My Lucky Bay

I’ve always wanted a bay horse, but the Universe saw fit to teach me the insignificance of color first. When asked, almost 20 years ago, what I wanted in my first pony, I made one request: no chestnuts. My first four horses were chestnuts, and I dearly loved every single one of them. Thus, when I first met Finn, his color was the last thing on my mind.

Here’s what was on my mind: he was an unstarted four-year-old, and I’ve long been a believer in starting horses later than our industry standard. He had received quality barefoot hoof care all his life and was sporting a set of near-perfect feet, a major boon for someone who dreams in particular of competing a barefoot horse. He was an over-grown German Riding Pony boasting the build and movement of a warmblood in the size of a small horse, and I lack desire to ride anything taller than 16 hands. Basically, he was every unconventional thing I wanted wrapped up in one package. I deliberated very briefly before concluding I couldn’t let him go.

It was only later, perhaps when Spring rolled around and I watched him shed out for the first time, I realized one more way he was my dream come true. To this day I still touch his coat with awe, and feel a bit giddy as my eyes slide over his mahogany gleam. It’s true what they say: a good horse is never a bad color, but I still love owning that bay horse I’ve always dreamed of.

 

You can see why, when I look back to the day Finn came into my life, I consider it a lucky one. It feels like he was custom-made for me, in the ways I knew when I found him and in many ways I didn’t. I chose the name of this blog, though, to cheekily remind myself my luck didn’t stop there. Every day I share with my beloved, bay boy -- whether riding one of Northern Nevada’s glorious trails, or just stopping by with his supplements and a scratch -- is my lucky day. There’s the basic fact that I’m fortunate enough to have him; everything beyond that is a bonus.