Birthday Post

I will be 60 tomorrow.

A milestone.

Tomorrow is my birthday

I don’t feel 60.

I still feel like that horse crazy girl the other kids made fun of- the girl who galloped through the playground pretending to be a wild horse.

I still feel like the horse crazy girl whose parents wouldn’t, couldn’t understand.

I still feel like the horse crazy girl who cried for weeks because her parents chose a swimming pool over horse camp.

I still feel like the horse crazy girl who fell off the borrowed, nasty pony mare every day, without loosing faith. The mare who taught persistence and how to ride bareback because there was no saddle.

I still feel like the horse crazy girl who loved an appaloosa yearling- love a first sight in the bowels of a horse trader’s barn. The little horse who saved my life.

I still feel like the horse crazy girl who had to accept college over heart’s desire.

I still feel like the horse crazy middle-aged girl who loved Pepperoni. Who bought Pepperoni even though he had uveitis . Pepper who taught me everything- Pepper who taught me that love means letting go.

Pepper

I still feel like the middle-aged grieving girl who walked around a corner that fateful February and found the red pony- the red pony with the “here I am, what took you so long” look.

I still feel like the middle-aged woman who was stunned to win a saddle because her red pony really was the best horse that day- we were just having fun.

I still feel like the middle-aged woman who stresses about how work and family keep her from the red pony.  The woman who dropped 26 pounds for her pony’s sake.

I am the one day from 60-year-old woman whose red pony threw half a flake of hay on her, as if to share his dinner- birthday eve gift.

I will always be that horse crazy girl….

Equine Mind Reader

Something strange freaky happened today while Jigs and I were finishing a 9 mile ride.  We were heading home by way of  a rocky trail and 800 feet of highway.  I walk on the road with Jigs because there is too much traffic. I just don’t bounce like I used to.

I was wishing for a trail to cut through the woods that would avoid the power line and the 800 feet of cars whizzing by.  A few years back we found a footpath to an abandoned archeological dig but it was not passable. We tried bushwhacking a few times to find a shortcut from the site back to the barn, but never found one.

I no sooner let go of the thought when Jigs turned into the woods. Huh? Why not humor him? We had time. Sure enough, he found the old dig site and a TRAIL leading to the train tracks that pass near the pine grove trails and the barn.

I was stunned…..   Is Jigs able to read my mind???  Now wouldn’t that be the ultimate partnership?

We rode beside the tracks and out to the pine grove, avoiding the steep, rocky, power line and the highway.  It was a bit unnerving because freight trains use the tracks. There was enough room to avoid them, but thankfully, there were none.

It’s not a way I would go again because of the trains.  While the horses see and hear them frequently, I’d rather not take any chances.

It was a strange ending to an otherwise great ride….how the heck did that red pony know what I was thinking…….?  If he can read my mind, why can’t we side pass stage left????

Heart Human

We all fall. It’s an inevitable part of riding.

Last night warming up for a versatility run Jigs spooked and I went off.  He spooked at, of all things, a board in a tire rut in the grass.  The rut must have seemed like a canyon to him. The board?  Who knows what he thought.

We were trotting- a medium trot, not fast, not slow. He stopped short and jumped back. It wasn’t even a massive spook, but I tilted sideward and off I went.

I’ve ridden out bigger spooks.  I should have stayed on.

Surprised by the ground, I mentally checked for injuries. Fat does have a purpose.  I got up and walked it off.  Jigs stood there stunned.  He didn’t move or try to run away, despite all the lush green grass.

This has happened before. He stays by me when I fall and seems confused I am not still on him.

The first time I went off we were cantering up the trail and he jumped to to the side. I didn’t go with him.  He stopped and looked down at me. “What you doing down there?”  He was extra careful with me for months.

I got back on last night and did our two runs before going home. I was a bit sore and distracted. We didn’t do well time wise, but he did the obstacles without fuss.

When I fell off Pepper, he didn’t stay by me.  One time he ran back to the barn causing everyone to go out and look for me. They found me walking back, muttering to myself.  When I broke my ankle Pepper ran off to a patch of grass and began eating.  At least he didn’t go back to the barn.

Pepper

On his back or not, Pepper wasn’t interest in humans.

Not Jigs. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing but Jigs genuinely seems upset when I fall off. He is my heart horse. A part of me suspects I’m is heart human.

Versatility – wagon wheel.

Of Horses, Competition, and Deflate-Gate

This year I have made the decision not to “compete” with Jigs and focus on having fun.  I expect if all goes to plan, there will be lots of trails and general fun messing around.

It’s easy to get sucked into competition, even at the backyard level where Jigs and I live.  I woke up this morning thinking about it because, of all things, the New England Patriots.

First, I need to explain that I love football and the Patriots have been my favorite team since I can remember. I didn’t have a choice.  Dad was an avid fan even before they were in the NFL.  He took a great deal of grief from his brother-in-laws for it.  In those days the Patriots were the bottom of pro sports.

Then came 2001.  Dad and I had great fights about Brady versus Bledsoe. I was still innocent enough to be excited about the romance of a young man from nowhere beating out the star veteran for the starting spot. He said Brady was a “one hit wonder.”

I had a few years to rub in how wrong he was.  Then he got sick. In the last few years of his life, Dad wasn’t interest in football, the Patriots or much else.

Mom and I still watch NFL games every Sunday during the season.  For me, it’s a way to stay close to the father I miss so much.  A Patriot flag flies over his grave.

Back in March I was convinced this was the year the Patriots would get to the Super Bowl again.  Brady is getting older and frankly, the game is changing.  His style of play is a bit outdated. Mom and I still feel the sting of two losses to the Giants. This may be our last chance to see the Patriots and Brady win another one.

My belief in them was strong, even when they were beaten badly by Kansas City.  Mom will refute this, but only because I expressed my fears to her and kept my sureness they would figure it out secret so not to jinx them.  Isn’t funny how fans think they can change the outcome?

I went to bed last Sunday night elated my confidence in them was justified.  I was planning a Super Bowl party for my grandsons, two of whom, play football themselves. They were going to see history being made and perhaps the best Quarterback of all time play in his sixth Super Bowl. Then the next morning I heard the report of deflated balls on the local sport station.

It made no sense to me.  The Colts were no threat to them.  Why would they cheat? Yes, there was Spy-gate, but it is common knowledge all the teams do that. One of the teams this year is being investigated for using camera phones on the sidelines.

And there was Brady. He has always projected the clean cut, boy next store aura.  He wouldn’t cheat in football or on Gisele. It felt wrong.

But as the week progressed, my faith waned with every new report.

It still makes no sense.  He played better in the second half when the balls were properly inflated.

Did he do it?

I doubt we’ll ever really know what happened.

I don’t even want to watch the Super Bowl now.

There is cheating in all sports.  Lance Armstrong. Steroids in Major League Baseball. Soring of Tennessee Walkers. Suspended race horse trainers. Hyper flexion and rollkur in Dressage. Even an endurance rider who switched horses in a race.

Everyone tries to find the edge. Some go over it to win at all cost.

There is a line between doing things to be better, like getting a good trainer, better equipment, practicing every day, and crossing the cheat line.  Some don’t care.  The Win is everything.  Ribbons and Millions are at stake. But rules are there to make an even playing field.  And in the horse world, more importantly, to protect the horse, who easily can become victim to the human will to win.

And what does the horse think? Does he enjoy competition?  I think some do, especially those who are bred for it.  Cutters cut cows naturally.  Race horses love to run and will continue even when injured. Remember Charismatic?

But it is up to us humans to protect them- and to listen to what they like too. Not every cutter bred wants to cut.  Not every descendant of Seattle Slew wants to race.

Jigs enjoys versatility.  We may do a few this year but not to compete- just for fun.  And he LOVES trails.  We will do lots of trails this year. The goal is for both of us to have fun.

As to whether or not I will watch the Super Bowl and cheer for the Patriots…. I don’t know. It was a small and petty cheat. Still makes no sense to me.  And I suspect all Quarterbacks try to gain similar advantages.  Aaron Rodgers already stated he tries to get away with over inflation. But it does not make it right.  If they did it; it was wrong.

I still have the secret hope they will find a non-cheat reason for the deflated balls.  And deep down inside, I harbor the hope of one more Super Bowl win.

What would Dad say about deflate gate?  He’d say they did it, watch the game and root for the win.

2015

New Year’s Day. It’s the day I take the ribbons off Jig’s stall door. He had a decent 2014. We managed to get a few first and second places at different small venues. More importantly, we had fun.

For most people this is the time for resolutions and goals for the coming year. While there are some things I will continue to work on (cantering), my real goals are to be kind and have fun. I think if I can manage to these two things, 2015 will be fine.

We can’t control the events that happen to us, nor can we foresee them. What we can control is how we react to the chaos that happens around us and how we treat others. My hope is that I do not forget that in 2015.

Happy New Year!

Regarding Grade Horses

Yesterday Jigs and I took 2nd place at a ACTHA Competitive Trail Ride!  We’ve been doing these rides off and on for a few years.  The first one we did we got 0 points for almost all obstacles.

We’ve  come a long way.  Here are yesterday’s scores:

No, it isn’t first place, but I am so proud of what we have accomplished in the past few years.

Not bad for a grade pony!

I constantly stumble across posts and blogs putting grade horses down.  Facebook posters are especially opinionated about them.  “Grade horses should not be bred…you can’t show them…. buy a registered horse…”  I get it, you need the papers  to show. And there are too many unwanted horses.  But I have been around  “registered” horses with  serious problems that made them “unwanted.”

Of course, there is the issue of genetic defects. My beloved Pepper was  a good example this this.  A percentage of appaloosas go blind like he did, a result of uveitis. Other breeds have other risks.  You need to know the pedigree to avoid passing on unwanted traits.

Still, I wouldn’t trade my grade guy for anything!  He solid and sensible. Am I curious about his background?  Yes.  But in the end, it doesn’t matter.  He is who he is and that is enough.

 

 

Another Vacation Post

It’s that time again- the last day of vacation. There is still the weekend, but that doesn’t count.  It’s back to work on Monday.

Of course I had sensible plans for the week-pressure wash the house, give my room a good scrub, mow the lawn, send hoof boots off to have studs added, sort though my tack at the barn and in the cellar, ride my horse… BUT, not much of it got done.

I did send the hoof boots.

And I rode in my Brand NEW Saddle!   So far we have logged over 20 miles in it!

 

The house will get pressure washed in a few weeks.  The rest will get done too.  But for now, off to ride!

 

Chestnuts

I never liked chestnut horses.  They are too common. Uninteresting.  Was never a fan of Secretariat because he was a chestnut. It didn’t matter that he was a perfect specimen and ran faster than the wind; he was the wrong color.

Like many horse fanatics of my age, I grew up reading The Black Stallion and Misty of Chincoteague series. No chestnuts for me.

When it came time to get my first own horse, I wanted a bay. And then we got to the dealer’s barn and I saw him: a black and white appaloosa.

Freedom – 1977

He was beautiful. The bay barely registered.  Freedom and I spent the next years together exploring and learning. It was perfect until college came along and I had to let him go.

I was hooked on appaloosas, fascinated by their colors and versatility: horses of a different color.

I was in my 40s when I was finally able to afford another horse. I wanted an appaloosa.

Knowing my limitations, I found one on a hack line at a local riding stable.  He rode quiet and had a snowflake pattern like Freedom, only he was a chestnut roan instead of black. Suffice it to say, Pepper was nothing like Freedom.  He rode well, but on the ground, was dangerous.  And I quickly gained firsthand knowledge about the connection between uveitus and appaloosas.

Pepper

Pepper taught me more about horsemanship than any other horse. For that, I am grateful. I still miss him.

When the time came to get another horse I decided in order-

1) no appaloosas

2) no chestnuts

Then I met Jigs.  His personality is bigger than chestnut.  It was the first thing I saw about him as I walked around the barn to meet him. He looked at me with a “here I am” stance.  “Aren’t I handsome?”

Did it!

He was.

“Jigsy” rode okay, but was pushy. “He doesn’t understand that natural horsemanship stuff, you can teach him easy enough,” the horse agent said.  Natural horsemanship, I thought?  He was plain in your face rude.

Nevertheless there was just something about him. I’m not even sure I realized he was chestnut.  Or that he had a split ear. I took him on trial. Both my barn manager and  trainer thought I was nuts.

Over the years Jigs has become my partner, my friend.  We’ve done so much together and we have more to do. I rarely think about his color; it is immaterial. To quote one of my favorite author/trainers, Mark Rashid, “a good horse is never a bad color.”

Last Clinic Day

Yesterday was the last versatility clinic.  We skipped the week before and opted for the makeup session so we could attend a local competition.  The clinic has helped- Jigs and I had 3 clean runs with times good enough for 5^th place.  Angel took 2^nd!

It was a beautiful day yesterday and we trained in the outside ring next to a major highway with lots of motorcycles and trucks rushing by.  Oh, yeah, and behind the farm is a parachuting school.  You could see the jumpers floating down through the trees.  In short, there were a lot of potential distractions that did not seem to bother Jigs. (And  yes, we loped both directions!)

What did freak him out were the horses cantering around the ring with the flag.  Who knew? So we worked it.  He definitely was freaked when Angel’s head disappeared beneath the flag. After a few minutes he was comfortable with the flag hitting him all over.  It’s amazing how the little things can be approached with patience and a calm voice.

Jigs is a steady horse though. Not much fazes him.  We were fooling around with the obstacle that has the wet noodles coming up from the ground.  One of them got caught in the rear cinch and came away with us.  I didn’t notice it because Jigs never complained. The only clue that I had something was off were the folks on the sidelines laughing at us.

But the reason for attending the clinic was to learn to side pass left and do the gate.  We are still weak on the left but have made improvement and we have new tools.  To the right we are stronger. Yesterday we learned a new way- back through the gate.  We did it,  not gracefully, but we did it twice.  Again, we have another tool to apply.

In June the clinician is running a versatility.  Angel was already entered.  She really is a good competitor, but I am not. Yesterday I was talked into entering the novice division. Speed will only be one factor unlike the local competitions we normally attend. In this event correctness is more important.

It’s a tall order for us, but we have a few months to improve!

A Tale of Two Weekends

Versatility back to back weekends were, pardon the cliché, a tale of two cities- one covered with mud; the other with snow.

Last weekend I pulled my trailer with my new car for the first time. Lights worked great. The backup camera made hook up quick and easy. BUT the yard was soggy from hard rain the night before and the trailer’s front break locked.  I literally dragged the empty trailer though the mud and down the street until it released by backing up in a parking lot.

The yard is still scraped and rutted from the fiasco- quite the mess. Both trailer and new car (less than 1300 miles on it) were mud caked.  (Trailer still is.)  When the weather clears I have a lot of work to do….

But I did make it to the barn to get Jigs. The new car pulled like a dream.

There were a lot of excellent riders at last weekend’s event. The course was challenging, but it was possible to get though it quickly. Jigs and I got a descent time, 100% 1:50 seconds, but not good enough against riders and horses that compete regularly at speed events and national level shows. We are just back yard buddies fooling around having fun.

Today Carolyn, Helen, and I traveled to New Hampshire for another Versatility. Rather than rain the day before, this time it was snow.  Carolyn drove. (Thank you, can’t say that enough.) The roads in Massachusetts were clear but once we got to the New Hampshire line, not so much.  And it was lightly snowing.

GPSs are great tools but sometimes they send you to odd places. And there are a lot of odd, almost roads in New Hampshire.  We ended up down the wrong end of the road where the event was but it was not passable due to deep ruts and washout.  I must say Carolyn is the world’s greatest backer upper! Kudos.

We finally reached the barn manager for directions and thought we were all set.  Not quite… There was still an unsanded, unplowed hill between us and the venue.  The barn staff was waiting for us at the bottom of the street. They already had called the sand truck and wanted us to wait until it had passed.

We gladly obliged. Once sanded, the hill was a non-event.

What a nice bunch of folks! The staff and owners were gracious and welcoming. The indoor was small and the course well laid out.  I don’t think it would have been possible to yahoo through it and do well.  Times were slower than last weekend but Carolyn and Angel got 1^st place, Jigs and me 2^nd, and Helen and Violet 6^th!  A big day for the girls at Bearfoot.

I like doing the obstacles, but I’ve come to realize I will never be a competitor in speed events. I am not strong or brave enough to win. I do want to become more confident and a better rider but I have no desire to go  too FAST.

This year I want to participate in more judged rides, the ones that are not races. This means learning to be technically correct.  Speed may break a tie, but if you do the obstacle correctly, your score will reflect it.

Here’s this year’s to do list for me (and yes, Jigs, for you too)

1)      Make sure Jigs has a saddle that fits him correctly (Still a problem I’m afraid, even with saddle #5)

3)      Side pass to the left

4)      Open and close a gate correctly

5)      Improve our lope

6)      Finish teaching Jigs to hand me things that I drop

If we do these things, we will accomplish a lot.

Jan 14 Versatility Mason NH
Angel 1st Place
Jigs 2nd Place