Hmph.

Well, I didn't make it out to the barn today. Between family, food, and errands I ended up whittling away the day until there wasn't a good chunk of time to spend at the barn (I usually need about three hours with getting to and from the barn, grooming, tacking up, etc).

I did, however, get a call AND an email from a woman who saw the ad for Henry online and is interested in buying him for her 13 year old daughter. Hmmm. This is tough for me because I have never been comfortable with the idea of "getting rid of" Henry. I posted the ad at the end of the summer because I was anticipating grad school in the fall, and could not reason my way out of the fact that I would be borrowing money for tuition, living expenses, AND horse stuff. Then, I was offered a full time job and decided to postpone grad school (possibly forever, if I decide that my path is in another direction) thus somewhat alleviating the money situation. Now, don't get me wrong, I am on a pretty tight budget, as many horse owners are. But it would take a very special situation for me to be comfortable selling my horse. I left the ad up just in case there was just such a person who ended up contacting me.

The first call I got, not even a full 24 hours after I posted the ad, was from a woman in Maine who was very aggressive. She asked a million questions, which was great, but there were a few that were a bit off. Then she asked what my address was. I wasn't quite sure how to respond, so I replied, "If you don't mind me asking, why do you need my address?" She wanted to know what address to give her shipper. To come pick up my horse. That she had decided to purchase without vet exam, without meeting or trying out. I refused the sale even though she was willing to pay the asking price.

I got several more calls and a couple of people in state who came to ride him. Nothing really panned out. I got a couple of emails over the fall, asking "Does ur horse jump??!?!?!?!! I m reeeeeeeeely interested!!! Call me!!!!!" Yeesh. I even tried him out on some cross-rails in the field at the barn, to see what he would do. He's not a jumper. And now, out of the blue, two people this week are interested. Well, it IS Black Friday, and I don't doubt he'd be adorable with a big red bow on him, but...

I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I mean, I could definitely benefit from having all that extra money lying around (no farrier, SmartPak, board, or vet bills? Hmm...), but then again, Henry is going really well. When would I get the chance to buy another horse? What could I ride in the meantime to keep up my riding skills? Would I ever get the same honesty, the same amount of heart, and that cute face at a bargain like what I got EVER again? I doubt it. I really don't want to end up like so many of the girls I grew up riding with, who slowly find new hobbies and "get rid of" their horses. I have spent four years and countless hours of frustration getting this horse to trust me, and he is giving me a lot in return. I will probably never be able to import a warmblood or feel okay taking out a $75,000 loan for a horse.

My sensible, practical boyfriend pointed out that if I'm going to sell my horse I can't be too picky and I can't be too attached to him. But my boyfriend rides mountain bikes, not horses. He can sell a car without feeling attached. He won't care if the person who buys one of his bike forks online wrecks it. I could never forgive myself if I let Henry fall into a situation where he got skinny, neglected, or recklessly injured. I know I could maintain a buyback clause or whatever, but there is a point that many folks make on some of the other blogs I read: The only way to make sure that your horse is taken care of the way you want is to keep him, and do it yourself.

I had a great show season with Henry this year, and when I bought him I was sure he would never make it past Training Level. Well, with scores in the high 60s and even two 70s this year at Training Level, and with a remarkable trainer leading the pair of us through shoulder-in, lengthenings, and counter canter, I can almost feel the heat of a black jacket and the tension of a warmup ring as we get ready for First Level this summer. The thought of someone buying this horse and getting tired of him or "growing out" of him or "moving up" to their next horse and leaving him in the dust makes me feel so empty. I may eat these words in a few years, when I win the New York State Lotto (Hey, you never know) and send Henry to a retirement farm in Florida, and buy a golden saddle and a diamond encrusted bridle for each of my new Grand Prix warmbloods... but for now I might have to be a Grinch and keep Henry under my own tree this year...