Adding Panache

Panache: (noun) a grand or flamboyant manner; swagger; verve (Macquarie Dictionary)

Also, Panache (proper noun): Thoroughbred x Australian Riding Pony, chestnut gelding, 16 years old, 15 hand high.

“Want to come on a quick road trip?”

“Oh I should say no but would love to. Could go tomorrow or Friday.”

That wasn’t the response I had expected. I had been texting my friend Lisa about a couple of horses I was half interested in going to see. They were both near the same town, a couple of hours drive from where Lisa and I both live. Lisa’s life is at the frenetic end of the busy scale and I was being cheeky asking her if she wanted to take a whole day to come with me to check out the two horses. I thought she would say no. I was almost sure she would say no. But her saying yes meant I had to quickly decide whether I was serious or not.

I have been considering getting a new horse for a while. Yet at the same time, I have been thinking about giving up riding.

I have two horses. Floss is now 27yo and has told me recently that’s she’s had about enough of carrying me along trails. Dante was originally intended to be my next riding horse but hasn’t turned out that way. (I told Dante’s story previously.) So I have two horses but not one I can easily jump on and go for a canter up the hill, or even a plod around the block. Perhaps I’m getting too old for the risk of riding anyway. Perhaps Floss and Dante could be farmed off elsewhere. Perhaps the money that horses devour (literally) could be put to better use.

I began to reconcile myself to a life without horses. A life without riding. I spoke loudly about the benefits of not having horses – more time and money, less risk of physical injury, easier to go away … But I felt something inside me dim a little with the idea of no horses, so I tried on the contrary idea: what if I got a new horse, a good, solid reliable riding horse, and began a new equine partnership? I felt the joy surge through me at the thought. I began looking in earnest, putting feelers out among my horsey friends, reading ads with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication.

“I can’t do Friday this week. Visitors coming. Maybe next week?” I messaged back to Lisa.

“Too long away.”

That left Monday, which at that point was the next day. I rang the horse sellers and sorted the logistics. We were on for tomorrow!

I pick Lisa up from her gate at 7am. We head out of town towards the highway. Misgivings assault me.

‘Maybe this is a mistake,’ I say. ‘Maybe I should take you back home and let you get on with whatever you should be doing.’

Lisa shrugs. ‘Up to you. I’m committed to this now.’

I keep driving, heart thumping.

The miles slip past. We talk about everything and anything in the way old friends can.

We pull up to see the first horse. We’re at a farm with rolling hills and huge avocado trees. A man greets us. I’ll call him K. The horse is his daughter’s but she’s away studying. K has a kind manner and a friendly smile. Lisa and I both like him immediately. We follow him to the horse paddock where he introduces us to Panache and tells us about his background, what he has and hasn’t done, what he will and won’t do. There’s no ‘selling’ involved: just honest appraisal and information. Lisa and I stand side by side, stroking the horse, checking him out. Panache stands quietly while we look him over, lift his feet, feel his back, his knees, his fetlocks, look in his mouth. ‘He’s really nice,’ Lisa says quietly to me. I nod.

K works the horse a little on the ground, circling him, yielding him. Panache is quick and responsive in a way that horse people call soft. This is a good thing.

Panache stands quietly as K saddles him. He doesn’t flinch as the girth is tightened. K rides him across the paddock, walking and trotting. Panache moves nicely. He has a steady forward trot, a brisk walk. We watch them canter up the hill. The transition from trot to canter is smooth. ‘Would you like to ride him?’ K asks as he halts beside us. I nod, ‘Yes please.’ I’m surprised at how willing I am to do this. I’m not noted for loving getting on strange horses, but something about this feels very right.

K saddles up another horse, Panache’s paddock companion Rosie. We ride together down the paddock, through a gate and into the next paddock, just walking. Panache and I are at the back. He follows along steadily. His stride is long and comfortable. I ask for a trot and he willingly gives it. We trot up the hill. He looks across to the bush but goes steadily forwards. We pass Rosie and he doesn’t miss a beat. At the top of the hill, we pause. Rosie comes up beside us. ‘You just sold your horse,’ I say to K. I can’t stop smiling. K smiles back. (Later, his daughter tells me they’re pleased that Panache is going to me. I bask a little in the idea of being considered a good home for this horse they have long loved.) I’m already in love with him.

We turn the horses and head back down to where Lisa is walking up towards us. ‘I just bought a horse,’ I say to her, unable to keep the grin off my face. She grins back. ‘Good choice,’ she says.

We talk a little about the logistics of money and horse changing hands as we unsaddle. It’s all so easy, so companionable. Back at the farmhouse we drink tea and talk more.

Lisa and I drive away. We go to see the other horse because I had already arranged that we would do so. She’s a sweet little Arabian mare, a stunning horse, but I very quickly realise she is far too green (inexperienced) for me. I’m happy to have a horse with more years to his name, less flashy, more workmanlike. The little Arab will be a great horse in the future, but there are many hours of work ahead to turn her into a solid and reliable riding horse. I don’t want a project at this stage; I want an equine partner I can get on and do things with now. I’m glad we came to see this second horse because she confirms that Panache is the right choice for me right now. We thank the girl for showing us the Arab and head for home.

‘It was worth the trip,’ I say as we travel along the highway.

‘Sure was.’

I drive home buzzing.

So, in a few days, I will drive back with my horse float and pick up Panache. I’ll bring him home, settle him in and begin what I hope will be a long and happy partnership. For now, I feel like a five-year-old kid on about the twentieth of December.

Thanks for reading,

Jill