Sometimes I wish I didn't love horses.
I know I'm not the only person who thinks that. I mean, let's just be honest with each other. It's February. If you step too hard on the ground outside it sounds like you are walking on a pile of sponges. Every turnout is either mud, or if you've been very careful, you might be lucky enough to have a thin layer of grass covering the mud. The daylight may be returning, but it’s a slow process. The horses are simultaneously shaggy and shedding, and hay sticks to your damp hair when you feed.
The whole world feels soggy and gross.
Sometimes I daydream about how what it must be like to be horse-free. I could spend mornings and evenings all snug in my bed. I could have things like vacations, or lazy weekends, or maybe "
Let's admire each other's not-muddy shoes and giant stacks of unspent cash
" parties, or whatever it is non-horse people do with their free time and extra income.
The thing is, loving horses isn't really a choice for me. I've loved them for as long as I can remember, and just looking at them fills me up on the inside in a way I've never understood. So, yeah. I love horses.
Morgans, though? I love all horses, but Morgans I
like
. Liking something is way more fun and uncomplicated than loving something, and I've seriously never found a more likable breed than a Morgan. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what it is about them that makes it so much fun to be around, and I’ve finally decided that it’s because of the way they like you back.
I really do think that whoever came up with that "The Horse That Chooses You" slogan was on to something. All horses are beautiful (well, most of them, anyway), but there's just something about the way a Morgans ears will prick up when they see you coming, or the way they approach the fence with that friendly, inquisitive sparkle in their eye. It demands a response. Sure, it doesn't hurt that they're so beautiful. I love their short, strong backs and solid legs and their pretty heads with large, liquid eyes. Don't get me started on those gorgeous, beautiful manes and tails. I'm an absolute sucker for a horse with hair.
Morgans are pretty, but the reason I like them is more than the beautiful packaging. Every time I interact with Morgans, I just get the feeling that they are happy to be with me. Oh, sure, there's going to be a sourpuss in every breed, but for the most part they are just So. Darn. Likable. They're happy to be with me, and I can't help but feel it right back at them.
If it sounds overly simple, it's not. In a world saturated with social media fights and scary things on the news, there is something so healing to me about the simple joy that Morgans seem to exude. I like to go out in my barn and twist my fingers in my filly's crinkly mane and feel her warm breath on my shoulder. I like her, and she likes me, and that simple, cheerful, intelligent spirit is something I see in the eye of every Morgan I meet. It makes me proud to own one.
So, yeah. As a board member I'm probably not going to be able to sit down with you offer showing tips (I've never shown a horse) I still don't know much about bloodlines, and nobody in their right mind will ever, ever ask me to judge a conformation show (the one with the longest forelock wins. Duh.) What I do have is enthusiasm for the breed, and a beautiful yearling filly in my backyard, and a hope for spring that's lurking around the corner.
It's nice to meet you all. Hopefully I'll get a chance to meet you guys. If you see me at an event, I'll be the one on the railing going,
"Look at that one! Isn't he pretty? Oooh, look at that mare over there! She’s stunning! Oh, oh, I like the one on the left!"
over and over and over.
Feel free to join me.
