The start of it all.

It was my beautiful dog, Patsy’s birthday this week turning a big 5 (which is apparently the equivalent of 40 years, making us both the same age - nyaww). It had me being all nostalgic and thinking back over all our adventures and where life has led us. Obviously Patsy had zero say in having horses in her life, but unlike her I wasn’t born into a horsey family.

My sister and I were horse mad from a young age, cantering around (on-foot) the backyard, making jumps and pretty much “hobby-horsing”, before it was a thing (if you haven’t heard of it, be warned, it is a very serious sport now and they have championships all over the world…). We went to a riding school weekly, got our pony club certificates and convinced our parents that we could definitely have our own.

Smartly, our parents decided to lease a horse first through a riding centre. With their help we landed an old, underweight, rainscald ridden and leech bitten horse to take on. Probably not so smart.

Glen was a 15.3hh, 21yo arab x standardbred gelding. Red bay with a star and two socks. He had been around, seen many things and learnt much more in the process. Glen was as tough as they come, and he promptly picked up condition, grew all his coat back and the sparkle in his eyes returned.

We learnt the real basics of horse ownership with Glen… vet bills, horses having an opinion (especially older ones), saddle fitting, feed, more vet bills and most importantly how smart arabs are and how stubborn standardbreds are.

Glen was a real character. He was mostly very un-enthused about riding and would flop his bottom lip and ears like a goofball, making sure we were absolutely certain in our riding plans for the day. While kind, he had a cheeky side and regularly used it to his advantage. If we were jumping, or trail riding, or if he was just feeling fresh, his ears would prick forward (also a lesson every horse rider learns… pricked forward ears = “oh no”) and you knew you were not in for a relaxing ride. Even into his mid-twenties, he’d have his fresh days and would shy and bolt at whatever he thought might make a reasonable excuse… shadows and boogey men.

My sister and I convinced our parents to build stables and paddocks at home, and with that Glen (and our second horse, Shorty) moved in. Moving from the social stables to having horses at home was an initial adjustment, but very quickly we were able to witness their personalities on a more personal level.

As my sister and I moved onto other horses, Glen was ridden every now and again by our mum. Learning all the riding basics like eyes up and heels down (mostly so you could keep an eye on his ears and hang on when he shied).

Shorty and Glen (double dinking)

Living with them at our back door we could see the way they interacted with each other, their routines, their foibles. Who they were. And they became part of the family. On weekends Glen used to park himself under the verandah, and watch the tv through the window. We had to make sure all the doors were closed, because on a couple of occasions, he let himself inside the house and we had to figure out how to turn him around and get him out safely without spooking him or hitting a fan or wall or door! He (and Shorty) also loved all the treats that came with home life. Especially when my dad specifically bought packets of finger buns to watch them be inhaled.

Glen lived to the age of 30 and was the top of the herd until the day he died. I have so many amazing memories of him that still make me smile and giggle. He really was the start of it all and my affinity with arabs.

I started photography after Glen, but below are some arabs and partbreds for your viewing pleasure.