It’s the little things.

His tiny squeal when he is concerned. His lower lip hanging so low when he is relaxed or sleeping, you can land an airplane. His little hind leg cow kick when he is protesting or nervous. His whinny that is so high pitched when he is calling to his friends, you’d never believe it was coming from a 17-hand, 1500-pound gelding. His pricked ears and deep, thoughtful eyes when he is focused on you or ready for whatever is on hand.  

Courtesy of Meghan McNamara

I remember when I got the message “are you still looking for another project?” from my good friend on the track. At the time, I was facing massive personal change, including a big move to a new state with no job secured. No one in their right mind would say yes, but something in my gut was screaming. I think my response was a simple “yes,” not knowing what was next, but in came this video of this massive, dark, DARK bay gelding. His ears pricked to Trevor Denman’s voice calling something at Santa Anita in the background, curious but calm.

“He’s a sale project. I’ll take him to the 2022 Makeover and list him,” I told myself and everyone around me in response to the whispers behind my back and outward remarks, “ANOTHER one?” I was living in a barn apartment at the time, and the Brookledge van was so big and the entrance to the property was too small, I met them in the parking lot of a show venue in Dripping Springs, Texas. I’ll never forget when Bronn walked off the trailer… I was speechless.

I loaded him up in my little stock trailer behind my F150, the rig of my dreams, but a far cry from what I was sure he was used to, and our journey began. I never could have imagined what was to come.

Since then, he has been diagnosed with, and has so far successfully held at bay, a rare form of cancer, being the pro that he is in many different equine hospitals. He has moved from California to Texas to Colorado. He has been fox hunting, trail riding, horse camping, eventing, and hunter showing. Thinking about the past year and a half with him and looking forward to the big show, I am blown away with how much we have done together.

As a sit here writing, teary eyed and proud, the reality of the past month also hits. I had a fall. It wasn’t doing anything significant. He is so smart and retains things like an elephant. Ever since his spook at the water trough in Fort Robinson, he has had an aversion to water AND silver troughs. At a cross country schooling, I was patiently trying to work him through his anxiety. Lots of pats and releases from the pressure he was feeling. Well, as we were walking by a log near the water, he spooked out from under me at a fake goose hidden in the tall grass. Because he is so level-headed, I wasn’t expecting it and fell flat on my back. You would think that a fall from a walk wouldn’t shake confidence levels, but since then, I have been very wary, slowly but surely gaining it back in time for our first recognized event, though at the starter level.

Courtesy of Meghan McNamara

The event went well all things considered. I was an absolute wreck coming off a week of no sleep and a late flight back to Denver the night previous. I was certainly not the jockey he deserved, but he took care of me around all three phases. “Are you ok up there?” he seemed to ask me a few times. “You’re flopping around like a fish!” As brave as he is, like many of our equine partners, if I am uncertain so is he – though at this show, his uncertainties seemed to come from a place of making sure I was still in the center of the saddle and not his own fears.

I’m very honest about the highs and lows of horses with my friends and on social media, which feels very vulnerable at times and has me question the “whys.” Why am I doing this show or that event, why do I even choose this lifestyle? It’s difficult. Horses are heartbreaking and scary. The risk is so high, but the reward is even higher. With my fall, and the week away, I had so much time to reflect, and the answer to my “why” is so simple. It’s all those little things.

I’ve probably mentioned it a million times in different blogs, but the Thoroughbred Makeover hits different. People show up to this event for the love of the racehorse. There is so much support and sharing that happens before and during the event, it’s impossible to not want to keep coming back. I have made lifelong friends and fulfilled so many dreams because of my participation.

Thinking back to the day Bronn walked off the trailer and into my life, I’m overcome with gratitude. Admittedly, after dressage, I went back to that same little stock trailer with him and had a good cry. A cry of gratitude that I get to live this dream with these people and these horses. I buried my head in Bronn’s neck and just thanked him. We certainly weren’t first that day and who knows if we will ever be, but I don’t care. I care about him and the people I’ve met on this journey.

I am so thankful for every ride, every concerned squeal, every hug I get when he is sleepy with his droopy lip, every time he communicates that he’s not ready for something with his mini kick (and no, it’s never directed at someone and yes, we are working on other ways to express ourselves). And those eyes. Those caring, soulful eyes. As you can probably tell if you’ve made it this far… no, he’s certainly not a sale project.