BlindHills,andaHorseShow

When I was a weird little kid growing up, I distinctly remember having a terrible fear of blind hills. As in, if I couldn't see ahead, and knew only that I was going up even a tiny incline, I was petrified. This was in those newfangled things called cars, of course. A strange experience for any creature new to them.

I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4. Nothing my parents said could convince me that the other side of what I couldn't see wasn't threatening. I thought the earth was just a giant hole, on the other side of that hill. Huge fusses were made. Sorry, Mom:(

I also remember having a hearty dislike/distrust for red lights and green lights. I didn't BELIEVE that people going the red way would stop. Of course, driving today, my apprehensions are often justified.

I hate blind hills, and I'm very wary/aware of blind turns, to this day. It just is, and I've learned over many years to compensate for it. I still don't trust people to always stop at a red. I see that a bit, driving in Toronto. Not very beneficial for my heart rate.

In most situations, I am always trying to "see" ahead. It gets annoying for my friends:)
All three of them.
That's the horse part of me, I figure. I want to KnoW what's coming. Horses are always on the look. It's how they live. Look, listen, live.

So, when you put horses into an environment with very little "look" to it, like an arena or a familiarly closed in area, they can and do get bored pretty quickly. This is when the ghosts and goblins start appearing. They start making up ideas of what "could" be happening:)

Did you SEE that cougar? EEEEEEEEK. Total phobias and terrible disobediences can ensue, without gentle, patient, firm handling. I tire of hearing how the horse is....

Yeah, yeah, ride the darn thing. Show him a blind hill or two. He'll wake up.
They want to go forward, looking. Let them!

Mild rant completed. Scanning for more interesting blather..

OH, I did this, for fun..
My Show with GoLightly.
I told you I'd found my old journals, detailing the life and rather monotonous tribulations of one GoLightly rider/school barn teacher/resident nutbar. These are scans from those journal entries, about the one and only show I took my master horse to. What a marvelous day it was!

My nerves the (day and) night before the show, were mostly assuaged by my father's idea of going to bed late, so I'd sleep deeply, if briefly. Then, I'd be tired enough the next day to HavE to relax. It worked perfectly, for the first class. Here's the excerpt..

"My nerves clutched just a little, as we were driving to the show, and then a calm feeling just settled over me. I warmed GoLightly up before my first round, rubbing shoulders with the big guys, and felt as if I belonged. I whistled away quietly, humming occasionally, enjoying myself thoroughly. GoLightly was alert and super-responsive, faster on his feet, as his adrenaline was up. He felt super-charged! One fairly insane looking horse kept spooking and leaping, and at one point would have landed on us, if GoLightly hadn't listened & responded and figured it out so well.

I borrowed C's new paddock boots, but they were not comfortable like my old ratty ones. My left foot kept slipping out of my stirrup, which was a reflection of the fact that I rode a hole too long. I should have shortened them, but I wanted to be comfortable.

The first class was huge, 106 entries, and I didn't show until around 10:30am. We walked the course, Peter, another student and I. It looked low and easy. My warm-up was very relaxed (except for the annoying stirrup).

I had a long wait in the chute after our warm-up, which I spent reviewing the course and relaxing. Horses ahead of us were having problems. Peter was mildly surprised by my lack of nerves, and snapped a few questions at me, which I answered quickly and correctly.

(Fence #6 is at the top end of the ring, #3 is to the right of the 7th jump, sorry for the scribbling!)

Peter had cautioned against riding too passively to the first fence, and GoLightly agreed, 'cause he didn't see the quieter spot, and left a little earlier than I'd planned. Clever boy. Throughout the whole course, we felt.. beautiful, perfect, in tune, in-sync and we finished clean. GoLightly was supreme. As we started the Immediate jump-off round followed with these types of classes, I almost forgot to go through the finish line!

(continued on the second picture, sorry for the confusion. The second picture is of the second class's course.)

I had four faults in the jump-off, rode too easy to the number 8, a narrow vertical wall. I saw an easy distance, and GoLightly happily knocked it down, as I'd assumed he'd see it as easy, too.

(I should have held him together more. I often softened too much, when I saw a good distance coming. I'd "throw the horse away", instead of staying with him/supporting him.)



"The second course was a little different! The wait between the two classes was about 3 hours, and I was starting to get tired by the time it was my turn to warm-up again. I was STILL losing the one stirrup in the second warm-up, but even more often than in the first. This worried me a little. We jumped well in the warm-up though, and Peter tried to get GoLightly to catch a rub, but he was just too sharp.

Unfortunately, I wasn't. I expected a chance to relax in the chute again, but the class was moving more quickly, and there was no-one on deck, so I had to go straight in, without even a parting question to Peter. I felt a little unprepared. We picked up a canter, did half a flying change, and generally looked dumb while I tried to get organized. Poor GoLightly was a little confused, too.

I finally got my shite together, and found the exact same "easy" spot to the narrow wall #8 fence from the first jump-off. It was now fence number one. GoLightly happily knocked it down again, 'cause I let him get loose and lazy. We jumped the second fence, a big oxer, perfectly, then I lost my left stirrup again, and didn't regain it until I pulled up in the corner, before fence 6.

(It's the * mark, in the second picture.) (* mark in the first picture is where I had the four faults in the jump-off.)
Confused? Sorry. I was there, y'see, and I still remember that course. One of those unforgettable, great days in my life, to that point.

The rest of the course rode like a dream. Needless to say, I wasn't very happy with the second round, and Peter gave me a mercifully brief scolding for being so stupid in the opening circle.

GoLightly has been cranky the week following the show. The usual "let-down", or anti-climax, after a show. I have had a really hard time staying awake this week."

Cool, huh? 1984, and the learning experiences are still the same.
Wear clothes you are comfy with, stay focused, ride the horse over every fence.

Have fun, and look/think ahead!

Everyone Who Owns/Breeds Horses should have to Watch This, oh, and get what they're saying. Great points are made, education being the key.

LindaTellington-JonesPart OneDONE

Well, I said I would. Equus really needs to get out more. I can't believe that in the heart of fancy-schmancy horse country, where I frickin' live, they do not sell Equus at the pharmacy anymore. WTH. Practical Horseman is still there, but no Equus. Western Horseman, other Canadian rags, oh, the Corinthian, known to the rest of the Canadian horse planet as Horse Sport. It UseD to be the Corinthian. Lah, dee dah!

Equus had/has great horse care articles. Cutting edge, latest research type stuff. My favourite stuff!
Anyway, here's some more LTJ, for your teaching/touching/massaging/relaxing/understanding your horse pleasure. The TellingtonTouch has been around a long time. Almost as long as me;) KIDDING. We've been working with horses, for a very, very long time. Humans, as in. Not ME.









Part Two of LTJ will follow. Whether you like it or not;)
Hope your horse is blissing:)

Happy Thanksgiving, United Mostly States of America! Must be nice to have such a late harvest:)

OH, and do not, repeat, NOT go to Union Square's blog! I badgered/bludgeoned/picketed her to post another story, and, well, I feel terrible. I'm feeling tooo guilty to even READ it.

TERRIBLE. Guilt. Oh, the humanity!!

Breaking News!!
Speaking of which again, the OSPCA has now filed cruelty charges against good old Tim Trow, President of the Toronto Humane Society. His GM, and vets, too.

It's sad, and pathetic. I need to apply for his job. I know I could have done better. Oh, the argument I had with him. Not screaming, shouting. But, wow, arrogant and haughty, I think is the best way to describe him.

Anybody remember why I argued with him? I do. About a dog named Bandit. Lab/pit-mix, was still being rehabbed, two years after putting 200 stitches into a child's face. My darlin' red girl gave my nephew a warning nip, once, to the face. Bandit obviously didn't have much inhibition. Sorry, 200 stitches? The dog liked it. And would like it again. That he still wasn't ready to be adopted spoke volumes. I saw one picture of him, his eyes chilled me. I'd love to know what really happened to him. I'd be happy to be proven wrong in my suspicions. I just don't think it's wise use of time and resources.

That Animal Planet TV show, Dogtown, is a case in point. They have the time and the resources. Good trainers, good layout, good climate. And the space. And the TV show:(

But to me, that's excessive waste of funds that could help find homes for city dogs like my old red foxy-girl. Worth that extra effort. There are bad dogs. Rare, but they are there. I, to this day, believe Bandit was one of the rarities, a blood-lust dog. I'm still awaiting truths about him.

And I stopped supporting the THS, after 12 years of giving them money, after that argument.
So, there.

Frustrations and Foibles

Found in a Montana History book, from 1919. Just HAD to share:) Thanks to NCC for the pic!


Me at my very first show, Uxbridge Fair, 1966. Not ONE lousy ribbon. Boy, was I frustrated.

Try to stay with me, it's a multitude of sins I'm trying to cover here. But mostly, I think we women need to recognize the nasty emotion we feel, whenever we do not get whatever it is that we want/politely ask for/desire.

I'd like to quote from a trainer's site, without her permission, for edumacational purposes only.

"Functional equitation should not be confused with show ring equitation; what wins in Equitation classes in the show ring is based on fashion and what looks nice to the judge, which may not be the most effective position for all horses and riders."
Um, what??

and this..
"I was definitely not a Natural Rider and it frustrated me when learning…I had the desire and the commitment yet I just was not able to ride the way I wanted to! It was very frustrating, but as my trainer WAS a natural rider she was unable to understand or help with this problem. Most coaches are natural riders which is why it can be difficult to find help correcting this type of issue."

I give this rider an "A" for due diligence, but a "D" for attitude. Blaming your coach isn't an attitude to take to a lesson. Dismissing basic equitation principles, because they frustrate you, isn't the answer.

Why? Letting frustration colour any/every facet of your life is recipe for disaster, especially if you work with/own/love animals. Equitation ideals are based on solid principles. That's been true longer than I've been around, anyway. But I guess the questionably fashionable "pickle-up-yer-butt" equitation style of the 90's does put a wee crimp in my argument.

I'd like to make a hugely annoying generalization again, because they are my forte. I think men deal with frustration far more easily than women. (smiles innocently.) They can release frustrations much more easily than we can, and they don't seem to dwell on them, as I do, anyway. Men seem to explode (in a variety of ways), and move on, with no side/ill effects.

Even a whiff of our frustration emotion can send animals scattering. Frustration can happen in any situation, with any type of outcome. Obviously the (ahem) more obvious frustrations will not be dealt with here. That's your problem;)

Frustrations in training happen all the time, at any time. Just the ThoughT of being frustrated can frustrate you. My dogs can hear even a molecule of impatience/frustration/hurry-the-hell-up in my body language, scent and voice. It hampers how you deal, with anything. Everybody. Obviously.

Or not, of course. It's so EASY to feel it, very hard to tamp it down, depending on various factors, often beyond your control. Which is kind of the definition of frustration. Loss of control.

Animals show frustration quickly, and do their best to release it. If they can't, one gets the repetitive behaviours, the bane of any animal keeper/trainer.
Weaving. Cribbing. Aggression. Stall-walking. You name it, the animal does try to express it.
Again, they don't try to hide it. Women are expected to be patient, and full of the anti-frustration. Fulfillment.

But when we get on the horse, or snap on that dog's leash, or ask husband for some help, that cacophony of "make sure/relax this/thrust this/force this" stiffens every part of our body, IF we let that cacophony start.

Shhhhhhh. Get on, relax. Let all the voices telling you to ride the way you USED to, stfu. Let your body turn into a wiggling bowl of jello. Jello is a natural rider:)

Our own "want to RIDE like Beezie" (or insert your own hero here) frustration overwhelms our bodies, if we LET it. It shows in our shoulders/arms and hands, usually, first. Usually. It shows in our seat. Instead of going with the motion, we ride against it, stiffening against the flow. Women try so darn HARD. Men just go with whatever is happening. Their frustrations don't even measure on the Richter scale of emotion. When they do become frustrated, they deal with it, let it go. Women throw kindling on it.

A woman's frustration with herself is a volatile, powerful thing. It can hurt you.
Don't let it. If you feel that little flame starting to flicker, blow it out, tamp it down. How? Breathe. Pretend you're a stripper, or something. Make yourself laugh with yourself. Hum a stripper tune. Not that I know any, except for Joe Cocker's "You Can Leave Your Hat On".
Hey, the old bump and grind is good for flexibility in your hips.

That is not something your mother will teach you.

OH, in lieu of the fact that Dena hasn't e-mailed me her new coordinates yet, and because of the fact that FernValley is arguably the best breeder of Appaloosa Horses in Canada Land, I have awarded her an incredibly weird prize.
Sorry, Dena. I did ask, ya know. The remote toilet flusher prize was amazing. Oh, WELL. Humpfh..

Also, just because Fern's an amazing person. Check out her babies. Check out Classy's Video. What a mover. In my horse time, Appys didn't move like that. I'm so glad there are breeders out there like Fern, actually improving the breed!

Fern won't believe what she's getting, assuming Canada Post does their job. Martin will try to share. Only if he hasn't frustrated you recently, Fern:)

To The End of all Frustrations.
yeah, as IF;)

JumpCrazy

Jump Crazy Kid, 1967.
It's taken me a long time, but I've evolved, from the jump crazy kid I was, pictured above, 1966 or so, into this weird semi-pro anti-pseudo-pro horseless horse person. I think.

Jump Crazies

It's a common disease amongst most riders interested in English disciplines. They get hooked on the thrill, and the power, and the flight they can achieve with each jump. It's an adrenaline high. Addictive in young women, if left to their own devices. Trouble is, the horse only has so many good jumps in him. No matter what type of horse he is! I wish I'd known that in my youth. I thought they were bullet-proof, horses' legs. They ain't.

Jumping any horse, dayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterdayafterday, just shouldn't happen. Period. Variety is the spice of life. Variety is their life. Stumbling around the same ring, or the same pen, or the same arena, is a set-up for failure. They need varied footing. They need varied settings. They need variety! It's better for their movement, and their brains. And their HOOVES. Sorry, didn't really mean to shout. But good grief...

In my horse time (IMHT), hunter/jumpers were sound horses. There were unethical trainers, of course, but I'd learned to avoid them by then. One of the reasons these horses stayed sound? They were only jumped once or twice a week. They were not longed to death. They had turn-out.

I wonder, has that changed? Are lessons and schooling at the Schooling/Showing barns really all about the over fences portion of the program? That isn't right. It wasn't right when I was teaching, and it isn't right now. There isn't a horse alive that ShoulD be jumping every day.

I lost students to the big lessons barns, when I would refuse to let them jump at every lesson. But the students that stayed with me, became true horsemen. They wanted to learn horsemanship. It's the most important part of riding.
You know, the Horse.

At least, to Me. I get the feeling I'm a vocal minority, more and more. Oh, well.
I know my schoolies appreciated me. I had advanced students on set days through the week and on weekends. They didn't always jump. Really. Not a peep would you have heard, from any of them, with a complaint. Not because I was nasty, either. They were LEARNING about HORSES. That's what a SCHOOL is all about.


Spartacus, my Sparky.

He had most every kind of ringbone there was, and he'd proudly stand while we dissected his front legs, conformationally speaking. Not literally. Ew. High ringbone, Low, sidebone, too, all the way around.

My students bought their own Pony Club Manuals. They could not take a lesson until they'd proven they'd bought one. As they progressed, they were given written quizzes and tests, based on the old pcmanual, and on my own diabolical mind.

sigh. They were such fun to grade, and the comments I gave them kept them coming back for more. Always positive comments. Always helpful. Humourous. Okay, how DO you spell humerous? Nope. CRAP. Humorous. That's the American spelling, Blogger! Never mind. Frickin' gently funny.

You know, things like "What is ringbone?" Bonus Points if you knew "Do any of the our horses have it?" I worked out four "levels" of Horsemanship, which students could work towards. Their reward? They knew a lot more, after they started. The ones lucky enough to go on to horse-ownership do me so proud.

The really advanced, "poor" students, you know, pretty darn good for once a week riding, were able to show a few times during the summer, and my old boys (almost) always walked away with something satin. Colour didn't matter.

The really, really REALLY good kids, broke my heart. You know, the ones without enough capital or enough capital, but their purchase inevitably foundered, or colicked, or ate a strange blade of grass. One shot is all most of these people had.

See, I knew how they felt.

Brain is stuck on ringbone, for some odd reason. Old Spartacus, he had it. Sound as a dollar, once he got moving. Isn't that the POINT with horses? At least attempt to keep them moving. Or move them a LOT, so they want to stand and doze in their stalls for a few hours.
Uh, oh, I feel the rant petering out. Lucky for YoU!

Oh, WAIT! that's my bleedin' point, anyway. Spartacus wasn't "sound". Neither am I, for that matter. Very, very very few "perfectly" sound horses out there. Okay, Milton. Okay, there are many. LOOK at their danged conformation, what else would you expect? Be ready, be ready, PLEASE, before you attempt to salvage that "gasp" rescue, or that lovely, lovely coloured horsie. If you know what's wrong, you'll be ready. Always nice to be prepared, I always say. Learn all you can.

Drat, pinged right past my point again. Dang tangents...

Don't jump your dang horses too much! Manage them well, be prepared with knowledge of their faults, and they can and will stay serviceably sound, for many, many years.
(I looked up serviceably, blogger. Screw you, buy a dictionary).

Lets see, what can I end with that's guaranteed to get roars of outrage?
Rollkur is for professionals. Not pseudos. Pseudos have no idea what they're talkin' about.

TAHHHH, Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Grumbling, and out.
OH, I forgot, we do need at least ONE more picture...
hmmmmm.

Three of "my" kids, 1981.

They weren't allowed to be jump crazy, either.

OH, this is apropos of absolutely nothing. For anybody that has hated ABBA, the Swedish group, for YearS, as I have, watch the movie "Mamma Mia". I LOVE musicals. This was hilariously funny, and the first real obvious use for ABBA music...

Mamma Mia, here I go again. Still, it's much less creepy than humming Sweeney Todd. Odd. I'm horseless, and I'm humming ABBA. Hell really Has frozen over..

GreatestGray

This horse was the crowning achievement of British Show-Jumping breeding practices. He was BRED in Great Britain. I've never seen a horse, before, or since, with that same exquisite motion.
His sire, Marius, was imported from (where else) Holland. His 3 year old dam, Aston Answer, was a good, honest mare, unremarkable, but lovely. Notice the word "Shagya" way back in her pedigree. He got his ears from his dam. The late, great starter of young horses, Caroline Bradley, knew what she wanted, and got it. Caroline paid 1,000 pounds for him, a gigantic price for a weanling, in those days. She knew.

Caroline had ridden his sire Marius to the win at the Queen Elizabeth II Cup, Royal International Horse Show, in 1978.

Perfect, 1977

Yes, they do show their stuff from a young age. His dam is only four years old in this picture. Aston Answer was broken the following year, and show-jumped with some modest success. I love his spectacles. I had to re-check the picture, they are there. He's wearing glasses;)
All the balance, all the power, all the symmetry, it's there. Feast your eyes please. This is what I look for.


1982, Novice Jumping Class, Caroline Bradley up.

So tragically, Caroline Bradley died the year after this picture was taken, only 37 years old, of a heart attack. The horse world truly lost a gem. The other jumping pictures I have of him don't do the horse enough justice. Once you have watched him move... My fictional GoLightly had his movement, and my real-life GoLightly had those same long ears, and that same huge stride.

Just not the same "loft". Real GoLightly moved silently. You didn't hear much. This horse was silence. The ground didn't feel him. He landed as a cloud could land. His jumping mechanic was so extravagant and effortless. His rider finally shortened his stirrups, riding this horse. The rider realized (and this is a genius, natural rider) the horse needed all his freedom. The rider has to be entirely weightless.


His owners would never risk him jumping the famous Hickstead Bank. Here, he's galloping in front of it. They also refused to let him compete in the Olympics. Too special to risk such a venue, for such a paltry prize.

To Milton.
The Greatest Jumper, ever


Photo credits.
Top - Kit Houghton, Middle - J. Mudd, Bottom - Elizabeth Furth
From the Book "Milton", by Gillian Newsum, foreword by his rider, John Whitaker. Worth every bleedin' penny. Get it. His story is amazing.

I do have more to say, just no blasted time to say it.
But I think y'all can catch my drift. The Brits know a thing or two.

GreatGrays

To Our Veterans and Soldiers, today is your day. Every day should be your day.
Peace, thanks to you.


The Three-Day Scopey Gray.

Just a smitchen coarser than Royal Minstrel, yes? (Thanks, US, still drooling all over them.)

JustaTad. What I find interesting is this horse looks a bit back at the knee, or calf-kneed. I think the picture shows his off fore distorting his near-fore, though. This horse did experience some front end soundness issues. Considering his vocation, this makes his longevity incredible. I think the picture also shows his conformation genius, as well.

His movement was stupendous.

He HATED dressahhhge. Dressage judges disliked him. He was so LONG. It was hard for judges to believe that the front end truly connected to the back-end.

Back like a arm-chair, rear-end like a battle ship. (Thank you "Champions", the OLD movie about Aldaniti and Bob Champion, for that line.) The scope and power of this horse was breathtaking. Literally.

Watching this horse gallop and jump was like watching a dam breaking, pure energy coiling and roiling and spoiling for the next solid structure, to be made nothing of. A cross-rail, for this horse, was a four-foot tall, 6 foot wide solid oxer. Child's play, he'd flick his hooves, and pin his ears with disdain.

Oh, this horse..

Easy-peasy.

I will NEVER forget (watched of course, on video, ya think I can afford to travel there??) this horse "bounce", as in jump/land/no-stride/jump, a super long one-stride in and out, tall vertical solid rails, on a downhill slope, his rider holding on for dear screaming life.

When I think of "scope", I think of old Murphy.

To Murphy Himself.
From one of his most ardent groupies.
What a horse.

Postscripted, for inspirations..
Hey, if you're waiting to go to your next lesson, still a wee bit sore from the last lesson, remember what I told ya a while ago?
Keep making those sorest muscles "sing" a bit. Not scream, sing. Make sure you do all of your chores symmetrically. Invent ways that make you work your weaker side harder. I was smiling at myself, raking leaves the other day. Raking is like rowing is like riding. I always work hardest, those muscles that I know are the riding singers. I work both sides of my body, equally, obsessively.
Too.

Photo credits:
Top - Elaine Pickworth, Middle - Hugo Czerny, Bottom - Trevor Meeks/Horse and Hound.
From the Book "Murphy Himself and Glenburnie" by Gillian Newsum, with Ian & Jenny Stark.

RumblingsRanklings&Rowings

CRAP, I looked everywhere for this picture. Now i find it, one post later.
I present, Up and Rising, StinkinSlinkin Flip!

Mick Jagger said it best, didn't he?
Great song, that, "Emotional Rescue". I've grown up fairly cynical, and acquired a pretty healthy distrust of the horse business in general, horse people in particular. Present company not included:)
It's just how my brain learned to generalize.

Generally Speaking...
The horse business is not generally kind to the less wealthy. The resentment fomented by watching the wealthies own horses/show horses/win ribbons, with little talent, and less empathy, still can bubble up inside me, reading some of the ridiculous complaints spoiled brat owners have with their horses.. I'm not even talking about the WAY-less talented, here. And it's been years, people. YearS.

Many talented horse people were just never born to big bucks. I'll bet it just drives some of them pretty batty. Happened with me, anyway. It's hard for the horse crazy person to realize how little they can actually afford it. Properly, that is.
If only, if only, if only.

Money will never buy talent for the rider. But there's lots of money to buy a generous horse, which will mask the rider's flaws, and make it seem like the rider is a hero. Only the horse and I know the truth. The general public will still gasp with admiration. And in this world, it seems to be all about the gasp.
The general public far outweighs the horse-owning public.

Higher levels of understanding horse-flesh are not available at the beginner levels. At least, not Enough. Seems to mE, anyway.
Whoah, where did that come from?? Never mind. Have an egg!

OH, and a totally embarrassing story must be told, so you all can understand my pomposity is never without considerable air. And for Padraigin, because she'll know why I type it.
For Horses. Let's be ready. Aye, ready.

(Correct me too, but I don't remember learning the "Door" rule from the Pony Club Manual.)

Embarrassed;)
I was 14-15 or so, at a nice barn visiting with some older friends and their horse. An OTTB, big bay gelding was this wonderfully kind woman's pride and joy. She and her sisters had been very kind with me, and had helped me through some tough times. That's the family of sisters who did the faded "pointillist" piece for me, long ago.
This one:


ANyway, big OTTB is standing gleaming in the cross-ties. Proudly bedecked in a new leather halter, with newest glistening white sheep-skin padding on the poll and cheeks and nose-band, for shipping his precious self.
I threw my arms around his long, braided/polished neck, squealing how beautiful he looked. OTTB promptly, prudently broke his cross-ties and his new lovely leather halter. I type this memory to take the sting out of it. It STILL stings. Ouch.

At that age... Nice lady was very sweet about it, but gah. Dumb kid. Doesn't matter where/what/how you learn though.
It's what sticks that counts.

Horses are not large dogs or cats. Prey animals have a totally different outlook on life. It's hard to imagine being a prey animal, seeing's how we are at the top of the food chain. Horses know this better than we do:)
It's when we try to BE a prey animal along with them, that they really have to call bullshite. Stop trying to act like a horse, around your horse. Be the human, always aware of how the two of you interact. Never let down your guard. Be the predator you are. Your horse expects, and respects this from you.
It's a respect thing.

SmoooothMovers.. here's one.

Good grief, this mare had an ugly head. Gah. TB/Jughead/STB, who knows. I had fun riding her. She was so comfy to ride. Very little action, very little oooomph behind. Next to no scope. Odd mare. She'd clamp her tail and spook when she shat. Mostly on the longe, never under tack. Her confo clearly shows her limitations.
Why on earth do people "rescue" animals so completely malconformed, and then express surprise at the poor beast's unsuitability for his task??

I'd have had a tough time doing anything but pleasure riding and jumping, with this mare. If I'd tried to make her a Grand Prix jumper, I would have been in for a disappointment.

This would be like buying a school horse with no neck, no top-line & no hind-end connection, and then asking it to work in lessons, jump etc.. I wonder why the horse is sore?? Why do people believe that form isn't important??
I guess I was just lucky. The school barns I worked at had basically sound horses. Basically. How on earth can people learn on horses that aren't even BUILT like horses???

Sorry, part of the gasping I've been doing. Unreal, what passes for professional, these days.

Lack thereof..
I must confess my lack of relevance lately has to do with business related concerns and family related concerns, and all that sorta kinda thing.

I'm still trying to put something back in my life, that's been lacking. Y'all know what ThaT is. This direction I'm taking might help.

To Trial and Error. You gotta learn it somewhere. Don't keep worrying about the error. It's the trial that counts;)

p.s. If you're wondering about the Rankling/Rowing reference, be patient.
It's a reminder for my next blather.