I’ve never been adept at saying goodbye to anyone, neither in person nor on the phone. Some people are very adept – they know exactly when to cut the conversation off and send the person on their way.

Pete was convinced that it would not rain this morning; in fact, he was so convinced that we planned to do a morning ride. We did do a morning ride, even though it was soon raining hard. I was not dressed for this ride, so I got chilled.

I rode Tyra. My thoughts turned inward. I thought some about all the horse people who moved, the list including Vicki Talbot who owned Hunar, The LeMays, Cathy Foxley, Brandy (who originally owned Hunar), Susan Dent, and many, many others.

Deb and the posse

A few days ago, a horsey mainstay left the area. Deb Moore and her husband Roy headed for Oklahoma. They got tired of high hay prices, the loss of trails due to development, and the increasingly bad weather. Deb was previously boarding 22 horses, on five acres.

I didn’t believe she was going. She kept saying one more year and well, this year was it. She and Roy took three horses with them, Monet’s Image and Monique (both dam and offspring Rocky Mountain horses). They also took Jack, Roy’s horse.

They, of course, sold their place and assisted the owners in finding homes for the boarders. I learned about the move when I was at the Alaska State Fair. Pete and I were pulling the recycling wagons and taking the recyclables to a common area. I wanted to tell Deb that doing this (that is, getting the recyclables recycled) was slowing down the rate at which the landfill cells were filling up.

Instead, we three talked about the upcoming move, and about her horses.

She is very hands on and confident about her abilities. I once watched her unload a trailer with eight horses. She’d just taken a group of kids out on a trail ride at Crevasse Moraine. She opened the trailer door and the horses one by one leapt out and went directly into the pen in which she kept most of the horses. She is most definitely a wrangler and maybe in a previous life was a cowboy.

Deb exercised horses at a racetrack in Oklahoma. I don’t know if she rode in a race. Deb also was in the military; I think in the Iraq war.

I always harbored the hope we’d become friends since our abilities did complement one another. I at the time fancied myself to be a good instructor and had considerable book knowledge. However, we were never able to bridge the difference divide.

She had one Icelandic in her riding string, a chestnut named Teddy. She had the kids ride him. He never reached his true potential. She told me someone in Wasilla purchased him.

Off went Deb. I am learning the world is a very small place. You never know who you will run into, or where you will run into them.

Next: 257. 9/19/23: Another Ride