Childhood Dreams... that become my real life

All I ever really wanted was a horse.  And a big dog. But a horse was primary.

I announced this to my mother one afternoon when I was about 4.

My mother, who also loved horses and big dogs, tried to let me down gently. "Oh Honey," she said sadly. "Our little backyard isn't big enough for a horse or a big dog. It wouldn't be fair to them." 

We weren’t “zoned” for horses, and a big dog would need lots of room to run and get exercise.

“You would need a ranch for that,” she told me matter-of-factly.

That set the course of my future.

My parents were complicit in my obsession with horses and big dogs.  They did everything possible to encourage my love of these noble beasts.  They had both ridden in an equestrian drill team in Griffith Park prior to having children.  My father even rode a horse in the drill team who was nicknamed Knight in his honor.  I would gaze at pictures of them riding, of the horses in the troop, the jodhpur breaches and polished boots they wore.

This was all fodder for my obsession.

The best part of Burbank was Riverside Dr.  Houses zoned for horses in the yard were visible just by driving past.  Several public stables lined the street, most notably Pickwick Stables, the site of my future riding lessons.  Every time we left the driveway I would ask, “Can we take Riverside Dr. to get there?”  It was the long way around, but I think my mother enjoyed seeing the horses too.    

My grandmother lived not far from there on Alameda Ave. When I would suffer through my violin lesson at her house, I was rewarded with a walk over to Riverside Dr. afterward to see the horses. One yard on a corner had chainlink fence with horses right inside.  I was warned not to put my fingers through lest they be mistaken for carrots, but I loved the brush of their soft muzzles and warm breath when I put my hand flat against the outside of the chainlink.  We would walk back to Baba’s house smelling like horse breath and hay.  It was heaven.

I loved to draw, color and paint.  It kept me occupied for hours, sitting at my own miniature card table with pictures of children in cowboy outfits roping and riding.  My favorite subject?  Horses, of course.  One summer I discovered permanent markers and spent countless hours drowsily drawing black silhouettes of horses in the heat of my room. It’s possible that part of the drowsiness was the result of the fumes from the markers.

As it turns out, taping my early sketches of horses to my bedroom door was the incident that prompted my declaration of intent to my mother.  She was concerned about the effect of tape on the new paint.  I insisted that I needed a public gallery upon which to display my artwork.

We compromised with a bulletin board in my room.

I read everything I could about horses.  In fact, it was a long time before my mother talked me into reading anything else.  I think she was fine with that as long as I was reading.

“A Pony for Tony” (Little Golden Book)

“Misty of Chincoteague” and “King of the Wind” by Marguerite Henry.

“Black Beauty” by Anna Sewell.

The Black Stallion Series by Walter Farley.

I faithfully watched “Fury” on Saturday mornings (along with “Rin Tin Tin”).

The shelves in my bedroom were lined with beautiful Breyer horses.  I loved them but was frustrated that no one made dolls flexible enough to actually ride them.

In my dreams these magnificent creatures came alive and and took me on vivid adventures through the night while everyone else was asleep.  It was confusing to see them sitting neatly on the shelf in the morning. I could still smell the sweat, feel the salty wind in my hair and the exhilaration of galloping up the mountain trail. Surely there must be mud on my boots and horse hair in the collar of my shirt. How could I be in my jammies in my bed in my room?

Dreams have a way of shouldering their way into everyday life, and the concrete intentions of a child can become reality. It might take half a lifetime, but they can.

Mine did.

More on that next time.

Questions:

Did you have toy horses as a kid?

Were you obsessed with horses growing up?

Did you ever have a real horse?