Hello

This is my new blog where I can obsess about riding/horses without boring anyone who's not obsessed themself...

This is a spinoff from my blog Two Brush Strokes, which chronicles my recovery and life post stroke. The quick version of my history is this: I've been riding hunter/jumper, dressage, and just for pleasure since I was eight. About ten years I became focused on training and starting horses in anticipation of having my own baby someday. Four years ago my dream came true—my mom purchased a Hanoverian yearling that I got to work with. She was the kind of horse that would be too expensive once started, to ever be a reality. Just over a year ago I was going to start her—I'd worked on ground manners, long lining, working in a bit and saddle, etc. About the same time, I lost my dream. I suffered from a stroke of the pons and midbrain (brainstem), that almost killed me and left me completely paralyzed—unable to speak, swallow, or breathe independently. I was not quite 30. No, it's been a year, a month, and a week, I've relearned speech, swallowing (eating), and walking (with assistance).

About a month ago we (my parents and I) decided to try working with our horse to get me comfortable with horses again. I've worked with either Gabreala (Ella) or Harley (Ella's trainer's horse) every Wednesday. I've brushed, bathed, walked, lunged, and free lunged Ella. All with assistance of course—I have major balance issues and poor reaction time. This week, if she is calm, I am going to try sitting on her, while a couple of people hold her. Why does she have to be such a tall horse? All of a sudden a short, fat, slow horse sounds wonderful...

I guess I should add—I was working on my NARHA trainer certification when this happened, so I'm pretty familiar with therapeutic riding, as are most of my friends.