I dont remember exactly when I first met this horse but I remember how it felt. It was like falling in love, or flying, or staring at the sky on a balmy tropical night. He was a horse that you just had to stare at and admire, not just for his glossy coat and fine head but because of his charisma. If he were a person he would have been as photogenic as David Beckham, as pretty-boy handsome as Jon Bon Jovi, as sexy as Valentino.
When I first rode him at the riding school I was warned not to use my legs at all, and I never did in our whole time together because this was a horse you could ride with your breath, with your intention, by the slightest shift in your seat. I saw him jump like a stag with Kelly, who worked with him for years, and who I always knew in my heart was his Special Person. I never minded being second best later, it didnt matter.
I saw him career around the arena with a terrified girl on board, head high, full pelt, looking for an exit, but I also saw him take small children for Pony Rides, treading carefully and calmly with flicked ears and soft eyes.
I offered to buy him but was refused, when he was later sold to someone else I cried myself dry but I waited and hoped........... and then a year later he was mine.
He was kicked out of the Equestrian College he had gone to with his new owner, had acquired the labels 'dangerous' 'unstoppable' 'undisciplined' along the way, but creeping out of the horsebox that day came a shadow of Wizard, unwilling to be caught (it took me a year to be able to walk up to him with a headcollar and put it on him in the field) frightened and suspicious. I put him out in a 35 acre field with 20 other horses and let him be just a horse, perhaps for the first time in his life.
Every day we got a little closer, as the trust grew we learned about each other, the day I took the bit out of his mouth and rode him in a Hackamore his head lowered by a good 6 inches, and every fibre of his body said "Thank You". He could still jump over the Moon, as fast and accurate as an arrow but I was learning fast- he hated Shows, just because he was good at Showjumping didnt mean he enjoyed it, what was important to me, Rosettes or what I was building with this amazing horse? So we rode away from the ring forever, we never looked back.
I somehow convinced my family to move to a farm in the last wild corner of Surrey in 2006 and brought him home with his best friend, my Irish Cob Archer. Their deep and devoted friendship was beautiful to see, they would graze nose-to-nose, swish flies off of each other on sunny days, munch hay on my yard together on cold afternoons. Wizard was the scary henchman to Archer's implacable Alpha, he kept the geldings in line with a wave of a back hoof, if it let fly it was always with the same pin-point accuracy of his jumping skills.
He transformed himself from the unpredictable 'dangerous' firecracker to the horse you would ride with a newcomer to the yard, or with someone who was nervous of hacking, or, memorably for me, with no saddle or bridle, just breath and trust and impeccable paces in the school, proud of himself, proud that he was trusted.
Every step was a poem, ridden or loose he moved with the effortless grace of running water, out on a gallop he accelerated away like a curling wave, leaving far bigger horses behind in his dust. We healed each other, Wizard and I, I put my trust in his keeping and he in return made me feel fabulous and worthy of such fire and beauty in my life. One incident stands out- out hacking with friends someones youngster lost his head and went tearing past us plunging and bucking, eventually throwing his rider. Wizards normal reaction to this was to tense up, set his neck against me and bolt (it had happened quite a few times) but we had come a long way, been together a long time and I went with my gut. I threw the reins away, down onto his neck, and said "Make the right choice Wizard"
He stopped, turned his head around and looked at me, dropped his head and let out a long, long breath. And we walked home at the front of the ride, leading the way, he strutting like a stallion on the first day of Spring, me with tears pouring down my face.
The cancer that ultimately took him from me first robbed him of his voice (you cant whinny through a tracheotomy) then his legendary topline, then came the day when everything he ate came pouring out of his nose and the horse that wouldn't be caught became the horse that wouldnt leave the yard. His way of telling me he had had enough. I was there at the end, as was his best friend Archer, how many of us will be able to boast the same?
My Soul Horse, my childhood dream come true, my healer and guide I hope there is a wild windy mountain somewhere where you flicker like a flame.
