I love my horse. There I said it. I LOVE MY HORSE.
I don't mind going out in the cold wet rain. I don't mind heading out in the heat, with the flies buzzing around and the sweat dripping off both he and I. I dont mind going out in the snow to feed him and clean frozen poop balls from his stall.  Why? Because I love him.

I have had Rhett(aka RockNMerle) for 7 years now. I bought him without meeting him or riding him. Never mind vetting him.
I saw some pictures of him on the Canter PA site. Dreamed about him and called his trainer the next day.
He is a retired Thoroughbred race horse. He had some other training before I bought him. He had been used as a "pony" horse for younger horses that were still racing. That alone says TONS about his personality. But I didnt know it, or care about it when I bought him, over the phone. I didnt try to haggle his trainer on his cost. $800 I didnt ask if he was sound. Or healthy. Or sane for that matter. All I knew is that I had dreamed of him. And he was mine. That was all that mattered. So I told her " I am sending the money tomorrow. Do not sell him to anyone else" And I did just that.

The month.. seemed like longer than that, that it took to get him from PA to MA was horrible for me. But some how I knew he knew I was waiting for him and he was going to be ok too. I remember walking into the pitiful barn the night he arrived. He had arrived earlier than I had been expecting. But it was dark out. It was February in New England. It was cold and dark out. There was little light in the barn. Same for the stall. But he was in there happily eating his hay. Like he had been there his entire life.

Now, for a race horse you would think . Yeah,, moving from barn to barn is normal for them." But not so for Rhett. He had raced primarily at one track his entire career. And had been in the same barn and stall. Off season he went to the farm. And was in the same barn and stall there as well. So a move to someplace new was not his "norm" But he was calm. I was calm. He was "home" He was with me. Where I knew he should be.

We have moved a few times since that first night. I have ridden him a handful of times. He is 16h. And I am well, short and older. I dont have that spring or bounce anymore. But it's ok with him. I brush him. I hang out with him. We talk. Well I talk. He listens. Then I listen.
He understands. No really. He UNDERSTANDS. I first discovered this when I was brushing him one afternoon and the light from the sun was leaving. I was in the process of picking his hooves clean and was on his right side.  We have no light in the stall(long story, day light savings time SUCKS)  I was talking to him and mentioned that I couldnt see his hooves on that side because of the lack of light.  Then he did an incredibly un Rhett thing. He snatched his hoof from my hand and stepped away from me. I scolded him and went to pick up his foot again. But he wouldnt let me hold it. So I stood up and looked at him. He looked back at me. Blew his nose out at me and took another step away from me. Then looked at me again. He had moved his body closer to the open part of the double door. Where there was still light filtering in. He had made it so that I could see what I was doing! I hadnt put a hand on him. Or asked him to move over. I had commented and HE MOVED!  Now, why this surprised me I dont know. He once took out a fence pole that was part of an old telephone pole(thick) instead of trampling me to get away from an attacking horse. Witnesses told me that they could "see" him think ""I can not hurt her"" Before he dove through the partially opened gate. He suffered a nasty bruise on his chest and shoulder. But I was unscathed. I just remember having him on the lead. Seeing the bay gelding coming at him with teeth bared. Thinking "Shit!" then Rhett standing next to me. Lead still in my hand. Him shaking and favoring his leg.  This was after the summer we spent hand walking around the stable yard because he was three legged lame from a bad trim on his feet that left an abscess the size of the Grand Canyon. We are soul mates.

Yes. Soul mates. And no. My husband does not mind that I feel this way about my horse.  There are different kinds of love. I love my husband. I love my daughter, just as intensely. But in a different love. This is the way I love my horse. I am lucky to have him. People say that you only get one "Once in a lifetime" horse. I have been blessed with not one, not two. But three. Although he is my first gelding.

There was Ida (Idaho Moonshadow) aka Tank. And Misty(Misty Morning)  My girls. My loves. My best friends. They passed over the rainbow bridge years ago. But that is how I think I found Rhett. You see. Ida was a mud brown App. Seriously. I used to call her Idaho Potato.  But she had this golden colored spot on her left rear haunch.
Misty was a gray and white pinto. But she had a brown splotch... on her left rear haunch. As I brushed Rhett's winter coat out that first spring, a golden spot appeared. On his left haunch. Add the freeze brand MS on his left rear. And yes. He was meant to be mine. That was just a sign. A sign that I should take a look at the 16h Gelding Chestnut Thoroughbred. Ex Racehorse, A sign that my girls had found there way back to me. And like they had so many times. He now listens to me. My best friend. My soul mate. My Rhett.