An interesting development in my horse search transpired Sunday night. Last Sunday, that is, the night before I had to report back to duty at school, setting my alarm for a brutal 5:15ish time, knowing that I’d probably snooze it when the sweet little tune on my cell phone rousted me out of dreamworld.

I somehow missed a call. There was a voicemail from a number I did not recognize. I was expecting a phone blast from my principal something to the effect, “Good Evening Teachers! We’re looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for our PTA-sponsored breakfast and 8:30 staff meeting. . . etc., etc.” But the area code was 818, not the 626 school area code.

I listened to the message and my heart raced. The owner of the chestnut Thoroughbred who had pulled the rug out from under me a couple of weeks prior by denying my request for a trial and then telling me she had another “cleaner” offer from a family from Nevada that she was going to go with left a syrupy sweet recording.

In essence, she said the other deal didn’t work out and her horse was still on the market, would I be interested. She cited the family buying a house and backing out of the horse deal because it was not the right timing to buy a horse while buying a house.

Did I bother to tell you that I was not aware that there was another offer and we even got to the point of me calling a vet in her area to set up a pre-purchase appointment time? She was supposed to check her schedule and let me know. Instead when I heard from her next it wasn’t to confirm a suitable vet time. Via text message she said (I’m paraphrasing): Thanks for playing. I already have an offer. A trial period is not acceptable. Sucker!

I was in the dark there was an offer on the table. She withheld info from me and did not allow me to counter offer or rescind my request for a trial. That is what was frustrating. I could have paid well above her asking price (not that I want to part ways with my hard-earned $).

My goal was to go to bed early on Sunday night, like 9 p.m. This new information that the big red horse could potentially be mine again put me in a tizzy.

Pro: He was such a calm, steady horse with a nice attitude.

Con: He is a cribber.

Pro: He is only wearing front shoes.

Con: He was resistant to get to pick up the left lead canter.

Pro: He jumps well for having little experience.

Con: He has little jumping experience.

Pro: I really like the horse.

Con: I really like, not LOVE the horse.

Pro: He could be a diamond in the rough and a good catch at a reasonable price point.

Con: He could be a dud that I would be stuck with, all the while my dream horse is off with someone else.

My husband was not home and I thought I’d play it cool, not revealing the latest development with him until morning. I don’t like having “deep” conversations of the decision making variety when I’m tired and when I’m probably not thinking clearly. And when I’m jetlagged.

He came home and I was already tucked in. We chatted for a few minutes about the dance class I missed because I was hoping to get to bed early.

“You’ll never guess what happened!” I told him everything.

So much for not bringing it up.

I was very annoyed by how the owner withheld information from me, and even more annoyed by how fake friendly she sounded in her message. I had the same kind of reaction to hearing this message as I did to a certain guy who really did me wrong back in my dating days. He strung me along and strung me along for the better part of a couple years. When I finally extricated myself from the situation, it was a personal victory. It sucked, but I was healthier.

Months later he reached out to me again. I had no butterflies or sparks left. Just a scarred place that made me strong and matter-of-fact in my response to him. Thanks, but no thanks. Have a nice life.

We did not solve anything–my husband and I–regarding the chestnut gelding. I declared that I needed to wait, think about it and consult with my trainer.

I was unable to sleep until after midnight, as I played out various scenarios that could take place knowing the horse could potentially be mine. That stupid alarm.

The first day of school with meetings, room preparation, and such went just as I expected it would. We teachers compared notes on our summer travel and all moaned about how, “I’m still not ready. My classroom’s a mess.”

I received a text from the chestnut’s owner reiterating the voice mail from the day before. “So NOW she wants to talk to me.”

I still wasn’t clear on how a family from out of state who had set up three consecutive days of horse shopping in California could make an offer on a horse and then suddenly realize that buying a house and buying a horse at the same time was not a simple matter. I speculated the horse did not pass the vet exam.

Knowing I was in the power position at this point felt good. I texted a response to the effect of letting her know I received both messages and it was my first day back at school and I would have to get back to her that night. (It did feel good to be the one doing the stringing along).

I left a voice mail for my trainer saying, “If you think this is a great horse and I should go for it in spite of the previous hassle, I am game, but part of me feels like something isn’t right in the situation. But I defer to your judgment. Tell me if I should make an offer.”

She responded that she felt something wasn’t right too and she didn’t like how things played out earlier and we should probably just move on.

And so, after typing in a few different versions–I decided not to give any reasons– I landed on a simple:

“Hi _______ (name of lady). Thanks for getting back to me. At this time I’m not interested in ____________ (name of horse). Sorry your other deal did not pan out how you hoped. Best wishes on finding a new home for him. :)”

That’s how it’s done. Simple and difficult all at once.

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Photo of Susan with her horse Knight

I'm Susan and this is my horse Knight. We have been a blogging team since 2015 and we're glad you're here. Tally ho!

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