Emerging Pro
His neck muscles flexed, his ears drilled forward as he surged forward through the line of 4 horses abreast in front of us. He powered through them, making a space where there was none. Pro never liked other horses in his way during an English Pleasure Class. We powered past the judge all by ourselves. I had nothing to do with this except to sit up tall and smile. I grinned. It was never hard for me to smile when I was riding Pro. He was all Arabian. He was all stallion. He demanded admiration from all.
It was the 1980’s when I moved to Western Pennsylvania to set up a training business after five years apprenticing with Dorita Konyot (Tina Konyot’s aunt). Ann Swinker and her Dad needed someone to train, show, and sell their young stock. Pro was their 6-yr-old home bred Desert Sands stallion that I could also show; to make a name for myself. Doc Swinker said he named him Pro because “when he was foaled he stood up right away just like a Pro.”. Pro had been showing his whole life. He knew he had all the answers. He certainly didn’t need me to tell him what to do. He had many championships under his belt already with his previous trainer. My goal was to keep on winning with Pro. At the very least, not embarrass myself.
Winter was indoor training time. I needed Pro to be my partner. He was fit. He was powerful. He was bull headed. He resented when I asked him to slow down. He resented when I asked him to stop. In fact, he resented me using any aids to influence him whatsoever. I hatched a plan to bring him onto my team. First I had to convince this force of nature to want to be on my team. I definitely did not want to spend my time yanking back on the reins to keep him from charging around on the forehand. I spent one whole month riding in the 30m x 55m indoor arena at Pro’s favorite speed, the mad gallop. People would stop and watch us screaming around the short side on “two wheels” then accelerating down the longer side. I did not touch the reins, I just rode it. Waiting. When he decided to slow down I would push him to keep cantering. When HE asked to stop we went one more time around the arena before walking. Everyday. For a month. One day Pro slowed down to my soft aids. Now I could rebalance him off the forehand. We actually started to have fun with our sessions.
Pro and I went in every class possible. Western pleasure, saddle seat, native costume, even halter classes. I was happiest when we showed dressage. We trail rode during a blizzard with the crazy ladies in the barn. We practiced trail obstacles. Cows appeared in a neighboring pasture overnight. His ears pricked forward. Pro surged forward, eager to “go see them”. I learned to be curious of the new, not fearful. During the long cold winter indoors we entertained each other by learning tricks like Spanish Walk. For fun.
Pro busting through that horse blockade showed me how to be brave. It was my turning point. We showed schooling shows, Arabian Regionals, and even the Arabian Nationals. Pro showed me how to be a good pro. Rain or shine, he was “all in” to whatever was on the schedule. I would be “all in” too.
Pro taught me how to win. He also taught me how to lose with dignity. When Pro and I qualified for the Arabian Nationals in dressage I arrived sleep deprived and stressed with self-imposed pressure to win. I was an absolute mess by my ride time. I carried the whip into the show arena and was eliminated. Not my finest hour. Pro performed like it was just another day and wondered “what the heck is your problem?”.
Pro made it up to 3rd level before he was sold. That broke my heart. I told myself that I was a pro; it was my job to train then sell them. My heart still aches.
This coming December I turn 70 years old. I am retired from competing and do not ride other people's horses. I am telling you about this nostalgic tale with a longing for what I had with Pro and with pride that I carried forward everything he taught me as an emerging pro: strength, grace and joy. Confronting life head on with no illusions.
Thank you Pro.