Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the farm,
Only one horse was stirring, the brown one in the barn,
The only one to hang a stocking from his feed dish that night,
Hoping that Santa would come, and fill it just right.
The other horses were settled quietly in their stalls,
While their dreams were of horse treats, candy canes and riding halls,
And the cat in the hay barn and the dog on his mat,
Had just snuggled in for a long winter's nap.
When out in the dressage ring there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the arena I flew like a flash,
Pulling on my boots and jacket in my mad dash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to the dressage letters below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But eight little elves riding eight tiny reindeer.
A small round man, dressed in red and white, looked just like Santa,
And called out to the reindeer, as an instructor might.
His shiny black boots reached up to his knees,
His pants looked like breeches and even had a full leather seat!
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen, come Comet and Cupid,
more forward Donner and Blitzen,
Keep the voltes round, elves ride those reindeer through,"
It was Christmas Eve reindeer dressage,
Under the moonlight in the snow so blue.
by Mary L. Brennan, DVM
To ride dressage is to dance with your horse, equal partners in the delicate and sometimes difficult work of creating harmony and beauty.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
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