One of my favorite horses at the Loveland farm where I worked was called Flakey. We were pretty tight. I really loved the guy, now that I think about it. He was obsessive and nervous at times, but he tried so hard every single day, and I could relate, so I had an enormous soft spot for him. Now, Flakey was a lesson horse, but he'd travel to some smaller shows here and there, so every now and then he had his turn in the spotlight. Not sure that he cared about that or even liked it, but the look on his face told me he enjoyed showing off here and there.
All the kids thought he was just a rather cute white horse, not spectacular, but endearing. He got his fair share of apples and carrots. But when I washed him, I could see that underneath his white fur, his skin was multi-colored, which meant that technically, he was a Paint horse, and he had a free-spirited side to match his Paint lines.
Flakey worked his heart out for the kids; he was a superb lesson horse, but he also had his quirks, as all the horses did. So as the teacher, there were a few things about Flakey I had to remember (or else):
1. When presented with a new, strange jump, like a green rolltop or especially a jump with flowers, Flakey would freak out and jump straight up about four feet in the air to make sure he cleared it. The horse was terrified of flowers. So I never used these kinds of jumps with the kids, unless it was a whiney kid. Joking.
2. Flakey was kind of neurotic about change. Stick him in a lesson where everything just rolled along as usual, and he was awesome. Add a random raccoon or thunderstorm, and you might have a problem. So if I noticed some kind of weird happening, I made sure to have the kid dismount so as not to get flattened by a spooky horse. But I usually knew when he was going to spook. He'd do this little dance and give a warning, so it was all good. Flakey liked a lot of reassurance. It was this little game he played with me.
3. Flakey was incredibly protective of other horses.
I found out #3 by chance one day when I was teaching a lesson to three kids in the outdoor ring. It was a sunny, peaceful Saturday afternoon, and it was one of my last lessons for the day. The horses were all tired, and I was worn out too. Well, suddenly Flakey started to jump around a little. He was doing that "something's not normal" dance, and the kid on top of him was starting to get scared.
I looked around. Didn't see anything. There was no storm coming, no rabid dog in the ring, no crazy possum, nothing like that. I was baffled, but just to be safe, I told the kid to jump down from Flakey, because I knew something was a little off.
So she jumped down, but unfortunately, she also let go of the reins. The other horses, Buddy and Cliff, just stood there basking in the sun while Flakey suddenly turned into some kind of wild stallion, running across the ring, standing at the edge of the fence, raising his nose into the air, whinnying fiercely.
At that moment, a crazed filly came tearing across one of our fields, whinnying back. Now, this was strange as hell, because we didn't have any young horses at the farm, so it wasn't ours. Anyway, the little lady was running at full speed and Flakey jumped right on out of the ring, stopping her. Then he trotted circles around her, nuzzling her here and there, letting her know he was in charge.
The kid that had been riding Flakey shouted, "It's Flakey's baby!"
I started laughing, saying, "Yes, he found his baby." I didn't have the heart to tell her that Flakey was a boy, and he was a gelding, so there was no possible way it could be his baby, but I just let all the kids think that he had found his long lost baby.
I watched Flakey dance around, protecting that filly, and it was clear to me that his "Paint" side was coming out that day. He thought he was a wild west Paint stallion, protecting his young, and it reminded me that no amount of lessons for humans could take away his fierce wild soul.
It was beautiful to watch.
Anyway, eventually we figured out that the filly had gotten loose from a farm down the road, and we returned her to her owners. And of course, Flakey went back to work and finished the kid's lesson. But I could see a new spark in his eye as he cantered around the ring. It was as if he was saying, Hey, I am doing these lessons for you, but it's just because I like you all right, and the truth is, I could be free anytime I want to be. I am a Paint, and I am still free. Free.
Indeed. Free. I suppose we all are free if we want to be. I miss you, pal.
C.A. MacConnell
