T h e o

I had lunch with Mary Midkiff on a beautiful Boulder day in August. I was nervous. It was that same sort of anticipatory anxiety that I get when I am called to the duty of driving a horse trailer full of expensive horses over a route I have never before driven. I had never really met an author before, besides my professors.

But, we had a big thing in common—horses—which made conversation easy. We talked about my thesis, her books and her work with her horses. Then, she told me about a horse she was training.

M: I’ve been working with another Theo. He’s very talented. He has a great personality. He’s bay with a star. He’s looking for a sensitive rider.

A: Oh (desiring groan). My favorite boys were bay with a star. This is the worst possible time for me to have a horse again.

M: You should come meet him.

A: (thinks to self) Gawd, what horse-loving religious studies scholar could pass up a horse named Theo?

I met him one Friday afternoon. He transformed under saddle. He was gorgeous. I was trying not to be in love. It wasn’t working.

I was invited to come and ride him. I came the next morning. I brought Nicole for a voice of sensibility. At this point I couldn’t see straight on the issue.

I watched as Mary warmed him up. I hadn’t ridden much since last fall. This meeting had potential to be disastrous. It wasn’t. It was lovely. We hit it off.

I felt giddy even at the slim .001% chance that I could have a horse again. I entertained all possibilities: another student loan, taking up a collection, eating Ramen.

I ached to have a horse of my own. That feeling, that partnership, is like nothing else in the human realm.

I called Dad. I had nothing to lose to ask him if he would buy his 24 year old daughter another horse. My birthday was coming up. He just laughed. He laughed so hard he dropped the phone. I took that as a ‘No.’

I called Mom, to run my thoughts past her, to see if I was too totally disillusioned by these crazy horse thoughts. She cautioned me against it. But then called me back the next morning:

Mom: Ali, I’ve been thinking about you and your horse decision….

Ali: Yeah, me too….

She tried to offer some suggestions to make it work. It was nice to have someone on my side, someone close who understood. I knew it was still a crazy dream. We ended up reminiscing about our other life with horses.

I had to think long and hard about this decision. Being practical in the face of longing is agony.