanced to trot and then canter.

At the canter, Angie and I practiced loops and lead changes. Coming around one corner, she slipped and fell. Down we went.

I can still see the whole scene in my head. Angie was on the ground, with me aboard. For about a heartbeat, I pondered our options. I could bail out and hope that Angie would stand up soundly on her own. If so, I could try to hold onto the reins and prevent her from getting loose. Or I could attempt to stay with the horse and urge her to stand, if she was able to do so.

Looking around the riding arena at all the little Pony Clubbers, with their loopy reins and shaky balance, I chose to stick with the horse. Turning loose a frightened (and probably injured) equine with all those beginning riders in the ring was simply not an option.

Trust in Action

Still on the ground, I shifted my weight uphill on the horse, to try to spread my weight out evenly on her. I loosened the reins and squeezed Angie's sides with my thighs.

"C'mon, girl," I urged her. I prayed the horse would find the strength and the sanity to right herself. Could she do it, with me aboard?

Underneath me, my mare groaned and rocked and stood. She shook her sides to drop off the arena dirt. She straightened up and began to walk off, though somewhat unevenly. We walked a large loopy serpentine in the riding arena, and we were done. Clearly, Angie was hurt.

Hurting, But Heroic

The equine veterinarian arrived that afternoon to take x-rays and ultrasounds of Angie's right front leg. She had torn a tendon and would require six months of stall rest.

Even with this painful injury, Angie had played the heroine, rescuing me and remaining level-headed around all of those Pony Club kids.

Those six months of stall rest became half a year of horse hospitality, as I pampered my mare with grooming and goodies. Angie deserved it!