On our way to the local swing dance studio Friday night, my 15-year old step daughter’s friend asked me what I was doing this summer. I said horse shopping and “Seriously, it’s a whole lot like dating. You have to figure out the qualities you’re looking for in a good match and go meet them and see how it goes.”

The friend said, “Yes, and it could be dangerous.” I chuckled at that point thinking about how true it was.

Thankfully during my heyday of Internet dating (pre-husband, mind you) I only encountered one individual that I would classify as a dangerous person and it only took me about three dates to figure that out. The third time was not a charm, but a full-blown soap opera in which his girlfriend (he told me she was an ex-girlfriend) came over to his apartment and basically kicked the door in to see him.

I figured things were a little strange when he not only was not going to open the door to her, but suggested instead that I go out onto his balcony and then climb over to the neighbor’s balcony. That was the dumbest thing I had ever heard a person suggest.

It didn’t quite sink in that he was a shady character until after he urged me to go hide in his bedroom and lock the door so, “you won’t be subjected to the kind of language I might have to use to get her to leave.”

Again, my practical Midwestern sensibilities were perplexed by this most ludicrous of suggestions (but it sounded better than climbing across balconies) so I went to his room and was very scared when I heard the screaming, yelling and eventual door crashing onto the floor followed by police sirens.

You read it right. Police sirens.

After about five minutes of quiet, I opened the door and saw this potential suitor sitting against the wall of his apartment with his face in his hands. A police officer was there too.

This was not a scene I ever imagined myself being part of. I’m a school teacher who went to the same college as Billy Graham. Let’s just say I had never been in such a colorful situation before.

The officer escorted me into the kitchen and then questioned me on what happened. I said I didn’t really know what was going on and he asked me how well I knew the guy and I said not very well, I had met him swing dancing and gone on a couple of dates with him. The officer very diplomatically suggested (off the record) that I should steer clear of this guy. It all sank in at this point and I thanked him. There’s more to the story which I’ll save for later.

The good news is that I got a clear view on the man’s character that day even without the officer’s advice. He was not a good guy. Definitely not boyfriend material and certainly not husband material.

However there are so many more stories of decent, kind men I met and liked, but for whatever reason, I didn’t LIKE them. At least not in that special way.

Yesterday I tried a horse. And I really liked him. I had fun riding him. I liked his owner and the trainer. All three of them seemed like good citizens and trustworthy.

This horse is six and is currently only being ridden once a week (by a reining trainer) as his owner had to have hip replacement surgery. The owner is in her 60s and has had him since he was three. She found him through a friend at work who had him in her backyard. He is an unraced 17 hand chestnut Thoroughbred with a cute blaze.

Get this: the owner had been riding him out on trails alone! He’s that kind of a quiet and sensible horse.

When we arrived the trainer did some round pen work with him. They’ve been following Clinton Anderson’s methods (which I honestly don’t know that much about, but I was impressed with how attentive he seemed to the trainer while getting a bit of energy out in the pen).

Then the trainer hopped on and did all kind of cool reining things that I don’t know the names of but looked like a turn on forehand and sidepassing. Then she walked, trotted and cantered him and he was kind of cute. I asked to see him go over a couple of jumps. He just kind of went. The last time he was ridden was a week ago.

He obviously needs more consistent training to work on balance and keeping a little frame, but in spite of his lack of regular work and inexperience jumping, he seemed pretty nice. Safe. Attentive.

Another horse came into the arena while I was riding and that horse was acting a little naughty. The big chestnut didn’t even flinch. I don’t think he even looked at the other horse.

I told Mark last night at dinner the gelding is like the nerdy guy in high school who has a bad haircut and outdated glasses. He could blossom to be a nice catch.

Mark responded, “Oh, so he’s like me then?” 🙂

And did I mention he only wears shoes in front? The horse, that is.

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Photo of Susan with her horse Knight

I'm Susan and this is my horse Knight. We have been a blogging team since 2015 and we're glad you're here. Tally ho!

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