As we talked, I said that I wished we had taken a photo, but then we commented that we have an image in a safe place — in our minds. We can share it from there just as if we were looking at a piece of paper.

Rose was an adventurer, a horseman of the type that only shows up once in your lifetime, and was characterized by a hardy grace. A cousin shared that from Rose he learned to “get on, hold on, and go on,” and if you could hear the hair-raising tales of her blazing trails through the North Carolina back country, you’d know he was right. You can’t capture that in a photo — except in your head.

I’m appreciative of long-time friends. Gail and I have stayed friends over a span of about 20 years. This past year, Gail’s old mare Vinaigrette (a favorite of mine) passed away. Gail felt rather than buy a perfect horse, she’d find one that needed another chance at life. So she adopted an off-the-track Thoroughbred mare to go along with the other Thoroughbred mare they had adopted.

Gail and her husband (a novice horseman) both work full-time jobs, have a son who is a senior in high school and plays sports, and twice a day take care of the horses that are boarded about 15 minutes from home. Riding isn’t particularly rewarding at this stage, since the two horses are bonded to each other, and neither one is well-enough trained to have great emotional control. (I’m sure you get the picture.)

Nonetheless, they ride every day. I asked Gail how she does it. She said she never asks the question, “Are we going to ride today?” She just assumes they are. She said that if she asked the question, there would be too many days she’d have some excuse. She knows that making progress with these two young mares requires consistency, and if she wants to make a difference in their lives, she has to stick with it.

I’ve also been impressed (as you know if you’ve been reading this blog for long) by the trainers who have taken the Extreme Mustang Makeover challenge (see http://www.myhorse.com/blogs/maureen_gallatin/september_2008/index.aspx). These horsemen (not all professionals) take a wild Mustang home and 100 days later compete to see who has done the most thorough training. It’s an exciting competition to watch, and really inspiring to talk to the trainers. For many of them, this was a life-changing event.

One trainer, Byron Hogan, was being interviewed on his way out of the arena. He said that six weeks earlier, he was ready to bring the horse back and to tell the organizers that the horse would never be safe. And then he remembered all the people who had never given up on him, so he knew he couldn’t give up on this horse. He didn’t, and he won second place in his division.

So where are my musings taking me today? Back to reminding myself of Rose’s advice — to “get on, hold on, and go on.” And to keep on going on. To show up, and stick with it. The journey is worth the effort.

P.S. If you even think you might like to train a Mustang, head over to the website for the Extreme Mustang Makeover (http://www.extrememustangmakeover.com/applications.php). There’s still time to sign up for a competition in Murfreesboro, TN (entries close June 1). They are selecting 100 trainers for the riding horse category and 25 youth trainers for the yearling groundwork competition. You don’t have to adopt the horse that you train. It’s a great opportunity to make a difference in a horse’s life — and maybe in your own.

My husband and I don’t make a big deal about birthdays. Since we don’t have any little kids to throw a party for, we note each other’s birthday with a card and maybe dinner, but that’s about it. We’re fortunate in being able to spend lots of time together, so it really isn’t any big deal

On my birthday last Saturday, Rex had to work until about 2, and then he hurried to get ready for a rehearsal. He plays French horn in an orchestra about an hour away. A friend nearby also plays horn, so they ride together. I wished them both a good trip and good playing, and I went back to my other activities.

Imagine my surprise when Rex and Laura came home, Rex carrying a beautiful bouquet of roses. It seems that on the drive, Laura asked Rex what he was getting me for my birthday. He said he had a nice card, but it had been a hectic week and...

Laura has a really sweet way of nudging people into doing things they’d really like to do anyway. I could imagine her talking with Rex, noting that they could change their route on the way home if he had in mind to buy me flowers. She can do that without sounding critical or bossy. She just adds a little oomph to a good idea.

I thought about how many nice aspects there were to that gift. It was unexpected, very generous (a dozen!), something we can both enjoy all week. But beyond that, was the gift of two buddies conspiring to do something nice. If you could have seen their faces when they got out of the car. They were like two little kids who thought they had just done something really cool. And they had!

The roses are gorgeous. They are just now opening to that prime stage where you wish they would stay forever — beyond the bud and not fully unfolded. And the gift has reminded me to give a little oomph to good ideas — especially if they involve doing something nice for a friend.

Most of us enjoy the company of horse friends - people who love horses, who understand and encourage us. So it’s natural to want support from them. And, truth be known, our peers exert a lot of pressure on us, much as they did in high school.

Attend a clinic and listen to the people in the stands. Most are trying to learn. But others are trying to convince themselves (and whoever will listen) that they are right. In fact, they don’t know if they are on the right track. So they’re lobbying for their position and then taking a poll, hoping for reinforcement.

We all want to be be right. The problem is that discovering or learning “right” is hard work, so “herd think” often takes the place of real knowledge. If enough people agree, popular opinion is presumed to be truth.

Recall myths the horse world once accepted as true — “All horses need oats,” “Don’t let the horse know you’re afraid or he’ll take advantage of you,” “Feeding treats will teach a horse to bite.” Those bywords became accepted because they were repeated so often.

I’ve been aware of this phenomena for years, mostly because I don’t fit into herd think easily. I’m not contrary. I just tend to look through a different lens — and I see a different picture. I’m always amazed at how artists notice what a less visually oriented person misses. I’m not an artist, but I have my own brand of insight. And, because I know there’s often more than one “right” way, I’m less threatened by not fitting smoothly into the group think.

But it makes situations awkward, particularly when it comes to talking about horses or training. When I met John Lyons (about 1987) and talked with people who started training his way, they were frustrated. They were thrilled that the training worked, but they were disheartened by friends who insisted they were going to get themselves killed by using only a snaffle bit, or by teaching a horse to drop his head (after all, they reasoned, when a horse drops his head, he’s preparing to buck). In addition, John advocated that with the right help, they could train their own horse. It was definitely threatening to people who had convinced themselves that only horse trainers could train.

Fast forward to 2009 where John and many other trainers have done a great job of changing that older mindset. Ordinary people are realizing that every ride trains a horse, and even if they send a horse to a trainer for a few months, it’s up to them to maintain his training when he comes home. Non-pros are adopting mustangs and competing them successfully, and lots of everyday riders pack up on weekends to go camping with their horses. It’s mainstream now to know that asking a horse to drop his head is one way to help him to calm down. The herd think of 2009 is different from the herd think of 1987.

But people haven’t changed. As I consult with trainers and other professionals in the horse industry, I hear their frustration. They feel pressed to deliver the new herd think service, whether it’s bitless bridles and treeless saddles, this training method, or that shoeing method. As always, there’s tension between doing what they know and doing what is popular.

I assure them that tension can be a good thing. We should consider why we do something, especially when it comes to training.

Usually, the more easily someone feels threatened, the more important herd think is to him or her. It happens in all areas of life, not just horses. I like to encourage trainers and others to listen to it — evaluate if there’s a better way to do what you’re doing — but don’t let it push you around.

Lots of techniques we term inappropriate today were all the rage once. And many of the trainers who adopted them tell me they had reservations the first time they did it. But eventually they let herd think convince them (especially when pushed by clients who threatened to go to a trainer down the road). Bitting techniques, such as tying a horse’s head around to the side, come to mind. Years later, the tide of herd think changed, and that training practice has fallen out of favor.

It’s hard to take your own path. But you don’t have to be like everyone else. Ansel Adams became famous for his black and white photography of nature. He resisted the trend to include people in his photos or to use vibrant color. Appealing to the masses wasn’t his purpose. As a result, he saw what others weren’t looking at. And photography is the better for his not being bullied by herd think.

If you decide to go your own way, don’t feel you have to convince others. You don’t have to change their thinking. Just do what you believe is right.

Other people don’t necessarily know what’s best for you, your family, your business, or your horse. If you’re trying to make it in a business, be the best at that service. Don’t try to be like everyone else. They’re not all making it. Great people often do their own thing.

In the lead up to the Kentucky Derby, the sentimental favorite was General Quarters, owned by a 75-year old Louisville man, a former biology teacher/school principal. The announcers were impressed that Tom McCarthy was owner, trainer, and groom. In days leading up to the race, people came from every corner of Louisville to see the horse. They snapped endless photos with Tom, and the whole home town was rooting for him to win. General Quarters came in 12th, but in anybody’s book, Tom McCarthy is a winner.

The race itself was the stuff of dreams, with an amazing come-from-behind win by a 50-to-1-odds horse. But my favorite memory is of what happened after the race, the amazing ride to the winner’s circle. Jockey Calvin Borel was euphoric. You want to see what unbridled emotion is like? Nothing phony about his reaction to the win.

What I thought most memorable was the moment he kissed a rose and tossed it toward heaven, in recognition of his parents who have passed away. I’m sure there’s a story behind his comment, “I just wish they could have seen what I've accomplished in my life.” I thought, “Isn’t that what we all want, recognition that we have amounted to something?” Few of us are brave enough to say it.

I’ve watched the video of Calvin’s ride to the winner’s circle a number of times, and each time, I see something else I love about it. One of the most amazing things is to realize that he’s bouncing around, screaming in delight, and waving his arms while sitting on a three-year-old Thoroughbred. (Had he been riding my 15-year-old Thoroughbred, he’d have been off to the races again!) That young horse had just run the Kentucky Derby, and here he went along like a seasoned trail horse. His trainer did a good job prepping him for the race, but whoever did the basic training did a great job, too.

The horse who most impressed me didn’t race that day. He was the “pony horse” who came alongside the winner. Talk about good emotional control! That horse never made a wrong move, no matter the people or horses in his path, the noise and commotion, his rider busy with another horse and interacting with Calvin. Impressive.

It’s been a number of years since I watched the Derby, but I’m glad I didn’t miss this one. I want to be more like Calvin Borel, more free to express what I’m thinking (though unless I win the Kentucky Derby, don’t expect me to be as animated), and I also want to be more like the pony horse, calm, cool, and right there, ready to be the steady for someone who needs me.