Bruised

I don't even know where to start.......at the beginning......when this latest issue seemed to originate or now.....as I find myself reeling in the aftermath. I guess since things seem to build for me and the building itself explains part of the story I probably should go to the first instance that I felt myself shaken. Bear with me, there will be a lot about horses in this.....but I guess that's only understandable since horses are so important to me. It makes sense that is where I'm vulnerable.

It was back at the Region 5 Championships. I ran into a friend in the restrooms. After our usual "hellos" she proceeded to tell me what had happened to her when she'd tried to breed her mare this season.

It sounds like a benign enough conversation and what happened to my friend was indeed a stressful, emotional ordeal to be sure. But if I have to be honest there were warning signs to indicate this situation might not be what it seemed. The fact her horse and her dog ended up in the midst of a seventy horse animal rescue situation might have been avoided if she hadn't been so trusting and done a little research.

Did I say this to my friend.......well, no. She was in enough pain over what had happened I didn't see where my observations would be helpful so I kept them to myself. There would be plenty of time later to talk about my observations.

Then in the course of our conversation, my friend asked me if she could see my new colt there at the show. As we walked to his stall we found ourselves discussing pedigree......probably because his pedigree is part of why I bought this horse. My friend's remark was "I know nothing about pedigrees."

Now breeding is one of those things that requires lots of investigation if you really want it to go well. The pedigree of a horse can have a big effect on the outcome of that mating. If you don't want to have things go wrong....... research is in order. I only mention this because it has bearing on the twist this conversation took.

While looking at my colt, this friend asked me what I was going to do with him. Didn't I already have enough horses? I guess this is the place that I should have realized that this woman really is NOT my friend but I didn't. I proceeded to tell her I had gotten this colt to breed to my Legs daughters.
That's when she really let me have it. She went on about how many horses I own. Asked if I had sold any and basically said I had too many and I shouldn't be breeding anymore. She basically implied that I was responsible for there being so many rescue horses in this country.

Obviously I know her logic is flawed. This is none of her business. And if she really was my friend she wouldn't be attacking me. But that doesn't change the hurt associated with such a betrayal. This woman who indiscriminately bred her mare to a horse she found on the internet because she likes its color and its breed is certainly no expert. She is not a fair judge of whether my horses are adequate or not. And even if she were, it is really my business how many I breed. As long as I am taking proper care of them, it is no one's business but mine. But even at that she implied that maybe I wasn't taking proper care of my horses...........another big slap in the face.

Throughout the course of this conversation I stood up for myself. What I had to say didn't change her mind one bit. Nor did it change mine. I was really pissed off about her insinuations. While the conversation didn't ever digress to yelling or screaming.........it certainly could have. Instead it was a controlled burn.......so to speak. I spoke my piece. She spoke hers and we parted on not good terms.

This instance was just one of several at that particular horse show that had me feeling off balance. Instead of being there relaxing and having fun with my horse I felt I was in enemy territory and there were reward posters hung everywhere. People were out for my hide. It was an uncomfortable situation to be caught in.

Situations like this are when I appreciate being fragmented. I can separate my feelings from what's happening at the time and get myself through without embarrassing myself. It's the aftermath that is hell.

To be continued........