The End of the Journey

It’s official: Champagne has a new home.

When we moved to Georgia we knew we would only be here for about six months, so there was a lot of pressure to find a new home for Champagne, just in case we couldn’t bring him to the next place. And I’ll be honest, I wasn’t nearly as good about advertising as I should have been: that crap is exhausting, and I just wasn’t getting the results I had hoped for. So I hemmed and hawed and delayed because Champagne was underweight, or because I needed new riding videos of him, or because he just wasn’t as fit as he was in October. All were true, but I think I was holding on to this idea that maybe, just maybe, I could keep him for a little while longer.

And then I learned that our next station was Hawaii.

To my everlasting shame, I threw a temper tantrum for two days.

I know what you’re thinking, because it’s the same thing that everyone has been saying: “Oh, Hawaii. That must be a terrible struggle for you.” And you’re right: this is a great thing, and it’s totally worth celebrating. But it meant that there was no way Champagne was coming with us. We knew from day one when I adopted him that he would need a forever home that wouldn’t be with me, but I think I fell just a little bit in love with him.

It makes sense: when you dedicate that much time and effort to building a relationship with someone, of course you’re going to get attached. And I think that no matter how much they try to stop it, most good trainers still fall in love with every horse one way or another. It makes it hard to sell, but I think the silver lining is that if you love a horse, you’re going to be invested in their future, and you’ll do whatever you can to find the right home for them. But that takes time, effort, and a surprising amount of emotional fortitude. After all, sifting through message after message from people who claim to be interested in your horse and want to come do a test ride but never follow through is discouraging and exhausting. So after a while you just sort of expect things to fall through.

Which is why this was so surprising to me.

I was out at the barn, just about to go for a ride, when a woman walked in with three little girls, looking to maybe do lessons for them. Her husband is military, and she decided that even though he still has over a decade of service left with the army, it was time that she and the girls settled in one place. She was talking to one of the barn moms, and she mentioned that at their last post she had leased a horse to ride, and she really wanted to get back into it again. And this mom, bless her heart, immediately pointed at Champagne and I and said, “Talk to her: she’s trying to find Champagne a new home.”

And she did.

I didn’t think much of it at first: after all, everything had fallen through up until then. But she said that she might come watch me ride him, and then she did. So once I was more or less done, I offered her my helmet and invited her to try him. And she got on, and they worked very well together. And she got off and said that she’d take him, but that she wouldn’t be able to buy him outright, and she wouldn’t be able to do much with him until the school year starts, because raising three girls is a full time job. Normally, that would be a bit of a red flag, but it was actually perfect for me: I wouldn’t be leaving until around that time, and I wanted to ride him up until about the last moment, and since I was looking to do anything from a free-lease to selling him outright, I was actually pretty flexible. All I cared about was finding him a good home, and maybe it was because the first thing she asked was if I really wanted to sell him or if I would miss him, but something about this felt good.

And then after that she started texting me about how much board was and whether or not it was full board or if she would have to feed once or twice a day (normally not a huge deal, until you’re chasing around three girls by yourself). And she started asking me about his medical history and what tack I could leave with her and what she needed to buy and what size saddle he was going to need. And she was taking all of this information and putting it together so that she could build her budget to fit his needs as well as her own, and then she asked for a good picture of him so that she could use it in a sale pitch for her husband.

This lady was following through, and she was doing it right. It was obvious that she was going to be in this for the long haul and she was going to make sure that Champagne got all the love and care that he deserved, and that was all I needed to know.

Plus, she also insisted on having some kind of a lease-to-own contract so that we would leave as little to chance as possible, and that was the cherry on top.

So world, meet Champagne’s new mom, Amanda.

I’m genuinely thrilled that she’s the one buying him.

Ever since she met him, Amanda has been out faithfully about once a week to ride and handle and get to know Champagne. She wanted to meet the farrier and meet the barn owner and get to know the people who are feeding him and picking up his poop.

And then this happened.

I could hardly believe it. My ridiculous thoroughbred who used to explode when he got overwhelmed has worked through enough kinks that he can be ridden as a performance horse by adults, but still be trusted to take on an adorable three year old in a pink skirt. I’m not saying that the girls can be let off the lunge line until they have a better idea of how to actually ride, but OMG, CHAMPAGNE IS GOING TO BE A KID’S HORSE!!!!!!

I’m so excited. And it still sort of blows my mind that this has all worked out.

Amanda likes him.

The girls are starting to like him.

And I can leave for the next place and be happy, because Champagne has his forever home.

WINNING.