Thirteen years ago I walked into a barn in upper New York State to see a mare who was for sale. I didn’t want a mare, but the trainer and owner both told me that she was the sweetest mare they’d ever known and she was bred for endurance… so I took the long drive to see her. She was in the back of the barn in a stall. I heard her soft nicker as I approached. I went into her stall and it was love at first sight for both of us. She was a gorgeous 5 year old bay with just a small white star. I knew with every fiber of my soul that she was mine forever.

My Rianon is strong, brave, self possessed, kind and gentle….and a wonderful athlete. Point that mare down a trail and she just eats ground. I call her my “war mare” because she is the type of mare the Bedouin warriors would have chosen to ride into battle .Loyalty with great Heart. We have covered thousands of miles together seeing some of the most spectacular scenery imaginable, many times alone for hours exploring new trails, sometimes getting lost – neither of us caring as long as we were together. She was never “easy”……..and my arms ached after many rides……..but each ride ended with a smile seeing that accomplished look on her pretty face.

We always did well at the many CTR’s and the few Endurance rides we did, but scores didn’t matter that much. I loved spending an entire weekend with her. She’d watch me intently as I loaded up the trailer on Friday afternoon knowing very well we were off on another adventure. She practically loaded herself onto the trailer… filled with anticipation.  At every new or familiar ride site she unloaded with poise, tossed her lovely head, surveyed her surroundings with grace and calm.  She loved camping. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that at rides she was allowed to eat all she wanted to and as often!  Each ride and each experience brought us closer and closer. We trusted each other without question. She has seen me through a divorce, two moves, several heart breaks and many life tsunamis.  Always her strong body carried me through. With her under me I felt whole.

Over a year ago she fell and tore several ligaments in her left front leg.  I knew I would do whatever was within my means to heal her. PRP, Ultrasound, Shock Wave, injections, massage, rest……  Just when I thought things were getting better her right knee, which had a torn joint capsule from a pasture injury when she was two – which never gave her any trouble previously – got worse….and worse. I had it drained and injected twice. Her range of motion was now limited in both front legs and she stumbled dangerously down even the slightest hill. It was worse with my weight on her back.  This summer it was painfully clear that I was doing her more harm than good by riding her even at a walk.  I don’t know who was more devastated when I stopped riding her. The look in her eyes was so sad. I cried into her mane missing the feel of her trot and the joy of sharing the trail. And, to add insult……..I got a young gelding who needed my time. I felt like I was cheating on a faithful lover. My heart ached.

When it came time to put winter shoes on her, which I always did since we loved a good winter’s ride, I decided to pull her shoes.  I had tears in my eyes. Somehow she knew what this meant. She’s only 17, too young to retire. She has so much heart and strength. I still have hope that with the winter completely off maybe, just maybe, in the spring we can do some light riding, but I think I’m being overly optimistic.

Every single day the sight of her still takes my breath away. She is so lovely and has the kindest eye and her face is filled with expression. She will be with me till the end of her days…..even if someone pulls my shoes, too.

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