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Snotty Bitch Syndrome

2011-10-15T06:14:04Z

If we are to think of things in generalizations it is because sometimes, or at least often enough, they are true. Dressage has within it a few generalizations as well such as the epic dressage queen or the quintessential generic dressage snotty bitch.

Now there are snotty bitches all over the world, but for some reason dressage snotty bitches have achieved a level of stupidstardom, I mean superstardom which simply surpasses other snotty bitch levels. I think it’s because even when they are trying to be nice they still come off as snotty bitches.

SBS, (Snotty Bitch Syndrome) can manifest itself anywhere from bullying to simply not engaging ones brain before opening ones snotty bitch mouth as well.

I believe snotty bitch is a condition which is often times incurable. So if you are a victim of a snotty dressage bitch, in a way you might for just a moment feel a little sorry for them. That is until they say another snotty bitch thing to you.

Snotty Bitch Syndrome manifests itself in various ways, the first and foremost is in being judgmental. But not just regular horse people judgmental, but super narrow minded snotty bitch piaffe judgmental. And when they see something they aren’t used to they freak………. And so the snotty bitch emerges.

I was recently told a story by someone new to dressage and its competitions. Like many of us this rider had achieved a measure of success in other equestrian disciplines but it is new to dressage. An equestrian immigrant as it were.

Now we all as riders have our little issues. Okay sometimes we have big issues too, and big other stuff (like asses) as well! But for some of us dealing with health stuff some of the issues are really hard to work with. And when someone is resourceful enough to figure out a way around it, they should be respected, should they not?

Well with this particular rider the challenge is MS which causes limitations to mobility. Add to the equation a horse the size of a Brachiosaur. They call them Percherons in the horse world, but I know there’s dino sizing DNA in there somewhere. This particular one is 19’2 hands, which I couldn’t mount on a good day unless I had with me either a) forklift or b) another smaller horse to stand on.

So this remarkable rider with the MS, and who is accomplished in another discipline, trained that Percheronsaurus to kneel so that the rider could safely mount.

Positively brilliant!! (I am going to have to mention this to my own Mr. Thang who looks at me with disgust when I stomp up the mounting block).

Imagine this scenario: Rider excited to be going to their first dressage competition overcoming the challenge of MS and the gigantor horse. The horse obediently responding to the cue to kneel. Rider mounts safely and without incident. Horse then lifts up, and they’re ready to go.

Enter at A: Snotty Bitch speaking these pearls of wisdom as they look up at the rider way up there in the sky from their much smaller horse and state:

“I hope your disability doesn’t hinder you from controlling that monster”.

This my friends is quintessential snotty bitch. But is it you?

Remember please, it’s much cooler to be kind. Don’t be a thrush mouth.

There is a wonderful update on the continuing saga of the snotty bitch!

After posting my blog entry I got a wonderful update which is best put here in the person's own words. I laughed so hard I fell off the couch ~ Apparently at this event the rider had the opportunity to do a short demo ride showing similarities between reining (a former event they competed in) and dressage.

"We had a wonderful time but the best part came when SB rode up and commented that she would never have believed a horse like mine could spin and slide stop like that! I laughed and said I get that alot. Then "Accidently" dropped my head band and said "OOPS" My giant black angel reached down, picked it up, reached around and handed it to me and I gave him a cookie. The people around us dropped their mouths and said how amazing the "trick" was!

Snotty Bitch said "I never feed my horse by hand!"

Just when you thought it couldn't get any Snotty Bitchier, there ya go!! LOL

Spring, Sprang, Sprung

2011-03-25T16:27:00Z

Spring is here and we’re all dusting ourselves off, ready to ride in anticipation of the glory weather days of the better three seasons. That evil fourth season, winter, still tries to hang on from time to time, but clearly winter knows its ass has been kicked to the curb by spring and that it’s time to head for a different hemisphere.

Actually, I don’t really care where winter goes, as long as it is gone from here.

I find myself bouncing back and forth between waiting for spring and trying to expedite spring. I’ve raked the last leaves up (they seem to still be multiplying though they were cleaned in the fall) and I’ve planted new lily bulbs.

For those who are unaware I take great pride in my garden, especially my array of lilies. I grow lilies (except for tiger lilies) because they are non toxic to wandering chickens. Chickens who find them delicious, and from whom they must be protected until fall comes and my very active hens can take them down to dirt again just about in an instant.

I jump all over the gardening thing as soon as the weather permits because I want it done so I can hang out Bar-B-Q-ing. Plus I want to spend time at the barn when it’s warmer out, my favorite temperatures being from 60-85 degrees for riding. The only thing I can’t do is plant the veggies yet, though my grape vines will soon be getting clipped and whacked back. My vines grew like mad last year and for the first time my three year old grape plants tossed out some grapes, though they were mutant grapes which didn’t mature perfectly. I’ve read that this year they would. They had better!!

My horse is shedding like a banshee, though I’m not even sure what a banshee is or if it sheds. I’m also amazed at the amount of winter hair my horse as he’s a thoroughbred and really never grows a winter coat anyway. Almost like a horse going from crew cut to bald as a winter coat sheds into summer sleakness.

He’s shiny, energetic and raring to go. If only I were like that!! My middle age catches up with me more and more it seems as bones creak and thighs bulge. My lower back has this weird thing happening in that it hurts during yard work, bending or sitting a boingey trot, but as soon as I stop it’s fine again. What’s up with that?

My bra size has expanded and now I think I should just sew two or three of my old bras together to make something which fits better. It’s better than having to go out and buy a size Kazillion Triple G. In my mind, (though sadly my mirror disagrees) I’m still ravishing, 20 years old and a 130 pounds. This is my story and I’m sticking to it!!!

So my doc now has me on thyroid meds and with the ever increasing doses I find myself with more and more energy, which is good, because I was really starting to wonder there for a while if I would soon be unable to walk from the bed to the potty and I anticipated the need for one of those pantie pads – maybe even the faux item I made up in one of my video creations “Earls Pony Personal Panty Pads”.

I am determined to once again become the strong, brave beast bitch I once was. I need warm weather to help. Help get me outside and help with sunkissed energy. Longer daylight hours mean I can get things done at home after work, making weekends less complicated. Or at least that’s the plan.

I am sure many of you fellow middle aged amateurs are feeling the same and I want to encourage you that you can do it!! There just might be a little discreet peeing when you drive your horse forward with your seat, or perhaps an escaped poof of a fart when you drive them forward. It’s okay. That’s why indoors are big!

It also helps to have a horse whose belly routinely “bloop bloops” when it trots. Hides the body noises and moans coming from the rider! As for fart noises please note that is quite proper to always blame the horse.

Of course this is also why most of us have dogs. We can always blame the gassy smell on them.

Soon grass seed will go down, veggies will be planted and besides mowing, weeding, fertilizing and repairing chicken caused bare patches the lawn and other plantings will be good to go, and all I’ll have to worry about is going to the barn and riding…… whilst not peeing myself.

I wish you all fine spring riding and dry underwear.

The Ride

2011-03-15T16:30:00Z

So I spent the winter being a bum, at least in the minds of the horsey types. For the first winter ever in over 30 years I didn’t really ride. I didn’t feel the urge nor the necessity in torturing myself. My middle aged body didn’t want to be cold.

Now you could understand someone not wanting to be cold, except for one thing. When I did go to the barn to visit, I wasn’t cold. It was just the IDEA of being cold was such a turnoff that I decided to hibernate indoors, except during my brief barn visits. Never before have I stopped riding for the winter. EVER. Truth be told, it was kinda nice. Hubbie was happy. Work at home got done.

My horse seems to have thrived with the time off. His body is 100% and he looks gorgeous despite being in his mid teens now. Seems like just yesterday he was a butthole ex racehorse! But he’s nice and round, coming off the winter exceptionally well at this newish barn. He was able to spend daytime out in his semi-private field of grass. Nice healthy tall grass. I’m not exactly sure how big his field is. Maybe five acres, maybe 7? It’s just a big plop of land which is ideally placed behind the barn owners house but most importantly it allows for him to run, and run, and then run some more.

I spoke to the barn owner yesterday and she delighted in tales of her dog, a large Belgian Melanois and my horse playing chase with each other despite the stout fence which separates them. Apparently it’s a daily joy for them both, a surprise to hear as when I first got my horse in 1999 he absolutely abhorred dogs and would tried to hoof their faces at any given opportunity.

My horse shares this large pasture with his buddy, an aged horse belonging to a friend of mine. The other horse plays with mine, but soon tires, and so my horse uses the dog and horses in an adjacent field to get his play on. So physically, emotionally and mentally there’s been plenty to engage his mind during my cave dwelling winter days.

As soon as I smelled the first warmth in mid February I had the barnboyguy begin to lunge my horse twice a week, just to get my horse used to moving under human command again. We did this for three weeks and then I began to incorporate riding again. I chose the perfect day to have that first ride. Conditions were ideal to a good experience for both horse and I.

The barn was quiet and the temps were warm. My girlfriend was riding her horse, my horse’s pasture buddy in the arena as well, so everyone was nice and relaxed.

I didn’t expect to do very much with my horse and just wanted the first ride to be a calm, happy experience. I worked him at first a long time in the walk and kept his very active “go-ee” brain occupied with cavaletti, shoulder in, haunches in. I did some walk/trot/walk transitions and then let him settle in a nice training level type long reined trot. Canter went smooth as silk, relatively speaking and our canter/walk transitions took a little time to warm up to (which was perfectly alright) but soon were dead on.

I don’t like to canter my horse ad nauseum, and I much prefer doing transitions in and out of the gait. Basically, I do because my horse tends to load the front end too much and since he is far from sure footed, often he’ll trip with a too long rein. The transitions help to pick up that front end without having to shorten the rein too much and it is also so much easier on my middle aged body.

We ended the ride on a good note, with great success. Afterwards my girlfriend commented saying it was as if we had been riding all along. I figure it doesn’t get any better than that!

Our subsequent rides went likewise. First rides after a few days off were all about bending, shoulder in, haunches in, and a little half-pass tossed it when it felt right to.

My most recent ride found me riding the absolute most perfect half pass left we’d ever done. I was ecstatic and jumped off him and loved on him tons. What a good boy!!! I quit the ride then, and after caring for him and putting him away went to call a friend to talk of the perfect half pass. But she didn’t answer. I spent the rest of the day trying to call friends to speak of the perfect half pass but no one was around!! Another day passed, and still I was unable to communicate the perfect half pass to anyone. When the perfect half pass comes and no one is there to see it, have you really half passed at all?

Part of me can’t believe it’s gone so well so far. The bug to ride is back inside my belly and it feels good to have it again. And although my house and garden show the result of my time away from riding (yes my lawn and garden are ready for planting) it does feel good to greet sweet spring once again and look forward to a glorious warm weather season.

I hope your rides go as well, and urge you to remember that the power to have the best rides lies within you.

It’s so much easier when you AND the horse just want to.

Twas the Night Before Christmas

2010-12-18T04:55:00Z

Twas the Night before Christmas Poem

Twas the night before Christmas Poem also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas"
Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863) wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1822. It is now the tradition in many American families to read the poem every Christmas Eve. The poem Twas the night before Christmas has redefined our image of Christmas and Santa Claus. Prior to the creation of the story of Twas the night before Christmas St. Nicholas, the patron saint of children, had never been associated with a sleigh or reindeers!

The author of the poem Twas the night before Christmas was a reticent man and it is believed that a family friend, Miss H. Butler, sent a copy of the poem to the New York Sentinel who published the poem. The condition of publication was that the author of Twas the night before Christmas was to remain anonymous. The first publication date was 23rd December 1823 and it was an immediate success. It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore claimed ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry. Clement Clarke Moore came from a prominent family and his father Benjamin Moore was the Bishop of New York who was famous for officiating at the inauguration of George Washington.

The tradition of reading Twas the night before Christmas poem on Christmas Eve is now a Worldwide institution.

This is the poem refurbished DressageForTheRestOfUs style. I guess it was on my mind.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the world
Horses and Horsemen, their stories unfurled
There were horses for show and some were in training
In jumping, dressage and many in reining

There were horses for experts and those that were not
They trained at the canter, lope, jog or the trot
There were horses for trails and some, they raced
They galloped, they jumped, trotted or paced

And in some barn I heard such a clatter
Two ammies were fighting over who was the fatter
So away to Facebook I flew and I flashed
Opened the laptop to see who was bashed

Each rescue accused others of crimes don’t you know
Horses killed or abused just to make dough
Like a soap opera they yelled for all who would hear
Homes condemned, animals taken, lies and truth never clear

I shut my eyes to think and to think quick
For some Christmas spirit, a poem of St. Nick?
I’d change it to suit us, try not to be lame
And for goodwill I won’t say a name

Now rescues and shippers and trainers in kitchens
You chase folks away behaving like bitchens
Us ammies are clueless, or so you say
Then get it together and show us the way!

We need to learn in a way most conducive
To riding as art while not being abusive
To develop our minds along with our seat
To compete like humans, compassion complete

But instead you conspire and train oh so foul
Many discourage and throw in the towel
So on this night with miracle’s force
I write what’s in common, our partner, the horse

I imagine a horse world, good all around
Where kindness and compassion are known to abound
Where greed is a thing far away put
Not valued in training, it’s squashed underfoot.

A bundle of knowledge that no one would lack
Training that’s good for horse, leg and back
Not what is easy like some famous would do
Horses curled up like a giant groomed poo

Horse eyes should twinkle, focus complete
That’s what should win when we compete!
Performance need be there too with the rules
That should be coveted, not just the drools

And never should chin touch to a chest
The Masters taught us, why make up the rest?
So for one night let’s make it global
Do what is right and do what is noble

There are horses who hurt, are hungry or dying
Let’s stop it now, all should be trying
From BLM mustang to those who need bail
To slaughter and rolkur we must not fail

So for one night and maybe a day
We must do what’s right, or so I will pray
And lay aside the anger and greed
Our best Christmas spirit is what horses need!

So I’ll spring to my keyboard, fingers fly with a goal
To write what I’ve been thinking, deep down in my soul
That if goodness embraced us all would be right,
"Happy Christmas to all, work together, good-night!"

Reflections

2010-10-19T04:00:00Z

I had looked forward to the WEG with great hope, enthusiasm and anticipation. And while I found some inspiring things, they were not in the areas that I though perhaps they would be or should be.

Part of my brain is surprised by this. Part stunned that the stupid half of my brain still doesn’t get it and holds onto the sliver of hope that one day international will regain its collective honor.

I have made a conscious decision to accentuate the positive in this situation. So let the accentuating begin…… I'm trying very hard not to be a Debbie Downer.

Inspiring to me was the wonderful saddleless and bridleless demo by Stacy Westfall. Now while riding bareback and even bridleless is no great thing in and of itself, the two simultaneously in such a large, loud, charged venue is something to be quite admired.

Quite frankly every rider should be able to do this, or do something close to it. Every rider should be able to at least take their horse into a familiar ring, with the right conditions, and be able to pull off walk, trot, canter without getting killed given adequate exposure, diet, training and trust.

The greatest display of the true meaning of dressage I found in a cross country rider named Rebecca Holder riding her grey horse Courageous Comet. The fact that we are both from the USA is purely coincidental and played no part in my admiration, though it is kinda cool.

This team won my heart during the cross-country phase due to their harmony. Perhaps a part of the reason is that this rider isn’t built like the svelte blonde stereotypical advanced riders you see. In fact, the lady is beefy and for some reason I found that quite refreshing and admirable considering the stamina it takes to ride such a course. But mostly it was because for every stride and every jump that lady and her horse were ONE. No deviation, no momentary hiccup. And her horse’s expression showed it.

Lovely.

Although she withdrew from later competition, she and her OTTB now have a place in my heart.

Admitttedly, I didn’t watch every ride of every event. Although I DVR’d the TV shows and paid the thirty bucks for the online Universal sports coverage it was only days before I found myself bummed out by much of the riding, most notably in dressage and reining. Truly a hyperflexion heaven disappointed me profoundly.

Clearly the WEG riders warming up had decided they were going to do what they wanted to do in full knowing that no one was going to cry foul, unless of course there was blood. Eventually there was blood and a disqualification followed but that’s besides the point.

So I did what any self respecting big mouthed blogger would do. Or at least what this self respecting big mouthed blogger decided to do. I went riding. I did cleaning. I did everything I could but watch the rest of the WEG. I removed myself from the chatter, then went back in to view with fresh eyes. I found that my fresh eyes, and old tired eyes saw the same thing… force, domination, unhappy horses.

Yes, Tortilla looked happy enough, but he was incorrect enough to negate that. His extended trots didn’t happen as they should, and I wondered if there was a reason for the conservative execution of them. Was it me or did it seem the line blurred from time with the trot? There seemed confusion as to whether it was a trot or passage or perhaps some new gait called “trossage”.

So, after weeks of staying away and not blogging but rather doing fall cleaning and organizing, paying bills and whatnot I have finally decided how I feel about all of this and has decided my position on such matters.

Not that anyone would care mind you, but if you do, read on.

My position is: It doesn’t affect me.

It also doesn’t affect every other rider who wants to use a better standard, one that they can live with within their own morality, in their riding. Of course those that prefer such means as what is seen in the horse show world will profoundly affect the horses ridden within that method, but for me and others like me, the world and our training objectives carry on.

The FEI and the like are moving farther and farther away from me, and me from it. With every demonstration as to what that community feels is justifiable, I am repulsed further away to pursuit differing dressage and riding avenues. I don't want a horse whose head is positioned so as to sniff his own pits or nibble at his chest.

It also occurs to me (based upon the standing ovation for Juan Manuel Munoz Diaz and Fuego XII) that a huge part of the audience just might be feeling the same way about things. That audience, along with countless of later viewers on the internet, sung the praises of this team and were quick to forgive the few errors. That audience admired that combo so much that they leaped to their feet in a sudden and stunning display of admiration, inspiration and appreciation.

Can it be that THAT crowd wants change too?

It is also apparent that the residents of Mt. Olympassage (like the great god Sjeus) are perfectly happy with the status quo. They don’t want to change a thing and are maneuvering skillfully to make sure they prevail.

The FEI also doesn’t seem to mind at all, along with the folks at WEG, who after the brave act of disqualifying bloodied tongues, didn’t say boo squat to all the horses being warmed up in various degrees of torture… errr hyperflexion.

It therefore is becoming increasingly apparent that another equestrian venue is required to accommodate the wishes of a worldwide audience. A “Dressage As Art” venue as opposed to the current “Dressage As Sport”. I’m also going to bitch that after watching a lot of the reiners, maybe “Reining As Art” should be next.

In “Dressage as Art” there could be scoring, placing, competing and judging but with a closer eye to more acceptable riding practices.

Sort of like Olympic Greco-Roman wrestling as compared to Hulk Hogan type wrestling. The Hyperflexors could even borrow Hulk’s pink feather boa if they would like to add a little “sumpin sumpin” to their performances. I’m 91% sure this would work.

With all this on my mind I rode my horse this weekend. Never did I feel more compelled to ride with finesse and lightness. Of course I’m just of the herd of middle aged female dressage riders trying to ride more graciously with our horses and from what I see, it’s really becoming all the rage.

We ammies just eat this shit up.

I’m happy to say that my horse gave me as much as his present conditioning would allow and in the end he was so forward and so strong I really had to work my body to contain the energy as opposed to using the reins to do so.

I loved the opportunity to test my skill and I could see by the horse’s reaction where I performed well and where I needed work. However, considering how infrequent my rides have been, coupled with the active winds and cool temperatures, my horse was so into the ride that it seemed impossibly magical, and it was actually easy at many points.

Like butter.

Now we are riding no where near FEI level but with these rides I got a sense that if I were to ride consistently correctly, and train more often, that we’d progress by leaps and bounds as if overnight.

It left me happy and wanting more, and more desirably it left my horse wanting more too.

Now isn’t that how you’re supposed to feel?

It sure is nice to win at shows and even nicer to win at big ones. But I have no doubt that I, along with innumerable others, would rather have great mid level rides on their horses than forced, domineering rides that are apparently necessary (or at least seem to be so) in what currently is masquerading as dressage competition.

Given this, I’d like a place to go and show before a judge so that our progress can be expertly critiqued according to the standards I and many of like mind, hold dear. Of course this would require a judge unimpressed by anything less than correct and the proper venue in which to place said judge’s ass and the judge would need the guts to score folks as they should be scored, even if those folks didn’t like it.

Then you’d need the herd of middle aged women to fill the class. Of course you would fill the classes as we love torturing ourselves.

As for venues such as the WEG I find myself in a stage of continual distancing. I’m distancing from the FEI dream and I’m drawn to find new sources of learning a la Walter Zettl. I’ve been checking out Manolo Mendez with great enthusiasm and will be attending/organizing clinics in the future. Although he could never, ever be duplicated I would like to find a bit of Zettl in Mr. Mendez. In this regard I’m checking out other notables like Dominique Barbier and I plan on soon studying some things new to me, like Cynthia Royale (trainer of Shadowfax – Blanco from Lord Of The Rings) in addition to others I’ve previously written about.

So far each has given another piece, and I’ll be paying attention to all of these folks some more. So far, and for the most part, I’ve liked what I’ve seen.

For now, I’m not renewing any memberships until I see more of what will happen in the future. For now, I’m going to take my hard earned money and direct it to those who teach a better way.

I never did understand those riders who never show but still somehow mysteriously advance. Now I do.

Now I do.

See, I DID learn something from the WEG!

For Erin Martin, For You, For The Horses

2010-10-14T16:41:00Z

I received this comment in my comment section and I thought it worthy of specific mention. Mostly this is due to the fact that the word "Revolution" was in the title, as that word clearly indicates how I'm feeling after recent events. I'll be posting more on this but in the meantime, warm up your gums with this.

Now I haven't looked into the site yet, but I will later, but it seems to be something worthy of at least discussing and investigating.

From Erin Martin:

I am developing a mailing list of like minded rider/trainers/competitors who are passionate about preserving the principles of classical dressage. Check out my posts, and if you like what you read, I hope you will help me to promote it. My goal is 100 subscribers initially:

http://www.lighthorsefarm.com/LHFBlog/talkin-bout-a-revolution/

Dear Bill,

2010-09-23T23:32:00Z

I am writing this to you to tell you how very special you are to me. When I found out you had passed from that sudden heart attack a short time ago I felt awful, and continue to feel rather melancholy. I’ll miss you, ya big lug. You know, you were definitely too young to die.

I know it makes no sense to write and post this on a blog as heaven may have many things, but I’m thinking an internet connection is not one of them. In a place of infinite wisdom, it’s probable that the internet is not needed as all the knowledge of all the ages is already there.

When I moved from the barn you managed we hugged goodbye and you told me how sad you were I was leaving because I was one of the “good ones”. Well, you were one of the “good ones” too.

But as senseless as it is to post this online, my heart tells me to honor you in some way, and this was the best my feeble mind could come up with. I guess sometimes we just need to get stuff off our chest, even if the reason for doing so is a bit silly. But you know me, silly to the end. In fact, that was one of the things you liked about me, always wanting to have fun and always being a goof.

I came to your barn not long after my horse had undergone colic surgery and when I moved in, you listened patiently to what I had to say. You made sure the vets advice and suggestions were followed to the “T” and you kept a watchful eye over my horse.

In those years that passed you caught the little belly aches (which no longer happen thankfully) and you took care of my horse when I wasn’t able to be there because of work. You treated untold numbers of abscesses and when my drama queen horse got a piece of hay stuck in his eye and it swelled shut. You gave him his meds every day, in fact several times a day. We both joked how silly it was to amass a one thousand dollar vet bill for some miniscule piece of hay. You always made sure to be there for the vet, with me or alone, as you had a true, genuine interest in my horse's well being.

You held my horse a million times for shoers and vets and never complained. Every time I saw you I'd see you smile, glad to see me. That was always a good, warm feeling.

Together we laughed at all the torn blankets, disappearing halters and tossed shoes which fell victim to my silly horse. The day we watched my horse tearing around the ring, flat out running with his hind legs passing in front of his front legs, you turned to me, pointed and started laughing your ass off. I laughed too and turned to you and said “I ride that?” You know, I never told you, but seeing him run like that I got a little scared. Just for a second though, as once I swung my leg over his back, he was a perfect gentleman.

You understood the nature of my horse and were never put off by it. You always did the right thing, by me and him, even to the point of changing flat trailer tires so we wouldn’t be late (again) for a lesson. In fact, you’ve done so much helping me with trailers and their mechanical issues that I would have been lost without you.

Do you remember the day of the trail ride and barbeque? They had the auction for the shiny jeweled western buckle you had your eye on. And because you had earned it with all your help, I made sure I bought it for you and I outbid all those other people! But there was no way, no how, you weren't going to get that buckle. You also earned every single penny of those Christmas bonuses, strawberry cheese cakes and any other silly thing I did in my feeble attempt to repay your kindness.

I’ll miss you dear, kind Bill and I hope your place in heaven is full of your beloved horses. I'll pray for your loving wife (your soulmate) who is left behind. One day, when I too pass, we’ll go for a trail ride in heaven and we’ll joke and make fun of all the people from the old place.

Many wonder of the definition of a “true horseman”. Well Bill, you ARE the definition of a true horseman and also a true friend. I can give you no greater tribute.

God speed, God bless. Take care of yourself up there.

Your Friend,
Dressage For The Rest Of Us

Expanding Horizons

2010-09-19T16:17:00Z

Never before in horsey history has an equestrian had such access to the abundance of information regarding horses, their care and the art of riding them. The internet has put forth many voices and all sorts of tools to further one’s equestrian experience and education.

With my own personal journey I’ve gotten the opportunity to speak with a myriad of people from all over the world. Even the writing of this silly little blog has opened up learning opportunities which have me surprised by virtue of the sheer magnitude of connections.

Sometimes there is no way to predict in which direction our attentions will be directed. One of my latest discoveries is the existence of the webinars I found on Facebook and so far, I have found them most enjoyable.

The other day I was taking a break from life and its responsibilities and was watching television. Showing on my nice big HD screen was one of the four billion replays of a Lord Of The Rings movie, “The Return Of The King”. In it, the wizard Gandolph rides a magnificent horse, the king of horses, by the name of Shadowfax.

I found myself watching not from a mere entertainment aspect of the movie, but specifically focusing on Shadowfax and the scenes he was in and what he had to do in those scenes.

In one part Shadowfax (whose real name is Blanco) was galloping up steep rocky steps, bridleless, with the actor playing Gandolph grasping a piece of mane (or maybe a neck rein) and going along for the ride. A few thoughts crossed my mind.

First off, was the fact that were it me I would be half scared to death of my horse slipping from the unprotected sheer drop side of the stairs and both of us plummeting to a sad end. This is mostly because my horse has the tendency to be a klutz.

The second was that my horse would probably trip over his own feet trying to pull of such a move. A mountain goat would have the necessary agility to pull off the move but I have no doubt that my horse does not. Agile, he isn’t. Athletic yes, agile no. In fact, when he was a young horse if he ran too hard in the arena he would promptly slip and fall on his side. I witnessed him doing so a handful of times. Thankfully, with age and increased balance and a maturing mind he hasn’t done such silly things for just about a decade now, but his lack of agility still sticks out in my mind.

So there was the beautiful Blanco - Shadowfax pulling off all these stunts and such, (bridleless) yet with a look of splendid grandeur and nobility. He looked just like you would imagine the King of Horses to look. If only our show horses looked so grand!

Well lo and behold the next day or two I’m doing my Facebook thing and whom do I come across but Shadowfax and his trainer’s page. I clicked “like” and left a message. This began a little bit of conversation and now when opportunity presents I’m going to listen to the lady and see what she has to say.

Royal Equine Academy & Shadowfax (Blanco)

If I had to guess, I’d probably learn a bit, but realize a lot. Sometimes, you can know something horsey but not put two plus two together until some light bulb moment graces upon you. I’m thinking listening to her will provide some great light bulb moments and I look forward to it with great enthusiasm.

If you too are interested in checking it out do it ! And whether it’s this person or someone else’s webinar you should always take advantage of the opportunity to increase your own education, no matter who you are. You should hunger for it, thirst for it.

The equestrian life you save just might be your own.

EXCITED!!

2010-09-09T02:58:00Z

So much as happened with me in the past month it leaves me in a bit of awe.

I’ve been busy creating and writing for various applications and I’m humbled and honored that my work has gained such wide attention and for most, acceptance.

As I write, my animated “Dressage Queen” has surpassed 14,000 hits which I find positively amazing. When I learned of the caliber of riders seeing it, I was blown away, a little scared even.

For a moment I felt like “What’s an ammie like me doing in a dressage world like this?” Then, I figured it out. My voice seems to be the voice of many, so despite my lack of gold medals, my voice and all our voices seem to have some relevance to a lot of people.

I understand that this bestows upon me great responsibility and I will be sure to do my best in my small role within our global equestrian community.

Between animations, blogs and writing articles for publication I certainly have been very busy. But it’s a good busy if you know what I mean! I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you - all my friends and readers – very, very much for your support. It’s truly appreciated.

Like most amateurs, I wish there were more time for riding. Trying to work that delicate balance between all my endeavors is a challenge for me as it is for many of you.

That said, I haven’t been able to ride as much as I would normally and haven’t done so for a number of months. There have been no lessons, no clinics, and no shows. With cool fall weather to arrive shortly, I wanted to get back into the schwung of things and so have gotten the itch to reverse the trend of not riding.

To that end I recently had a friend video me riding my horse. It was a very easy ride to mark the starting point of another concerted training effort, a beginning for horse and rider looking to resume their former level of performance.

I asked for critique from respected friends and colleagues and today I was able to implement their suggestions.

I found myself very pleasantly having a great ride! I worked my horse nicely forward into our correct tempo, had great rhythm, and I was able to follow him with my body better than I ever had before.

I think Herr Zettl would have been pleased.

The ride was easy. In fact, it was so effortless it felt as if I must be cheating, as if I were doing it wrong. But my horse’s responses were telling me it was right…. Gloriously right.

My horse is the boss after all. Like an instrument, if he’s played right, we make beautiful music together. I just have to listen to him. Play him wrong and we’re a Yoko Ono ballad.

I was loose in the saddle (always a great day when an aging body is able to move and flex freely) and sat an awesome lengthening. It was the first lengthening that felt right. In fact, near the end of the first lengthening I was so pleasantly excited that I stiffened for a moment and lost the oneness with my horse for a moment as I realized that this was the best we’ve ever been. But then a wonderful thing happened, I was able to correct it without missing a beat, another small personal triumph. I did this just by allowing my knees to flex and follow his body.

I did one more extension, half the diagonal. I didn’t want to push things just to see if the first extension was a fluke. I learned it was no fluke. I took a walk break to reflect.

I’ve never been (on this horse) successful at sitting his big trot before but today it felt as if we were gliding. Please don’t understand this to mean sitting the trot to stay on. I’m talking about sitting the trot in a way that you’re in perfect unison with the horse for each and every step. Sitting the trot in a way a person could be proud of, and I am.

Listening to my friends and heeding their advice I was able to ride my best and my horse reacted magnificently, lightly, and enthusiastically. Truly it was Nirvana.

The rest of the ride followed suit with everything just flowing. Shoulder fore blossomed to lovely shoulder in. My canter-walk transitions were the best they’ve ever been, and my downward transitions from trot glided so smoothly and instantly, I was reminded of my reining horse days and the feeling of a sliding stop.

I have found myself actually wondering if I just imagined it. Then I remember to trust my instincts, trust that I know at least this much. Trust that I can tell correctly when things are going good.

Of course now this means I have to get this on video, or else my friends might not believe me!

Reflecting on this ride caused my thoughts to wander. I found myself considering the journey my horse and I have shared. I always reflect on my rides, just as much as I visualize the next one. So much of riding is mental after all.

I thought about our journey and how it had such a rocky start. I considered how easily things flow now. There is no drama. I go to the barn, get the horse, brush him, saddle him up and ride. Our rides go well, sometimes wonderfully. After the ride I care for him, love on him a bit and then put him cozily away. Every day is this way. Every day is easy.

How very fortunate I am.

Later on I was speaking with another friend on the phone and she was mentioning some people she knew and all the drama they are constantly having with their horses. I said “Gee, they always seem to have a problem. Isn’t there a day when they or those horses don’t have issues?”

Then I thought of my own horse and how things are going so smoothly and how I feel like the luckiest horse person alive.

I’m lucky to have access to friends who are not only knowledgeable but who are friends enough to tell me where I need to improve. Thank goodness they respect me enough to not just blow smoke up my ass, but to tell me how I can get better.

Tomorrow shall bring us another ride, another opportunity. Tomorrow our minds shall join again, and if they join enough, our bodies will follow.

And for this I am excited…… and I should be!

Dressage Queen

2010-08-25T00:22:00Z

I found this film making site while visiting one my favorite blogs, The Carrot. So I borrowed from The Carrot and made my own little mini movie. It is a short parody which hopefully you will enjoy.

Dressage Queen

(It has been brought to my attention that my female character may resemble an English monarch. This is not the intention at all. In fact, I am a great fan of the Brits. Please understand that when using this program for free there are limited characters and choices to use. When I saw the figure looked like a queen I immediately thought of "Dressage Queen" and not the monarch of any country. As for the accent, it was the default accent - I don't even know if there is a choice of language there as it was my first attempt at this EVER. Plus, when I played it back it sounded very cool. So please, do not take this in any way, any form, to represent any monarchy other than the Dressage Type. If I've offended anyone because of this I apologize. I was looking to only offend advocates of rolkur/hyperflexion/LDR)

The Weimaraner, the Pistol and the T-Rex

2010-08-04T00:06:00Z

Recently I attended a webinar given by Shawna Karrasch about her On Target Training System. I wanted to check it out, that whole clicker training thing, and I discovered that I’ve been using it all along, except in my case the clicker is my voice saying “good boy”. Both constitute positive reinforcement ideals.

Her principles are sound and good and if anyone is having trouble with their horse they might want to consider what Shawna has to offer. If you are interested you can check out her stuff at www.askshawna.com.

Shawna spoke of her common sense training system and several horse related issues. One of the issues she spoke of is spooking and as I listened to her my ADD mind wandered (as it always does) and I remembered a day trail riding with my horse which gave me the inspiration to write this essay.

Now you remember that my horse had formerly been a racehorse (a sprinter) and he has been known to spook from time to time. If he’s feeling especially delicious it can be one heck of a spook at that.

I think it's funny how I never considered him spooky (and still do not) though when I think about it, he’s spooked dozens of times. Big ones, too.

In the beginning of our time together his spooks consisted of “spin at lightning speed, then bolt off”. It was quite the pain in the ass.

As time passed and he became far braver the spooks changed twice. Spook One consisted of his lowering his altitude (like a cow horse crouch) in a millisecond then taking a look step to the side. Although this spooking technique was far better that “spin n bolt” it was still quite the pain in the ass. Often it felt as if my ass managed to travel far while my head was left for a moment where it was, like I was some sort of Warner Bros. cartoon.

Spook Two, which currently is the most common spook, is “startle in place, perhaps decreasing ones altitude”. Again, this consists of crouching down like a cutting horse. This spook is pretty cool and not at all a pain in the ass. I do not resemble a Warner Bros. cartoon.

I often marvel at how I don’t move at all for this spook and often don’t realize there even is a spook until it is over. I figure this is because I am very relaxed most of the time. There’s no time for my body to resist the movement and instead I sort of just go with the flow. That, or I'm just plumb tired.

(It is when you have fear that you tense up and then such a spook can unseat you because your body is working in opposition as opposed to moving in unity with the horse)

Once in a while he’ll still do the step thing, but he has to be very, very frightened. Like a deer-suddenly-jumping-out-a-foot-from-us frightened. But most of the time he just gets real looky and tenses his body. I have discovered that Chihuahuas in baby carriages at shows and abandoned coffee mugs in an indoor during a clinic can be the cause in these cases. I get past it by laughing at him and calling him a boob, and he is apparently okay with that.

Sometimes his spooks are so benign that although I feel his insides jump, his outsides stay in place. This kind of spook I consider victory.

But no matter which he does I think my reaction is the number one reason why his spookiness has decreased over time. I kinda laugh at him and make fun of him. “Oh now you big baby, what’s the matter, a tree frightens you now?” And then I start chattering and I can feel him breathe a good “whew”.

I have no doubt that if I acted differently it would feed the spooks and I do have to admit that once or twice I’ve been actually a little bit a-scared. But when I figure out that I’m a-scared I get pissed, because I’m never a-scared dammit!! Plus being a-scared becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and supposedly I’m too smart for that. Or at least that's what my blogs say.

So on this one particular summers day I was riding in the large park near my barn. This park is used by many, equestrians and non-equestrians alike. Much to my chagrin, many hunters also utilize the park and do all sorts of hunting stuff in there.

I was riding alone and my horse was getting all into the trail ride with his ears alertly pricked forward and a nice long swinging gait. Relaxation at its best. We were content.

Then, all of a sudden a young Weimaraner comes bouncing up to him, stops in front and begins to bark at his face. Horsey froze and I began to talk him through it. A moment later a pistol carrying hunter type came strolling by and began to correct the dog. He figured his dog was being a nuisance, but I saw opportunity.

I said to the guy let the dog go and let’s see what transpires. Certainly I’d run into more dogs on the trail and I should cross this bridge now. Better now than never! Within moments, Weimaraner was standing on his back legs touching noses with my horse. Both dog and horse were okay with this and endlessly fascinated with one another.

I asked the hunter guy if the gun was loaded and he said it was, but with blanks. I asked him to begin shooting it repeatedly and he was happy to oblige. His must have figured his dog was getting trained too!

So there we were, the horse, the hunter and the Weimaraner all making nice nice while the pistol was repeatedly fired. It went splendidly.

We shook hands, both very happy with what we’ve accomplished training wise. I bid him and Weimeriner goodbye and continued my ride.

Up ahead I saw another horse and it was being very naughty. I rode up and saw the reason why. A hunting club had put throughout the park a bunch of fiberglass targets for hunters to use as practice. These targets were realistic looking animals. There was a turkey, a deer, a bear, a bison and then the object of this horse’s meltdown. It was a fiberglass Tyrannosaurus Rex about ten feet tall.

Now I can’t tell you why there would be a fiberglass T-Rex in a park chock full of people riding horses. As far as I know this park didn't contain "Jurassic" it its name and I’m thinking not too many T-Rex hunting licenses are issued by the state. Plus, if there were T-Rex roaming around, odds are I wouldn’t be trail riding there anyways.

But I figured what the hell, training opportunity being what it is, let me try. With reassuring coaxing and my horse fresh off his happy Weimaraner pistol experience I was successful getting him to stand next to the T-Rex. Not bad for a jerky racehorse!

With my being able to accomplish this, the other horse also settled. We continued on our separate ways and I figured we’d done enough on our “relaxing” trail ride.

On the way home we came across a creek that was about six inches wide. Wouldn’t you know it was THAT the ended up being the tough thing to do?!

Okay, so hunters, firing pistols, Weimaraners and T-Rex’s are okay. The six inch wide stream was to prove the tricky thing, a true panic situation.

It's so much easier riding circles in the ring.

Not in the mood to start a fight I simply turned and backed him into the stream then spun him around and by the time he realized what I’d done we’d crossed that sucker. Brains over brawn.

I could feel him literally take a long, relieved sigh.

We arrived home and I sung him his praises and cared for him like he was a King. He liked it very much and we walked away with another great experience under our belt despite the best efforts of The Weimaraner, the pistol and the T-Rex.

Note:. I would be remiss if I didn't point out one more important thing. I did not start out taking a spooky horse out on trails to stand next to fiberglass T-Rex's.

I started out slowly, one step .... one baby step at a time. It began with trust while brushing. If you read my web page section titled "Tao of a Thoroughbred" you can see how the trust evolved. From that it evolved to trust riding with others out on the trail. When he'd be frightened of the dumpster that one day appeared on the property I had to caress him to approach it which I did with the promise of carrots in a plastic bag until he got to the point that he, on his own, touched that dumpster with his nose and sniffed it and he could then grab the carrots.

I consoled him constantly and eventually our partnership and his trust evolved into standing next to fiberglass T-Rex's on the trail.

In this too Shawna is right. Start small so you can achieve big.

I wish I had a good photoshop program, but this little scene just cracks me the hell up! Was I giving the finger to the T-Rex?

The Reiner

2010-07-25T02:51:00Z

Let's see if I can suprise you!

Apologies for the fuzziness, but it's worth it! Enjoy!

Entourage

2010-07-24T19:07:00Z

I’ve always wanted an entourage. I’d watch in amazement as horse gurus, both local and famous, would always seem to have flocks of folks with them, listening to everything they said and blindly devoted to every word and thought, waiting in devotion for the next pearl of wisdom. In time the best devotees became handy, free labor for the guru.

With practice, a guru could get their devotees to do just about anything and some gurus in horses or other areas of life would often do their masters bidding without question no matter what was asked. Manson’s followers come to mind.

Devotees love fighting on behalf of their guru.

In the equestrian world gurus also attract such devotion as passionate as any religions. I remember once going to a horse expo and when I pulled into the parking lot there were a bunch of cars with writing all over them (high school football team style) espousing how much the occupants were in love with Gawani Pony Boy. It looked as if I’d pulled into the 1960’s parking lot of a Beatles concert, screaming swooning girls included.

It’s easy to know when young girls like something because there is high pitched screaming involved.

I cracked up laughing and begin to imagine myself pulling up in a car all marked up espousing Walter Zettl. Cute slogans written in soap with sentiments such as “Zettl Rocks!” or “Show Your Mettle With Walter Zettl”.

Give me a few glasses of wine and I can make up slogans for days.

If you could hear all the noise in my head now you’d be laughing your asses off with the scenarios my brain is coming up with. Oh look, here are some now....

Imagine pulling into a parking lot for a horse expo. Folks are barbequing by their cars a la football pre-game style. Some are wearing certain colored clothing a la the color scheme of their favorite guru complete with logos. Some have small TV’s playing their gurus best known video.

Nearby a teenage girl swoons and squeals “Oh I LOVE that video!”

A man walks by with a backpack moving from group to group trying to hawk Expo Tshirts for ten bucks apiece. Buy three for $25.00. He has an accent.

The Clint Anderson folks are tossing some shrimps on the bar-bee talking about how great his methods are. His methods seem a bit rough to me but his fans don’t see it. Instead they are huddled around talking about how all the non-fans are clueless.

The Parelli folks are huddled in a small circle. The circle used to be bigger, but some videos came out. One of the fans today has a carrot stick sticking out of a back pocket of her jeans poised up like some erect white tail. They are talking about the injustice of videos posted and how the rest of us non-fans are clueless.

Then there’s another group of fans of some cowboy who was mentored by that Dorrance guy. Good guy to have as mentor because no one really says chit about him and he’s widely respected. Now this new guy who studied with Dorrance has his own line of training videos and DVDs, all still new to the market. The fans talk about how clueless all the non-fans are and how ahead of the curve they are.

John Lyons fans are also huddled about quoting Bible and Lyons quotes. They are talking about the things they’ve learned from John (and Josh) and I’m surprised as most of it is stuff that would qualify as common knowledge that you learned in the beginning of your time with horses. Yet strangely lots of people still need to learn it. The fans talk about how clueless all the non-fans are then quote the Bible a lot.

There would have been a section for Jane Savoie fans, but they tend to be older and are too busy to be grilling in the parking lot. They’ve come in between dropping off one kid at soccer and picking up another one from cheerleading. Plus I really like Jane so its harder to poke harmless fun at her. But I guess in the interest of fairness I should try.

So now I’m listening to a video of hers as I write so that I can find a hole to poke with humor. Dammit, everything is dead on balls accurate. In this video she’s speaking of folks with terrible fear issues so I can’t pick on them either being they are already all freaked out. So here we are with Jane’s group of middle aged women pulling into the lot in their range rovers holding small lattee’s or coffees in my scenario, chatting with their children on their Blue tooths.

Anky’s group is absent because she isn’t coming to America and they’ve figured there is nothing they can learn from low life Anky neigh-sayers. They are however planning to attend some reinings so that they can watch her ride. And win again, strangely. When they do gather at the reining, they can talk about how clueless TWO groups of horse people are, both in reining and dressage.

Edward Gals entourage is in full force because he’s the new big guy on campus despite the fact that his horse of horses Totillas can’t do extensions anywhere near correct and has seemingly just about developed the pacey working walk. None of that matters to them as they are expecting him to score 99.9% on his next show appearance anyway. They lovingly stroke their show ribbons as they talk about how clueless everyone else is.

I’m with the Zettl folks and unlike the others I’m stuffing myself silly with a roast beast sandwhich while the others have salad. I cannot have salad because salad is not food. Salad is what food eats. This group is huddled about talking about how happy and relaxed their horses are. Out of fifteen of us, only one shows with any frequency. The word harmony is spoken often and we cast sidewards glances to the Gal group quietly calling them bitches and saying how mean and clueless they are.

Each group is devoted as they come and I marvel as to how the guru’s do it. And although I know I am the farthest thing from a guru myself (I’m more like a gnu that guru) I’ve seen the same kind of hero worship doted upon the local trainers in my area some of which are far, far from deserving, and I just don’t get it.

How do they do it?

It’s great to have a guru, but it’s better to have a mentor. And it’s best to keep aware and step back sometimes to evaluate what you’re hearing and seeing. Today’s guru just might end up being yesterday’s hack.

It’s tough I think to be a guru. Your smart followers will hang on every word and watch every deed and their judgment of these evolves on a daily basis. Or at least it should.

There’s a great responsibility when you’re a guru and I fear that most guru’s are destined for eventual failure. You see, they forget at what point to say “No”.

Honorably Mentioned

2010-07-21T06:30:00Z

I received a comment in reply to my previous post "At What Point No?" and felt it necessary to post. It tells a fuller story of an elite athletes decision to say "No" as she was concerned for her horses welfare.

I cannot imagine how hard it would be for many of us, given the chance to ride in the Olympics, to just say "No". Kudos to Ms. Ikle for being able to.

"I don't know what criticism had to be endured (the team trainer resigned, don't know if it was in protest or what), but here's a report on why she withdrew from the Hong Kong Olympics:

The Swiss Equestrian Federation has withdrawn its dressage team from the 2008 Hong Kong Olympic Games following a statement by its top dressage rider, Silvia Iklé. Iklé announced that she will not take her 14-year-old gelding Salieri CH to the Games, nor would she allow her second horse, Romario, ridden by teammate Veronika Marthaler, to compete. Iklé cited the humidity, distance and time difference of Hong Kong as reasons not to take her horses.

In a press statement, Iklé said, “Participating in Hong Kong would place extraordinary stresses and strains, exertions I do not wish to impose upon my horses.”

After Iklé’s statement, the Swiss Equestrian Federation decided to withdraw the entire Swiss dressage team from the Games, pointing out that, without Iklé, the team would be weak.

Swiss team trainer Jurgen Koschel has resigned as a result of the Swiss Equestrian Federation’s actions."

I wish to thank Alli Farkas for the whole story!

At What Point "No"?

2010-07-20T16:24:00Z

As an equine blogger I, and a bunch of other people, spew on and on with all that “horses being a partner” stuff.

I would like to bring up for your consideration the next logical part to that way of thinking. And more importantly if that next step isn’t feasible or logical, consider that it just might all be a bunch of bull.

Any thinking person, open to shifting sands, must be willing to acknowledge that at certain points in their life, their logic shifts and their way of thinking changes.

So what methods or belief we held as truth twenty years ago is something we’d never do today. We’ve evolved. Think of all the dubious things you've done with a horse twenty years ago and say that you would do it ALL today. For most of us (myself included) the answser is an unequivocal NO.

So today we are far more attentive to and wanting to “listen to the horse”. We preach of being a partner in the equine dance between horse and rider, blah blah blah.

But now what? What next?

Okay, so now we ride the horse. We work him day in and day out, trying to perfect ourselves and in turn, perfect the horses way of going.

We practice rhythm and our timing of the aids and the application of them. We do everything we can short of lighting candles, putting on Asian mood music, and praying to any entity who will listen in order we the Ying to better ride Yang.

We achieve equine nirvana and we begin to show. We advance quickly at first, and we’re able to place well too. If we're lucky and we've spent enough time and money we start to show with the big boys.

Then one day things become a little harder. But we’re doing so well showing and we’re leading in points even if it's just a small lead. We find ourselves in the position that one bad show with low test scores can be the difference between Yes and No. We have become serious and competitive.

So we push. We look for shortcuts. With a world watching (except maybe some FEI stewards because they can’t do a damn thing about it anyway) we MAKE things happen as opposed to the loftier mantra of allowing things to EVOLVE.

We have become that which we once loathed, though often we do not see it.

And often there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve developed ourselves and our lives around showing and winning especially if we're a trainer. Winning gives us prestige and prestige gives us money. And we need that money. We have to pay the farm rent or mortgage, pay the sky high prices and fees of showing and be able to (in lieu of spending our own money) convince someone else to either buy a horse for us to ride or allow us to ride their horse and to pay us for riding their horse. And we have to keep them convinced because at any time that person can wave buh bye and move on to the person who is doing the winning if we aren’t.

Everything depends on winning. EVERYTHING.

Pressure mounts and so does the pressure we put upon our horses. Some of us try and cheat a little when the horse starts coming up sore because coming up sore is just something that happens when you MAKE it happen instead of allowing things to EVOLVE.

People start to notice and begin to say things. Then some of them get mad at you and begin to say things on the internet. Global conversations begin with you as the topic and you find yourself being blamed for the demise of dressage as we know it and in some circles, the holocaust too. We become the subject of videos and of conversations about said videos.

We step up and defend ourselves yelling for anyone to hear that will listen stating how much we love our horse and how much education we have. Of course we love our horses because we speak nicely to them and feed them carrots and bananas when we're not contorting them in bizarre, unrecognizable positions.

Our education with some of the top folks in the world has taught us that we are more knowing than others as to what the real deal is, what the realities of living in this world entails in the horse world. We give ourselves the excuses we need, we give those same excuses to the world and we speak of how much more we know than every one else.

We have become that which we once loathed.

It’s apparent to others that now we’ve lost our way. Somewhere, at some point, things went askew.

How do we keep that from happening?

Remember at the very beginning I asked what the next step was? Well this is the point in the equation of things that the question must be both asked and answered.

My answer: The horse must always be the driver. The horse must always lead the way.

Next question:

Given todays show environment, is it even possible for the horse to lead the way?

I think maybe no, it isn't possible all the time especially as we reach higher levels.

It is my belief that as soon as the showing becomes complicated and entwined as an integral part of life’s set up that at some point it is no longer possible for the horse to be the driver. When things develop to the Olympic or World levels its obvious that showing has become quite complicated and has become entwined as an integral part of our lifes set up. And then there's the money. Always the money.

So I would ask, is there a point where the sport developed to preserve “training” has now become the very vehicle of its destruction?

At what point do we say “No”?

The answer is different to different people. I can afford to make my answer to completely listen to the horse and allow him to be the driver. I’m not currently showing or even driving towards some goal and time destination.

I have the luxury of my mantra being “I’ll do what evolves based up my frequency and intensity of rides and the horse wanting to and enjoying the training”.

Others are striving for some goal and that goal might be on a local, regional, national or global level.

The ones striving towards some goal are feeling the pressure. What will they do? What will we do?

In the end when we speak of being in harmony with our horses and of allowing the training to develop we can always talk the talk, but can we walk the walk?

Mentor Magic

2010-07-14T16:48:00Z

As you know I have just become a published author. In celebration of this event I write the following as a tribute to those I must credit. Were it not for them being there for me, I probably would not have taken on such an endeavor.

Mentor is a small, big word. Only six letters long its size conceals the life altering effect having a mentor can have on someone’s life, whether it is within or outside of the horse world.

I’ve been lucky enough to have had three mentors. Two of those were teachers and the third rather like a second mother to me. All three contributed equally to the forming of who I was to become, both in and outside the horse world.

The first, a high school teacher, probably has no idea that I consider him a mentor. He was the first to appreciate my quirky creativity and who told me I had a talent for writing. He believed in me and encouraged me as no one else had previously done and because of his encouragement I began to feel like I had an actual talent for something other than horses.

He would often tell me I was brilliant in my creativity and to be honest, I kind of liked that! Plus that kind of unbridled freedom I felt because of his unabashed endorsements really empowered me to become even more creative. No matter the writing assignment he would offer I’d find a way to swing the topic to have some sort of equine relevance.

There is one equine related story which has stayed fresh in my mind even after all these years.

He had given me an assignment and although I don’t remember specifically what the topic was to be, I do remember he wanted a lot of descriptive words to be used. He wanted us to form pictures with our words.

I remember thinking “I can do that”.

So I wrote a story about my relationship with my horse and in one section it went something like this:

“In quiet times, when it was just my horse and I sharing life silently with one another, I’d often find myself just gazing into his large, bright mahogany brown eyes. I’d relax with my face so close to his that his warm, sweet breath would gently caress the sensitive skin on my neck. I’d stare into those eyes for hours as he looked into the distance, and I wondered if he was seeing those things that were present now or perhaps remembering some distant time. Perhaps it was a memory of running with his mother and the other colts through lush fields of sweeping, fertile grass. Grass which colored so deeply green that in the amber hues of the setting sun would slowly fade to a deep and lavish blue. It was during one of these silent bonding moments that I spoke to him in velvet whisper, telling him of my love and admiration for him.

Then, he sneezed. Arrows of green snot shot at me as if suddenly released from a cannon, scattering like buckshot upon my white shirt. In an instant a lime green design boasted thinner in some spots, more robust in others.”

Suffice it to say he absolutely loved the piece. Loved it to the point as I had to stand up and read it to the whole class. As I read, I watched them get captured in the lofty moments of sunshine and teddy bears before I hit them with my arrows of green snot. Then, as the arrows struck their mark , I got to watch them become bewildered for a moment before the comprehension set in. Then of course I enjoyed the reaction with all it’s “ewwws” and “gross!” moans.

I was hooked. Look at the power I had to manipulate their little minds just with a flowery arrangement of some silly words. Yes, Mr. Ira Shatzman taught me that.

Not too long ago I googled his name and actually found him. We’ve spoken and I’ve told him how much he’s meant to me. It was his words which gave me the balls to start this. I also know he’s reading this now. How cool is that?

So, if I write anything stupid, you can just blame it on Mr. Shatzman…..

My next mentor was the mother of one of my equestrian friends. She too always supported me and in the horse world she had my back and would go to bat for me when I wanted to get involved in different areas in the horse world, whether it be showing or being active in equestrian or civic groups.

She taught me about people and their behaviors and how to fight long and hard for those things you believe in and she led by her own example. She would routinely fight stupidity with intelligence and her motives proved pure and noble.

She always spoke highly of me, both to me and to others. She actually believed I was a person worth knowing and she would scream it from the rooftops on my behalf were it needed.

Unfortunately she passed way too soon and way too young. I knew at the time of her passing that she meant the world to me but it wasn’t until afterward that I realized how truly significant her presence in my life had been. It wasn’t until real world struggles were made easier by the skills I’d acquired with her in the horse world that I fully realized the huge impact she’d made on my life.

See, that’s the thing with mentors; Often you don’t realize they are your mentor until they are gone.

My third mentor is solidly entrenched in the horse world as an internationally recognized dressage Master and if you’ve read my many blogs regarding him you know of whom I am speaking. A reading of those blogs makes it apparent why I would choose him. Besides, who better than to be a mentor than Walter A. Zettl. I can think of no better person.

I can only hope that each of you reading has your own mentor and that they are deserving of your trust and adoration.

Choose wisely.

Yankee Doodle

2010-07-02T04:53:00Z

Soon the great American summer holiday known as the 4th of July will be with us. This holiday, also named Independence Day, marks the day in history when the colonial representatives of the original 13 colonies signed the great document The Declaration of Independence pronouncing American independence from Britain and tyranny.

This holiday remains one of my favorites of the year, second only to Christmas. In addition to the wonderful Independence Day ceremonies, fireworks, national pride and the flying of flags, other traditions have evolved such as the great American art named “The Barbeque”.

So, in honor of this holiday I bring you this Revolutionary War tune tweeked in a DressageForTheRestOfUs kind of way. I would add that in the days of yesteryear, the term Yankee Doodle was meant as an unkind term often meaning “fool” and it’s in that context that I use it. It is not meant to refer to Americans, but rather to the folks I perceive to be riding “fools” riding in forced, held, manipulated, unnatural, unhealthy frames.

It’s meant to be sung to the familiar tune of “Yankee Doodle Dandy”

Yankee doodle rode dressage
On a giant pony
Shoved two bits in its mouth
And made its carriage phony

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

The show I saw was FEI
The riding very vexing
Horses staring at the ground
They called it hyperflexing

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I watched a team from overseas
They did a lot of winning
They rode with force and shortened necks
They did not see their sinning

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

So I asked the judge why high they scored
Short necks and phony frames
He look surprised in his eyes
And said it was their fame

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Then I heard a woman say
I’m just a stupid ammie
An amateur is too unsure
She really tried to slam me

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I turned to her and I did say
Just see the horse’s eyes
Every time you ride that way
His soul just mourns and dies

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Next to me there was this man
Who seemed quite in the know
He said I’m right with my eyesight
A Master known as Nu-no

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

The friend with him was very grim
He muttered like a whiner
What he saw just dropped his jaw
This Kleimke they called Reiner

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

And with them was another man
A Master worth his mettle
Exercises he did train
His name is Walter Zettl

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Then rode by a Ma-no-lo
Upon an Andulusian
Light and lofty he rode well
Classic’s not illusion

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Masters smiled as they did watch
A rider worth his salt
His horse went well they all could tell
And his horse could halt

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I wish I could go back and time
See Masters in a ride-off
All the ones who taught so well
And the man von Neindorff

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Now its time to train my horse
I have to find a trainer
Wanted one who did things right
Its really a no brainer

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

If I could wish a riders wish
I’d have them all to teach me
Happy horse result of course
Me so glad I’d peepee

Yankee doodle not so rough
Yankee not forced framed
Ride it right it’s out of sight
Plus the horse ain't lamed

Soul Disposable

2010-06-29T16:59:00Z

Since the beginning of time those humans who have shared their lives with horses have come to believe that horses, like people, have a soul. Proof of this is evident by all the writings, songs and poems speaking in regard to the horse, their spirits and their souls.

But what exactly does it mean to have a soul?

A quick peak at dictionary.com offers these definitions and I’ve highlighted in red those definitions applicable to horses, apart from the “must be a human to have a soul” component.

soul

/soʊl/ Show Spelled[sohl]

–noun

the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans, regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, and commonly held to be separable in existence from the body; the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part.

the spiritual part of humans regarded in its moral aspect, or as believed to survive death and be subject to happiness or misery in a life to come: arguing the immortality of the soul.

the disembodied spirit of a deceased person: He feared the soul of the deceased would haunt him.

the emotional part of human nature; the seat of the feelings or sentiments.

a human being; person.

high-mindedness; noble warmth of feeling, spirit or courage, etc.

the animating principle; the essential element or part of something.

the inspirer or moving spirit of some action, movement, etc.

the embodiment of some quality: He was the very soul of tact.

10.

( initial capital letter ) Christian Science . God; the divine source of all identity and individuality.

11.

shared ethnic awareness and pride among black people, esp. black Americans.

12. deeply felt emotion, as conveyed or expressed by a performer or artist.

13.

soul music.

–adjective

14.

of, characteristic of, or for black Americans or their culture: soul newspapers.

Origin:
bef. 900; ME; OE sāwl, sāwol; c. D ziel, G Seele, ON sāl, Goth saiwala

According to that definition, a definition which is human specific, it would seem that there is not a worldwide consensus that horses do in fact have a soul, yet to us it seems blatantly obvious that they do.

I have no doubt that most of horsemen along with millions of people worldwide believe that horses (and most animals) do in fact have a soul.

But do we treat our horses in accordance with this belief?

For way too long horses have been forced to perform our whims for us and often to their own detriment. Throughout history millions of horses have met an unfortunate end doing all those crazy things we’ve told them to do, like charging into battle.

Amazingly enough horses did it and still do our bidding. Some things they do because they want to please us. Sometimes they comply because they are forced to do so under threat of pain or the presence of actual pain. Shame on us when such is the case.

So we as horsemen find ourselves in a position to either believe horses have a soul, or that they do not and then to act in accordance with our beliefs.

If you don’t believe horses have a soul then there’s very little I can say to change your blind mind. If you haven’t seen that presence in a horse’s eye or how they interact with you then you are pretty much a lost cause and beyond any reasoning I can offer. You might as well stop reading now. Go play in traffic with explosives or something.

But if you DO believe that horses have a soul then I ask that you stop and think about what that really means.

Any being with a soul has a sense of self-awareness, feelings and emotions. There will be a response to kindness as well as a response to pain. As horsemen we like to pride ourselves on being kind and effective riders, but are we really?

When a rider hasn’t fully developed their seat and rides off balance or bounces unmercifully upon a horse’s back we can easily cause pain. If the horse reacts negatively to that pain we often subject it to punishment and even more pain and discomfort. Often, our bad riding leads to lameness or other soreness issues to the horse. In these situations we have failed to be kind and effective riders.

Humans also have a tendency to become rough in their training and we have become so blind to it, so complacent that we don’t even SEE the abuse. Case in point is a natural horsemanship trainer that I’ve seen on TV, one who routinely jerks the living crap out of the horses he handles and watching it makes me wince. Yet someone must think he’s good because he has his own TV show!

It could also be argued that there are varying levels ranging from dampening of the spirit to discomfort to pain to out and out abuse.

When a rider uses rough training tactics or equipment which is ill fitting, uncomfortable or is used as a weapon against the horse (like a bit) we are again failing to be kind and effective riders.

When a rider hasn’t obtained the skill to use exercises to achieve wanted goals and resorts to force it is likewise wrong.

When a rider uses force (like the type of riding seen in fixed hand rolkur/hyperflexion positions) in order to achieve goals quickly it is again wrong. The crying shame is that organizations such as the FEI no longer view prolonged discomfort or damage of the spirit or soul as inhumane. The FEI, by its latest proclamations has decided that the definition of undesirable riding is ONLY through the use of aggressive force. Discomfort and passive approaches to causing pain is just fine by them.

To my mind, this is akin to saying that among humans abuse can only be in a physical form and not in a mental or emotional form. Yet we all know that mental or emotional abuse is just as taxing upon the spirit and health of the individual as physical abuse. Yet for some reason we fail to see that comparison when it comes to horses.

That sucks.

So what are we to do to honor our horses, respect their souls and yet get the job done? How do we keep our goal oriented selves from getting greedy and rushing training or causing pain or discomfort in order to achieve them?

We need to learn technique and to work as hard as we can to perfect our balance, timing and skills. Then we must be patient and never, ever greedy.

This is challenging for us humans because humans do greed very well. Olympic equestrian tradition seems to have moved from the art of the ride to the want of the win and that’s greed.

I think that sucks too.

However, the first part of changing something is being aware that it needs to be changed and we’re at a point where many of us have come to that awareness.

It is likewise as disheartening to our humanly fragile egos to acknowledge that although we’ve owned horses for twenty years that we still do not know enough and we still cannot ride well enough to keep from causing the horse pain and discomfort. It’s hard to admit that when we push the horse to go in a zillion classes at a zillion horse shows that it just might be pushing the horse to its breaking point – and I do mean BREAKING.

Sorry to say as a horseman I do not have all the answers and probably never will. I, like the rest of us, do my best to keep my horse’s work pleasant yet effective. I try my best to educate myself and to ride to the limit, but never ever over.

In my own riding this currently equates to my getting my horse to use his back end enough to lift his front end even more than he already has. It’s a slow process but a necessary one. Constantly I have to go back to scratch and if I haven’t been able to ride as consistently as I want to I’ll come across those rides where I must have the self-discipline not to be greedy for more. Sometimes, less IS more.

It’s hard not to get carried away sometimes especially following a good ride. We seem eager to try and force a duplication of the wonderful ride, but that never works.

So I ask that the next time you ride you consider the horse’s soul in all that you do. Just because a horse can be replaced doesn’t mean that soul is replaceable - EVER.

If your horse is the type to try his heart out it would be simply criminal to take advantage of that, and soon you’ll run out of heart. When that happens a horse loses much of his magnificence.

For me adherence to this code means patiently doing my exercises, taking things as they come – as they are offered. I constantly try to add to my knowledge and expertise and I’ve learned that when I do things correctly my horse is very likely to also do things correctly.

I’ve had a lot of fun on my rides and I see the constant progress and am grateful for them. I may run out of time or ability (in either me or the horse or both) to get him to FEI levels, but with what is getting rewarded in FEI competition I’m pretty alright with that.

Especially when I consider his emotion, his soul and how precious and fragile it can be, just like ours. I’d rather be a good lower level partner that a shitty higher level source of pain and irritation who gets to wear a top hat so I can feel good about myself.

If there is an afterlife and souls can join there it would be thing of dreams. I imagine my horse and I in piaffe and passage, the two of us moving as if one, lasting for eternity.

Yes, this thought has made me smile. I want that.

Bath, As Art

2010-06-22T16:26:00Z

Throughout my life, giving a horse a bath wasn’t really that complicated. It basically required bringing a horse to a water source, turning on the water and then bathing it. Sometimes you use shampoo, but most often I don’t as I think it dulls the coat and I’ve always been known for having shiny horses.

All my life with horses the hose would spit out one thing: cold water. The only exception was if the hose had been laying in the sun in the summer and then it would come out hot for a minute or two then eventually run cold again..

Then I got this horse, this sensitive Thoroughbred. He never stood still for baths and now I’ve discovered the reason. He hates cold water baths! Even when it’s two thousand degrees outside and you’d think a cold bath would be a welcome thing, it wasn’t.

Now I am at a new barn and this barn has both hot and cold running water. Mr. Sensitive is now in his glory. Bathing Mr. Sensitive Thoroughbred has now evolved into an art form. In some ways it has expanded my understanding of my partner, my horse, and how truly sensitive he is. On the other hand, it’s a little bit annoying.

Stoic is not a word I would ever apply to my horse. He lets you know from the very moment you are near him that he wants to communicate and he makes every effort to. When a human isn’t smart enough to “get it” he gets annoyed. When a human reacts with violence he simply gets pissed.

Now in the summer every day is another bathing opportunity. Sometimes baths come prior to work, sometimes afterwards, sometimes instead of.

With last weekend so hot and ridiculously humid, the bath without riding was the best option for us. We’re not in training for anything so there was no harm in missing a ride and even if there was something to prepare for I probably wouldn’t have worked him, opting instead for an early morning ride the next day.

Now remember, more than anything, Mr. Sensitive loathes cold water. No matter how hot it is he just does not want that cold water hitting his skin. If you were to use it on him you would see his entire belly just suck up into his back, and he does his pissed off dance.

So here I am last weekend and I can tell my horse is looking forward to a bath as he walked quite energetically to the wash stall and backed himself in like a well driven tractor trailer.

I clipped him to the crossties and then began to run the water, my own hand testing the temperature. Throughout the bath my hand retests the water constantly (several times a minute) to make sure there isn’t some sudden temp change which also tends to annoy my horse.

He’s special, isn’t he?

I often wonder if aliens were watching us from space which creature they would think was master, and which is slave. I’m sure you’re familiar with that feeling! Of course we're both more like partners, but I'm just sayin'.....

Slowly I made my way along his body starting with the legs, then shoulder and neck and then the butt. The last part of the body is the back and stomach and after that I move to the other side starting the whole process again. Once he’s good and wet I take my fingernails and give him a nice gentle scratch on his neck, under his mane and all over his various itchy spots which I’ve come to know.

He stretched his neck out and made that cute lip pursing until he wanted me to move on, Then he shifted a step and I knew it was time to move on to the next itchy spot. This went on for both sides of the body and eventually that was done. He ended up with a lengthy scratchy massage. I ended up with ick nails. No matter how clean the horse, if you scratch them with your nail black crud will always be embedded under the nail. There apparently is no such thing as light colored horse crud.

After that I hosed the whole body off again for awhile, switching from side to side, letting the gentle shower of the hose remove any other dirt bits from his skin. I knew they were there, I could tell from my nails.

I should mention that I’m only allowed to set the hose nozzle to “shower”. Mr. Sensitive doesn’t like it any other way.

Eventually the bath was over and I realized that for him it was more a spa treatment than a bath. He was happy and energetically walked backed to his stall, grabbed a bite of hay, demanded some more treats and not so patiently awaited the arrival of his afternoon grain.

With all that done he settled in to contently munch his hay.

I watched him and giggled to myself as I could never imagine Mr. Sensitive running in the wild. Yes, I do believe he likes his life just the way it is, even being able to teach his human to change a bath from just a bath into a carefully orchestrated art form.

Bastard.

Stink, Stank, Stunk

2010-06-18T16:54:00Z

I’m happy to be back! Please excuse my short respite from blogging as I was trying to develop the next generation of my blog – DressageForTheRestOfUs 2.0 as it were. It’s still not done, but I didn’t want to stay away any longer. I’ll just have to add more piece by piece.

An experience over the weekend has provided the fodder for this next essay. I hope you enjoy it and can identify with at least part of the experience.

We are all very busy people, especially us amateurs trying to juggle a multitude of things in one day. In the winter it’s often easier in one respect: It’s a lot less complicated stopping to do an errand after the barn. You tend not to be as icky. But in the summer, it can be most problematic and embarrassing at best.

I don’t know about you, but I won’t shower before going to the barn. There just doesn’t seem to be a point to it all since you have to fling yourself into the shower when you get home anyway. So last weekend I spent the morning doing gardening chores in the heat then returned to the air conditioning to cool down and have some lunch.

Afterwards I pulled on breeches and barn clothes and jumped into the car. On the way to the barn I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a gigantic coffee and uncharacteristically decided to get a jelly donut as well. Since it had been so long since I’d had a donut I figured I deserved that jelly donut.

I knew my day’s agenda called for three things for me to do: go to barn, stop at feed store for animal food and then stop at a grocery store to pick up a few goodies to go along with dinner.

I got to the barn in the afternoon and it was hot, too hot to really work the horse in the sticky indoor given the high humidity. I decided since it was so hot and humid to take my horse instead for a “relaxing” walk around the farm. I figured it would take about ½ hour to walk around and this way my horse wouldn’t be all hot, sweaty and hard to cool down before he ate his afternoon meal.

It seemed the perfect plan. Really, it did.

When I got to the barn I took my horse from his stall and began to brush him. I noticed that despite the heat my horse was a bit antsy. Normally in that situation I’d work him in the indoor first but I decided to just suck it up, plop a crash helmet on and just go for a farm perimeter trail ride and see what happens. Either I’d live or I’d die but since I’ve never managed to die before I figured the odds were in my favor of living. I believed I could trust him enough and I figured I had to respect my own skills for keeping him focused as well.

My horse seemed very eager to start his ride so I figured if he was eager to please then maybe he’d be “eager to listen” too.

From the moment I swung a leg over his back he was ready for the races. Ready to spook at any given thing…. That bird maybe. Or that tree. Perhaps that tall evil looking weed would be his undoing. He was so incredibly stoked a funny looking cloud in the sky would have spooked him.

I decided to give him stuff to think about rather than him IMAGINING stuff to think about and I began working him in a level area and started immediately doing shoulder in to haunches in, mini half passes and walk/trot/walk transitions. Every minute or so his head would swing up as he’d look into the distance making sure Godzilla wasn’t approaching. He’d swing his head this way to look for Godzilla every two minutes or so.

I began to sing his little song and walked him on in a long, ground covering walk. I had to ride every step forward, always going forward. He began to swing his neck and bob his head to the rhythm of my off tune song.

He apparently appreciates my crappy voice. Lord knows no one else does.

I then mixed in more walk/trot/walk transitions seeing how light we could be. The transitions also helped unlock his jaw which would become like concrete every time he would perk up his head to look into the distance. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as sensitive as he normally is, and needed heavier aids, but after a while I was able to lighten them up significantly. You would think that him being so “amped” he’d be more sensitive, but as it turns out the opposite was true.

At that point I rode off to the perimeter trail, praying no deer was planning on popping into or across our path. Sudden deer appearances would probably not go over too well especially given the path was only about ten feet wide and once side sported electrified fencing.

I then found myself quickly wondering what would transpire if I were to fall into the electrified fence and one part of my body, say a leg, would go into a water trough. Would it sound the same way as a mosquito hitting a bug zapper? Would the barn end up smelling like BBQ me?

He spooked once, and it was one of those spooks that happen in place. Excellent! I’m glad he no longer does that spin and spook he was so fond of when I first got him ten years ago.

I continued to ride every step, my body moving with his in order to proactively make my desired destiny of the ride being uneventful. This began me thinking that surely every stride is a decision. Every stride necessitates a conversation with the horse.

The conversation begins with you feeling each stride, listening to the joining of your bodies. For each stride the conversation is “Feel, decide, act”. You ‘feel’ where the horse is at body and mind wise, deciding if it’s desirable and if correction is required. If correction is required then you must act correctly to change the undesirable to desirable. If all is well you do nothing until the next stride where the process begins all over again.

It’s such a delicate thing this conversation that there isn’t time to think really, just feel. Familiarity with equitation and with your horse should make it possible for your reaction to occur in a nanosecond just like an ingrained physical response like swatting at a biting mosquito.

Famed English eventer Lucinda Green calls it “A constant nuturing of the marriage between horse and rider”. I like that description.

The rest of the ride he was real “looky” but never took a wrong step. His black tipped ears were very active, listening to me as I rambled on talking to him. “Come along you big bum, just walk, you know you’re okay. Good boy, C’mon you big ole bum, you big ole jerk.”

What you say isn’t as important as how you say it.

Such conversation continued and when I returned him to the barn he was only the slightest bit warm and I was able to give him a nice shower, beginning with warm water and slowly graduating to cooler water, but never cold. He hates cold water.

Well, by the end of all this my horse was cool and clean but I was a hot, tired, dirty, smelly, sweaty mess and I still had two stops to make! This walking stuff was murder! Thank goodness I was wearing breeches because at least when smelly me entered a store people would see the breeches and at least know why I am so smelly.

On the way to my first stop, the feed store, I began to eat the jelly donut I’d bought as a little treat hours before but hadn’t yet eaten. Since it had been months since I’ve last eaten any donut I was looking forward to the treat. Well as I was happily munching, a big glob of purple jelly fell, landing with a purple splat right in the middle of my chest. Almost looked like a shot gun blast. The splat was about three inches across. I tried to wipe it off, but apparently there is no way to remove a three inch jelly donut splat from your light colored riding shirt.

So now I’m smelly and jelly stained in a very big way.

I went to the feed store and thankfully it was empty. Quick as I could I made my purchases and left.

Next was the grocery store. That too was empty and I rushed my purchases. The lady behind the counter was familiar with me, but couldn’t help giving my appearance the once-over.

I felt so very pretty…. Not! I almost felt obligated to explain my appearance to her, but I couldn’t think of way to do that without making things sound worse.

I drove home and literally dove into the shower, embarrassed but none the worse for wear. As I showered I thought of how many dirty, sweaty horsemen were at this very moment experiencing this very same thing, no matter where they are in the world.

Later on in the day I spoke of my dirty, smelly day to a friend over the phone. She told me that perhaps this one our way of connecting with our ‘primitive’ selves. I said “Nah, let’s face it……. We all just stink”. There is no redemption from the stink other than the fact that the dirtier we are, the cleaner and fresher our horses are.

Horse dirt is universal isn’t it?!