Etwas Besonderes

Reyansh, the cold-blood horse dealer from Valedale, had called that morning. He had a gelding — already a bit older — but absolutely safe and well-trained. The horse had been with him for over a year, and no one had shown interest. Reyansh asked if we could take him in at Meadowland. For him, there was only one other alternative… and he didn’t even want to think about it. Neither did I. So I brought the horse to the ranch. I decided to ride him immediately and took him into the arena.

Jamie: “Hey Ma’am, who or what are you riding there?”

Gillian: “Sir, it’s not proper to address a lady from behind like that! I’m riding a Black Forest gelding named Antino.”

Later, outside Antino’s stall.

Jamie: “Is he here for corrective training? What’s his issue?”

Gillian: “His issue is that people think he’s too old. No one wants him at sixteen… no one except me.”

Reyansh stopped by and explained that Antino had an excellent dressage education. I wanted to test that. He moved like clockwork and mastered every element brilliantly. Jamie joined us at the arena fence.

Gillian: “Doesn’t he move fantastically? Reyansh just told me he competed in dressage.”

Jamie: “Looks like he loves the challenge. Seems like he’s really enjoying himself.”

Reyansh: “Antino was the first and only draft horse on Jorvik to compete successfully in medium-level dressage. Despite his size, he had elegance and impulsion.”

Jamie: “He still does. Look at how willing he is. Some younger horses could learn a thing or two from him.”

A few days later, a potential buyer visited Meadowland.

Jamie: “Gillian, this is Sir Modde. He’s looking for something special for his shows.”

I immediately thought of Antino and presented him. Sir Modde barely glanced at him.

Sir Modde: “Yes, something eye-catching. Not some worn-out nag like this one. I need a young, dynamic horse.”

I thought: what an arrogant snob. He hadn’t even looked properly at Antino, let alone listened to what he could do.

It made me sad and furious that such a valuable, dedicated horse was dismissed and mocked because of his age. So I decided to act. I entered Antino and myself in a charity dressage competition. Proudly, I showed Jamie the registration.

Gillian: “Look what I did.”

Jamie: “What?! You entered a competition with Antino? I can’t wait to see that.”

I could hardly believe it myself. My last competitions had been as a teenager — and that was the age of most of my competitors now. Then we started. Antino moved like a Swiss watch. The atmosphere — which he clearly remembered well — seemed to energize him even more. We delivered a flawless test. And we actually won first place. That was more thanks to him than to my slightly rusty dressage skills. During the victory lap, the audience applauded wildly — and Antino’s name was called out. Apparently, not everyone had forgotten him. Many still remembered him from his glory days. I had goosebumps all over, overwhelmed with joy that Antino was being honored like this. He loved it too — showing a perfectly collected canter in rhythm with the music. Outside the arena, Sir Modde was waiting.

Sir Modde: “Gillian, I’ve reconsidered. I’ll buy this horse. Age doesn’t matter.”

Gillian: “You’re right, Sir Modde. Age doesn’t matter. But I will not sell you this horse. He’s something special — and he deserves a very special owner. Which you most definitely are not.”

We left him standing there and walked to the trailer. And I couldn’t wait to get Antino home — to reward him with a few extra treats.