In a galaxy far, far away now

Rogue Hills Galaxy

April 11, 1990 – August 15, 2023

Axel was the once-in-a-lifetime horse for both of us who had the privilege of owning, training and showing him. Long gone from my barn now, but forever in my heart.

Photos for you; CliffsNotes for me (edited)

I was curious about just how many years it's been since I have had a dressage lesson, so I searched through my blog. (Excellent source of reference, a blog, which is why I'm going to post my lesson notes here – so I can review what we did.) I had my last lesson with Julie in the spring of 2017, just before Lance's health took a sharp dive. My last riding lesson with Suzan was in 2014 on Lance, which was more of a consolation on saddle fit and discomfort. (Poor Lance; our journey together has not been what I hoped for or expected....)

So I was both excited and a little trepidatious about Stella's and my lesson Wednesday. Have I gotten into all kinds of bad habits working by myself for so long? Have I given Stella have a decent foundation to build upon? Could we progress from where we are, or would Suzan need to tear things down to build them back correctly?

When we arrived, the rider before me had cancelled, so Suzan asked if I wanted to start right away. Oh, o-kaaay; I could hustle and get Stella tacked up and ready. Then she asked if we were doing a long-lining lesson (remember, she gave Stella and I two long-lining lessons last fall) or a riding lesson. When I responded, "Riding," she asked, "Are you going to lunge her first?" Well, no, I never do. "You're just going to climb on?!?" Well, yes, that's what I always do. Now Suzan was trepidatious; she was remembering my skittish, reactive girlie of last fall and clearly thought I was crazy. 😉

But after a few minutes of worrying about Stella freaking out (she didn't), Suzan settled in to doing what she does best: observe with the keenest eye I know, identify precisely what needs to happen, and expertly instruct the rider on how to achieve it. Before our seven-year hiatus, I took many years of clinics and lessons from Suzan (although I could only afford to see her once a month at most); my first Morgan and I never could have reached the FEI levels without her. So just like riding a bike (riding a horse?), I started following her familiar instructions and felt my little mare transform beneath me. Oh, Stella still had lots of 'moments,' but Suzan attributed those to her teething process. (Since Rick checked her teeth, one canine tooth has erupted and two others can be felt beneath the surface of her gums. We shortened Stella's headstall by a hole to better accommodate them.) Towards the end, Suzan grabbed some cell phone shots. I'm pretty pleased with what I see; look at my dressage Morgan!

Now for my CliffsNotes:

(Edited after riding; remembered more things!)

Shorten reins! (Old refrain. I ended up with REALLY short reins at the trot. I must keep the slack out of the reins to keep the bit from bouncing/bumping her and aggravating those emerging canines.) Keep thumbs up, knuckles in, fingers closed, elbows soft, hands apart. Keep lower back relaxed. Follow her head with my hands to keep the connection straight, not broken; if she raises her head, raise hands. (That can feel REALLY high.) She'll bring it back down and connect (sometimes only briefly, but we'll string moments together).

Look at her ears, not the ground; ride her straight with nose between ears so she can use her hocks. Turn her whole body, not her nose. (The first clinician I ever rode with said it should feel like turning a bus, which is a good mental image for me.)

If quick at the walk, half-halt with legs and body only, not hands, for 4-5 strides, then release. (Later in the lesson, Suzan said to take her to the trot when she got quick.) At the trot, slow her by slowing posting rhythm. When giving her a walk break, let her stretch halfway, not clear to the buckle. To encourage her to soften over the topline and stretch, use slow (over several strides) flexes with my wrist; nothing quick.

This was the first time I've ridden using bluetooth earpieces. Suzan called me on my iPhone from her cell phone so she didn't wear herself out trying to project her voice, and it worked well. Next time I'm going to see if I can get video footage of our lesson using my Pivo at the same time; we may also try some lessons via Pivo in the future. Times, they are a-changin'!

And now that I've refreshed my memory after giving Stella her usual Thursday off, I'm going out to see how well I can repeat the lesson's progress.

Immersion

For the first time in a long time, I got to immerse myself in dressage this weekend. I happily hung out with horse friends and enjoyed watching some superb equines, even though it made me wistful for what once was. It seems a lifetime ago when I  advanced my skills with regular clinics and/or lessons, trained and competed with an equine partner, braided mane and wore tall boots, even won awards. Even harder is not knowing if those things will ever be a part of my life again. (I may forever stay one score away from my USDF Silver Medal....)

Saturday night was the Oregon Dressage Society awards banquet and silent auction. I picked up my friend Kate and we joined other members of our local chapter (which kindly paid for our weekend's activities) – and not a whole lot of others! The food was good, the awardees were inspiring (some of them amazingly so), the silent auction provided some great shopping (I got a long-sleeved ODS t-shirt, a fleece ODS vest, a fleece ODS headband, and an ODS magnet for my trailer), and the keynote speaker, Olympian Lisa Wilcox, made me eager to attend the next day's activities.

on the way to Kate's house

So early Sunday morning I picked up Kate again and we headed through beautiful countryside to Whip & Spur Farm, once the home and training facility of Rich Fellers, another Olympian (in Show Jumping). There we got to watch as Lisa taught eight different horse/rider combinations with a consistent message of keeping a correct position and posture while making a million and one transitions – within each gait, not between them. You could tell she was taught by a 29-year veteran of the Spanish Riding School, where students sometimes spend years without reins or stirrups, perfecting their own position in order to be able to properly influence their horse's way of going.

at Whip & Spur

I took photos of all eight horses, but video of only two, so I decided to only keep and share photos of the two I filmed. Both of these horses were poetry in motion, the chestnut a five-year-old filly (ridden by a young trainer Kate won two lessons with in the silent auction), and the other a 12-year-old gelding.

Events like this always inspire me to go home and dance with my own horse – so I did! By the time I got Lance saddled the sun had set, so we walked up the hill to capture this photo before going back to the arena to dance.

 Our schooling session felt good, and Lance ended with a foamy mouth, always a good sign.

Even if we never set foot again in a show arena, we can dance!

End of an era

I've had a new post started for weeks, and have added and edited often in my mind. There is much to say and nothing to say when your partner has a chronic condition, but that's all I have to say about that tonight.

Rick got paged earlier, and left to pay one final visit to Russell, my old partner, the horse in my header, the big guy who took such wonderful care of Brian when he was a little guy, along with being my dancing partner. He has been having increasing instability due to neck issues, and tonight he can't get up. It breaks my heart, yet I am so thankful to have had him in my life and then to have found a retirement home where he could live out his days happily, and be treated compassionately at the end.

Good-night and good-bye, Special Majesty. You were, indeed,

SPECIAL

Sadness and joy

It's been a tough 24 hours or so. When I got home from work yesterday, there was an email waiting in my inbox. One of our dressage chapter members was killed in a head-on crash Monday (news report here), just 10 miles from here. She was to retire this week; her husband had just retired on Saturday, and they were looking forward to retirement together. Eight days earlier we were at a Christmas party together, having a lovely time; now she is gone. It's been weighing heavy on my heart, my head; my coping skills are shot.

Blessed with a dry day, I took Lance out for a Christmas Eve ride. We warmed up in the arena, then went down the gravel lane. I thought about Kristy and her two horses, about how unpredictable life is. I look forward to heaven, but feel the loss here and now nonetheless.

“So you must match time's swiftness with your speed in using it, and you must drink quickly as though from a rapid stream that will not always flow.”

—Seneca, On the Shortness of Life

Feelin' left out

Recently a blogpal posted photos from a dressage show she competed in. I recognized it as the same venue where Lance debuted at Training Level two years ago. Now a trainer I know and love is posting photos of her students schooling and showing at Devonwood, a gorgeous facility nearby where I have competed many times through Prix St. George, just not with Lance.

Our rides are limited to going down the lane and through whatever agricultural ground I have permission to use; there's no point in paying for a lesson with Julie when we haven't been able to school the tools she gave us last time. This is a far different reality than I used to inhabit. I miss working towards goals and getting feedback on how well we are accomplishing them; I miss the camaraderie of other equestrians; I miss getting my horse and myself spiffed up to dance in front of an audience, then entertaining questions about his breeding.

But I have much to be thankful for, and I shall focus on that....

Back to the future

Today my friend Kate took delivery on her new horse, a four-year-old Welsh Cob named Dinah. I think I was as excited as she was!

Kate and I became friends nearly 24 years ago, shortly after we moved to Oregon. We lived near each other, both had horses, and spent countless hours riding together – in her little arena, on roads and trails near our homes, on the beach, and at clinics and horse shows. Then she sold all her "big" horses and got "little" horses – miniatures. While we've remained friends, I've missed my riding buddy. Turns out she's missed riding, too!

Kate's birthday is coming up, so for her birthday I want to take her and our horses to the beach where Rick took us for my birthday. I've already arranged for a sitter for December 8; now we just need the weather to cooperate!

Poignant memories

Lance and I have had to work around road construction in the arena this week:

Brian used to play in the sand often while I schooled Russell, the horse in my header. But he hasn't touched these toys for years. What inspired my lanky 11-year-old to dig them out of the weeds and make tracks and hills in the sand on Sunday, I'll never know. Seeing them there Sunday evening when I took Lance out for a schooling session brought back memories and tugged at my heart.

I schooled Lance Sunday and Monday, then gave him yesterday and today off while we endured a late-summer sneaker wave of heat. He hung out in the pasture with Ollie and Breezy – but not Sam, Rick's old cutting horse. We let Sam hang out in the barn so he didn't have to move far for food and water.

Brian noticed that Sammy wasn't eating with the other horses Tuesday morning, so Rick brought him in and examined him carefully. Sam's body condition has really gone downhill over the last couple of years, in spite of the calories we are pouring to him; he can't afford to lose his appetite. Then there's his labored breathing, which has been noticeable for months. An ultrasound of his chest didn't look normal, but his bloodwork is. He could be suffering from congestive heart failure, or cancer, or – who knows. At age 27, there isn't really any more that can be done. My husband has made a lot of memories with and on that horse over the last 20 years, and the prospect of putting him down is tugging on ALL our heartstrings....

Gettin' itchy

Since discovering that my old Wintec doesn't bite Lance's back, I've been riding out and about on the hill every chance I get. Even though the available territory has been severely curtailed by various kinds of development, riding where I can still brings back lots of memories of years and horses past. I think that is why I have a fierce itch to go to the beach and ride. My beach-riding buddy (who no longer has "big" horses) reminded me recently that we used to haul our horses to the beach once a week – back when we both obviously had way more time and much lower fuel costs!

Last night before taking Lance out for a hack, I measured his foot to see if my EasyBoots are the right size for him. Nope; they are size 2; he needs size 3. (Anyone need a lightly used pair of EasyBoot Epics?) Fortuitously, Laura had forwarded to me an email promotion for Cavallo Simple Boots with her personal recommendation, so this morning I ordered a pair of those. Lance has really good feet and I've been keeping him off the gravel roads as much as possible, but we would have more riding options if I wasn't avoiding rocks.

And yes, Lance is itchy, too. It has been unusually hot here for May, and the horses can't get out of their winter coats fast enough for comfort. Lance really appreciates a good neck or chest scratch, along with a thorough grooming; it's been awhile since I've had a horse who does!

Looking back and looking forward

My Oregon Dressage Society awards came in the mail this week. Rather than sticking them on a shelf with at least two other years' worth, I decided to pull out my plaque and get them all mounted.

Wow, that represents a whole lot of my horse history! The only dressage horses not included are Silver Ciera, a Paint we owned when I was first introduced to the sport, and Lance. In a year I will be adding a plate for Lancelot Dun Dino with at least the results of the two shows we already have under our belt/girth. Three years from now I hope to need another plaque!

My back is feeling enough better that I hope to ride a little bit on Sunday. Lunging is not a very effective method of conditioning or schooling Lance. I've been calling him lazy, but it has occurred to me that a lazy horse would not be so quick to engage with me at every opportunity. I mean, if he's turned out in the arena and I call, he trots up to me. A lazy horse wouldn't bother, or at best would take his sweet time. No, I think Lance just doesn't see the point in going around in circles, at the end of a lunge line OR under saddle. I may have to bite the bullet – or, more accurately, take a bite out of my bank account – and have shoes put on him the next time the farrier is here. That way we can ride out and about on the hill's gravel lanes. Years ago when I was training Axel (Rogue Hills Galaxy on the plaque), we did most of our schooling on roads and in fields; I had to haul somewhere to use an arena. I always said that our accomplishments (USDF All-Breed Awards from First Level through Prix St. George) would seem even more impressive if people knew the unconventional path we took to reach them! (Unfortunately, most of the fields, orchards and logging roads I had access to then are no longer available.)

Split personality

I did end up riding Cohort for a short time late on Friday, after I felt rested and it started cooling off. I lunged him a bit and then rode him at the walk and trot with lots of bending lines to keep him listening to me. He felt "sticky" – not forward – but I chalked it up to the hot day and his lack of conditioning (he had most of the last two months off after getting a stone bruise).

Yesterday evening I saddled him up again, and mounted up without lunging first. It felt like I was astride a keg of dynamite! He didn't do anything, but he was clearly tense and wasn't walking out of it. No need to take chances; I got off and fitted him with the lunge line and side-reins and put him to work that way. No problems there; his ground manners and work the lunge line are impeccable.

After a bit I got back on; ah, much better! For awhile. Then he decided he was done. I've heard this has been the sticking point in the past; Cohort has bucked when he wanted to be done and his rider insisted he was not done yet. I was determined to be the one calling the shots, but equally determined to avoid bucking. I managed to do so by keeping him moving with those bending lines, and halting only when he would do so without trying to yank the reins out of my hands.

In processing all I've learned from his owner and my own observation, I think Cohort may be ring-sour – at the tender age of five. :-/  The antidote, of course, would be keeping him out of the arena – out on trails, or at the beach. But it would be foolish to go out by myself, and the number of riding buddies available to me has diminished to maybe one possibility.

How times – and people's lives – have changed! Years ago I had friends (and friends of those friends) who could head to the beach or mountains with a little notice – and much less expense in fuel. Now one of those friends lives in Hawaii – without horses. Another moved to Montana – with horses. A third is working full-time with a disabled husband at home; she still has horses but little time and even less energy. A fourth switched from big horses to miniature horses, and stays extremely busy globe-trotting for the business she and her husband own. I now have a son, which means less time and money and more responsibilities – including the responsibility to stay safe in order to be able to raise him....