Introducing: The Goose Himself

Story time.

I was eight when I started riding horses, but I was keen on the big beasts long before that. Like any typical horse-crazed girl, I spent hours poring over any horse-related book I could find in my elementary school’s library, and once I was older, perusing DreamHorse for, well, my dream horse.

Dream horse

My list of must-haves went something like this:

1. Unicorn, or at least dapple grey
2. Enjoys majestic gallops through a field, preferably bareback
3. Jumps 10 feet
4. Knows lots of tricks
5. Friendliest horse in the world

My little self.

When I was a kid, I had no idea how awful it is to keep a grey horse clean, and how many other qualities are SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than buying a horse because of his color. Apparently my childhood self knew better, because when I was 20, I bought a horse because he was adorable and a deep, dapple grey. This horse turned out to meet every must-have on my list, short of being an actual unicorn capable of jumping 10 feet.

Warning: will change colors in mud

Truth is, I had no business buying a horse when I did. I had seen Goose, then called Gabe, when he was a five year old and came to the barn for training? Sale? I can’t remember. I do remember him being completely adorable and going home to beg my parents to help me buy him. Unfortunately, he was more money than I could afford and I soon lost track of him when he didn’t stick around the barn. Three years later, I was going into my junior year of college and working at the barn for the summer while babysitting for my old trainer on the side. My friend Jenni was looking to buy a project, and while at Julie’s to babysit she showed me a few horses she knew for sale so I could pass the information along to Jenni. As Julie pulled up the video of a big, dappled draft, I paused. “I know that horse. That’s Gabe.” Julie confirmed that his name was Gabe, and that people she knew were trying to sell him and their older Thoroughbred since their daughters were starting real life and they wanted to downsize the farm. Gabe and the TB, Kuda, were going to be brought to the farm in the near future for her to evaluate and help them market to sell. By this time, Gabe was 8 and had been sitting for a few years enjoying life and not doing too much. As Julie showed me some other videos of horses for sale, I reiterate, for Jenni to look at, NOT me, I couldn’t get the cute grey off my mind.

After much deliberation, amounting to about 24 hours, I talked to my trainer about Gabe and we had him on property the next weekend for me to try. When he stepped off the trailer, he was bigger and goofier than I remembered, looking much more drafty and obese than the horse ensnared in my mind’s eye for the past three years. But the dapples… We talked to the owners, tacked up, and I climbed aboard. It didn’t take long for me to realize I had no steering. Our arena had recently undergone some renovations, and had a high wood-paneled wall all around. Gabe. Was. TERRIFED. The only time I cantered was when he was running away with me, sideways across the arena. All I could think was, “Wow, this is a super comfy canter. Pretty sure I’m not going to die, so I’ll pretend this is okay.” I managed a few laps of trotting on the outside track, and called it quits. The poor horse was uncomfortable in his surroundings, and was clearly very green. I figured I had enough to go off of, and besides, he was SO dappled. Are we sensing a theme yet?

BUT THOSE DAPPLES!

I talked to my trainer about it, and while he was much greener than we had been anticipating, we agreed he had resale potential as I had decided a resale project was the only way I could reasonably buy a horse at the time. She rode the TB around who really just needed to re-learn some brakes and get a quick refresher on the whole riding thing, and we talked to the owners about price. Gabe and Kuda were a BOGO deal, and would even come with the hay they had left in the barn. I decided I needed to sleep on it so we loaded the horses up to send them back home and I promised to call that week with a decision.

I undoubtedly drove my friends crazy that week.

Me: “He’s really green, do you think it’s a good idea?”

Jenni: “Well Lyss, it’s up to you!”

Me: “I know. I probably shouldn’t. I could probably sell him at least as a husband or trail horse after some training, but it’s just the wrong time.”

Jenni: “You’re planning to study abroad this year, it’s probably not the best time to buy a horse.”

Me: “Yeah, true. But he’s so dappled…”

Stunning dapples

Derpy dapples

Dirty dapples

It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. Negotiations were made, and on July 7, 2012, Gabe and Kuda came to the farm, this time to stay. Kuda was quickly dubbed Kashi, and became a wonderful IHSA horse for the college program at that farm. Gabe was renamed Goose, as in Grey Goose, because I was almost 21 and thought it would be super cool if I named my horse after an alcohol. Jenni’s new horse, Jack, came to the farm the same day Goose did, and his show name became Hypnotic. We had a nice alcohol theme going, and besides, the name Goose really fit the big goon.

Brief interlude for baby Goose pics. I should probably mention that he was hand raised by his previous owners from two weeks old. He was a PMU baby, which is why he's basically a giant lapdog. It's taken some work to get him to mind his manners, but there isn't a mean bone in his body and he is now pretty excellent on the ground. 

Five years later, our love story continues. Goose is my heart horse. I often joke that he’s the best worst decision I’ve ever made, and I don’t regret buying him for one second. Don’t get me wrong – I get a kick out of yelling “FIVE DOLLARS ON CRAIGSLIST!” at him when he’s naughty and I’ve come close to selling him many times, but I have never been able to post that sale ad. He’s been a terror in a lot of ways and I’ve had more than one person tell me he’s probably not worth all the time and effort. Joke’s on them, because he has truly become my Unigoose (his preferred version of unicorn). That list of must-haves? He checks [almost] every single item. He got me through college, multiple barns, and a move to NC. In five years, he’s faded from a starry, dapple grey to a lovely shade of white with some flea-bitten speckles. Unless of course he’s a poop-stained pinto. He’s taken me galloping through many fields, both bareback and with tack, and sometimes even with wine in my hand. We haven’t jumped 10 feet, but he’s carried me over 3’6” a few times, and bravely totes me around cross country schoolings while I hang on singing my own version of Jesus Take the Wheel. He knows how to bow, smile, kiss, say ‘yes’, say ‘no’, and how to pose for the camera by pricking his ears any time I point my phone at him. He is the friendliest horse in the world, and it melts my heart every time I get to the barn and he greets me with a nicker and a kind eye.

Unigoose

Not 10 feet, but close enough in my book

Majestic field gallop

All the baby cross country

Goose haz cookie?

He is my best friend, my rock, and I’m so grateful to that stupid 20 year old who bought him even though she was dirt broke and soon leaving to spend six months on the other side of the world. In many ways, he is my dream come true. We can talk about the ways in which he’s my nightmare some other time (cough, vet bills, cough), but for now I’m feeling sappy. Spending time with Goose is one of my favorite things, and Goosebackriding is one of my most treasured pastimes. I know my childhood self would be proud of me and my “BUT THOSE DAPPLES” decision. This horse helped me discover that there is so much more to riding than staying in hunter/jumper land. We have gone on many hunter paces, trail rides, ridden in clinics, schooled cross country, completed Halloween trail rides, and he got to foxhunt last fall with my amazing trainer (we miss you Kendra Clarke!). He is a delight to be around, and usually a barn favorite. He is a goon, a royal pain in the ass, and worth everything that I've put into him, blood, sweat, and tears. 

Save the helmet comments, this never happens I swear. 

Goose turned 13 this spring, and holy crap, gotta pause for a moment because he turned THIRTEEN this spring. Yikes. He’s currently living in Rock Hill, South Carolina, about 40 minutes south of Charlotte. We’ve been getting back into shape after he injured himself in February, and I hope to just enjoy him for the next few months with no specific agenda other than getting slowly back to where we were. We have acres of fields to ride in, some cross country fences, a covered arena, and lit outdoor to play with. While I do have some goals that will eventually involve showing in some capacity, for now I’m just enjoying time with my horse and hoping next year we can get back on track and do a few trials or shows. Whatever we do, I'm happy to have my horse back with me. Nothing like a three-month separation to make you realize you can't live without something. Keep following along for our Goosebackriding misadventures, and you can find his hashtag on Instagram if you’re so inclined. #goosebackriding

#goosebackriding

Stay tuned for an introduction of Goose’s little shadow, Zuzu.