A new horse on the horizon?

Maybe, just maybe, there's a new horse on the horizon.  I'm not going to say too much more about her as I'm feeling very superstitious, and am frightened I'm going to jinx it.  She's being vetted on Tuesday, so it's not a certainty. 

I'm trying not to let myself get too emotionally involved in case she doesn't pass, but it's virtually impossible.  I'm sure it's the same for anyone buying a horse, but in getting to the point of making an offer, you're already attached to them.  Mum and I found ourselves talking about what rugs we have that would fit her as we were driving to see her for the second time.  I guess it's the equine equivalent of picturing how your furniture would fit in each room whilst house-hunting!

The timing is totally wrong.  I was in no way, shape or form, ready to think about having another horse, needing space and time to grieve for Murphy.  And at this stage in my recovery, or more accurately lack of recovery, it didn't make sense when I'm not well enough to drive the 15-20 minutes to the yard at Mum and Dad's, let alone be able to do something useful once I got there.  Little did I know, my Mum and friends thought differently.  The first I knew of it, they'd already been down to see her and had arranged for Mum and I to go the following day.  I was pretty annoyed.

Once I'd recovered enough from my initial outburst to listen to what Mum was saying about her, and I'd seen her picture from the advert, I was still very dubious but reluctantly agreed to go.  I had to concede that were I looking, she would tick every box on my list of 'must haves' and quite a few of the 'nice to haves' too! 

After all, maybe I was wrong, and Mum was right.  She's convinced that a horse will provide me with some much needed therapy - fresh air, exercise and sunshine(!) - particularly coming into spring and summer.  An incentive.  Something to aim for.  A connection with my life before I was ill.  That a ten minute hack up the road and back would restore more mental energy, than it would drain the physical kind.  Besides that, the right horse would be one that we could all enjoy; Mum looking after her while I'm well enough to do more with her; Dad on hand for polos and cuddles; Matt running or cycling with me on hacks.

Between then, and agreeing to buy her subject to vetting, there has been a huge amount of soul-searching, analysing, debating, and 3:00 in the morning agonising.  Twice I decided to walk away.  I wasn't ready, didn't have the emotional energy, wasn't well enough.  If I was exhausting myself even thinking about having a horse, then surely it wasn't the right time.  But I couldn't get past the feeling that she was an opportunity not to be missed, a chance to have a special horse for all of us.   

So, it feels somehow as though she has found me rather than the other way around.  I've got everything crossed for Tuesday, and hopefully there will be many more posts about her.