A new BFF for Bryson

For the past few weeks I have been pouring over internet ads, sales papers, and picking the minds of my friends and family to find a new four legged friend for our son. He has had a pony for a few years now but they were a mismatch of abilities and the pony spent more time eating grass than being ridden, and unfortunately Bryson was not developing in his riding skills watching him through a fence. So we found the pony a home with a young rider that was more suited for his abilities and began the quest to find Bryson his first horse. No more ponies...he wanted a big horse this time that he could ride all by himself. In the horse-world they are called "babysitters". A horse you would trust your child to ride anywhere anytime. I discovered these are not as easy to find as one would expect in the current down turned economy when every day horses are being GIVEN away. Apparently like fine estate jewelry, these are closely held treasures that rarely make it to market. So off searching we went....for a diamond in the rough.

We looked at big ones, little ones, dark ones, light ones, spotted ones, fat ones, skinny ones, old and young, near and far....some we test drove and some we LOL'ed and did a U-turn in the driveway. Finally after much searching we found one that (mostly) fit the bill. He is not of fine pedigree, or exotic color, he does not have a list of accolades and accomplishments, nor does he pass the 100-point inspection test but he has what matters most....a good heart and a willing attitude. And for once he was not half way across the Continental United States; he was only a few miles up the road.

I was skeptical at first from the description the young girl gave me from the other end of the phone. He was 8 yrs old and his papers had been "lost" along the way, he was stubborn at times and wouldn't turn, and he was spooky at night. Not really what I had in mind....but he was only a short drive away so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and we loaded up in the truck to go see him. Bryson's eyes lit up as soon as we drove up and saw him tied to the side of the round pen. He was an unusual horse because one of his eyes was equally divided into two colors. The front half was pale blue and the back a chocolate brown. It immediately caught your attention at the oddity of nature. He had an immense white blaze that seemed to gently arc under each eye and then extend down below his chin like an apron. Apparently the only traits his paint mother had passed on.

He stood much taller than I had expected and I had to lift Bryson over my head to boost him into the saddle for his first ride (after mom and dad tested him out first). The gelding stood quietly and waited for Bryson to climb his way to the top up the side of the saddle...he looked like an awkward squirrel. The horse waited to be told what to do; he easily moved from one gait to the next and quickly came to a halt when Bryson asked. My son's face was glowing with accomplishment and confidence as he sat astride this gentle giant.

The girl's grandfather pulled my husband aside to tell him the "problems" the girl spoke of were not "problems" but more a mismatch of abilities. We knew this story well after the frustration with Bryson's pony. This young girl had never owned a horse before and had no one to help her so many of the things she was asking of the horse were confusing to him and when he didn't do what she asked he would stop moving and she would become frustrated. Just like my son and his pony, this girl spent more time watching him through the fence than riding him.

My husband decided we need talk about it on the way home and we had one more horse to look at the following night that we had already committed to. So with shoulders slumped and his bottom lip formed into a disheartened pout, Bryson kicked at the rocks on his way to the truck, disappointed that we were going home that night empty handed. Before we ever started the truck I knew the trip to look at the other horse would be wasted. Bryson had his heart set on the big sorrel with the half blue eye.

We drove home in silence not wanting to give our son any false hopes. I could feel Bryson's sad eyes burning a hole through the back of my seat straight through to my heart. I knew how he felt more than I could ever convey. Sometimes you just "know" when things feel right. So the following evening after looking at one last horse I made the phone call that will forever be a favorite childhood memory for my son. “We’ll take him!” I told the young girl as we made arrangements to pick him up the following evening.

I am sure Bryson’s teachers had a tough time getting him to do anything that Thursday at school as he bubbled with anticipation of bringing his new friend home. We made the trip to Kingsland one more time and after a tearful goodbye from the young girl we loaded up the gelding and pointed the truck north for the hour drive home. Bryson talked non-stop in the backseat about what to name him, what color bridle he wanted, the adventures they would take, and how excited he was to have his first “real horse”. I don’t think he slept much that night as he was a bear to get up the next morning for school!

The following afternoon we saddled him up and once again I lifted Bryson high over my head to start his new friendship. The glowing smile that stretched across his face as sat astride the big sorrel, now named “Big Daddy", was one of those life moments that you know he will treasure for the rest of his life. A flood of memories came rushing back to me of myself being his age and my daddy handing me the lead rope to a little flaxen mane mare named Prancer who sparked my love of horses that still burns to this day.

I am very grateful to be able to share these moments with my own children.