Our trip to Ocala got even better for one 12-year-old girl when, as was last reported, Mom was struck by momentary insanity and decided it would be fun to rent a horse for the day and let the girl show. With no husband in sight, my financial sensibilities vanished. I was just about to write that our trainer Tara had suggested it, but that would be a bold-faced lie! It was my idea. And, obviously, I’ve already tried to convince myself otherwise.
When Tara first arrived in Ocala a few weeks earlier, she tried out several “rentals” for some of our other barn friends who went down to show for a week or two sans equine. I was not aware that such a thing could be done. After seeing Kika’s mount, Caviar, I could see the value of renting versus shipping your own horse to Florida from Vermont. I asked Tara if a day rental was an option, and she looked into it.
Rachel, another girl from our barn, was with us in Ocala without her mom, but I called her and convinced her that she should get in on the action too. So Tara took the girls to try out horses. Having gone a full three days without sitting on a horse, Samantha was suffering withdrawal. She tried out Viggo (show name Malibu Ken), Rachel tried out Linken (show name Tuchard). Both horses were a match. The deal was made. The paperwork filled out. Later that evening, I had to explain to the girl who Malibu Ken was. She did not know that Malibu Ken is Barbie’s handsome, yet perpetually intellectually challenged blonde surfer boyfriend. She cracked up.
We didn’t bring any show clothes or a helmet to Florida. It was a combination of generosity and inventiveness that allowed Samantha to show. Her outfit included a borrowed saddle, jacket, shirt, gloves and hand-me-down tall boots. She did have her own britches (hand-me-downs) and belt. Samantha squashed her head into Tara’s helmet, which was two sizes too small, just like the Grinch’s heart. She didn’t complain once.
By 7:15 a.m. Sunday morning the girls were on and warming up. There was a slight struggle between the girls and the barn’s full-time grooms. The language barrier didn’t help, but Rachel and Samantha are used to grooming and tacking up themselves. That’s just not the way it’s done where Viggo and Linkin come from. The girls didn’t understand why the grooms kept trying to take their horses away, and the grooms didn’t understand why the girls wouldn’t let them do their job. Rachel, usually painfully shy, threw a few elbows.
A junior rider from the barn laughed and said of our girls, “They’re so cute, trying to do everything themselves!” I had to explain to the girls that this was “transaction riding.” The horse would be handed to them already groomed and tacked up, and then they would return the beasts when they dismounted. They were not fans of this approach to equestrian sports. They wanted to take the horses for walks, feed them treats and brush their tails. No dice.






