Immediately I thought of Becky, our dear miniature mare. What better way for library visitors to experience a horse-themed exhibit than by getting to meet an actual horse? So what if the actual horse is on a smaller scale than the chargers and warhorses of myth and legend that populate literature. Becky’s compact size makes her not only more energy-efficient, but much easier to get in the front door of the Library than the average warhorse.

Nancy accepted our offer with enthusiasm, and Becky’s Big Day was officially put on the calendar. Our plan was for Becky to make an appearance at the Library on the last day of the exhibit, when Vanessa herself would be there to take photos and talk about her work. Becky and I would come into the building, ride the elevator to the second floor, and set up for visitors in the Children’s Library surrounded by a great selection of favorite horse books. I would give a brief talk about Becky, then people could come meet her, pat her, and get a picture taken with her if they wished.

Though I encountered some disbelief and skepticism from people when I told them of our plans, putting a pony in a library is nothing new. When I was a little girl growing up in Elgin, Illinois, famed author Marguerite Henry lived in the nearby village of Wayne. Her books were some of the greatest treasures of my young life. One of my favorites was Newbery award winner Misty of Chincoteague, a story about a family raising a pony foal and the celebration of “Pony Penning Day” on Chincoteague Island off the coast of Virginia. The real Misty lived with Ms. Henry in Wayne for a time, and was a regular visitor to area libraries, including ours in Elgin. So now, over fifty years later, it seemed both logical and a great honor to follow in Misty’s distinguished hoofprints.

On the morning of her public debut, Becky was thoroughly groomed and prepped. She had a date with the horse vacuum, then a red ribbon was braided into her forelock and a little glitter brushed into her flowing mane. Finally, I fitted her out in her new halter and lead rope, and together we strolled down Elm Hill and into town. We enjoyed receiving smiles and waves along the way, though an amazing number of people drove right by us without even a glance. We paused at the old horse watering trough near the bus stop. Recent rains had filled it, and Becky sniffed at it and then took a few sips. I wondered how many years had passed since another horse had drunk from that basin.

We got to the Library right on time, and a good-sized crowd had assembled to watch her arrival. She had a smooth trip on the elevator, and we took up our station in the Children’s Room with no fuss at all. For over an hour, little Becky performed like a trouper. She stood patiently while dozens of strangers, some who had never touched a horse before, came up to pet her and have their picture taken with her. Her attention never wavered. She responded with interest and courtesy to every person who met her. I found I was able to step back, several feet away at the end of the lead line so that I wouldn’t show up in everybody’s photograph, and she continued to stand perfectly still.

Even though I went into the day with one hundred percent confidence in Becky’s ability to carry on safely and with good humor, I was absolutely swept off my feet by her performance. Not only was she tolerant and well-behaved, she was completely invested in every moment. Each person had her total attention, each of the hundred or so photos from the day shows her alert and focused on the job at hand.

Finally, once everybody had had a turn, we loaded back on to the elevator for the first floor and were soon out in the fresh air and hiking back up Elm Hill. Becky got a bucketful of carrots when we got home, then I turned her out with her companions to enjoy a lovely roll in the mud and the horse equivalent of recess for the rest of the afternoon. And that was Becky’s Big Day.

Thanks to Becky’s and my steadfast assistants, Kathy and Sofia Gulick for smoothing the way, to Nancy Tusinski for taking us on, and Library Director Russ Moore for trusting us in his Library!

Visit www.TheLiteraryHorse.com to learn more about this wonderful traveling exhibit.

Thumbnail photo by Wendy Svec, all other photos c. Vanessa Wright and used with her permission.

Willa has no time for sentiment. She has always been a horse who wanted to cut to the chase, no kisses or lovey-dovey stuff. Just let her jump the jumps, gallop down the path, do what needs to be done. She has accepted carrots and rubbing over the years not because she sought affection but because they were her due. She repeatedly saved my bacon going cross country, not out of some anthropomorphized sense of loyalty but because she understood her job and seemed to relish it.

Willa and I became sparring partners late in the summer of 1983. She was a nicely started 3- year-old and I was in my late twenties, teaching in the riding program at Dartmouth College. I had the use of a stall with the job, and with the financial backing of my mother, I purchased Willa as a likely sales project. Willa had promise and sass and sense, and displayed unusual ability over fences from the first day we casually popped over a log out on the trail.

In my mind she is inextricably connected with my mother. Not only because my mother bought her for me, but because they remind me of each other, with a dash of namesake Willa Cather thrown in for good measure. My mother was born and raised in Nebraska, and was deeply familiar with the landscapes and people Cather wrote about in My Antonia, O Pioneers, Song of the Lark, and other stories. Like Cather the author and Willa the horse, my mother was not sentimental, but committed to getting on with the business of life.

I don’t know if this justifies the fact that twenty-seven years later my sales prospect is still eating hay in our barn. Willa was with me when I met, dated, and eventually married my husband Scott. She has moved cross country with us a couple of times. She took me on lovely relaxing hacks when I was pregnant with our twin boys. The twin boys are twenty now and though they have moved out, the horse is still here. She has seen me through better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health, and has never uttered a word about obeying anyone.

My purpose here is not to recount her competitive history, nor to reminisce about her unflinching honesty and courage in front of whatever obstacle she was aimed at. Ribbons, triumphs, fun and glory have certainly been part of the picture, both for me and for Scott. Frustration, too. Her disdain for the dressage ring was legendary, as was her mulish reluctance to load on the horse trailer without a compatible equine escort.

What I want to celebrate is Willa today. She is an old horse, a cranky horse, an arthritic and arguably senile horse. Equally, she is a living miracle. Her ego, her look, her attitude are as intact and tangible as ever. When I lead her from the barn to her paddock on cool mornings, she snorts and shies and jigs just as she did a quarter of a century ago. She treats me with as little respect now that I am gray and grandmotherly as she did when I was young and ambitious. She no longer dominates the big group of mares in turn-out, but she happily lords it over her designated companion, Becky the mini horse. Age has distilled her into the purest essence of herself. In her great longevity she serves as a daily reminder of the impermanence of our most precious relationships, and as an inspiration to keep moving forward.

We have been beyond busy.  The ponies and I are more than ready for our end-of-season break.  But we have had a lot of fun.  The final regular session of Canter Camp was last week, and we celebrated with the traditional Friday pizza, awards, and “Becky Day”.  Canter Camp riders all managed to negotiate the outdoor ring, work on up and down hill balance, create a fairly sophisticated trail course, play a variety of mounted games, and, of course, canter.  We were especially happy to be joined by friend and graduate Erika Anderson and her horse Pretty Girl for the last week.

Lunch

The Jr/Beginner Camp, new this year, was a big hit.  We were fully staffed with helpers and leaders, and the horses were truly saintly as we made it through what was the first group riding experience for most participants.  Thanks to Sofia, Francesca, and Shaina for their assistance, and for perfecting the art of the “mid-trot leader-change handoff”  with Fleur.  You have to see it to believe it.

At camp we always share.

Also, huge thanks to the “T-shirt committee” of Phil Drinker, Kathy Gulick and various members of their families who got pressed into service.  The T’s were a great success, and I look forward to seeing them around town.

I will post more pictures as I get them, and plan on being a bit more forthcoming on the blog with plans for the fall.  Summer offers no time for reflection, at least not in this business.

The horses have almost shed out their prolific winter coats and are starting to look sleek and shiny, though not yet in their full summer splendor. Many of our riders have received instruction in the correct application of the tool known as the shedding blade, and most of them have gone home covered from head to toe in horse hair of varying shades. Sorry mom. I always tell students that though they may harbor many expectations of their riding lessons, staying clean is definitely not among them.

After a winter of relative leisure spent hanging out in their run-in sheds eating, socializing, and napping around the “community center” provided by the round bale, the horses have gone back to work. They have settled into a regular routine of exercise, lessons, and grooming, and have been ridden through the inevitable kinks and friskiness that are as much a part of spring as the return of the robins and redwing blackbirds. We are still basically stuck in the indoor arena for serious work and lessons, but have ventured out on little strolls around the property for cooling out and relaxation.

We have been delighted to host another Therapeutic Riding group from Park Street School in Springfield this spring. Thanks to the efforts of Park Street nurse Jenny Anderson and the generosity of the Knights of Columbus and individuals from the Park Street community, four young people have been able to participate in six group riding sessions. None of them had prior horse experience, and they have spent their time learning to groom, tack up, lead, and get acquainted with their horses, as well as getting an introduction to basic riding skills. The riders have the same horse for the whole session so that they can really get to know a little bit about that individual. They learn whether their horse has any ticklish spots or any places where they love a little extra currying, whether they hate having the girth tightened or are stoic about it, if they are easy to bridle or a little sly about taking the bit, if they would rather lead or follow, if they prefer carrots or apples.

This group has worked hard and had great focus. Though today was only their fourth lesson, they are all able to stop, start, and steer, can balance with no hands in the two-point position at a walk, and are beginning a little trot work with the help of their leaders. We are especially grateful to our team of volunteer assistants (we call them “wranglers”), who are a huge help in keeping the lessons flowing smoothly and safely. Our wranglers for this session have been two mother/daughter teams: Jenny and Erika Anderson and Kathy and Sofia Gulick.

I am happy to report that the lengthening hours of daylight have inspired me to spend a little more time with my own horse, Max. Poor Max is a lot like the proverbial shoemaker’s child, always last on my list of things to do. We tend to go in fits and starts, and he is always testing me to make sure I really mean what I say. So far this spring we’ve had some pretty good rides, and I am looking forward to more as the weather and outdoor footing continue to improve.

Waiting for the rain to stop.

Erika has worked hard on her riding and horsemanship over the years, sticking with it while many of her peers lost interest or focused on other sports as they got older. Even though she has a lot of other commitments and demands on her time, she has remained a loyal friend of the farm and unfailing in her loving care of her own horse, Pretty Girl.

Erika’s relationship with Pretty Girl is a story in itself. The two have a special bond developed over years of mutual growth and learning. Under Erika’s care, Pretty Girl has evolved from a plain bay mare of unknown origins to a well-schooled, versatile horse who loves to jump and lead the way. Though Erika still enjoys riding and having lessons on the horses at Baymare Farm, there can be no doubt that her heart belongs to Pretty Girl.

We know that Erika’s character and energy assure her success in whatever future she chooses to pursue. We also know that horses, especially one plain bay mare, have played a part in forming that character. Thank you Erika, for all that you do!