I knew when this year started that it wasn't going to be normal. I was going to try to make the jump (ha...) to second level with Courage and I knew showing wasn't going to be a big part of that. We were exploring new horizons and instead of creating a show fund, I tapped one of my favorite local photographers and started setting up a really cool photo shoot.
love this
As anyone who's read this blog knows, this year didn't go down the way I expected. Instead of working towards bigger and better things, I dumped money into vets and treatments and ultimately concluded that Courage would be better suited by a different career.
love this
It took what seemed like years at the time, but the little man found his perfect upgrade home and Ms. Zoebird found me.
I wish the next part of this story was like, "and the birds were singing and everything was beautiful", but the truth is that Zoe has been a very bright spot in an otherwise very challenging year.
love this
I've been running myself ragged with no energy left for creativity and adventures.
But the great thing about horses like Zoe and friends like Alyssa is that they're ready when you need them.
love this
And when I said, "let's do this thing", they made it happen.
love this
While things aren't all coming up roses, I think we're finally on the upswing.
love this
Through it all, I've been so lucky to be surrounded by absolutely the best people (and creatures) that anyone could ask for.
super love this
I know I'm going to be a stronger, better version of myself because of that.
love this
I'm not quite sure where everything is going to shake out.
love this
I have no idea what next year will bring me, but I know that with all the challenges of this year, I still came through with a Zoebird.
And sometimes, a Zoebird is exactly what I needed the most.
[All stunning photographs and edits by the inestimable Alyssa. She has limited availability for local photography jobs. Contact her for details.]
A strange phenomenon I've noticed since partnering with Zoebird is people telling me that they want one just like her, but nicer.
mmm but she's so pretty
Like in those words. To my face.
It's actually a super rude thing to say no matter how you stack it up.
A different version of myself would be bugged about it. I'd think up some sassy answers that pointed out the obviously shitty nature of the comment without actually descending to their level and then I'd giggle about it while they figured out exactly what had just happened.
But see.
all smiles!
I just took my first lesson on my baby horse.
so curvy!
And if you're counting, that means aside from her initial training rides getting started, it's been all me for well over a month now.
all me looks like bareback and toodling
And not only has Zoe been a shining ray of positive energy in my life, but she's also such a game lady. Toodling bareback on a cold windy day? She's your gal. Taking a lesson and working harder than she's worked in her life? Sign her up!
lil workhorse!
Plus, I know the subtle implication of "like Zoe, but nicer" is that she just isn't fancy enough to pull down solid dressage scores.
But you know what I see?
mmhmm
I see a little mare with a walk that over-tracks several hoof prints without even trying, a jaw-dropping trot, a supple back, a developing canter, and a can-do attitude.
plus "cute as shit" should go on her CV
I mean. She's not a "10 mover" and we're not going to win for steering around a training level test, but she's going to be a force to be reckoned with in every arena we show in.
gotta try every option
And she's sharp as a tack, with a calm, willing mind.
nose in, nose out
She never says no. She just keeps trying. She puts a smile on my face every single day.
Last Friday, Alyssa came over to play with Zoë and I. She's a super riding badass (who is going to championships at TRAINING LEVEL EVENTING this week omg) and she totally talked me in to riding my baby mare bareback for the first time.
also annual gameday photos
I toodled around like wheeeeeee omg imma die THERE ARE NO WITHERS HALP and ZB was perfectly fabulous.
Then because I'm the best friend ever I was like ALYSSA NEEDS A TURN.
yeah she just gets on my baby bareback in shorts and does this
After said fabulousity, Zoë stopped. And Alyssa was like "she's stuck" and I was like "pssh kick her you tiny penguin".
oh yeah she's four and it's her first time bareback
Instead Alyssa messed around on her and I thought nothing of it and we all went on our merry way.
DUN DUN DUN
Cough.
So the next time I came out to ride, I hopped on and we were marching around at a going walk.
no under saddle pics so admire her Zoë cuteness
And all of a sudden.
She stopped.
Not just lost her balance.
Full-on planted her feet and grew roots like a hundred year old oak tree.
There was no kicking or scooting or breaking her loose or changing her balance to move her.
I finally had a barnmate ride over and loan me her dressage whip.
We repeated that lesson many times that day.
the Zozo Brain
And the next time I rode her, I carried a whip from the get go and she never offered to stall out once.
Babies are magical!
PS also don't assume your friend is just weak and can't kick because clearly that is not the case.
What to say about the little bay horse that walked into my life four years ago and rocked it to it's very foundation?
Absolute Courage, they called him.
And that is what he's been to me. My rock when I lost Cuna. My reason for standing up for myself. My impetus to try and change and grow and learn.
Courage for the big moments, but Courage every day. Courage to see the abuse I was taking and Courage to walk away with my head held high. Courage to find my voice and Courage to see the future.
Most of you are probably familiar with Alyssa--not only is she one of my best friends, she's also eventer and artist extraordinaire. Her amazing mare Bacon went and racked up some vet bills, so Alyssa is offering really cool custom art pieces at a fantastic price.
I have a painting Alyssa did of my old man Cuna and let me tell you, she really captures the essence of her subjects.
Alyssa also does really cool captures of dogs. And she kicks ass at photography, but unless you're local, I'm not loaning her out.
content yourself with this awesome dog pic I learned it's called "mixed media"
It's a really cool way to commemorate a special horse or dog in your life or a friend, it helps out a really great person, and really, what other incentive do you need? ;-)
I mean, no pressure, but if you're interested in an awesome custom portrait, there's no time like the present.
To say that Courage and I have had our ups and downs together would be rather an understatement.
When he came to me, I was broken. I was learning hard life lessons and letting go of the horse that completely changed my life.
October 2013
Courage waited for me. He was quiet and easy and simple.
Then I got stronger, and he let loose.
March 2014
We worked through hard things and focused on Courage-specific issues. Things got better. We had good rides.
October 2014
March 2015
And so it's gone in cycles with him--good times and bad times. I've said before that I thought Courage came to me for a reason, and it's fascinating to look at how we've developed. This spring, Courage was a complete disaster and pushed all my buttons again. At the time, it was maddening. Infuriating. Why couldn't the stupid horse just be easy and let me go win ribbons and look successful? Why was EVERY GODDAMNED DAY harder than the last one? WHY couldn't he just. quit. pushing.
May 2016
But he didn't. And instead of an emphasis on satin and show success this year, life circumstances forced me to grow and push myself as a human being.
The whole experience really refocused me as a horseman. I had to consider the mental/emotional side of training and cement the zen-master-status I've been working on. No matter what, I have to be the still center of the storm. I have to not only accept what he throws at me, but calmly and proactively move towards what I want at whatever speed he can handle on that day.
Sometimes that means walking. Stopping. Getting off. Going backwards in training until we find a point we can agree on and accepting "good enough" for the day instead of pushing for more. It means letting go of what people think of us or what I want for us and just accepting what happens in a day. It means meeting Courage where he's at and rewarding what he can give me, even if it looks little and pathetic to everyone else outside us.
When I walk through the front gate at the barn, I let go of everything that's wrong with life outside it and 100% focus on Courage and what he needs and who he needs me to be.
That's what I got out of this spring.
And now again, the tables have turned. Courage has stabilized, and while other things fall apart, I realized that my little bay horse has given me a mighty gift.
That incredible zen experience--no matter what, I walk through that front gate and all my focus is on Courage. I can't always push the other things down far enough to make riding a good idea, but he meets me where I'm at and accepts who I am each day, even if it looks pathetic to everyone else. He reminds me to focus on him and he gives me his best effort without judgement.
Some days his best effort is making me laugh hysterically at his antics on the lunge, other times it's marveling at how far he's come under saddle as he offers me his new personal best of something hard we're working on.
Courage isn't just the spunky bay horse in the barn. It's a state of mind. A willingness to keep on trying when things are hard and believe against all odds that no matter what, we'll come through on the other side. Maybe not unscathed, but definitely stronger and better for the experience.
In moments like these, I realize just how much I really need Courage.
Once upon a time, I complained that my horse wouldn't turn right. It was maddening and frustrating and no fun at all.
Austen commented that I'd get through it eventually and the sun would shine and the heavens would open and that the next day we wouldn't be able to turn left.
Such a hater, that one.
Courage is a lot more broke and rideable than he was was last year and so I talked Alyssa into coming out and photographing us the other day.
love this shot of him
We walk/trotted around and tried to get the perfect trot picture.
This is a weird post to write. Last week, I talked about how sensitive and complicated Courage is, and that is definitely 100% still true. And y'all probably remember our epic flailing lessons from last year (here's one).
I got on the schedule for a lesson at the end of last week. I picked out the most perfect outfit for pictures, recruited a photog, bathed my horse (hey, it was 43f! #heatwave), and saddled up. My last ride before the lesson was a bit flail-y, but I chalked that up to our first ride outside (dressage in big space NOT THE SAME as dressage in tiny indoor).
Game face on. Mental blank slate. Here. We. Go.
yeah that's what it looks like
We started out walking. It was not great. It was not even very good. Courage has been FANTASTIC at really swinging his back and taking an honest contact with the bit (as long as it's his favorite bit) within the first few minutes of every ride. We did not have that horse. We had a strange, distracted, lurch-y horse that didn't want to move his back AT ALL. Or go in a consistent rhythm. Or anything.
We went through the normal rigmarole of exercises--bend, changing bend, counter bend, moving off the leg, spirals, and nada. He got a little better, but wasn't really "improved" and definitely wasn't "connected". So we tried throwing in some transitions and trotting to see if that would help explain it.
SASS
No.
It would not. Instead, Courage started running sideways. Corkscrewing his tail. NOT TURNING RIGHT. Alyssa (intepid photog) preemptively climbed the fence to avoid getting trampled (it's... happened before).
Our trainer was attempting to talk me through it and make some sense of the situation when I rode up to her, got off, and handed her the reins.
Courage and I have been through A LOT together. That's good and bad. The good part was that I 100% knew he was having a screaming tantrum and throwing all his toys out of his crib and that if I so much as BREATHED in a way that annoyed him, he was leaving the county.
And that's the good news.
The bad news is that he has to learn that even if he doesn't feel 100% and doesn't want to play, he has to express himself in tactful ways, trust we will listen to him, and not bolt into the sunset/fence/photographer.
And that, dear readers, takes an immensely tactful ride that while I may be capable of, I was struggling with emotionally because of all we've been through together. I wasn't upset that he didn't come to play. I understand what he's doing. I just really DO NOT ENJOY the full-on flail that was building and I knew that if I emotionally reacted and pulled on him or kicked at the wrong time, it was game over.
And those moments break down our trust instead of build it.
uninvolved parties
Since nothing makes a very cold day in a slick snow suit more fun than jumping on a squirrely horse, I'm sure I'm not world's best client (hm and now that I think of it, I should probably make her cookies or something).
This is what it looked like AFTER lucky trainer had spent a good long time walking and bending and talking Courage in to going left reasonably. Right is our hot button side. He doesn't do anything dramatic. He's not even being that naughty. He's just saying "CANT CANT WONT HATE STOP EFF YOU ALL".
And she is very tactfully, very patiently, very calmly riding through it. As she describes it, she has to constantly find just the right feel for him--she has to put her left leg on because he wants to blow through it, but she can't push him off the left leg, because then he will blow through it.
Gentle, simple, incremental steps. With the horse in mind.
this is what i want to ride
By the time she handed the reins back to me, Courage was going very well to the left and being reasonable to the right. As she pointed out, he would probably be fine to w/t/c to the left, but if we tried to canter right on that day, he would have peaced out and left. And as she also (kindly) pointed out, what she did wasn't any different than what I was doing--she just rides A LOT more horses than I do and isn't emotionally involved in the situation.
love this shot
And then I had to get back on and ride my own damn horse. Not gonna lie--I was super tentative and definitely rode in a more huntseat/defensive position, but I was VERY CAREFUL to float the reins just a little and not get grabby. This lesson wasn't about the latest/greatest/bestiest dressage. This lesson was about Courage and I learning to trust each other.
Now that he trusted we weren't going to hurt him, I needed to trust that he wasn't going to take advantage of me.
to the right even, omg
And trainer C was just as patient with me as she was in the saddle with C. It wasn't the best dressage work I've ever gotten out of C and it's not the best I've ever ridden, but it was hands down the best resolution of this situation we've ever had.
There was no leaping or flailing or breakdowns or tempers. There was no fear or anger or tears.
I'm so proud of Courage for getting to a place where he's willing to trust us when his first reaction is to be very agitated and defensive.
I'm really happy with myself for being proactive enough to make good choices.
Obviously, we're both thrilled with trainer C for getting us through this.
i'll take it
Courage and I have a long ways to go together, but what we accomplished in this lesson was something we could not have done last year.
