Galloping Over Rainbows

Well, I don't know about you, but right about now I'm wondering if the writer of all this endless nonsense is going anywhere with it... or is she simply insane?

A little of both I guess... to be revealed in depth at a later date.

The winged beauty above is my childhood "unicorn"... yeah, I know he's Pegasus, but I never cared much for the golden horn type. 
Riding a unicorn always seemed akin to running with scissors to me... but that's just me... I'll take the downy feather pillow wings please. 

I rode him (along with my real-life ponies) until I was about 7 or 8 years old; galloping over rainbows bareback with the wind in my hair... life was good.  

However, when my indulgent Dad decided that 4 ponies was just 3 too many for a kid my age to own (we were a horsey family), he gave his spoiled "daddy's girl" the options of either culling my herd by my own choice, or having him do it for me.

Let me tell ya, it's TOUGH to thin the herd when you're a little kid... all them friggin' unicorns and flying horses are so special.
They eat rays of sunshine and crap butterflies; you become so intoxicated with their awesomeness that you become not only blind to their flaws, but also to their deliberate misdeeds.  
But I sure didn't want Dad making the pick. 
I knew he'd just keep the biggest one automatically so I wouldn't outgrow it too quick.

That was my first *hard lesson* in horses, and my Dad helped me make a list of pros and cons of each pony to help me decide...
Hell, I loved 'em all.

Ultimately I made the correct decision, and I kept Molly until she died of old age well into her 30's.

I know it sounds heartbreaking to force a youngster to make such hard choices, but I know now that I was being groomed for my future as a professional horseman, and this lesson in "you can't keep them all" was just the beginning of my education. 

As a reward for keeping my sobbing and mournful looks to a minimum, I was mounted on my new HORSE within 2 weeks... a retired racer from our stable at the track that was to be retrained for my budding show jumping hobby.
Woo Hoo!
This thinking with your head instead of your heart might be a really good thing!
3 shaggy ponies (one with an attitude), for a fine Thoroughbred jumper... whatta deal!

I enjoyed that horse until my riding surpassed his ability 2 years later, and another upgrade was needed if I was to continue improving my skills.  When that time came, the decision making was a little easier than it had been the first time around.

And it got easier... by the time I was 12 years old, I had owned 7 personal horses and ponies, and craved to ride horses that were ever more challenging.
I didn't care what discipline, I'd give it a try.
I rode anything and everything... if you could get a saddle on it, I'd try to ride it... and it seemed that any horse I got on rose to the occaision and usually put forth a good effort even if I was unsure of what I was doing.

I rode my horses down to the neighbor's farm so I could ride HIS horses... (this was back in the days when nobody sued anybody for anything, so there were no "liability issues" to consider).

How does this drivel relate to unicorn loving and such?
Well, as I write it down, it seems that when I was 8 or 10 years old, I was in the same place horse-wise as many of today's middle-aged riders who never had the opportunity to own a pony of their own when they were young... perhaps even beyond where they are now.

As a trainer of trail and pleasure horses (retired now), I worked with many middle-aged ladies who clung to the unicorn dreams and refused to view their horses realistically... and at the time, it annoyed me to no end... but now I see a pattern developing, and it's based upon sheer practical and common sense experience in direct conflict with the dreams of little girls.

The question is: WHY are these otherwise intelligent and sane women so unrealistic and idiotic when it comes to their unicorns?    

I've got kind of a sad story about that, but I'll save it for my next post.