talent06
08-14-2009, 07:07 PM
Ok, so as some of you know I'm running for a rodeo queen title. Part of the competition is writing and performing a speech on the pageant night. It has to be between 3-5 minutes in length, and should be something related to western, rodeo, horses, about our area, etc. I just wrote this one today. Im trying to do something a little different from the usual "i love horses because" or "how rodeo originated" speech. Get what I mean? So I would love some constructive criticism. I cant really add a whole lot more right now, because it is about 4 minutes and 30 seconds right now. But maybe I could take some stuff out and add some new. You tell me:)
My love of horses started in Seattle at the Woodland Park Zoo. For the first 3 years of my life I called Seattle home. Once a week my mom and I would go to the zoo and I would insist on the pony rides. Looking back, I really don’t see what appealed to me about doing monotonous circles around a track on a half asleep pony, but at the time it was the highlight of my week. I’m sure my parents were probably thinking that I was just going through the horse phase that most little girls go through and that with a few breyer horses and pony rides, it would appease and I would move onto a new phase of easy bake ovens and barbies. Unfortunately for them, the horse phase never ended.
Then we moved to Moses Lake where there were horses all over the place, not just at the zoo. I started preschool, and low and behold, my best friend had horses! As any horse crazy little girl would do, I promptly invited myself over to ride. From there the horse obsession just progressed with weekly rides at my friend’s house. My parents were probably still hoping and praying that the horse obsession would pass, but it didn’t. Through out preschool and elementary school I lived and breathed everything horses. I remember sitting in class one day and finding some gloves in the pocket of my jacket. The gloves still smelt like horses from the day or 2 before when I was riding, I sat there for the rest of class smelling my horse gloves. I also had my favorite horse sweater that I wore till I’d grown so much that the once full length sleeves were ¾ length. And then came the best day of my elementary school life.
For my 7th birthday, I got my first horse. Well technically, it was a lease, but to a 7 year old, lease and own really aren’t any different. Fletcher was a fat, short, morgan/welsh horse, who at the time I thought was huge, but looking back, he was probably only about 14 hands. Over the next few years, Fletcher and I had quite a few adventures-getting bucked off in the middle of no where; learning that feeding a fat horse a whole bucket of oats is not ok, even if he does like it; and winning my first grand champion trophy; All through this, my poor parents really didn’t know what they were doing, they aren’t horse people, but they definitely supported me in whatever direction I wanted to go.
At age 11, I had grown out of Fletcher ability wise. I wanted a bit more of a challenge. I convinced my parents that it was time for my own horse. Once again, they didn’t know what they were getting into, but I was pationate about it, I had proved to them that I was responsible enough for my own horse and that this was not just some passing phase. And that is when I got a horse that was officially mine.
I don’t come from a horse family, although it would be nice to have someone in my household that could understand the horse world jargon, I don’t. But that’s ok, in a way, I think it has made me a stronger and more responsible horse person. Since age 11 I have been fully responsible for my horses. Arranging farrier visits, vet appointments, getting hay, doing worming, etc. It never bothered me doing that, in fact, the more horse stuff I got to do, the happier I was. But looking back I can see that that was pretty impressive for an 11 year old. Its not that my parents didn’t want to help, they just didn’t know what to do. I remember last summer my mom and I had just finished a trail ride and I was untacking our 2 horses. My mom asked if she could help with anything, and I said “Sure, grab the halter out of the trailer”, she looked at me kind of funny and said “which ones the halter”, and I said “the one without the bit” and she says “whats the bit?...”. “Ummm, don’t worry about that mom, I’ll get it”.
Even though my parents don’t know the first thing about horses, I have been blessed with the fact that they are supportive of this very expensive and not so understandable obsession of mine. There are plenty of parents out there who would have bought me some “my little ponies”, horse pajamas, and a plastic barn set, and called it good. But mine didn’t, they trusted me in what I was doing and they supported me through it all. Yes, I will admit, that after a long show day it would be nice to sit in the truck with the air conditioning on full blast while my mom unsaddles and loads up my horse like some of the other kids moms do, but unfortunately, I’m not sure that she would know how to undo the latigo knot. But that’s ok, it’s making me self sufficient and in the long run, is better in my opinion. There are some perks to un horse educated parents. Such as after a really not so super show class, other kids might be hearing “well your horse was really strung out, and he lifted the pivoting hoof in the haunch turn, you should have sat deeper in the saddle, etc” my mom says comments like “you guys looked great out there, your shirt looks fabulous, you and Talent have been working so hard”, little does she know that Talent was on the wrong lead for 3 laps around the arena, I messed up my pattern, and we had a bit of a bucking incident. Sometimes “well, your boots are shiny” is really all you want to hear after a class like that.
So sometimes I wonder if not growing up on a farm has affected my horsemanship. Honestly, I don’t think it has. Do I wonder if I would be a better rider? Sure I wonder, but I don’t think I would. Do I think I would be more appreciative of my horse? No I don’t, you always appreciate what you have to work for much more than what is given to you. So thanks mom and dad, thanks for not knowing which end to put the wormer in, thanks for not knowing that there’s a difference between a lope and a gallop, and thanks for writing checks for things that you didn’t understand why I needed, like saddle pads. In the end, I think you are creating a more responsible and self sufficient horse woman.
My love of horses started in Seattle at the Woodland Park Zoo. For the first 3 years of my life I called Seattle home. Once a week my mom and I would go to the zoo and I would insist on the pony rides. Looking back, I really don’t see what appealed to me about doing monotonous circles around a track on a half asleep pony, but at the time it was the highlight of my week. I’m sure my parents were probably thinking that I was just going through the horse phase that most little girls go through and that with a few breyer horses and pony rides, it would appease and I would move onto a new phase of easy bake ovens and barbies. Unfortunately for them, the horse phase never ended.
Then we moved to Moses Lake where there were horses all over the place, not just at the zoo. I started preschool, and low and behold, my best friend had horses! As any horse crazy little girl would do, I promptly invited myself over to ride. From there the horse obsession just progressed with weekly rides at my friend’s house. My parents were probably still hoping and praying that the horse obsession would pass, but it didn’t. Through out preschool and elementary school I lived and breathed everything horses. I remember sitting in class one day and finding some gloves in the pocket of my jacket. The gloves still smelt like horses from the day or 2 before when I was riding, I sat there for the rest of class smelling my horse gloves. I also had my favorite horse sweater that I wore till I’d grown so much that the once full length sleeves were ¾ length. And then came the best day of my elementary school life.
For my 7th birthday, I got my first horse. Well technically, it was a lease, but to a 7 year old, lease and own really aren’t any different. Fletcher was a fat, short, morgan/welsh horse, who at the time I thought was huge, but looking back, he was probably only about 14 hands. Over the next few years, Fletcher and I had quite a few adventures-getting bucked off in the middle of no where; learning that feeding a fat horse a whole bucket of oats is not ok, even if he does like it; and winning my first grand champion trophy; All through this, my poor parents really didn’t know what they were doing, they aren’t horse people, but they definitely supported me in whatever direction I wanted to go.
At age 11, I had grown out of Fletcher ability wise. I wanted a bit more of a challenge. I convinced my parents that it was time for my own horse. Once again, they didn’t know what they were getting into, but I was pationate about it, I had proved to them that I was responsible enough for my own horse and that this was not just some passing phase. And that is when I got a horse that was officially mine.
I don’t come from a horse family, although it would be nice to have someone in my household that could understand the horse world jargon, I don’t. But that’s ok, in a way, I think it has made me a stronger and more responsible horse person. Since age 11 I have been fully responsible for my horses. Arranging farrier visits, vet appointments, getting hay, doing worming, etc. It never bothered me doing that, in fact, the more horse stuff I got to do, the happier I was. But looking back I can see that that was pretty impressive for an 11 year old. Its not that my parents didn’t want to help, they just didn’t know what to do. I remember last summer my mom and I had just finished a trail ride and I was untacking our 2 horses. My mom asked if she could help with anything, and I said “Sure, grab the halter out of the trailer”, she looked at me kind of funny and said “which ones the halter”, and I said “the one without the bit” and she says “whats the bit?...”. “Ummm, don’t worry about that mom, I’ll get it”.
Even though my parents don’t know the first thing about horses, I have been blessed with the fact that they are supportive of this very expensive and not so understandable obsession of mine. There are plenty of parents out there who would have bought me some “my little ponies”, horse pajamas, and a plastic barn set, and called it good. But mine didn’t, they trusted me in what I was doing and they supported me through it all. Yes, I will admit, that after a long show day it would be nice to sit in the truck with the air conditioning on full blast while my mom unsaddles and loads up my horse like some of the other kids moms do, but unfortunately, I’m not sure that she would know how to undo the latigo knot. But that’s ok, it’s making me self sufficient and in the long run, is better in my opinion. There are some perks to un horse educated parents. Such as after a really not so super show class, other kids might be hearing “well your horse was really strung out, and he lifted the pivoting hoof in the haunch turn, you should have sat deeper in the saddle, etc” my mom says comments like “you guys looked great out there, your shirt looks fabulous, you and Talent have been working so hard”, little does she know that Talent was on the wrong lead for 3 laps around the arena, I messed up my pattern, and we had a bit of a bucking incident. Sometimes “well, your boots are shiny” is really all you want to hear after a class like that.
So sometimes I wonder if not growing up on a farm has affected my horsemanship. Honestly, I don’t think it has. Do I wonder if I would be a better rider? Sure I wonder, but I don’t think I would. Do I think I would be more appreciative of my horse? No I don’t, you always appreciate what you have to work for much more than what is given to you. So thanks mom and dad, thanks for not knowing which end to put the wormer in, thanks for not knowing that there’s a difference between a lope and a gallop, and thanks for writing checks for things that you didn’t understand why I needed, like saddle pads. In the end, I think you are creating a more responsible and self sufficient horse woman.