I remember his first steps off the trailer and his fiery pop-up rear. “Whoa!” commanded my trainer. This was the horse my instructor has promised was coming for two weeks. This horse was perfect. He was an Appaloosa with only two barely visible spots near his withers. He was said to be buckskin but had barely visible points, the remainders only visible if you dared to get close enough to his rump. I wasn’t allowed to ride Mystic the first night he came. He was angry and proud, but there was something in his fiery brown eyes that made me immediately say “This is the one.”
I walked him around, leading him by his bridle after a hard workout previously that night and I talked to him. “You are beautiful, Mystic. I wish you were mine. I see your owner over there crying, and I would be, too. You are gorgeous, did I tell you that?” I kept telling saying. This was the start of Mystic’s legacy.
A week later I was allowed to ride Mystic.
Of course, Mystic was doing everything to try to unseat me. “Easy, boy,” I must’ve said at least 20 times during that ride. “Rebecca, will he throw me?” I asked, whipping him in a circle for the fifth time. I was trying to get him to canter but he felt like having a nice buck, nearly unseating me. “Well, if you keep your seat well and show him who’s boss, you might stick it, kiddo,” she said, watching me ride my possible horse. That ride was one of the hardest workouts I’ve ever had.
“How did you like his jump?” Becca asked after we did a jumping line with a cross rail and a 2 foot 3 vertical. “He’s great! I am positive he’s the right horse!” I said happily, stroking his neck. He gave an angry kick with his hind leg and snorted at my touch. “Easy, babe. Hush, you’re a good boy,” I soothed. His ears perked forward and I was in love.

This was not easy.
I’d finally bought my first horse after just selling my pony to a jumper barn and I was having a horrible time. While my best friend Gina was jumping 3 feet, I was desperately struggling to keep my horse from bucking at a canter. While she was doing 3 foot 3 I was beaming if we accomplished a cross rail without a refusal. I was letting Bridie and Bianca take turns riding my horse who insisted he was going to throw them.
But, after awhile, things had worked out! We were whisked off to our first show. I had just taken my first fall off of Mystic a few weeks earlier and was still sore from the hip pointer he’d given me, but all I cared about was showing the judges my horse’s blue ribbon strut. I wasn’t allowed to jump Mystic at this small schooling show, so instead Bridie did. All the jumps were awkward and with at least 3 refusals per cross rail course, but he made it through. I couldn’t wait to jump on him!
I came home that night with only a 10th ribbon.
Months went on and Mystic and I were to the point of jumping 2 feet and showing 18 inches. I loved jumping him and his perfect extended trot and slow rocking canter. He was taking the flat shows by storm and was a magnificent jumper and had the same fire of when he first came.
But I found that when I looked within myself, I found dismay. The other girls at my barn were ready for C circuit showing (roughly 3 feet in jumps) and I was nervous to do 2 foot 3. “Rebecca, will I ever be able to the C circuit?” I asked, feeling down after a particularly rough lesson on my “mule”. Rebecca smiled at me and nudged Bridie who was sitting next to her. “She was wondering about the C circuit!” Becca said, laughing softly. I felt humiliated and wanted to disappear. “Honey, Mystic’s ready for the circuit, you just need your confidence up,” she said, smiling warmly. Bridie beamed at me too. “You guys are so ready. Trust him!” Bridie encouraged.
I took a deep breath and thought about it. I knew I was a low confidence rider, especially on Mystic. He was pretty big for me, standing about 16 hands and was very crafty at refusals. But I knew he could do things. He proved this to me a few months later.
December. The month of improvement.
We’d accomplished a feat of a 2 foot 6 fence and were feeling good. “Mystic and Mary!” people would call us. I heard people say “Yeah, she trained that horse to jump all by herself,” which made me spur Mystic into a lively strutting trot and beam joyfully. It all happened on a low confidence lesson when Mystic was refusing everything and I was giving my gelding a large variety of circles and names.
“Jump this,” my trainer said, pointing to a jump she told me was 2’6”. I highly doubted this but gulped and remember a fortune on a Chinese fortune cookie I’d gotten earlier in the week. Do not under estimate yourself, for humans have unlimited potential. I took a deep breath and cantered at the line. He refused the first jump several times, but I finally spurred him over it. We canted at the apparent “2 foot 6” jump and nearly trotted over effortlessly. “Congratulations, you just jumped 3 foot!” my trainer called to me as I praised my horse and rubbed him and praised him.
All this taught me a valuable lesson.
Have faith in your horse, no matter what people tell you,
And you have unlimited potentials, never doubt yourself!
I leave you with this to think about;
Sometimes things will be rough, and people will put you down,
But you must remember…
Do not under estimate your horse, for even the most mangled pony might be the next champion!
Search for talent in the most unlikely cases, for it lies there for the right person to discover it…