The Weather Outside is Delightful...

I hope you all had a good Christmas, I sure did. Mild weather and some great riding.


I'm working like a fiend at the paper, so I'll put up my Christmas column and get to the next post later in the week. I edited a little, I don't talk about Horsaii in my column, I just substituted "horse people." Most of the Fountain community already thinks I'm a little off...


All I want for Christmas….
By Janet Huntington


The best Christmas I ever had was the year I didn’t get any presents. I had gotten my first horse, Mort, the summer before with the understanding he was also my Christmas present. Come Christmas morning I could barely wait for everybody else to open their stuff. The second I could get away with it I jammed on my boots and took off down the street to visit my horse. I was in heaven.

I am Horsaii. I know, I know, many people say they’re Horsaii.

What does it really mean? Is it someone who grew up on a ranch working cattle on horses they raised themselves? Is it the show mom who hauls her kid from one event to the other doing everything in her power to get that one last point needed for the finals? Is it the kid at the local gymkhana racing her horse full out around the last barrel?

Maybe. Personally I have always felt Horsaii are born with a horse gene, it is often hooked to the kinda spacey, arty gene. History doesn’t seem to matter, horse crazy just shows up.

All I know is when I was a little suburban kid being hauled around in the Vista Cruiser with my brothers and sisters I spent every moment looking out the window to catch a glimpse of a horse.
As a young teen I willingly gave up ever owning an album (yes, I’m that old) a radio, going to a concert, or any of the various typical teenage things in order to pay for my horse.

I rarely thought about clothes, other than my Levi’s, dates or cars. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to look good in those Levi’s and I was very aware of the cowboys, but nothing came between me and my horses, except the Levi's.

I left my first serious relationship because of two fatal statements the poor guy made.
The first was, “You can’t train horses for a living, you’ll never ride as good as my sister,” and the second, “We can sell your horses for a down payment on a house.”

I don’t think I ever pointed out the error of his ways either, I just left.

My horses have affected most aspects of my life, from career choices to the kind of car I drive (that would be old, rusty and paid for).

I am willing to eat Raman at lunch, never go out to dinner, movies or bars, I don’t even have cable. I haven’t taken a vacation in years. None of it matters and I don’t feel poor, because I have horses.

I can walk into a sleepy barn or bury my hands in a shaggy mane and I will feel better, no matter what has happened in my life. My horses give me security, comfort and strength. They fire my imagination and add fuel to my art and my writing.

Being a trainer helped me establish boundaries and expectations with my family and myself. I learned to be patient, I learned to think before I act, I learned to be kind when I didn’t want to be, but knew it was for the best.

I learned to be hard when I had to and developed a strong sense of fairness. Horses made me strong.

So I guess that’s why this suburban girl thinks she’s Horsaii. I can connect and understand with just about every other Horsaii I meet, no matter what walk of life they come from.

Horsaii don’t have to own a horse. They may have never ridden a horse or even patted one.
But the unexpected catch in your throat when you see a horse race through a field, or the fact that the only reason you’ll suffer through a parade is to watch the horses go by and fill your head with their delicious scent is proof you’re Horsaii.

When you get a glimpse into the kind depths of their dark eyes, feel their silken neck under your hand and your heart aches just a little, you know you’re Horsaii.

So when I was asked what I wanted for Christmas I had to think. My family is a good one and I’m glad to be related to all of them. My horses are healthy and right up the street if I need a quick pat in the middle of a hard day. I can ride with many of the wonderful horse people I have met over the years and still have a blast. I can still experience the thrill of learning something new as I wrestle with a lariat and try not to rope my own head.

I guess I’m in pretty good shape for the holidays. Merry Christmas to all you Horsaii. I wish you a pat, a glimpse or a good ride on a pretty horse for your Christmas present. I know it’s what I want. Yip!