I've loved horses ever since I was a kid. Michael and I both had riding lessons from the time we were old enough to sit in the saddle. We had a really great instructor who wasn't afraid of the challenge of teaching a blind boy to ride. Obviously, I'd never race or compete in equestrian events, but that's always been fine with me. I've always been happy with the things my horse and I can do together. I don't focus on the things we can't do.
Our riding instructor said that I should never ride alone. As smart as horses are, she said, they still need humans to guide them and tell them where to go. I guess she thought that because I can't see, I'd automatically get myself and my horse lost somewhere and that I'd be unable to figure out how to get us home. I always obeyed the 'no riding alone' edict when I was a kid, but now that I'm grown up, I'm less concerned with other people's rules. Don't get me wrong. I'm not dumb enough to think that I could never get lost, and I really have to pay attention to my surroundings when I'm riding by myself, but I don't think I need constant supervision. Besides, my former riding instructor didn't know Guardian. I think he's smarter than the average horse. Even if I'm a little off course sometimes, Guardian always seems to know exactly how to get us home. Michael jokingly refers to him as my 'guide horse'. I don't think my brother realizes just how true that is.
Guardian was my parents' present to me on my sixteenth birthday. Some kids get a car, but since I'll never be able to drive, I got a horse. Personally, I'd rather have a horse than a car anyway, even if I could drive. Cars don't love you the way horses do. My parents gave me something far more valuable than a means of transportation. They introduced me to an incredibly special companion.
Guardian is a rescue horse, although his story isn't nearly as tragic as one might expect. Although he did end up at a horse sanctuary, he'd never been abused or mistreated in any way by his previous owner. The lady who'd owned him before me loved him as much as I do, but she had to give him up because she got cancer and was too ill to ride him and look after him any more. She sent him to the horse sanctuary and asked them to find him a new home, and that's where my parents discovered him.
When my parents told me their plans for my birthday, I think I must've looked like I was going to pass out or something, because my mother demanded to know if I was okay, and my father said anxiously, "But we thought you wanted your own horse, Tyler."
"I do!" I said, and I think I was probably hyperventilating a little at that point. "It's just, like....awesome! You're actually buying me a horse for my birthday!"
"Well, your brother's getting a used car," my dad said. "We thought it was only fair."
It was better than fair in my opinion, but I didn't tell my father that I thought I was getting a better sixteenth birthday present than my twin brother. Horses cost more than used cars, and they have a lot more ongoing expenses too. I knew I'd have to pay for my horse's upkeep on my own eventually, but my parents were being more than generous at the time.
I had to meet Guardian before my parents made any kind of commitment to buy him. There was always the possibility that we wouldn't be compatible, after all. I could barely contain my excitement on the way to the sanctuary to meet him for the first time, and my mother kept pleading with me to calm down. Michael was making fun of me and saying that I was trembling so much that I'd probably fall out of the saddle and make an idiot of myself. Dad told Michael to stop picking on me, which only prompted Michael to tease me more. He can be such a jackass sometimes.
When we got to the horse sanctuary, I finally did calm down. There was this incredible peace about the place. Joelle, the lady who ran the sanctuary talked to us for a while and asked me a bunch of questions about how much experience I had with horses, how many years I'd been riding, and whether I could look after a horse of my own. She asked me what kind of horses I'd been working with at the riding school, and I said old and docile ones. That made her laugh. Guardian Angel was only four, she said, and definitely not docile. She described him as gentle and intelligent, but said that he had a lot of 'go' in him. My dad commented that Joelle's description of Guardian could very well be a description of me. That was pretty embarrassing, I have to say. 'Gentle and intelligent' is not a descriptive phrase that a teenaged guy really wants to hear his father apply to him.
Anyway, after our interview, Joelle took us out to the stable to see my horse. For some reason, I'd already started to think of him as mine, even though I had no idea if we'd even get along. Maybe it was intuition on my part.
From the first moment we met, Guardian and I connected. Even though I was a total stranger to him, he didn't seem nervous around me at all. He took the apple I offered him and made a lot of sloppy, crunchy noises while I listened with satisfaction. He let me touch him right away, and didn't seem to mind one bit when I ran my hands all over him. I asked Joelle what colour he was, and she said he was grey.
"He looks white to me," said my mother, who really doesn't know much about horses.
My dad, the horse guy, launched into some rambling lecture about how true white horses are rare, and how most horses that look white are actually grey, and that you can tell the difference between a grey horse and a true white one because greys have dark skin and eyes. I tuned most of that stuff out. Dad is pedantic and likes trivia. We've all learned to ignore him when he goes into lecture mode.
Joelle let me saddle Guardian by myself. I think she was curious to know how I'd manage it. I was used to having an audience at the riding school, so I didn't mind Joelle and my parents and Michael watching me get Guardian ready. That was the easy part. What I really wanted was for Joelle to lead us out to the paddock and for everyone to watch me actually riding. I wanted this lady to know that I had real horse skills and that I wasn't that pitiful blind kid who just sat in the saddle and let the horse - or the trainer, gods forbid - do all the work.
I think Guardian knew that I couldn't see him, just like some of the horses at the riding school knew, but Guardian didn't use the fact to his own advantage. He stood perfectly still while I saddled him. One of the school's horses had a nasty habit of moving away from me just at the point when I was about to place the saddle on her back. Somehow, I knew Guardian would never do that to me.
Our 'test ride' in the paddock was a huge success. Joelle led us around twice, and then I said I wanted Guardian and me to try making the circuit without her. My mother raised a mild protest at that, but Michael redeemed himself from his earlier ignominy by piping up with, "Don't be so uptight, Mum. He does it all the time on the track at the riding school."
Our first trip around the paddock without Joelle was at a sedate walking pace, with Michael calling out "Corner!" each time we got close to one. On our second trip around, I decided we should trot. Michael told me later that our mother looked like she was going to cry when she saw that. He said she looked totally panicked. Dad was pleased, though. Needless to say, he agreed that Guardian Angel was the horse for me.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Here's another photo of us. Sometimes I like to ride bareback. Don't tell my mother.
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