In Loving Memory of Half Royal
4/15/83 to 12/14/11
On March 3, 1991, I became the proud new owner of a big bay off-track thoroughbred named Half Royal. Little did I know what adventures I was about to have. At eight years old, Roy, as he came to be called, still considered himself a racehorse. He'd had some solid dressage training, but that didn't matter to him. He was a racehorse. A fast one. He made sure I was aware of that one day when I was out riding and someone decided to take off cantering back toward the barn. Roy wanted to go too. I managed after about four times around the field to get him slowed down. After that we bought a stronger bit.
Roy was going to be my event horse. So I practiced dressage and tried to stay in the arena. I had jumping lessons and tried to convince him that crossbars were not start gates. Eventually, we got it together enough to not only stay in the arena, but to do a dressage test while we were there. His head was in the air, and the judge was probably afraid we would plow through the judges stand, but we did a test. And on a stadium course, I was able to get him around to all the jumps. That's not to say he went over them. Sometimes I went without him. See, Roy taught me that horses know what you really want no matter how hard you try to convince them otherwise. And he knew quite well that I really didn't want him to go over that jump that we were running straight toward. I frequently found myself neatly deposited on the back side of the fence with reins still in my hand and Roy standing on the front side like "wouldn't it be easier if we just went around it?"
Roy didn't stay a crazy scaredy cat forever. He blossomed into a confident, happy mount. Don't get me wrong, he still liked to throw in a good spook once in a while, but life got a little easier. We competed in a lot of horse trials and he was pretty good in the hunter ring. Thanks to a bowed tendon that ended his jumping career, I found my passion. Roy was just as good, if not better, at dressage. He was a willing partner and a quick learner. Except for flying changes. Those baffled him, and we never did get them. But we got pretty good at everything else, and we loved what we did. He had a presence in the ring, and his sweet temperament shone through. Judges smiled at us even when we did poorly, because we were a perfect pair. Roy was perfectly happy to retire from dressage when the time came and teach my kids to ride. Even after he was an old man, though, he would have done anything I asked. I could feel that canter pirouette and had to resist the temptation to do one. I loved that horse with all my heart. He set a standard that few horses will be able to live up to. Most importantly, he gave so much and taught me to appreciate everything that our noble equine friends do for us. On December 14, 2011, I had to do the hardest thing for him. It was heartbreaking, but to let my boy suffer one more minute would have been unbearable. I saw the pain in his eyes, and I knew he was telling me it was time to say goodbye. He'll never really be gone though. He is there in every interaction with every horse. He left behind a legacy that will always exist in my barn. And he will always be in my heart.
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