My love of horses goes back well beyond the release of “The Black Stallion” to the big screen.  All of the stories of famous stallions and horses have helped develop the soft spot in my heart, and recently that spot was greatly enlarged by the injury, struggle and ultimate death of the great racing horse, Barbaro.

From an early age, I was drawn to horses.  As sad as it sounds, even the smell of the animals brings a sense of peace around me.  For several years, I was blessed to attend a local horse camp where I got first hand experience caring for and working with these amazing animals.  For my 12th birthday, my parent’s surprised me with my very own horse.

In high school, I took my love for horses to the next level by taking an apprenticeship at an Arabian horse farm.  I learned the intricacies involved with preparing these horses for show.  I was trained to be a junior show rider.  And I got the wonderful “privilege” of learning how the breeding program worked (not something for the weak in stomach).

By college, I was no longer in a position to be around horses all the time.  But the love and the longing is still strong.  Every chance I get, I ride or pet or care for horses.  Through my own love, a love for horses has grown in my own children.  Last year, I was able to set them up with their own horse riding lessons.  They learned to ride bareback (an amazing experience) so that they would know how to grip with their knees.  They learned to saddle the horses on their own.  And they learned to groom and care for the horses they were riding.

For me, riding is a chance to lose myself in the wind.  It’s no wonder that so many great stories have feature characters that own (or are) the great creature we call horse.