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Post by x.Whinny [Nay] on Apr 27, 2007 22:15:56 GMT 10
Please don’t just look at this and don’t bother reading it because it looks long, you have to read it, if you care and if you have a heart.
This is a legacy post, a post to my favourite mare. The gorgeous little buckskin mare I used to ride every week, the one they call Molly. The one that stole my heart away with her cheekiness, the one with the best jumping skill, the smoothest gaited horse I’ve ever ridden, the fattest one too.
Molly she came into this world with a reckless fire
And passion to teach children that they had to learn
To treat all animals with kindness,
Respect and dignity.
Standing only 15.1hands high Molly was gorgeous, with a long flowing black mane and tail, a shiny buckskin hide and a thing blaze running over her delicate face. Her round large belly and thick muscular neck set her apart from any other horse at my riding school. She had a fiery attitude and was highly intelligent and competitive. Many may think she was a rather annoying horse to ride, but they didn’t know her like I did. They didn’t understand her; it was only Robyn and I who did. Robyn is my horse riding teacher by the way. I always pictured Molly having this type of thought in her mind “I’m going to get over those jumps and win this competition with or without you on my back.”
So our journey began, with me and her, my amateur riding skills and her devilish ways. My first time jumping, ahh what an experience, fell off twice… you see, Molly was a ‘cat leaper’ yup. Even though the jump was only 30centimetres high she insisted on jumping one metre up in the air. This was ehh not the greatest experience of my life, I stopped riding her for a year or so and my riding capabilities grew. And she sat in the paddock being ridden once a week by my riding teacher. Every now and then she would be allowed to wander around in the front yard, you’d be standing around talking and feel the soft velvet touch of a horses muzzle and the gentle prickle of the whiskers, turn around and who was nuzzling up to you none other than molly. I spoiled her with treats, apples, carrots, a little bit of oats. Goodness knows why she was so fat; she loved to get her food. As I gained riding experience my friends dared me to ride her, it had always taken people a year riding her non-stop to figure out how to go with her over the jumps. But that all changed when I got on her for the second time.
The second time we were going grids, trot pole, bounce, bounce, one stride jump. Rather complicated, especially for a mare that doesn’t like bounce jumps and does anything to get out of them.
Sure it was a rough lesson but it was worth it, after her refusing and ducking out of it ten times Robyn could see she was going to do it again. So Robyn threatened her with the whip, (Of course she wasn’t actually going to hit her) so Molly took a flying leap over the jump. Only to end up snapping the pole in half, the blue and yellow pole that was once one and is now two is near her grave. Along with plenty of pictures, flowers and a tree planted specially for her.
Of course my horse riding teacher would quite often say to me “First time every time.” It took my three horse riding lessons to manage to make her get over the jump ‘first time every time.’ But we got it in the end; I only rode her six weeks. Now that doesn’t sound like a lot but it was enough to steal my heart away. Robyn used to always say, your as good as Lisa at riding her (Lisa had been riding her for almost two year and I’d only been riding her five weeks.)
Molly would always wait for me and whenever I came to the stables she would neigh happily for me.
She was the most gorgeous horse I knew and Robyn would say “You’ll win plenty of blue ribbons on her and possibly you’ll make it to states.”
I never got the chance to win a blue ribbon on Molly, I never even got the chance to take her to a show, to say good bye.
Now another chapter in the life of Molly, molly was pregnant before I started riding her. She was due to have a gorgeous little filly. We were all anticipating the birth of the new foal, she was 4months away but you can’t blame us for being exited, it’s not everyday that a new foal is born at the stables you ride at.
Then it happened, it all went down hill. Molly had been at the vet all week in critical care, she came back to the stables with half her mane shaved off, a big bald patch on her neck and needle holes all in her. I was worried sick what was happening to my baby girl! She stood in the stalls all day, not paying attention to anyone just moping around. She didn’t even come over when the girls offered her a carrot and this just made me worry even more. Everyone thought that I was wasting my time trying to get her to come over to me but as soon as I had a spare minute I walked over. Clicked my tongue and called her name, she turned her gorgeous head and walked over to me. Allowing me to pat her for only a few minutes, before I had to climb up onto Sam a chestnut thoroughbred.
A whole week passed before I was able to see her again, I rushed into the stables and Molly wasn’t there. I searched around in the paddock and she wasn’t there either. As how I had to start my riding lesson I climbed onto Sam once more and started warming him up my mind making up thoughts to ease my mind like that she was just hiding behind a tree or something, I had to force my mind to believe this before I cracked. Then I rode up to Robyn and asked…
“Robyn, where’s Molly” She looked at me and I saw tears pricking in her eyes, and I felt the hots tears pricking at my own eyes as well. I knew it had happened and Robyn replied in a hushed tone, I’d never heard her use that particular tone before.
“Molly passed away, Thursday, June the 8th, 4pm, she had a heart attack.”
I started crying bawling my eyes out, yet the lesson had to go on. I settled down a little and continued on with the lesson. Cantering, jumping and racing and all the time hot tears were streaming down my face. I was a mess, for weeks and weeks I cried. Yet it never seemed to cease, as I mourned and grieved for her.
Molly died at a young age of only 19years, I’m currently crying while I’m typing this. I was dreading riding her in cross country for I knew that she’d do anything to duck out at those jumps, but now I’d do anything to ride her again.
This is Molly’s legacy, my gorgeous baby that I didn’t know for very long, but if you’d met her, it didn’t take long for her to capture your heart.
Here’s a picture of the gorgeous baby, please don’t just ignore this, have a heart and care.
This is a legacy post, a post to my favourite mare. The gorgeous little buckskin mare I used to ride every week, the one they call Molly. The one that stole my heart away with her cheekiness, the one with the best jumping skill, the smoothest gaited horse I’ve ever ridden, the fattest one too.
Molly she came into this world with a reckless fire
And passion to teach children that they had to learn
To treat all animals with kindness,
Respect and dignity.
Standing only 15.1hands high Molly was gorgeous, with a long flowing black mane and tail, a shiny buckskin hide and a thing blaze running over her delicate face. Her round large belly and thick muscular neck set her apart from any other horse at my riding school. She had a fiery attitude and was highly intelligent and competitive. Many may think she was a rather annoying horse to ride, but they didn’t know her like I did. They didn’t understand her; it was only Robyn and I who did. Robyn is my horse riding teacher by the way. I always pictured Molly having this type of thought in her mind “I’m going to get over those jumps and win this competition with or without you on my back.”
So our journey began, with me and her, my amateur riding skills and her devilish ways. My first time jumping, ahh what an experience, fell off twice… you see, Molly was a ‘cat leaper’ yup. Even though the jump was only 30centimetres high she insisted on jumping one metre up in the air. This was ehh not the greatest experience of my life, I stopped riding her for a year or so and my riding capabilities grew. And she sat in the paddock being ridden once a week by my riding teacher. Every now and then she would be allowed to wander around in the front yard, you’d be standing around talking and feel the soft velvet touch of a horses muzzle and the gentle prickle of the whiskers, turn around and who was nuzzling up to you none other than molly. I spoiled her with treats, apples, carrots, a little bit of oats. Goodness knows why she was so fat; she loved to get her food. As I gained riding experience my friends dared me to ride her, it had always taken people a year riding her non-stop to figure out how to go with her over the jumps. But that all changed when I got on her for the second time.
The second time we were going grids, trot pole, bounce, bounce, one stride jump. Rather complicated, especially for a mare that doesn’t like bounce jumps and does anything to get out of them.
Sure it was a rough lesson but it was worth it, after her refusing and ducking out of it ten times Robyn could see she was going to do it again. So Robyn threatened her with the whip, (Of course she wasn’t actually going to hit her) so Molly took a flying leap over the jump. Only to end up snapping the pole in half, the blue and yellow pole that was once one and is now two is near her grave. Along with plenty of pictures, flowers and a tree planted specially for her.
Of course my horse riding teacher would quite often say to me “First time every time.” It took my three horse riding lessons to manage to make her get over the jump ‘first time every time.’ But we got it in the end; I only rode her six weeks. Now that doesn’t sound like a lot but it was enough to steal my heart away. Robyn used to always say, your as good as Lisa at riding her (Lisa had been riding her for almost two year and I’d only been riding her five weeks.)
Molly would always wait for me and whenever I came to the stables she would neigh happily for me.
She was the most gorgeous horse I knew and Robyn would say “You’ll win plenty of blue ribbons on her and possibly you’ll make it to states.”
I never got the chance to win a blue ribbon on Molly, I never even got the chance to take her to a show, to say good bye.
Now another chapter in the life of Molly, molly was pregnant before I started riding her. She was due to have a gorgeous little filly. We were all anticipating the birth of the new foal, she was 4months away but you can’t blame us for being exited, it’s not everyday that a new foal is born at the stables you ride at.
Then it happened, it all went down hill. Molly had been at the vet all week in critical care, she came back to the stables with half her mane shaved off, a big bald patch on her neck and needle holes all in her. I was worried sick what was happening to my baby girl! She stood in the stalls all day, not paying attention to anyone just moping around. She didn’t even come over when the girls offered her a carrot and this just made me worry even more. Everyone thought that I was wasting my time trying to get her to come over to me but as soon as I had a spare minute I walked over. Clicked my tongue and called her name, she turned her gorgeous head and walked over to me. Allowing me to pat her for only a few minutes, before I had to climb up onto Sam a chestnut thoroughbred.
A whole week passed before I was able to see her again, I rushed into the stables and Molly wasn’t there. I searched around in the paddock and she wasn’t there either. As how I had to start my riding lesson I climbed onto Sam once more and started warming him up my mind making up thoughts to ease my mind like that she was just hiding behind a tree or something, I had to force my mind to believe this before I cracked. Then I rode up to Robyn and asked…
“Robyn, where’s Molly” She looked at me and I saw tears pricking in her eyes, and I felt the hots tears pricking at my own eyes as well. I knew it had happened and Robyn replied in a hushed tone, I’d never heard her use that particular tone before.
“Molly passed away, Thursday, June the 8th, 4pm, she had a heart attack.”
I started crying bawling my eyes out, yet the lesson had to go on. I settled down a little and continued on with the lesson. Cantering, jumping and racing and all the time hot tears were streaming down my face. I was a mess, for weeks and weeks I cried. Yet it never seemed to cease, as I mourned and grieved for her.
Molly died at a young age of only 19years, I’m currently crying while I’m typing this. I was dreading riding her in cross country for I knew that she’d do anything to duck out at those jumps, but now I’d do anything to ride her again.
This is Molly’s legacy, my gorgeous baby that I didn’t know for very long, but if you’d met her, it didn’t take long for her to capture your heart.
Here’s a picture of the gorgeous baby, please don’t just ignore this, have a heart and care.