We’ve been through a lot together, you and I. I want you to know that I know that. That said…I hope you’ll forgive me for keeping a huge secret from you. See…
We’re getting a horse. A freaking horse.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “what the hell happened to ‘one new species a year’?! Cuz this makes three.”. You’re thinking, “horses are expensive!”. You’re thinking, “don’t you have enough going on with the turkeys, and hatching, and goats, oh my?!”. You’re right, you’re right; I know you’re right. But…hear me out.
The fence had to go up, in any event, for Billie, the turkeys, the chickens, and the goats. No extra work or expense, there. We have the space in the barn going wanting, and are clearing and cleaning the barn for the turkeys and the goats, in any event. We have the pasture, more than enough for all the animals to share.
We have Chicken Debbie just down the road (I mean it; I could yell for her, practically), who also happens to be Horse Debbie, having owned horses all her life. She currently has four, one of which she raised from its birth. We have another close friend who is an experienced horse woman, and we have the 40 years of expertise of The Man’s aunt. Said aunt is hooking us up with tack galore.
And then there’s this: The Man has wanted a horse for years. Years and years. When a friend told us of a horse in need of a new home, and the timing was just right, and everything we’d need was going to be in place for our other plans…The Man and I sat down and gave it very serious thought.
I’m not going to lie: I was the one who needed convincing. I wasn’t sure we had it in us. Then I saw him.
He is stunning, and completely stole my heart. Please believe me when I tell you this photo does not do him justice:
I promise better pics when he lands here on Friday. He’s a 5-year-old, black and white gelding paint, a little more than 15 hands, and he is a doll. And if that weren’t enough…he is du a gwyn. He was previously owned by a family with two teenage daughters, and they decided they don’t want to ride anymore.
Believe it or not, he comes to us without a name. We’d have likely renamed him anyway, but…weird, non? So, The Man and I threw names around for a few days. There weren’t many that we both liked, and it’s not enough for me for a name to be cool; I also wanted it to be meaningful, and with a certain degree of individuality and gravitas.
Then, in a moment of inspiration, I found it.
In honour of my father, who is a remarkable man, with a remarkable life and an indefatigable spirit, who served in the British Army in the medical corps in World War II when he was just a kid, we have named our newest family member…Sergeant Major. For my daddy.
So, why all the secrecy? We wanted it to be a complete surprise for The Stepdaughters. They have both taken riding lessons (The Younger more passionately than The Elder), and have been told, repeatedly, and as recently as last week, that a horse, were there ever to be one, would be years off. They freaked. OUT.
The timing was right, too, as it was this time last year when The Man and I pulled another big surprise for The Stepdaughters (and everyone else)…we were stealth married on March 20. What better time than our first anniversary to surprise them again?
What? The first wedding anniversary isn’t the horse anniversary?!