I first met Max when he was at a small horse rescue called Hope for Horses, nestled in the middle of the astounding Leicester mountains. My family and I had just sponsored a horse named Zorro, who was a small, decrepit-looking pony with gorgeous blue eyes. He had black spots adorning a white, bony body, and a slightly matted mane and tail. I was very excited to meet the fellow, and upon meeting him I realized how much I'd underestimated his size. He was most definitely a pony, and I, being a tall, somewhat gangly preteen, was used to riding horses more suited to my size.
I distinctly remember my Mother, Grandmother, and I meeting a woman named Whitney (who, if you'll continue reading, will be instrumental in our story). Whitney owned Hope for Horses, and she was small, a lot like Zorro. Standing at perhaps 5'4, Whitney was a kind, determined woman who had stunning eyes accompanied by a loose, brown ponytail sitting high on her head. I probably looked hideously stereotypical to her in my raspberry purple jeans and acid-washed denim jacket. I hardly seemed suited to horses. But, all appearances aside, Whitney greeted us with an exuberant joy that conveyed her relief for Zorro's sponsorship. She first showed us their two miniature horses, then drove us down to Zorro's pasture alongside a pair of large, fluffy German Shepherds. Zorro seemed a little antisocial when we met him, and I can certainly say that I was a bit let down when I saw that I had no future as his owner- not because of his personality, but because of his size. This, unfortunately, brings to light an embarrassing memory- Whitney told me that I was too tall to ride him, and I responded with a sarcastic "well, duh." For a long time after that I was afraid that she thought I was a brat.
After I'd been allowed to lightly groom Zorro, Whitney showed us to the large green round pen. Inside was a tall, chestnut-colored horse called J.D. Yet another short woman was with the J.D., looking intently at him. Whitney explained to us that this was DeeDee Kelly, the trainer at Hope for Horses. We watched rapt attention- this Kelly woman was really doing some crazy stuff with the horse. I unfortunately can't remember my initial thoughts, just observing that she could seemingly get a horse to canter, trot, walk, and stop just by looking at him. My mother was transfixed.
The details of these first few months have certainly become blurred in my head, as well as in the heads of those around me. However, I do recall that one of the times we went out, I believe with a girl named Claire whom I had ridden with and my friend Abbey, we saw Max. Now, I vaguely remember seeing Max in a pasture, and, according to Dee, I inquired about him. But this moment with Max is one that stood out to me.
Those previously mentioned and myself had all gone out to Hope for Horses, either to see Zorro, watch Dee, or both. Now, had I gone back in time to re-watch this event, I would have told you that in the round pen stood the most gorgeous horse I had ever seen. But, because I didn't know the horse in the round pen at the time, I would have told you "yeah, there's a brown horse in there." As my clique and I sat down on the sloping ground to watch Dee train Max, I recall absentmindedly picking grass and sweating- and also being thirsty. I do not get interested very easily. Of course, what Dee did was astounding, but all I could think of was the grass. We drank Gatorade and watched Dee train. That was about it. While onlookers gathered around to watch Dee work her magic, I stared at the ground. When the session had finally come to a close and everyone had asked their questions, Claire talked about how beautiful Max was. "Yeah," I agreed. That was essentially how the day went.
The next day (there is some dispute about the exact time), my Mother asked me if I would like to work with Max and Dee to learn how to train a horse. Being a thirteen year old girl who was desperate to have a horse of her own, I agreed. Also, I wanted to rub it in Claire's face. So, a deal was made. If, at the end of a year, I was able to train Max and prove my worth, I would get to keep him as my (using a preferred term), associate. He would be moved to the Biltmore Equestrian Center (where I rode), and would be placed in our care. To complete the deal, I would have to go out to Hope for Horses once a week to spend a couple of hours working with Dee and learning the ropes. Little did I know, however, how much I had to learn.
