This was an artilce I wrote recently for www.grassrootsgazette.ie and I wanted to share it here too as a blog, in case it helps anyone going through something similar

It was nearly 24 years ago that my dad decided to bring me for horse riding lessons. His dad had been a cutter who made hunting jackets and riding gear for people. From casual hunters, all the way up to international show jumpers (if you are of vintage to remember Hawkins on cavendish row, that was my grandad). So my dad wanted us to have some connection to horses (something I’d say he fully regrets at times).

Every Sunday we would make the hour-long drive to Brittas to do our weekly lesson. I loved it so much that I insisted my younger sister start too. We would go rain or shine, winter or summer getting up so early on a Sunday was a chore at the time but always worth it. (shout out to Steel my first true love).

Through the years we went to other schools as Brittas closed and eventually after 10 years of lessons, and lots of whining, my dad agreed to get us a pony. Enter Sam. The bain of my existence and my best friend. I learned quickly that there was so much more to horses because of him. I also fell off a lot more. 

Over the years he’s been the one constant thing in my life, He’s outlasted friendships, and relationships, we’ve competed together, and we’ve argued. I had him from 5th year in school, all the way through college and when I started working full-time. If I was going through a rough time I could go up to the yard and spend time with my grump.

He’s kept us on our toes too over the years. He is an escape artist and had broken out of many stables. Some yards found that funnier than others. He is simultaneously the fasted and slowest animal alive. 90 per cent of the time he wouldn’t move but then every so often you’d be flying down an arena or field holding on for dear life and praying he didn’t put his head between his legs. 

We still have him nearly 15 years later. I probably could’ve changed horses and moved up a level but he did everything I wanted. It might have been a battle half the time but he would do it

 I knew this day would come. I knew there would be a time when he would retire but I didn’t know it would happen so soon, after all, he was fine a few days before, and nothing bad actually happened to him. He didn’t have a fall while jumping, or an accident in the field... He just ran off bucking and farting as horses do and boom… tendon injury. And a bad one at that.

We don’t know for sure if he is fully finished, but it will be a least a year before we know if he can come back to work at all. He’ll be 25 then, and one thing is for sure, his competing days are over. 2023 was the year I was finally going to get back to show jumping. 

For me, this leaves me feeling a bit lost, am I still a horse girl? Yes, I have a horse, but I’ve not ridden in nearly 4 months. I go up to visit him in his paddock and give him a carrot and go home again. I would love to get riding again but currently, I am not in a position to get a new horse. This is what makes it even tougher, I always knew Sam would be my only horse. 

I feel like I’ve lost a part of my identity. My business is based on training for horse riders, but I technically don’t horse ride so how can I help them? There feels like there is a massive hole in my life right now. Yes I still see him several times a week, but there is only so long you can stand looking at him in a field (he loses interest in you once his carrot is gone) 

I feel like I’m in mourning for a part of me that I wasn’t prepared to let go. It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. He’s always been a  sturdy little cob and was barely even lame in the time we had him. I know that I am very lucky to be able to say that but it honestly still sucks.

I also still worry about him. Will he recover? Is he ok out in the field? Will he get too cold? Or what if he hurts himself again? These things I used never think about when he lived out but now I can’t get them out of my head, especially on days that I don’t see him.

I just want him to be better.  Even if that means he’s going into retirement to live his best life of spending his days grazing a field (he will be the happiest pony ever). 

Thankfully since he’s been turned out he seems to have improved, but there was a time when he first hurt himself that even the vets were unsure if he could and we were worried that we may have had to make a very tough decision… one I can’t bare the thought of.

For now, though all we can do is wait. He seems happy right now and that’s all that matters.