Horse Girls

The other day my library posted on social media that it was national I Love Horses Day on July 15. They asked people to weigh in on their favorite horse books or movies. Boy, did I have a bunch to share!

I grew up with horses. I admit, it sounds pretty hoity-toity to say something like that, but I didn’t know it at the time. All I knew was that my mom loved horses; she had tons of horse books and even did pretty drawings of them in a sketchbook we had laying around. At some point when I was young, we got our very own horse, a stunning chestnut Thoroughbred gelding named Montague’s Squire, or Monte for short. We boarded him at a nearby stable until we moved to St. Charles, Illinois, which was horse country at the time.

Let me set the stage: It’s the late 80s; the economy is booming. My machinist father and nurse mother wanted to move us to a less-crowded town where they could keep Monte. We viewed a few properties in Wayne, Illinois, a very prestigious little town (more on that later), and realized it would make more sense to buy land a little further west and build a house.

Fast-forward to my brother and me sleeping on slabs of drywall to the sound of my mother and father hammering. They literally built the house with their own hands. And then they built the barn. For the record, several of my school friends also had machinist dads who moved them to unincorporated St. Charles for the good schools and wide open spaces. That tells you something about the times back then!

I never learned how to ride. One time back in the stable where we boarded Monte, my mom put me on him and he bolted, and I fell off. I was fine, but I didn’t have much interest after that. But I loved him. I loved watching his tail swish as he grazed. I loved petting the coarse, yet silky short hairs on his muzzle, the white star between his eyes that was shaped like South America. He’d let me pat his broad neck and tell him what a good boy he was. I’d climb between the slats of the pasture fence and chase him, my arms held wide, huffing a loud, “Ha!” and he’d set off at a gallop around and around, his tail streaming behind him. He liked the exercise. We were friends.

Naturally, being the little reader I was, I read alllll the horse books. I probably started with Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry, which my mother had read as a child, too. It’s a 1947 children’s novel about real wild ponies who live on an island off the eastern shores of northern Virginia. Every year, the town rounds up the wild ponies and swims  them across a channel, resulting in an auction to raise funds for the local fire department. It’s a more humane form of herd control. Anyway, in the book two local kids decide they want to buy a pony, they work hard to get one, and they name her Misty.

Remember I mentioned Wayne, Illinois? Many people around here don’t realize that Marguerite Henry actually lived in Wayne, and Misty was a real pony! In fact, Henry brought Misty to live with her in Wayne, and there’s a field named in her honor! The local connection delights me.

When I was maybe five years old, we even visited Chincoteague Island as a family. I don’t remember almost anything, but I believe it made an indelible impression. When our two daughters were little, I read them the Misty series, and they were obsessed, too.

Other books I remember reading were My Friend Flicka by Mary O’Hara in about third grade, and around that time, a Scholastic book called Somebody’s Horse by Dorothy Nafus Morrison. Of course, I read Black Beauty, Black Stallion, all the classics.

Then there are the films. If you asked the kids what are my favorite genres of movies, they are likely to reply with an eye roll that if it’s old, British, about a horse—or all three at once—they’ve been made to watch it. And they’re right! Though I also like musicals, cartoons about cats set in Paris, and time travel romances. But that’s for another post.

We have watched every horse movie possible! I started with National Velvet, just as my mom must’ve with us. If you want to see some gorgeous scenery, charming young versions of Elizabeth Taylor and Mickey Rooney, and like an underdog story, it’s for you. Another excellent watch is Seabiscuit. Horse movies tend to have a feel good vibe.

Secretariat is a major one, too. My mom just adored Secretariat, the Triple Crown winner. We kept our photo albums in our china cabinet’s bottom drawer, and I remember looking at grainy photos of when my parents, newly married, visited him on a farm in Lexington, Kentucky in the early 1980s. That’s where my mother got the idea to plant Kentucky bluegrass for the lawns of the house they built.

Now my parents and brother have moved close to Kentucky, so naturally we’ve been to Churchill Downs, the home of the Kentucky Derby. Just last year we took the kids to Lexington, where some of the best thoroughbred racing horses in the world call home. My mother and brother came with, and the six of us toured the Kentucky Horse Park, which was really nice to do together. After my mom and brother went home, Anthony, the kids, and I drove around the Old Frankfort Pike, finding the Secretariat statue. In the hotel that night, we watched the movie Dream Horse together.

My mom still has horses. After Monte passed away, she got a dark Quarter Horse mare named Sara. She also got a pony named Mercedes, who’s a little troublemaker, but a devoted companion first to Monte, then Sara, and now Zaro, a rescue Rocky Mountain horse. The kids love visiting Granny and the horses. They’ve both taken horseback riding lessons, but, like their mom, they seemed to have moved on, at least for the time being. Our youngest loves playing with horse figurines, though.

Our girls may not get to stare dreamily across their yard at a couple docile steeds standing tall against a bright green field, but they get the chance at their grandparents’ place here and there, and that’s pretty fantastic. Otherwise, we have books and movies and more horse adventures to look forward to—some just on the horizon.

I’ve never thought of myself as a “horse girl”—not like some girls I knew in high school who spend their every waking moment riding horses. But I guess I am, in my own way. I came from one, am one, and my girls are, too. I feel a sense of awe for these majestic, powerful creatures which live alongside us and have been integral to human history. They exude a gentle, trusting, steadfast nature that reminds us how much beauty there is in the world.