Of Miles and Love

Eclipse came to me in 2012. My trainer at the time needed money and had too many horses. I had been leasing him and training for endurance. When she said, “I want you to own him. You two are a good team,” I didn’t really need  another horse. I already had one I was happy with. That said, how could I possibly resist such a gentleman and black Arabian beauty? I was already smitten.

It took six months until we truly became a bonded pair. Though he had always been kind and polite, he tested me constantly in the beginning: drifting off the rail in the arena, refusing water crossings, hesitating at obstacles on the trail. Before he let me all the way in, he wanted to be absolutely certain that I had both solid leadership and a kind heart. Once that trust was established, he became the most wonderful, loyal and steadfast partner I had ever known.

I remember our first endurance ride like it was yesterday. In the middle of the night before the race, he untied himself. My mentor and I were asleep in a tent next to the trailer when we heard a commotion. Good luck finding a black horse on a moonless night! I finally spotted him calmly wandering around the other trailers and tents, simply exploring, causing no mischief. I laughed, tied him again, and went back to sleep. 

Eclipse always had a need for speed, and so did I. In that, we were a perfect match. We would go for hours, galloping up the mesas near our barn, often looking out over Tijuana, enjoying the view of the city and the Pacific Ocean, and making me crave tacos and margaritas. On the beach, we flew. I will never forget the feeling of running as fast as we could with the waves crashing beside us, happiness bubbling up in my body like champagne.

He truly won my heart during a lesson when he tripped at a fast canter. He went down, and I went flying. In the corner of my eye, I could see him doing everything possible not to fall on me. He ended up on his back, the saddle digging into his spine, leaving him with a permanent scar. All I could do was get up, dust myself off, and thank him over and over. If anything sealed the bond between us, that was the moment.

There were countless other times he protected me. Once, I was riding bareback without a helmet, when my friend’s horse spooked, threw her, and bolted past us like a bat out of hell. Any other horse would have panicked. Eclipse stood still, calm as could be, waiting for my cue. This is who he has always been: a horse who takes care of his person. I can never thank him enough.

About three years ago, he bowed a tendon. At twenty-eight, he never fully recovered. Our riding days ended, but our partnership did not. For a long time, I ponied him from my other horse. Later, we went on runs together. Now, we hike our valley every day. The routine has changed, but we still enjoy the view, still move together, still feel proud when we can run up a hill.

Since he came into my life, I have seen many horses leave this earth. Knowing that Eclipse is nearing the end of his third act fills me with sadness. But I will be with him until he crosses the rainbow bridge. I pray every day that it will not be soon, and when the time comes, I will be at his side, just as he has been at mine time and time again. Looking back at the many years we have shared and the miles we have conquered, I am grateful to say - it  has been one hell of a ride!