Horses

One of my earliest memories involves a horse. I was small enough to stand on the white vinyl back seat of our dark turquoise Chevy Impala while Mom drove. At that time, Simi Valley was covered in walnut and orange groves with little houses, many of them mere shacks, scattered near the streets. Mom slowed down at a corner as we passed a shack with a corral in the yard. In the corral was an Appaloosa Horse. This was the first time that I saw an Appaloosa, it was white with black spots over its entire body. When I saw the horse, my whole body started trembling. I said to Mom: “My horse looks like that.” Mom was driving, not paying attention to the toddler in the back seat. She didn’t say anything. I was overwhelmed with a feeling that my toddler brain (and even my adult brain) can’t really name.

That experience, along with others, have made me wonder if reincarnation really is a thing? As a teenager, I researched Appaloosas and discovered that they were bred by the Nez Peirce. I wondered if it might have been a cellular memory, if maybe I was part Nez Peirce. I had my DNA analysis done a few years ago and the only Native American that came up is from the Jalisco region of Mexico. That makes perfect sense. My Mexican Great-Grandmother was born there. I also have a drop of the older Native American/Asian DNA that can’t really be classified by tribe or location.

I do believe that we have souls that do not die when our bodies die. It isn’t much of a stretch to conclude that if the soul doesn’t die with the body, then it probably existed before the body formed as well. It is a mystery, and I’ll leave it at that.

After that experience of seeing the Appaloosa, I longed for a horse. When I was about five years old, I attended a birthday party at a little farm that gave pony rides. There were more kids than ponies, so we had to take turns. The ponies trod around in a circle, in a round corral. I was in the first group of kids that got to ride, and my pony started bucking! I managed to stay on by grabbing the saddle horn. When my turn was up, I got off with all the other kids, but none of the kids in line wanted to ride my pony after seeing it buck. As a result, I got to ride it the entire time. It didn’t buck again. I was so happy! That is my earliest memory of riding a horse (pony).

My first year at Alleghany School (fourth grade), there was only one 6th grader: Rosie Walker for about half the year, who was replaced by Michelle (Gilbert) Criswell. Michelle’s family moved to Alleghany shortly after Rosie’s family moved away. One day, Rosie invited me to her house in Pike for an overnight stay. I was so excited because the Walkers had either two small horses or ponies (I’m not sure) and one Shetland pony! Her sister Marylin was in 2nd grade. When we got to their house we saddled up. I think Marylin rode the Shetland pony, but I don’t really remember now. They had extensive trails for riding and off we went. When we were out in the woods Marylin pulled out a pack of cigarettes! They wanted me to smoke with them. I wasn’t up for that and told them as much. I told them it was bad for them. I think I ruined their day; I was never invited back.

Before the following schoolyear was out, the Hall family moved to Goodyears Bar. Dena quickly made friends with Marcy Robinson who is the same age we are. Marcy had a Shetland Pony, but only lived in Goodyear’s part time. When she was there, usually in the summertime, she let Dena and I ride her pony.

There was a young couple in Goodyear’s Bar whose names escape me now. The wife had a horse that she kept in the white corral/barn across from the first stop sign as you come in across the bridge from Hwy 49. She was very kind and taught us how to ride. She let us ride her horse as often as we wanted to. That was when I finally got to really ride a horse. What a joy to gallop down the dirt roads!

To be continued.