Hola, Scooter, Happy 80th!

Monday, August 04, 2019

I’ve written that a neighbor, Sherry, who lives about a mile away, recently flagged me to a stop as my driving horse and I cruised the neighborhood on an exercise run. Sherry wondered if next Sunday, I might be willing give her mom, Scooter, a former horsewoman, a ride in my driving cart. That day would be Scooter’s 80th birthday. Saying yes was easy, because my driving horse Sunni is kind, dependable, and well-trained. Fast forward to yesterday, Scooter’s birthday, and time for Sherry’s intended surprise for her mom, the planned “horse fix”.

Last Friday, I injected vaccinations into the necks of my equines–a process usually without incident. But Sunni had reacted with a stiff neck–similar to how a human arm may react after an injection. I knew that in a few days Sunni’s neck would be normal, but right now she couldn’t be harnessed and driven. Unfortunately, by Scooter’s birthday Sunni’ wasn’t okay, I didn’t want to disappoint Sherry and also wanted to help her former-horsewoman mom have a “horse-fix”.

The alternative would be to drive Rosie, an well-trained horse but with a strong mind and imagination. Driving Rosie makes me work hard, to keep her from jigging and hopping instead of walking. Keeping her while trotting from stretching her head from side to side and looking around. Keeping her from weaving and not staying near the roadway’s right side. Oh, yes, and those dangerous trash cans, especially the ones overturned that can bite. Would Rosie’s over-alertness frighten Scooter? On the other hand, do I really distrust Rosie? After all, several times weekly, I’m in a cart behind the moving mare. Driving her demands attention, is work, but she’s not done anything to make me fear being on the road with her. So, when Sherry called, Rosie it was.

After I harnessed, hitched, and forced Rosie to walk a bit, we began trotting so she could warm up and loosen joints. Our ride to Sherry’s gave me a chance to be certain nothing in the neighborhood was alarming–no loose kids or dogs, nor overturned trash cans. After reaching Sherry’s and pulling to a halt, Scooter’s adult children helped the birthday girl board and don a protective helmet. Meanwhile, Rosie, although a bit impatient, seemed to enjoy having Sherry at her head, massaging her ears.

We started off at a slow trot, before I realized that Scooter was frightened in the bouncing cart. She said she feared being bounced out, asking if we could walk. I slowed Rosie for whom walking nearly is impossible, she jigs and hops. To my absolute shock, she easily slowed and began walking, pulling the cart steadily without looking around nor worrying about anything in the world, including passing cars. In another quarter mile, on reaching our turnaround point, Rosie turned walking and back toward Sherry’s.

Meanwhile, Scooter and I talked. She’d moved to Bend about 40 years ago, and soon afterwards became a single parent. To support her family, she worked in the mills, and afterwards for years worked as a bartender. She had grown up with a beloved horse and referred to its breed as an “Oregon Broomtail”. She describes the “old Bend”, long a teeny-tiny town–a great perspective to hear from one who’s lived in this place since way before it became popular.

I asked Scooter if she’d be okay now if Rosie goes into a slow trot. She decided, yes, at first gripping the cart, but relaxed as we rocked along behind the horse, toward Sherry’s home and to welcoming cheers from Scooter’s kids. Rosie stood patiently while Scooter dismounted, excited. I looked at my horse and thought, “Bless you, Rosie.” As we headed home, she swung into an easy trot, going without a single distraction.

That afternoon was wonderful. Not only could I offer something special to a “birthday girl” and meet a nice family, but Rosie had seemed different–easy and cooperative. Once home and unharnessed, she cuddled by pushing her head against me for some face-rubbing. Oh, my, is this Rosie?

Well, it’s all about perspective, isn’t it? That evening I stood watching Rosie, and now, from her seemed to flow rainbows instead of lightening rods. Really! Is it a dream or has our relationship evolved?

Dear Friends: Scooter’s birthday turned over that glass, made it half-full. Diana