Goal-setting

Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars.    —Les Brown

One of the things I love about dressage is having goals. You start with basics, and by building strength upon strength, skill upon skill, all while constantly refining communication between horse and rider, you can eventually achieve a level of harmonious partnership and fluid performance that rivals the world's best competitive ballroom couples.

Of course with Horton, I had to start before the basics; he needed an attitude adjustment first! Now we are working on the basics, so it is time to start setting some goals.

From the beginning, my ultimate goal has been for Horton to be a safe, pleasant mount for his owner to enjoy for the rest of his life. Achieving some interim goals will help demonstrate – as much for the owner's trainer as for the owner – that Horton is making strides in reaching my ultimate goal for him. To that end I've entered him in a dressage schooling show just four short weeks from today! I figure we should be able to manage Intro Level, Tests B and C. As long as Horton goes into the ring and gives me an honest effort without any balkiness, he'll be a star in my eyes.

Once upon a time...

. . . don't all fairy tales start that way? Yes, once upon a time, I attended the Oregon State Fair with my toddler and husband. Rick was the horse show vet for the day, so we spent a fair amount of our time at that venue.

Just outside the warm-up arena, I noticed a handsome horse . . . a strikingly handsome stallion. He was standing there saddled but riderless, calm and quiet, while many of the horses being warmed up acted less than well trained. I wandered over to get a closer look, and struck up a conversation with the horse's owner. He introduced me to Dino, his adopted Kiger mustang who was rounded up by the BLM as a four-year-old (a fact that made his gentlemanly demeanor even more impressive). After watching Dino move, I was so enamored that I wished out loud for a good mare he could service in order to see what he could produce for a dressage mount – he was that nice!

Riddle Me Dino

But I didn't have a mare; I had Russell, and I was very happy with him. He was progressing nicely in dressage and taking excellent care of my little boy:

Brian scaling "Mt. Russell" just days after that fateful State Fair

The horse my dad called "one in 20,000"

Fast forward seven years to this summer. I was leasing Larry and wishing for a horse to call my own. Having given Russell away to the perfect semi-retirement home, I had no budget to speak of. I had looked at a couple horses owned by clients of Rick's who owed him money, but we either couldn't work out a trade or the horses weren't what I was interested in. Then two different friends almost simultaneously suggested I look into adopting a horse from the BLM. So look into it I did, and in the process, learned: 1) "mustangs" can be a mixture of TB remount, ranch horse and draft blood, which could result in a very nice dressage-type horse; 2) a friend of a friend could get me into the closest holding facility to get a good look at prospects; 3) I could afford the adoption fee of $125 and even get it gentled for free through the Trainer Incentive Program; and 4) Kevin Sink, that stunning Kiger stallion's owner, is an approved T.I.P. trainer. (THAT was a blast from the past; I hadn't thought much about them nor could I have recalled the names of horse or owner without this development.) I started getting excited about a road trip to potentially choose my new partner.

But that plan was derailed – or at least moved onto a sidetrack – by two things. First, the BLM's holding facility in Burns, OR was closed to visitors due to a big influx of newly rounded up horses thanks to huge range fires in their herd management areas. And second, just as I was wrapping up Larry's month of training for his new owner, my friend Sylvia called, urging me to take Horton in for training. Seeing as we needed the additional income, I put thoughts of getting my own horse on the back burner and agreed.

In August, while my son was visiting my folks in Texas, Rick invited me to ride with him to a vet appointment over at the coast. He figured we could take advantage of the rare opportunity to have a date after he finished his call. So off we went. In the course of visiting with the client, she mentioned breeding for buckskins or duns because she and her daughter show on that circuit. With a newly refreshed memory, I piped up, "I know which stallion I'd use in that case!" When she asked which one, I said, "Kevin Sink's Kiger stallion." The client laughed out loud and pointed to the horse in the corner stall – a tall, good-looking colt who had already caught my eye – and said, "That's his daddy!" She had bred her short palomino mustang mare to Dino in hopes of getting a short Western-type filly, but instead got Lancelot, a tall, English-type gelding. The only part of her wishes that was fulfilled was the red dun packaging! I rued aloud that I didn't have space or budget to take him off her hands, and Rick and I bid her and her lovely colt good-bye.

On September 7 my phone rang. It was Rick's client, asking if I would be interested in Lance. She had put him in training at a barn here in the valley for the month of September in order to see what he was best suited for in order to market him. After the first ride or two the trainer said "dressage," and suggested the owner call me. I reiterated that I had no space or money; she offered to keep Lance for the cost of hay until I had space available, and trade out his purchase price on her vet bill. Then she suggested I go try him out, and the rest is history . . . most of it still waiting to be written – and ridden.

"Well, look who's coming through the door
I think we've met somewhere beforeHello love, hello love
Where in the world have you been so long?I've missed you so since you've been goneHello love, hello love
Make yourself feel right at homeI'll hope you plan on staying longCome in love, come in love
I must say I was sure surprisedYou're the last thing I expected byHello love, hello love
I've heard it said time and againYou'll often go back where you've beenI really didn't believe it was trueBut I left the door unlocked for you
I'll try to please you in every wayAssure you of a pleasant stayThis time love, this time love...."

If you go looking for trouble...

...you'll probably find it. Well, that's exactly what happened at my new partner's pre-purchase exam last Friday. Only we really didn't have to go looking for it; Lance (that's his barn name) was lame when I led him out of his stall! We didn't notice it quite that fast; before leading Lance out of the barn Rick checked his eyes, ears, teeth, heart rate, neurological signs, and sole sensitivity. Then I led Lance outside where Rick had me walk him in a very small figure eight, then trot him straight away and back. Rick first spotted the lameness at the walk; I saw the head-bob at the trot. My heart dropped. I had checked Lance out three times without seeing or feeling anything amiss; neither the owner nor trainer had ever seen him take a lame step in his life. (The owner has had Lance since conception, and is a client of Rick's; we also know and trust the trainer.)

We proceeded to the flexion tests (pictured previously), and the lameness increased markedly after flexing the right front. At that point Rick asked me if I wanted to walk away, or investigate further. Of course I wanted to know what was wrong, so Rick set up his ultrasound machine, and there, at the medial head of the suspensory ligament, was a small lesion, or tear. There was no calcification on the bone yet, so Rick figured the "injury" was relatively recent – as in weeks or months. However, this type of injury is rarely from a single incident; it is usually a cumulative or fatigue-related strain that gets aggravated and then subsides, over and over, until there is finally enough inflammation to cause lameness. In other words, there was no way to know how and when it happened or started. Lance had 90 days of training last January-March, and then was mostly turned out until September, when he was sent to a different trainer for another 30 days. An injury like this with so little wear and tear; was this a fluke or a sign of inherent weakness? And was I willing to take a risk to find out?

I've already spilled the beans on the answer to that question, but only a few know how much I agonized over my decision. I spent years dealing with similar injuries in Russell, riding the emotional roller coaster of injury/treatment/rehab/returning to work/re-injury, and frankly, Lance's pre-purchase results terrified me. Rick said the decision was up to me; he was willing to treat Lance should I choose to get him (and Rick has the equipment for the 'gold standard' treatment for soft tissue injuries like this), but could give no guarantees.

I tried deciding against; my heart wouldn't let go. I tried deciding for; my head got in the way. I discussed every possible scenario with Rick; I emailed and called a few friends. Then a brief email from dear Wanda brought some clarity. She said, "Just a quick thought. It might come down to this: If you were to pass on Lance, would you regret it forever? (I fear you would.) What do you have to lose?"

What did I have to lose? Time, money . . . another big piece of my heart. BUT. This time my eyes are wide open going in. If Lance isn't physically cut out to "dance," I'll cut my losses in that area. From what I've seen of his temperament, Lance will make a stellar trail mount for someone, whether that be me, Brian, his former owner (she has first right of refusal), or someone else. So I said "Yes" – and felt peace.

Rick administered the first extracorporeal shock wave therapy treatment last Sunday. Lance's treatment and healing time frame dovetails perfectly with Horton's training time frame.

Up next: The Prologue.

Getting to know you....

I went to the trainer's barn to check out my prospective partner three times before the vet check.

Observing him on the ground...

...and being ridden (my saddle, trainer's bridle)...

before trying him out myself.

He has only been ridden Western, so moving out was a new concept for him.

I saw potential, though! 

What a good boy (and slouchy rider)!

He looks so much like my old FEI-level Morgan in this photo, it's spooky!

The third visit was the trail ride. I hauled Brian's pony over to the trainer's, and five of us – the trainer, the horse's owner and her daughter, Brian, and me – went for a lovely little ride a short distance down a paved road, over some farm fields, on a trail through the woods, and into a small river. My young, green mount saw a moving tractor for the first time, went into water for the first time, and was passed by vehicles (three of them!) on the road for the first time – and handled it all with aplomb. Good looks, good gaits, and a good mind; I was convinced that this horse was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow – the rainbow being a wondrous chain of events over the last seven years that led me to this particular horse. With Rick's blessing, we scheduled the pre-purchase exam for last Friday.

To be continued....

Happy hour

Horton has a drink after every single ride

I had an excellent schooling session on Horton yesterday afternoon. He was relaxed and cooperative, more willing to maintain contact, more balanced in the canter.

But I'm a little worried about his habit of drinking after work every day....   ;-)