Finding Everest

Poplar is my Everest. I think about her, and how to develop our relationship, as well as her mind and body, near constantly. I don't bother to even think about the "ending", the summit, the release at the end of the rope, a trustworthy trail partner. All I think about is the climb, the exertion and willpower, which it will, definitively, take for me to unlock the potential of my chestnut Everest. I thought, when I purchased her, that our journey together would be like driving through a parking lot. That we would encounter only a few speed bums along the way, but easily cruse over them and around the deeper ruts which pocket the asphalt. I was wrong, and that's hard to swallow, but OK. I thought that her incredible brain (read: crafty) would make her easier, that her powerful will (read: stubborn) would make her a stronger partner from the very beginning, and that her strength and unflappable mindset (read: not afraid of you) would make her as efficient and easy as a Prius running in Eco mode. I was wrong, yet again. She is as mysterious as a wooded, smoky mountain, yet, she is my mountain. My little Kentucky Everest.  

The incredible athleticism, mental strength, and personality which this mare possesses are the deceptively hidden rewards of a journey which will require every minute portion of patience, knowledge, understanding, and persistence which I possess. She will be either become my harbinger or my dream maker, and the time and effort I put into her, will determine which part of the trail we walk upon most often, the ruts or the green. I simply can't devise how to express how much I like this horse, I would argue, that one day, she will be the one showing Oz how it is to be done.

The difficulty with this mare comes from her absolute lack of fear and complete confidence in herself, she essentially does not need nor desire "our" guidance. The best way I have come to understand her, is through the analogy of growing up. Usually, a horse would begin to see humans as herd leaders as foals, babies, they learn to give to pressure, to seek release, to find comfort in our presences. This way, when they are started as teenage colts and fillies, the feeling of release and "giving" to pressure is a natural process, a continuation of the handling which they have received all of their lives. They naturally see humans as dominant herd members who's attention and affections are of the highest importance. As (essentially) a range bred horse, Poplar comes from a different world entirely; she is the mid-twenties woman who has always danced to her own beat, she drives a hatchback, and has plans to solo hike the John Muir Trail before her 30th birthday. She does not need anyone, because she never learned to. If she does not want to do something, she does not do it, bottom line. She's stubborn, hard to convince, but craves engagement and stimulation. She's my Everest.

What fun.