HOMEWORK

As soon as Jeff and his clan headed out the driveway, I picked up my cell phone and sent the photos I had taken of him to Noah’s former owner along with the missive: 
“I need to talk to you about Nowheretohide as soon as you are free.”

My phone rang shortly thereafter.

“Hi!,” said Louise’s cheery voice on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”

“Did you get the pictures I sent of Noah?”

“Yes.“Is he ok? Who is that guy? He’s so big! ”

“Noah’s fine. But I have a story to tell you. Do  you have a minute?…”

“Sure.”

“Well, it’s a strange tale, but the guy's a football player from Minnesota who has his heart set on adopting Noah...” and I described to her Jeff’s visit the day before, my sending him away, only for him to come back an hour later to make a second plea.

“He was so keen to talk to me again that I obliged him,” I said.  “As I listened to his arguments and as I watched him speak,”  I told her,  "I became intrigued by him, by his passion and his persistence."

“I decided to let Noah have a say. I told Jeff to come back today so that I could see them interact at liberty in a round pen."

“Is Noah sound yet?  He can’t be adopted by anyone if he isn’t sound!,” Louise said , worried.

“Noah is almost sound. Or I should say almost “even.” He is still a little weaker on the left stifle but you can hardly see or feel it. The consistent work, herbs, and acupuncture have really made a difference. I’d give him a few more weeks on this regime. Then he ought to be good to go.”

“Well, he is not to go anywhere until you think he’s ready.”

“Oh, don’t worry!,” he won’t. “None of my horses do, and ESPECIALLY, not Noah!”

“Can Jeff ride?"

“Not, really,” I replied. “And Noah’s a hot horse! My plan was to use the round pen to show Jeff that they had nothing in common, but in less than two minutes Noah joined up with Jeff and followed him around like a puppy dog! So my next strategy was for Jeff to experience, in a safe way, how excitable and strong Noah could be to ride. But, that plan back fired, too. Noah was a perfect gentleman! It floored me and all of us who work at the Center. We couldn’t believe it!”

“So what did you do?”

“I called Jeff into my office afterwards and told him that he had won me and Noah over, but that there were two more hoops he had to jump through.

“And those are?"

"Number one: I had to call Noah’s former owner and get her approval. Number 2: He had to go home, ride five days a week, taking at least three lessons a week, do the reading assignments I gave him, and to call me every Sunday.”

Louise laughed.

“Oh, I told him he has to lose weight, too! 

“You think he’ll do all that?”

“I have no idea. We will have to see.”

“Well,” Louise said thoughtfully. “I’m ok with this plan, but only if and when Noah gets sound.”

“No worries. And let me tell you, if he does get Noah, your horse will have fallen into a tub of butter because this guy knows all about healing modalities: Massage, magnets, acupuncture, herbs, homeopathy—he’s done and does them all himself!”

After we hung you, I dialed Jeff.

“HELL-oooooo!,” Jeff boomed.  

“You on the interstate?”

“Yeah!”

“I’ve  got good news.”

“Yeah????”

“I just hung up with Noah’s former owner. She’s given you the green light-so long as Noah gets 100% sound, which I think he will….”

‘AWESOME!!!,” he belted.

“But you have to do your homework! You hear me?  Lessons? Reading? Call me? And LOSE WEIGHT!’

“YOU BETCHA! “

“Well, ok. Congratulations. I want to know who you select as a riding instructor and I want you to buy Sally Swift’s book Centered Riding. Read the first chapter. Look for paralells in football. I’ll expect a call from you every Sunday. We will talk about your lessons and your reading. Plan on coming back in five or six weeks.”

Jeff did everything I asked of him, leaving me a message the very next Sunday.

“Hey Susanna, it’s…JEFFY!”

“Jeffy?” I thought. How does a man that big go by ‘Jeffy’?!

“I am calling you you to give you the weekly update. I rode five times this week.…” 

And so began our regular phone calls. He started, as I had reccommended, on a lunge line, learning to master his balance and developing an independant seat. Every week, he shared his experiences with me: "I cantered today on for the first time. It was absolutely AWESOME!”  He did his reading. We discussed similarities between football and riding. I found myself looking forward very much to our calls every Sunday. Not only was his enthusiasm infectious,  but he had interesting observations and discoveries to share every time we talked.

“I am shocked at how similar riding is to football!,” he told me. “I had no idea how technical riding is. I mean trying to get a horse to go in a straight line is so hard, let alone in a round circle!  And cantering, well, cantering is so technical it was out of the picture for me for a while!” (Not that long I thought. Maybe three weeks on the lunge line?)

I was fascinated to hear of his comparisons to football. 

“Making sure you have "soft eyes” that technique that Sally Swift writes about, using your peripheral vision in addition to being able to focus on the thing in front of you reminded me of playing center. I needed to be able to take in the entire field and defense, while at the same time see and block the 300 pounds breathing down my face!”

Jeff told me about the importance of body stance/position in football and how, just like in riding it was the keystone of success.

“Sally Swift talked a lot about being balanced, loading one foot, shifting your weight in the direction that you want to go. Well in football—especially at the higher levels—your body stance, your posture and your balance are the building blocks for the offensive lineman. Offensive line coaches talk a lot about that. That was a concept I could really understand.”

“And if you are a wide receiver or a tight end or a running back or fullback you really need to have soft hands when catching the ball. That’s just like in riding!  You need soft hands so you have a happy horse and you are not jerking him or balancing yourself on his mouth.”

“Oh, and I have also found out first hand, that when you don’t employ correct technique, you fall off your horse. In football, if you don’t have the right stance, you will get knocked on your back!”

We laughed about that.  

“Yup, that pesky law of gravity will get you, won’t it, Jeffy?  Ever had any injuries?”

The list was impressive and included, along with the usual list of bruises and muscles strains, torn ACLs and MCLs, four screws in one knee, five screws and a plate in an ankle, a serious bone infection, and a dislocated heel.  And who knows how many concussions? No wonder at 28 Jeff had decided to hang up the football towel and to pursue an MBA.

“Why football, Jeff?”

“I started playing sports from a very young age:  Flag football, hockey, baseball, golf and soccer. When I was younger I was sure I would become a professional soccer player. At age 10, I played against Brazil and Egypt on the U10 USA Cup.”

“In third grade I went out for tackle football and after two practices, I quit. Soccer was my future. Then I got older, and by the time I was in 6th grade I weighed 206 pounds. It became increasingly evident that soccer was not in my cards! I was constantly getting yellow cards and red cards for running people over or for for them touching me and falling down.”

"So I moved on to golf and focused on becoming a professional golfer. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in high school that I found a sport that I was exceptional at based on what God has blessed me with: Football!"

"From high school I walked on to the University of Minnesota football team. When you are a walk on, you have to prove that you deserve to be there. So I worked longer and harder and more than my teammates. They’d quit and I’d stay in the gym. They’d take days off, I would train. After college I signed a contract with the NFL Tampa Bay Buccaneers.”

“When people tell me I can’t do something, I am so competitive, I’ll DIE just to prove them wrong.”

I knew something about that.

In the last week of August, just five weeks after his first visit, Jeff came back to the MMSC. He looked totally different.  He sported quadriceps revealing britches (“They are just like football pants,” he said), paddock boots, half chaps and an expensive helmet. He was thiner. His hair was short. What hadn’t changed was his excitement about seeing “his guy Noah,” and clearly Noah was happy to see him too. When Jeff came in his stall, Noah nuzzled him then stuck his head on his chest.

“You ready to ride?” I asked.

“You BETCHA!”

“Need a lunge rope?”

“Nope!

And he was right. Jeff rode Noah beautifully. They walked and trotted, circled and serpentined, halted and backed up. Jeff was so balanced  he could even do something he had envied his girlfriend Lauren for just several weeks prior: He could ride with both arms outstretched in front of him.

I was impressed.

“Go around the world,” I said, wondering if Noah would act up at all.

“What?!”

“At a stand still. Swing your leg over his hind end. Then to one side, then over his head. Don’t worry, I’ll hold Noah.”

And he did. Noah never flinched nor moved.

“OK. Now go back the other way.”

He did.

“Now lean back on his rump.”

“Now touch his ears.”

Now jump off!”

All of which he did.

“Well?” Jeff asked.

“That was amazing!” I replied. “I have never seen anyone make so much progress so quickly.”

Jeff stretched his arms up in the air.

“Can I have him?”

“Well yes…and no.”

“Huh?”

“Well, yes, because I think you have earned it and yes because Noah clearly has chosen you. But no, because you are still a bit green and Noah’s canter is still a little disorganized. It’s getting better thanks to his rider, Alicia, but it’s not confirmed yet.”

Jeff looked disappointed.

“But, I brought a trailer with me!”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be yours. You two just need a little more experience. I want to send you both off with every chance of success. Besides I would like you to come back to tell your story with Noah beside you at our fundraiser, Sips ’n Saddles on September 19.”

“I can do that!” Jeff said.

“And your trailer won’t go back to Minnesota empty, either. There will be a horse in it in....just not Noah!”

Cheery bye,
Susanna

Noah’s Decision

“Jeff was in there a really long time,” Nick told me when the Minnesota titans came back to the MMSC the next day.

“He was,” I said, remembering Jeff’s relentless drive to get Noah.

“The three of us were watching from the truck and figured that so long as a little blond woman didn’t come flying through the window, things were going okay!”

I laughed. “Your brother doesn’t like to give up!”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed with a chuckle. “He’s pretty persistent when he sets his mind on something.”

“I can see that. I am convinced that he is too big and too green for Noah, but in the end, I figured we ought to see what Noah thinks before I sent you all packing back to Minnesota.”

“Good deal!”

Hmmm, I thought. We’ll see. I didn’t expect any miracles. I was convinced that Noah would show Jeff quickly what a crazy whim it was to adopt him.

Jeff couldn’t wait to see Noah and made a beeline for his stall.

“I’m back, buddy!” he called to him through the stall bars. Nick, Nick’s fiancé Jessie, and Jeff’s girlfriend Lauren stood in the grooming aisle, while Jeff crooned on.

“OK. Here’s the deal,” I announced. “Horses are prey animals. They protect themselves by fight or flight. They are safer in groups, thus the herd is organized in a hierarchy. Jeff, we are going to put you and Noah at liberty in a round pen together and we will look for two things. 1. Can you communicate with him? And 2. Can you get him to respect you? Ready?”

“You bet!” said Jeff, who practically danced out to the round pen on his toes he was so excited. 

I led Noah into the round pen and turned him loose. He ambled off, smelled the remnant droppings, then went to the wall and looked out at his buddies in the paddocks beyond. I handed Jeff a carrot stick (a 4-foot long stick with 2-foot rope attached used to direct a horse without touching it) and launched into what I thought was a precise offense of words explaining how to use it.  

“You’re on your own,” I said and stepped out of the round pen.

Jeff shot me a look that reminded me of my own son the first day I left him at kindergarten, the kind of doubting expression that pierced my heart.

“Hey, buddy,” Jeff said turned towards Noah. Noah glanced at him briefly then trotted away. 

“Noah, my man. C’mere!”

Noah ignored him.

I had to help Jeff! So I gave him more instructions. Jeff tried, but was lumbering. Then a light when off in my brain. As a football player, Jeff’s primary language was physical, not verbal!

“Hold on! Hold on!” I said as I came through the gate into the round pen.  “Here’s what we’re going to do. You and Noah are on one team. I am on the opposing one. Like a quarterback, you have to call the plays and get Noah to work with you. Except that it’s different. I am Team PUMA, and if I get to Noah before you do, I eat him. That’s how it works in the prey-predator world. Get it?”

Jeff nodded.

“Ready! GO!” and I dashed at Noah’s hind end and tried to herd him in the direction of my choice. Jeff deftly cut me off, sending Noah cantering in the other direction. So I flipped around and came at Noah from another direction. But again Jeff was quicker than me.   

Breathless, I stopped. Jeff did too and Noah walked right up beside him. 

“Guess it’s kinda crazy of me to think I could outrun an NFL player, eh?”

Jeff gave me a huge, Shrek-like grin.

“OK.  See if Noah will follow you now. Don’t look at him, just walk away.”

Jeff did, walking slow then fast, changing directions, starting and stopping. Noah was right behind him every step of the way.

“Ok. Time to tack him up!”

“You’re gonna let me ride him?”

“Yup. You passed the first test. Let’s see what Noah says when you are on his back.” I was certain that Noah’s behavior under saddle would change Jeff’s mind. To set the stage, I asked Lauren, a very accomplished rider, to ride Noah first. It didn’t take her long to agree with my conviction that Noah was the wrong horse for Jeff. 

It was Jeff’s turn. I put Noah on a lead rope and commissioned Catherine and Lauren to follow close by. We went over to the mounting block. “You’re going to take care of me buddy, right?” Jeff said to Noah.

Jeff awkwardly climbed onto Noah. Although he sat with an exemplary straight back, his toes were pointing down, and his hands were held high and out before him if he were water skiing.

I was glad I was at the end of the rope as I expected Noah, ever willing to move forward FAST, would lurch into a rapid trot and leave the top heavy Jeff behind in the dust. But Noah did nothing of the kind. His ears flipped back and forth as if trying to comprehend the incoming signals, and when he couldn’t get the information he needed, he did something very uncharacteristic - he stopped.

I gave Jeff a few pointers and in a few minutes I felt comfortable in unhooking the lead rope. Nonetheless I stayed close, just in case. Jeff did his utmost to steer, turn, stop.  How Noah made sense of the cacophony of conflicting messages, I’ll never know.  What I do know is he was a perfect gentleman!

I kept giving Jeff explanations of where to put his hands, legs, seat, and weight, but Jeff would overdo every action that I requested, leaning too much, striving too hard, making too drastic a change. 

“Jeff, get off that horse and let me show you something,” I said. “Now this is going to be very unconventional, but as you are so in tune with your body, I figure that this will be the most effective way to get my point across. Pop down on all fours, please!”

“Huh?”

“Yes, all fours, I am going to let you feel what Noah feels.” So Catherine held Noah, and Lauren, who was in the arena with me to keep Jeff safe, stepped aside.

Jeff was so tall on all fours, that when I straddled his back, I still had to stand on tip toes.  

“It’s really simple. A horse will move under your weight,” and I moved my hips, shoulders and head alternatively to the right then the left. “Feel that? Good. Which way are my hips turned now? My shoulders? My head?”

Jeff answered correctly every time.  

“Good. Now let me show you how to stop a horse with your seat alone,” and a squeezed my thighs tight.

“Whoa! For a little lady you are strong!!” he sputtered as I held his rib cage in a firm grip.

I popped off of him. “A horse is so sensitive that one rarely has to squeeze that hard. I just wanted to be clear about how effective you can be without the use of reins. Now get back on.”

And so he did. And in a matter of moments, his riding was transformed. He was both lighter and more effective with his seat. His heels went down. His leg fell into alignment with his upper body.

“You want to try trotting?”

“Sure!” and without further ado he nudged Noah into a trot. I held my breath and followed closely, expecting Noah to feel the unbalance and break into a canter. To my surprise, Noah trotted steadily and calmly, stepping beneath his cargo when Jeff teetered a bit.

“Try a circle.”

And they circled.

“Change direction. Rise up and down with every beat, that’s called posting.”

It was amazing to watch. Jeff was a brilliant natural athlete. But more startling still was Noah. He trotted around as if he were carrying the King of England.  Proud. His neck gently arched even on a light rein. His ears pricked. 

“That’ll do,” I called. “Go in and work with the girls to untack him and turn him out and after that come into my office and talk to me, please,” I told him.

About twenty minutes later he knocked on my door.

“So can I have him?”

“No.”

“NO! Why not? Didn’t I do ok? Do you think Noah didn’t like me?”

“You did fine and Noah loved you. I am truly surprised in both instances.”

“So?”

“You’ve jumped through my hoop and Noah’s too but you have two more hoops to clear successfully.”

“And those would be?”

“The first is I have to get the owner’s permission. Noah is extremely dear to her. She wants the very best for him. Because you convinced me to let you try, and because Noah accepted you, I am willing to approach her, but only under certain conditions.

“Which are?”

“1. You go back to Minnesota and ride five times a week, taking three lessons a week under the instructor that I approve of.

2. You read the books that I assign you.

3. You call me every Sunday to tell me what you have learned and how your lessons are going.”

“Done!” he said enthusiastically.

“And there’s another thing. You are too heavy. They say that a horse should only carry about 20% of its weight, so with tack your total weight should be around 220 pounds. Now there is leeway with that number depending on the amount of bone the horse has, the length of its back, the condition and fitness level its in, the athletic endeavor you chose to pursue, the age of the horse, and of course, its attitude and heart. Nevertheless, taking all those variables under consideration, you have to make a concerted effort to lose weight - 25 to 50 pounds.  Are you willing to do that too?”

“I will do whatever I have to do to get Noah,” Jeff said quietly.

“Even take up belly dancing?”

“Belly dancing?”

“You are incredibly stiff in your pelvis and hips. To be a good rider you need fluidity and range of motion in those areas.”

“Yeah…right.”

“It’s just a suggestion,” I said with a smile. “But seriously you need to do stretches. Maybe do some yoga. You are really tight in your lower back. Now, it’s July 9. Can you come back in about six weeks to show me what you have learned?

“Nick and Jessie are getting married in late August, so I’ll try to come before then.”

“Good,” I said, and on an impulse I added, “Here, take this shoe of Noah’s that I keep on my desk for inspiration. If and when it comes time for you to adopt Noah, you can give me the shoe back. If you aren’t able to adopt him, you get to keep the shoe.”

“You’ll get the shoe back,” he said with steely determination.

“We’ll see,” I answered, cocking my head to one side and evaluating him with narrowed eyes. “We will see. Remember you have two very tight hoops still to jump through. So…” I rummaged through the top drawer of my desk. “Here’s a four left clover for you. Good luck! You’ll need it.”

Cheery bye,

Susanna

Nowhere to Hide and Jeff

There is no better advertising than word of mouth. No better compliment than having a satisfied adopter come back for an additional horse or having a potential adopter come to the MMSC because they have heard good things about our horses, our ethos, and our adoption procedures.

Lauren and Louie

So I was really, pleased to hear that Lauren W. who had adopted a horse from us in early 2013-and a horse that had had many physical challenges to overcome to boot!—was so pleased with her “Louie” that she had told her boyfriend, Jeff, to come to us to find his “dream horse.”

To do what? I wondered.

“To be together, go on trail rides, maybe little shows, maybe not. Something quiet. Something easy. He has ridden Western maybe ten times, English maybe three.”

Ah yes! I had the perfect horse for him: Formaggio! A very solid citizen—a horse with the duty bound attitude of a US Marine. Big too, 16.3. Man sized. 

 A few weeks later, after Jeff’s application had arrived and been approved, I looked up from my desk where I was catching up on emails and saw a hulk of a man walking towards the arena.

“Catherine!” I called. “Who is that?”

She darted back out of the office and was back in a flash.

“That’s Jeff Tow-Arnett, Lauren’s boyfriend. Remember he and Lauren were coming in from Minnesota today to try horses?”

“But, but…he’s HUGE! I mean he looks like a pro linebacker! Thank goodness Formaggio is big!” 

Jeff

Shortly thereafter Jeff, and two other titans, one male, one female strode into the office. They looked like gods from Mount Olympus; all three were over six feet tall and tautly muscled; the men built like mighty burr oaks, the woman like a lofty willow.

I caught a glimpse of the nymphlike Lauren standing to one side. 

“Lauren!” I gave her a hug.  

“This is Jeff,” she said, “and his brother Nick, and Nick’s fiancée, Jessy.”

Jessie and Nick

“Welcome!” I said. “My goodness,” I couldn’t help myself from adding. “You two guys look like football players and you, you…”I looked at Jessie.

“We are football players,” said Jeff with a grin.

“And Jessy’s a professional volley ball player,” Nick offered.

Jessy was at least 6.2”, long limbs, long neck, long hair, long everywhere.  Both men had chests, arms, and quads like the granite boulders on the rocky coasts of Maine. Nick was taller with gentle brown eyes and military correct posture. Jeff, the more massive of two, had Samson-like curls grazing his broad shoulders and a winsome smile.

“Wow! That’s cool. So, Jeff, I hear you are looking for a quiet, dependable trail horse? Let’s go to the barn. I believe I have the perfect one for you!” His name is Formaggio.”

“What about Noah?” he fired back.

“Well he isn’t totally sound yet,” I said, brushing the question off.

That was the truth. But that wasn’t the full truth. Noah still was very volatile under saddle although he and his rider, Alicia, were making progress. A green rider would be totally wrong for Noah. Besides, I was a bit of a snob. A football player for MY NOAH???!!!

“Let’s just start with Formaggio, shall we?” I responded.

I sat on the bleachers watching Jeff ride. He was, as I suspected, as  green as grass. Bless dear Formaggio who carried him like the dutiful trooper he always was: Keen to follow directions. Careful of his cargo.

“Let’s tack up Noah for Lauren and send them both out on a little trail walk,” I told Catherine. “Do we have an intern who could go with them just in case Noah gets strong?”

As soon as they were ready and had exited the arena, I went over to talk to to Nick and Jessy.

“Who did you play for Nick?

“The Dallas Cowboys. The Seattle Seahawks. I also was in minicamp with 
the Minnesota Vikings one year and the Jacksonville Jaguars.”

“You done now?”

“Yup. I am going into sports fitness.”

“And Jeff? Who did he play for?

“Well, we both played for the University of Minnesota. Then he played for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Then arena football in 2011 and 2013 for the Milwaukee Mustangs, followed by Tampa Bay Storm last year.”

“Is he done with football?”

“I think so. I hope so. He’s had a lot injuries. But he’s really persistent.”

“And Jessy, tell me about you? Who have you played for?”


“I trained with the USA National Volleyball Team and played in the 2011 Pan American Cup where we won the Bronze medal. I have played professional volleyball for 4 seasons in Puerto Rico, one in Vienna, and then last season, as Nick, said, in Azerbaijan.”

About that time Jeff and Lauren were back from their trail walk.

“How was it?”  I asked. “What do think about Formaggio, Jeff?”

Jeff and Formaggio

Jeff was nice, polite, but not elated, which is the expression I like to see when an adopter tries a horse. “It was good. He was good. I like him. But I am just not in love with him.”

“Oh, that’s too bad because I don’t have another horse that would be right for you at this point.”

“He really had his heart set on Noah,” said Nick as Jeff and Lauren led their mounts back to the barn.

“Noah is not a good fit for him. He’s too green, and Noah is a die hard competitor.”

“I understand.  But he’s not going to take this well, “Nick said.

Not taking it well was an understatement. I was back at my desk when I saw Lauren and Jeff head for their truck. He looked like the darkest skies before Hurricane Katrina. His brow was furled. His ears were beet red.

“Are they leaving, Catherine?”

“Yes. They are headed back to Minnesota.”

“Ah, me. I guess I made someone mad. He didn’t even say goodbye."

“Yup. He was pretty upset.”

“He’ll find another horse. Maybe even another horse at the MMSC. But I doubt he will want to come back.  I was too blunt.”

But an hour later, he was back! 

“I would like to talk to Susanna,” he told our office manager, Lori.

“O000..kay,” Lori replied slowly.

“Do you want to talk with Jeff?” she said, sticking her head through my office door, eyebrows raised, her tone foreboding.

“Sure! Send him in!”

In an instant his massive frame filled the door. Then he dragged a chair up to the front of my desk, and sat down with heft on it. He fixed me in a cross fire gaze.

“How can I help you, Jeff?””

He launched his offensive:

“You see, Susanna, Lauren had told me that the MMSC was a great place to get a horse. So I went to your website, and I scrolled down the horses and once I read Noah’s blurb, the search was over. I watched his videos. I learned about his injuries and all that you were doing for them—acupuncture, Chinese herbs, chiropractic! I have had all those things done to me!  I, like Noah, have fractured bones! I have had competed hard like Noah. Then when I heard you say on the Horse Channel video that Noah had a heart of gold and would do anything to serve even if it caused him to die, I thought of what my offensive line coach from
my senior year at the University of Minnesota said to the Philadelphia Eagles Scout who wrote me off because I was too small: ‘If I had 11 Jeff Tow-Arnetts I could rule the world!’  I knew that if I was a horse, I would be Noah. And besides, my parents were supposed to name me Noah, but in the end they called me Jeff. But I always wanted to be called ‘Noah’.”

The more he talked, the faster his words came. He leaned forward. He clasped and unclasped his large mitt-like hands. I could fill the heat of his passion “tazing" me from across the desk. I found myself intrigued by his earnestness, his persistence, by the massive  weighty cross on his chest. WHAT PASSION!  Is this what it was like to face an opponent’s relentless touch down drive ?

“Noah is not totally sound yet, Jeff.”

“I can wait til he is.”

“He still very much in racetrack mental mode.

“Can I adopt him and pay someone to continue reschooling him?”

“It make take a while.”

“I can wait.”

“It might never happen. Noah is a confirmed competitor. And you are too inexperienced. I am afraid you or Noah might get hurt.”

“I can get better. I’ll take lessons every day until I do.”

“How much do you weigh?”

“275 pounds”

“That’s too heavy for Noah.”

“I can lose weight!!!”

I sat back and took a deep breath. My mind was clearly against it. What did my gut say?

“Susanna, how do you know for sure Jeff is the wrong fit?”

“Inexperience. Size. Noah’s horsenality,” my mind shouted back.

“Susanna, you say you are all about second chances. Are you truly?” my gut returned.

I sighed. 

“Jeff, you make a very passionate case for Noah. I have reasons for thinking that it is not a good idea. But I honor the fact that you didn’t just head back to Minnesota in anger. You didn’t give up. You decided to face me again and you have done so making a worthy case for your desire. I am a person who has dedicated herself to second chances. If I am a truly honest about that, then you have made me think I must not impose my opinions on you. Can you come back tomorrow?”

“We weren’t planning on staying,” he told me, inching to the edge of the seat, his  eyes hopeful.

“Well, that’s too bad because I believe we ought to let Noah have a say about whether he wants to be your special horse or not.”

“WE WILL STAY!” Jeff exclaimed.

“All right. Be here tomorrow morning and we will put you and Noah in the road pen together, at liberty and we will let Noah weigh in. What do you think?”

“I’ll be here!” said Jeff, ecstatically. “AND Thank you! THANK YOU!” he said enveloping  me in one of the most massive, memorable hugs I have ever received in my life.

Cheery bye, 

Susanna