My first horse was an Oldenburger-Hanoverian mare Anitte Stensgård aka Nitte. She taught me to ride - among other things. I loved her dearly, we trusted each other completely, and when I lost her when she was 23 three years old, I thought I'd never find a horse as wonderful as she was.
But I wanted a new horse. During following eighteen months I saw and rode several horses. There was actually nothing wrong with them, I just did´nt get that special feeling.
I wished to have an educated horse because without skills, time or money I had no resources to train a young horse. I wanted my horse to be courageous and strong enough to trail with me in the forest with no paths and to follow me unleashed like a dog. Just like my mare was.
But I was not looking for Nitte The Second. I knew if I did I would never find a horse for me.
One day a friend of mine called. She was training horses in a horse centre and told me, that there was a nice Finnhorse mare for sale, perfect for me. I wasn´t so sure at all: she was everything else but what I was looking for. She was only three years old and had spent her life as a "well cared decoration" on a farm with several other horses. She had had a saddle on her back three or four times and hadn´t liked it very much.
I still don't know why but I decided to drive several hundred kilometres to see a horse I did´nt want.
She was standing in the aisle, ready tacked for me. I looked at her – and there it was, the feeling I had been waiting for.
I got her home with me for a two weeks testing period. She was too young, too vivid, too unexperienced, still the feeling stayed in me, but I was hesitating...
Two days before I was supposed to make a decision I had a dream.
I was in Nepal at the hotel breakfast table. I had arrived in the midnight and was curious to see the view from the window. I saw fields and green mountains in the morning sun, and along a narrow path of a nearest mountain there was an unbroken line of colourfully dressed people mounting higher and higher. The waitress told me that on the top of the mountain there is a temple and people are pilgrims.
After my breakfast I went out wandering around in the mountains and suddenly saw a little ascetic, white stone temple. There was nobody else, I stepped in and as my eyes got used to the dusk I saw colourful paintings and statues, an altar, flowers... It was beautiful and peaceful. I spent there a long while just looking around.
As I came out I saw a young woman running to me looking very worried. She was a temple guide and told me, that I should not have gone in without a guide, because I was infidel. Therefor I should go back in with her for a purification ritual.
There I was again, in a dusk room, and suddenly it was full of people wearing colourful Nepalian traditional costumes, singing quietly and dancing around me. There were drums, rattles, flutes... and a smelling smoke filled the air. My sleeves were rolled up and somebody oiled my arms and head, and then – an old man walked Nitte in.
The man told me that meeting one's deceased horse was an essential part of the purification ceremony. Nitte looked so old and skinny but still somehow strong and her coat was shiny, and I thought everything is all right with her. She came straight to me, pressed her head against my chest and we talked shortly, just a few sentences. Then she turned around like in a hurry, her tail was swinging in the air, she glanced me over her shoulder – and then she was gone.
I woke up and was sure that I will remember in the morning what we said to each other. Of course I did´nt, but I felt really good. And I knew I had found my next horse.
- Nanna-
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