I’ve been riding and around horses for as long as I’ve been walking. I was always trusting and loving every minute of it until March of 2012 when I was in an accident involving a horse.
The physical damage, although extensive, was nowhere near as bad as the psychological and emotional damage. I was diagnosed with PTSD, suffered from panic attacks, anxiety, depression, flashbacks, etc. I was barely able to be around horses, even years later, let alone comfortably ride. I lost the only part of myself that I was ever sure about ‒ a love for horses. I fell out of love and into fear and sadness for a lot of years.
Then in October of 2018 I came across a post from Southern Belle Thoroughbreds: [retired racehorse] Bank On Jon was in need of a home. Every day there were posts for horses being sold or rehomed, but for some reason I couldn’t shake the thought that I needed Bank On Jon. I watched people comment like crazy ‒ making times to go view him ‒ only to have him reposted multiple times. I knew something was going wrong and unable to get his pictures off my mind, I decided to reach out to go view him myself.
My friend and I drove to Fort Erie on a whim, having no idea what to expect. We knew right away why no one had scooped him up ‒ he was scared and dangerous. Kicking, pulling, stomping, panicking. I was waiting for my own feeling of panic as I walked closer to him … but it never happened. Every horse I’ve been around in the last six years had made me riddled with anxiety or worry, but I felt nothing but a need to help him. I clicked with him immediately, took the biggest leap of faith I had ever taken, and purchased him. I renamed him Titan and brought him home.
Throughout the first 3-6 months of having him I had multiple veterinarians, massage therapists, other boarders and farriers tell me he was a huge risk. I was told numerous times “Some horses are just broken”, “Some horses are just dangerous”, “Some horses can’t be fixed”. I heard the words permanently lame, unrideable, and euthanize, far too many times during those months.
Titan was reacting to panic the same way I had spent the last years. I understood, and so did he. He always saw me for everything I am and accepted me, damage and all. We spent every day working through panic, fear, and injuries ‒ both learning to trust and love again.
In September 2019, Titan badly injured his hip and leg in a mystery field accident. Unable to walk or get to water overnight, he started to colic. I was sure our time was going to be cut unbearably short and decided to call the vet to come euthanize him the next morning, giving him the night to see if he could pull through. I spent the entire night with him, begging him to hang on -‒ syringing water into his mouth, stretching his legs and massaging his stomach as he lay on the stall floor. The next morning he stood up, able to put weight on his leg. We x-rayed him up and down; multiple vets were brought out and completely mind-blown to find nothing wrong.
Titan is the most inexplicably resilient horse I have ever known. The only explanation the vets came up with was a dislocated hip, put back into place during the colic rolling movements. How he survived the colic, we have no idea. Any injury he has encountered (and there have been a LOT of them) he has healed better and faster than any of us can ever understand.
We have been together almost a year and a half now. We are not only comfortably walking, trotting, and cantering under saddle, we have started jumping, against all the odds. We are trusting each other more and more every day and building a bond that is truly unlike anything I’ve ever had. He knows when I need him to help me through something and always pushes me to try harder, trust more and love deeper.
We have found our peace in each other. We have the same personality and can always light each other up. I feel truly whole, happy and at ease for the first time in so long, all because of Titan.
The love horses show us is so healing. I’m so lucky to have found my heart horse.