I started riding when I was about 9 years old. My best friend introduced me to her trainer, as well as her grandmother who kept a horse (TC) at the barn. After two years, we all moved to a different barn due to drama with the trainer's family as well as some unsafe/careless practices going on in the barn. While I was sad to leave at the time, I am SO happy now that I moved to the barn I'm currently at. Upon moving to the new barn, I was offered the chance to take lessons on TC. I'm really not sure why anyone thought it was a good idea for me to ride this horse. He was an extremely spooky, green, and very hot Morgan. He was about 18 years old but hadn't but ridden much since he was 3. He had only ever been ridden hunt seat, and I had only ever ridden western. I somehow managed to stay on him, and started showing him. He had no headset, unreliable breaks, and a super speedy canter. However, I had a good time showing him even though we never won anything.
I showed TC for a couple years and never did really get him broke, nor did I ever successfully teach him how to pivot for showmanship. We had fun together though. His trot was like a jackhammer, and he would randomly give big spooks at lines in the dirt. He was terrified of anything white, chairs, and blankets. He was a handful, but sweet. I credit him with teaching me how to sit the trot and stay on a bolting/randomly spooking horse.
After showing TC for two years I got my own horse and stopped riding him as much. His owner moved to Vegas and he went with. He died of colic a few years ago. I wish I could ride him now and see if I could teach him anything. He taught me a lot, and I thank him for that. I also thank his owner for allowing me to ride him so much.
TC & I when I was eleven or twelve.