In Loving Memory of AQHA/APHA 28-Time World/Reserve Champion Shine My Zipper (1991-2016)
By: Erica Greathouse
Shine My Zipper, or “Homer” for those who knew him, was my once-in-a-lifetime horse. Throughout my career, I would hear stories about his past from his previous trainers, owners, and spectators. It’s common knowledge that while Homer was talented and his list of accomplishments was extensive, he wasn’t always the easiest horse to work with. Many people could tell stories about Homer: the good, the bad, and the often ugly things they had witnessed throughout his time in the show arena. But to me, from the moment I purchased him 15 years ago, he was always a superhero: invincible, bulletproof, and a wonder of the world that could outlast time.
Throughout our career together, we accomplished things I had only dreamed about before he was mine. Some of our rides were picture perfect and some others were not. He was notorious for acting like he was a ten-foot tall, fire-breathing dragon as he made a fool out of me, and a few innocent exhibitors in the arena. After his retirement in 2007, I knew in the back of my mind that he was going to age. However, the thought of him leaving this Earth was inconceivable. Unfortunately, unlike in the movies, where the superheroes always seem to dodge bullets and cheat imminent death, my superhero wasn’t able to fight off the deadly bout of colic that claimed his life on September 9th, 2016.
A few months ago, someone shared a quote with me and said that it perfectly described Homer and I. I hadn’t given it much thought, but ever since his sudden passing, I have been reading it over and over again.
Denny Emerson once said: “Great horses are not often easy horses. They have big egos and quirks and foibles. Horses of a lifetime do exist, but only for riders so skillful, tactful, and courageous that they can unlock and then reveal the brilliance of their equine partner.”
This quote has been echoing in my mind as I have tried to sort through the pieces of my broken heart and put together a mental scrapbook of all of the memories Homer and I made together. With all due respect to Mr. Emerson, although great horses most definitely have big egos and eccentric personalities, we are not the ones that make them great. They are the ones who make us, the humans lucky enough to throw a leg over their backs. Homer was great without me; I was just the young girl with big dreams lucky enough to have an equine partner who taught me how to be great.
When I first laid eyes on Homer at the 2000 APHA World Show, it was love at first sight. I immediately called home and told my parents about this horse that “looked like he was wearing Nikes, because he was floating on air when he loped.” Although it took a few years for my dream horse to become mine, I never stopped thinking about him.
I was a novice rider with not much show experience. Little did I know, the horse that I was begging to own was so far above my level that I would become a laughing stock to many who heard of our purchase. There was definitely some truth to that laughter, because the beginning of our time together was rocky to say the least. By the time I purchased Homer, he had made up his mind on the way a ride with him should go. I struggled to ride Homer the way he demanded to be ridden, and, in turn, he often made a fool out of me, both at the barn and in the show arena. Never one to give up, even though my pride was hurt at times, I sought to learn to ride him his way and how to decode his idiosyncrasies. Slowly but surely, with a lot of love, blood, sweat, tears, time, and plenty of Skittles, we started to become a team.
I could tell many stories about all of the prizes we won together after we finally clicked and the many times we took victory laps around the John Justin Arena with a neck ribbon wrapped around my once-in-a-lifetime horse’s neck, but that’s not what this story is really about. The true lesson that Homer taught me was that hard work, persistence, and love create results. This lesson is something that has stuck with me to this day and has translated to every aspect of my life.
After many years of success together, I was faced with another tough decision. Selfishly, I could have shown him forever. Showing him was a feeling I will never forget. To this day, I can still feel what it was like to navigate a Western Riding pattern with him and the sheer joy I felt each time he changed leads. However, in my heart, I knew that my best friend had nothing left to prove and deserved to graze in a big pasture and live out the rest of his days stress free. He taught me to let go and move forward. As I led him out to the pasture when he retired, I cried tears of sadness and tears of joy because I knew we had done what many had thought we would never do and our days together in the show arena were over.
After almost ten years of retirement, which included raising babies, mowing our pasture, and posing for pictures when his fans would come to visit, my best friend took a turn for the worst. As I sat with him in the vet clinic and looked into his eyes, years of memories came flowing back and I cried into his mane, just like I had done many times throughout the years when I would tell him my deepest darkest secrets and all of the things I was going through. This time was different. There was no comfort coming. I wasn’t able to thank him for listening, feed him some treats, and put him away for the night. This time was goodbye. As I looked into his eyes, I knew that he was telling me he was ready to go. As I took ahold of his lead rope and led him on one last walk, I couldn’t help but think about all of the walks we had taken together. We shared walks of victory, walks of defeat, walks to take win photos, walks to clear our heads after not so stellar rides, walks as I cried, walks as I laughed, walks where he dragged me down the barn aisle, and on this last day, a walk where I thanked him for letting me in, for teaching me, for supporting me and allowing me to be great because of him.
Unfortunately, this story doesn’t have a superhero ending, in the Hollywood sense. He didn’t have a miraculous healing and there was no plot twist that saved the day. My once-in-a-lifetime horse, my friend, crossed the Rainbow Bridge surrounded by some of the people who loved him the most. In the subsequent days (and in no doubt in the weeks to come), there have been many tears, stories told. Although I’m broken and a piece of my heart went with him, I cannot help but be grateful for everything he gave to me in our fifteen years together.
A special thank you to my parents, Sheri and Neil for giving him the retirement he deserved; our barn manager John Torres for taking care of him like he was his own; and our talented farrier, Charlie Roscoe, for keeping Homer’s “Nikes” in tip top condition even in retirement.
Homer, if love could’ve saved you, you would’ve lived forever. Until we meet again, my friend, I hope that there are no spurs, endless amounts of Skittles, grass, and sunshine in Heaven.
Rest In Peace. Shine My Zipper
April 15th 1991-September 9th 2016
AQHA World Champion Senior Western Pleasure
27 time APHA World and Reserve World Champion
(Western Pleasure, Hunter Under Saddle, Pleasure Driving, Trail, Western Riding, Working Hunter, Hunter Hack, Showmanship, Horsemanship, Hunt Seat Equitation)
APHA #1 Amateur Horse 2005
1,305 AQHA points
5,530 APHA Points
