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One Daring and Devoted Dad


F by Erica Larson


or years, my father was the typical horse Dad. He drove me to and from riding lessons, hauled my horses to shows, and, of course, paid the bills. But


after watching me have all the fun for several years, he decided to hop on our Appaloosa gelding Taz and give it a shot himself. As it turned out, he was hooked from the first ride. After a few years, Dad and Taz were still cruising


around having a blast together. But unfortunately, some balance problems that had started to plague the old man (the horse, that is) finally forced Dad to face a reality: retire the Appy from heavy riding or accept the risk of face-planting when Taz’s legs didn’t function quite right. Of course, the horse came first. But Dad was suddenly


left without a mount, which is an unfortunate place for a (relatively) new and excited rider to be. As fate would have it, though, a few weeks after “retiring” the old man, we received an e-mail from the breeder of my American Warmblood mare, Sadie. She was selling her herd and closing her breeding business, and Sadie’s full brother was one of the last horses she needed to sell. At the time, Lance was a completely untrained four


year-old by the Michigan-based stallion Social Gigolo and out of an imposing Thoroughbred mare, but he had a temperament of gold. He was the breeder’s last foal, so he’d been cuddled and loved on throughout his entire life. He was very mature for his age, and took everything we threw at him in stride. I’ll fully admit that I was hesitant to even suggest that a young horse with zero experience was the right match for a relatively green rider, but Dad seemed to have a strong and almost instant connection with Lance, so we brought him home despite my concerns. I had agreed to help Dad train Lance from the


beginning, and before long he was going very well under saddle. Sure, there were a few rocky moments throughout the course of his initial training, but I’d be hard pressed to find a horse that never threw the odd buck here and there. Once I was confident that Lance would be safe for my father to hop on, he got the okay and climbed aboard. By this stage, we’d had Lance for about a year. He’d grown both mentally and physically, and he’d matured


64 March/April 2011


into a big and correct gelding. Dad’s riding improved so much that even I was surprised. I think he was trying so hard to be a good rider for his new best friend that he couldn’t help but improve. After taking lessons with a local trainer, he began riding Lance on fox hunts and both of them were having a blast and, most importantly, staying safe the whole time. But shortly after Lance celebrated his sixth


birthday, something went wrong. The horse that never said ‘no’ seemed reluctant to do certain things under saddle. Within days of this new strange behavior, an acute lameness appeared. The news that Dad received from our veterinarian wasn’t good. A set of radiographs revealed that Lance had broken a bone in his leg. The news was devastating to all of us, but especially


to my father. He’d grown quite attached to Lance. I joke sometimes that he is more devoted to his horse than to my mother and I! So he asked for complete instructions as to how to go about healing his horse. Thankfully, the break was clean and not overly


severe. In the best-case scenario, he would be back on his feet in about a year with no surgery required. In the worst-case scenario, well, no one really wanted to think of the worst-case scenario. Dad took every effort to make sure Lance wouldn’t experience the worst-case scenario. It was a tedious process. There was lots of wrapping


sport horse snippets Lance and Erica.


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