Seasonal adaptations

It has been a grey, wet week since Monday's unexpected break. There have been some short dry spells here and there, but never when I could sprint to the barn and get Horton out for some exercise.

Since I don't like to let a horse sit for more than two days at a time unless I'm out of town, yesterday was a "must exercise" day. The dry spells came and went while I worked hard at other obligations until I got down to the wire on time (I had an evening meeting) and daylight. So I put on a waterproof jacket, fitted Horton with lunging surcingle and side reins, and worked him in the drizzle at the far end of the arena. Rick had cleared it of leaves earlier in the day so I had at least a 20m circle in which to work. It got quite windy Wednesday night and a lot of leaves came down, but there are many more to fall before we can do our annual arena "deleafing." Keeping the organic matter to a minimum keeps drainage at a maximum – a necessity for our long, wet winters.

This morning was forecast to be dry, so "riding Horton" was right after "chores" on today's to-do list. But chores took a bit more time than usual. When I opened the barn door, the aisleway was a MESS. My husband apparently neglected to latch Horton's stall door when he did chores last night, and Horton had helped himself to the hay. (By design, that is ALL that is accessible; our grain is kept in barrels on an upper level.) Horton must have eaten his fill, because even though his stall door was wide open, he was standing in his paddock. Oh well, at least he had a nice, full tummy! He was a very good boy during our ride (just like he was yesterday on the lunge line), maintaining consistent contact and taking his canter departs quite nicely from aids alone, no vocal cues.

Horton hears a WOOhoo!

Horton handled his first show superbly. He took in the new surroundings with calm interest, and warmed up politely and obediently. The highly decorated judge's stand (including a headless horseman/scarecrow; oy!) gave him pause in our first test, but after a little more exposure to it he was much braver in the second test.

Our scores surprised both Horton's owner and me. I have never before, in 20 years of showing dressage, scored above 70%, and today, with a green horse at his first show, we got two scores above 70%! (The one on the left would have been 72.8% if Horton's rider hadn't made an error.) I saw a Training Level Test 1 with a score of 41.5% in the show office when I picked up our tests, so I don't think it was because of an overly generous judge, either.

I haven't watched the rides yet (Sylvia had them recorded) and I'm sure I'll see plenty to critique when I do, but still . . . WOOHOO!

Here's Horton with his proud owner just before we loaded him into my trailer to come home:

As the sunlight started to break over the cloudbank to our east this morning, the fog mushroomed up from the valley and enveloped us. Horton was a little jumpy during chores, so I decided to turn him loose in the arena to work out the kinks before riding him.

That was a non-event. This was as much action as I got when I shooed him away. He didn't want to run, or buck, or do anything but be with me. (To be completely honest, I doubt it had as much to do with me as it did that fragrant apple in my pocket!) So I let him "join up," gave him a bite of apple, and took him back to the barn to tack him up.

We had a fine ride; some lovely moments and no nasty ones. The saturated air that is fog left us damp, soaked Horton's little forelock, and decorated his eyelashes with tiny beads of moisture (which I couldn't capture).

After untacking and grooming him, I decided to trim Horton's bridle path and ears, just in case we get into that show on Sunday. He stood like a gentleman, and was rewarded with the other half of his apple.

And whadduya know. Within an hour or so of returning to the house, I got a call from the show secretary saying someone had scratched two Intro rides! I'll have to leave before dawn, but . . . "A'showing we will go; a'showing we will go. Hi-ho, the Hortie-O, a'showing we will go."

FULL of "potential"

We drove to Lincoln City to administer Lance's third and final shockwave treatment today. As soon as I walked up to his stall, I could sense attitude – not surprising in a four-year-old after four weeks of stall rest with only a few short walks. I thought I'd take him out to walk around while Rick set up his equipment, but he minced along on tip-toe or jigged. Hmm, that stud chain hanging on the outside of his stall was probably there for good reason. It was starting to rain anyway, so I lead him back inside, threaded the stud chain through his halter, and took him into the arena to continue our . . . walk. Well, I walked – and kept my eyes open for exploding horseflesh. After some warm-up hops and pops, Lance performed a capriole that would have made a Lipizzaner proud!

To his credit, Lance never once aimed a foot my way, keeping his energetic expressions well away from my person but within the range of his lead rope. We finished his walk while his "sleepy shot" was wearing off after treatment....

Late this afternoon I got Horton out for some exercise. I figured he might be a bit full of it as well, what with colder weather and being cooped up since Sunday, so I lunged him in side reins first. While he was obedient at walk and trot, his clamped tail indicated tension. When I asked for canter, that tension exploded into bucking worthy of the National Finals Rodeo!

I just sent him on and insisted he get back to work which he eventually did, and we finished up with some work under saddle at the walk.

I finally got an answer on this weekend's show; it was under-subscribed so they cancelled it. So nice of them to make me track down that information less than a week before I expected to ride down centerline! Anyway, there is another show being held this weekend; it is full and has no cancellations on Sunday so far, but I told the show's secretary that I am willing to ride Intro tests HC in any time slot. Guess I'll just keep preparing and waiting, like I have been!

How they break our hearts

A dear, distant friend lost a horse suddenly (likely an aneurysm) last week, and a dear, local friend is putting her horse down as soon as arrangements can be made this week. These four-legged friends of ours, they claim our hearts and souls, and then run away with them.