Not every story ends with a World Championship trophy, not every story ends with a perfect ending. But does that mean a story has ended? Or does it just leave more room for chapters to be written in this book we call life? My story doesn’t end with the conclusion that had been dancing in my dreams since I was a little girl. I am totally okay with that.
In 2011, I went to a local Appaloosa breeder about fifteen minutes from my house. The owner pulled out a gangly, clumsy two-year-old with a blanket covering his entire back end and flowing all the way to his shoulders. I immediately compared him to my beloved solid sorrel gelding, who was at home. This two-year-old might have had a lot of growing up to do, but he looked at me with his big kind eye, and I immediately knew we could be an amazing team. We bought, No Worries, aka Forest, a few weeks later.
I had a plan. First comes local shows, then regional shows, then the Appaloosa Youth World Championship Show in Fort Worth, Texas. In that order, with no interruptions. Well, as we all know (and I had to learn the hard way) nothing goes according to plan. I took Forest to a show in February of 2014 with high hopes of the season ahead.
Everything was on schedule, with my end goal in sight. The show was going great, then I went into my hunter under saddle class. Forest was tense the entire class and something just didn’t feel right. Little did I know at that moment, my plan would be shattered with no hope of repair.
Months later, we came to find out that my partner that had worked every day with me, the horse I put all my blood, sweat, and tears into had a degenerative bone disease. It was mostly affecting him in his hocks. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; it was predestined that this would happen to him.
This could have been my ending. I could have quit right then, said this is too hard, and walked away. But I found another option. Forest had to be put on stall rest for a year. No hand walking, just locked up. It was during this time that I decided to pull out that same solid sorrel gelding that was at home. He was my old walk trot pleasure horse, Move Over Zip, aka Timmy.
I had this wild idea to do gymkhana with him. He was 21 at the time and even I thought it was crazy. We went to run at our first Michigan Appaloosa show and actually did… well. This started a new journey I never thought I could accomplish. Timmy and I ended up National Year End High Point in 2014 for 14-18 Barrels and Keyhole. So in 2015, I decided to fulfill my dream of attending the Appaloosa Youth World Show, but I was going to take my 22-year-old and run.
All the while, Forest was healing. Little by little, day by day, he was doing everything he could to become healthy again. I began riding him in January of 2015 and wasn’t planning on showing him, just hauling him with us so he wouldn’t lose his mind sitting at home. We would enter a class here and there, but only when Forest was feeling up to it.
When I did show him at the local shows, he did better than expected. The time came for the World Show finally rolled around and, I asked my mom if we could bring Forest with us. He was so happy to be back on the road. I figured Forest would be a great hauling buddy for Timmy, and it would be a great experience for both horses to go.
We made the long haul from Michigan to Texas and I was amazed. Despite everything that happened in the past year, I actually made it there and was ready to run Timmy faster than ever. Yet, another hurdle was put in front of me. The haul really took a toll on Timmy and he was slightly off in his front leg from the moment we stepped off that trailer.
We took it easy, and I was able to run him in the barrels and got an eighth. I was ecstatic. It could only go up from here, right? Figure Eight was our next class. Into our first turn, something was not right. I took him to the vet and she gave us the devastating news that Timmy had strained a tendon. If we wanted to guarantee a safe trip home for him, I couldn’t run him. More heartbreak. Here I was in Fort Worth, Texas at my only Youth World Show, and I had a horse that I couldn’t ride, and another who had been barely ridden, let alone shown in the past year.
I was crying into my mom’s shoulder. I was done. This was the last straw. I couldn’t continue. I completed 98% of my goal with the finish line almost in my grasp, and it slipped through my fingers. My mom looked at me and said, “Ashley we are at the World Championship Show, make something of it!”
Again, this could have been my ending. We could have packed up and gone home right then. But, I decided to keep writing my story. I wanted to flip the page. I decided to take Forest in the Novice Youth Hunter Under Saddle two days later. I had no saddle, no clothes, but I was going to find a way. I called fellow Michiganders whom I knew made the trip and was asking anyone who would listen if I could borrow clothes or tack.
My trainer, Michelle McCarthy-Warda, was there with another client and she found me an entire outfit to wear. Someone else gave me a saddle and yet another person supplied me with a bridle. I was amazed at the support of fellow horse showers around me in this strange state all the way across the country.
I took Forest in the class, and he was an absolute angel. He did everything he was supposed to. But when we were cantering to the right, and I took my spur out for one second, and I felt him break to the trot. It was barely a stride, but it still happened. I finished out the class, and stood in the line up.
No, I didn’t hear my number called back for the finals. As I was walking out of that arena, I saw my mom and trainer waiting for me at the gate. They both had worried looks on their faces. I just gave them a huge smile. “I just showed Forest at the World Show!” I told them. And I knew that was enough. Forest came through for me when I needed him the most, just as Timmy did when I needed him.
This, I realized, is what horse showing is all about. Not the trophies, not the ribbons, but the privilege to have a relationship with these amazing animals, whom we can humbly call our teammates. So no, I didn’t get that championship. But, I got so much more. I have relationships with people who share my passion. I have friends who understand the highs and lows of this sport.
Most importantly, I have two best friends who would do anything for me, my horses. My ending hasn’t happened yet, and maybe it never will. There are so many chapters left in my book. I am now back to showing Forest regularly at Michigan Appaloosa shows and other regional shows. Timmy is in “semi-retirement” and enjoying some time off. So this isn’t the end of my story. Just the end of another chapter in this book we call life.
