Many animals have played a big role in my life, Eastern Pearl one of them. In order to go forward with the story we have to go back a little.
I might have been a horse in one of my previous life. I love them. I love their smell, the way they are so intuitive and clever. Most of all I love their big hearts and they way they become one with whomever loves them.
Our family did not have the resources to support this “affliction” but it didn’t stop me. The day I turned 12 I took my birthday money and walked to the green grocer that was situated on the corner close to our house. They had a public telephone and a phone book. The name of the lady that owned the local riding school had been passed on to me and armed with this information I looked her up in the phonebook.
I remember it was early afternoon when I first called her. Later I would learn that she took a nap in the afternoon from 2pm to 4pm and calling her at this time was seen as an intrusion but on this day, for some unknown reason, she took the call. That was where it all started. She was kind enough to offer me a lift to the stables once a week if I was waiting outside her gate for her at 4 pm sharp. No problem. I walked the 4 km to her house with a smile on my face. I basically lived for the once a week lessons at the stables, doing odd jobs during the week to fund my obsession.
Going to school, homework and trying to find cash to pay for the weekly riding session kept me very busy. I remember the riding lessons were in the region of R4,50 for an hour which was a fortune then but somehow I managed to pay my way. I didn’t have any riding gear, attending the lessons wearing a jean and my school shoes. I wasn’t the odd one out for that reason alone as the entire class was for beginners aged 6 so I also towered above everybody. Mrs Marcus, who owned Windrush Stables, was a very strict lady. No nonsense and would address us in the best English at all times but you could feel the undercurrent of impatience when we were rough with her horses. She must have had a soft spot for me (very well hidden) but thinking back she made a lot of adjustments to her busy routine to accommodate me. For one I didn’t have a riding hat and she made loaned me one. It was the best feeling putting that hat on..it felt like a crown, I swear. My weekly lessons were the highlight of my life and when I couldn’t attend for lack of funds or maybe being ill I spent my time moping around being a pain in my family’s butt. I progressed in my riding and continued being horse crazy throughout my high school years.
There were some beautiful horses at the stables and I always went round to give each one a carrot before I left the yard. One of them was a grey thoroughbred standing 16.2 hh and his name was Eastern Pearl. He was majestic. Proud and very tall he stood, patiently waiting for his treat every time and I fell head over heels in love with him.
I look at little girls that come to my stables today and how they profess their love for all the oldies in my stables and I remember how I felt. I will never take that for granted as it is something you just can’t explain. I have been there…
Eastern Pearl was off the track and he had gotten a second chance at a career in showing with Mrs Marcus. She is very well known in the showing circles and had an eye for good confirmation so him being in her yard made him an exceptional speciment.
Unfortunately he had pulled a tendon in his front leg whilst racing and although he had had surgery the injury started showing when he had to do any sort of extended leg work.
I remember being about 14 years old when I arrived at the stables one day and found his stable empty. I couldn’t spot him in any of the paddocks and when I asked Mrs Marcus she told me he had been rehomed. I was heartbroken. She explained to me that the yard was run with the money that she generated from teaching and bringing on young horses for sale. Eastern Pearl had an injury and could not generate any income but she had found him a good home where he would live his life out as a pleasure horse with no strain being put on his leg. Whilst I was very sad I accepted her explanation but the following weeks were very hard for me. The agreement with the new owner was that she could have him for pleasure riding but should she fall upon hard times or be cured of the horse bug the horse will be returned to the care of Mrs Marcus. This is where I learnt my first lesson in keeping and caring for horses. Make sure you have a watertight agreement when you re home an animal.This lesson would stay with me for the rest of my life.
I progressed to a higher level in my riding and had even been given my first pair of jods and second hand boots. My word, I felt so smart going to the stables all decked out in the correct riding attire, life was good. Mrs Marcus was a steady beacon in my life. She taught me many life lessons in a time when my life was very unstable. Our family was going through hard times. My dad worked on the mine, he was the breadwinner and my mom suffered from what would later be diagnosed as bi polar, but in those days there was no information on the disease. There were good days and bad days but the bad seemed to be more than the good. The horses saved me.
As I improved in riding I got the opportunity to work some of the horses that were not used for schooling. My visits to the stables became more frequent and the escape from a real sad home environment was a relief.
One afternoon, approx 4 years after I started riding, I visited a neighbouring stable yard with a friend. She knew I loved horses and wanted to show me hers. Their stables were situated on the mine property where my dad worked and too my delight I immediately spotted Eastern Pearl in one of the paddocks. Although much thinner and looking a little haggard I immediately knew it was him. They say horses never forget and I can attest to the fact that this is true. He knew me.
I couldn’t wait to get back to Mrs Marcus to tell her I had seen him. In my naive way I didn’t even consider that my information would open up such a can of worms. Mrs Marcus went to check on her horse, found him in a state of emaciation and in the same day she fetched her horse box and loaded him. The next time I arrived back at the stables he was back in his old stable, still looking a little worse for wear but on the up and up. Another lesson learnt. When you entrust a living being in good trust to somebody they better honour their commitment or there would be consequences. Even today I have the same outlook.
My life settled back into racing to the stables everyday to see Eastern Pearl. As soon as he became fit for work I became his designated rider. My word did that horse have attitude! Not a day went by that I didn’t fall off. I swear I spent more time in the dust than I did in the saddle. Mrs Marcus watched the daily show and never said a word about my falls and tantrums . That’s where I learnt another life lesson. Never give up.
Despite being dirt poor my parents somehow managed to scrape together enough money to pay stabling for Pearl. When I think back I wonder how they managed but I also know the rates were greatly reduced by a lady that took pity on me. Whatever it was it all came together making magic happen.My first horse…well, sort of but good enough for me.
I matriculated and then had to make a plan to keep my horse whilst I was studying. He moved around with me for many years , I met wonderful people through him and forged great friendships. We went through some pretty tight times but I never gave up. Stabling was my first priority and everything else was paid thereafter.Four years later I finished my studies and the moment I earned my first pay check as a teacher I brought him back to Mrs Marcus. Although I was earning a salary of R795 per month as a teacher I paid my stabling bill even before I put petrol in my car. By now Pearl was too old to ride. His tendon would give him problems and we always had to be very careful when it flared up. He became my potplant and when I moved to Sun City I made the decision to keep him stabled with the person that I trusted the most with him. My new boyfriend was roped into helping pay for his stabling, hence the remark that he has been paying for my horses since 1988. True story.
Whenever I came to see my parents I would visit Pearl and he would greet me in his usual way, head butting me for his carrots, sniffling through my pockets.
He was born on the 9 September 1969. All racehorses share the same birthday which is 1 August, if I remember correctly, in the year they are born but I had his records and I knew his real date of birth.
I met him when I was 13 and on the 15 September 1991 Mrs Marcus called me to tell me she had put him to sleep. His leg had flared up again and he couldn’t stand. She made the decision on my behalf as she knew it would have been too difficult for me. Briony was born 9 days later and I often think I exchanged one angel for another in September 1991. He was 22 years old at the time and I knew him for 14 years. The day she called me I sang the song Forever Young to him in my mind.
‘Forever Young, I wanna be forever young
do you want to live forever? Forever young…’
That was the song I used to sing to him when we went on outrides and we were returning home with the sun setting perfectly on the horizon, flanked by his two ears. I would belt the chorus out and his white ears would flick forward and back listening to me.
When I close my eyes I remember us like that.
We were forever young.
I hope every horse loving little girl finds her Eastern Pearl and has many adventures with him, learning life lessons about falling off and getting back in the saddle immediately, finding the companionship and love that I had found. Many life lessons later, sharing secrets with him that he never told anybody else he still holds a spot captive in my heart.I am much older now but these memories are very close to my heart. As humans our lives are shaped by the people and animals that leave their mark. Today, I am me, because I have had such wonderful role models in my life.
