Answering the Nagging Questions

I've gotten a lot of questions about our latest round of show-fail, so here's my stab at addressing them in a more or less coherent way. I'm doing this in the most dickish way possible by interviewing myself. Questions are compiled from various sources and not exact questions from any one person.

Q) How do you feel about Courage now?
A) About the same. I've put a lot into him. I believe in him. I was disappointed and sad for a day, but failures are going to happen and I still have to move on. He's still cute, I'm still here, and we're going to figure this out.

Q) Does he have X vet problem?
A) Last I checked, vets had to actually physically check horses for problems (vs think about them on the internet) and to be a vet, they had to attend some sort of "schooling". I dunno. Never wanted to be a vet, so never looked into it. Regardless, I think medical advice needs to come from medical professionals. Either you assume that I am a good horse owner and deal with my horse responsibly or you assume that I am a shitty horse owner and don't. Either way, I generally don't take medical advice from strangers on the internet. I'd say you shouldn't either, but then I'd just be making a funny meta joke.

TRUST DR CHIWEENIE HE IS SO QUALIFIED

Q) How is this any different than the Hellmare?
A) If you've been around here long enough (YEARS), you might remember the Hellmare. She was actually remarkably physically similar to Courage if you disregard their plumbing. Well, that and the fact that she was pure evil. Courage has OPINIONZ. Izzy would actively try to kill me. I realize that might look the same to an outsider (or if I'm not writing well), but it works out to the difference between Courage letting me slide back in the tack after an incident and Izzy jamming me face-first into a rocky field because I was SLIGHTLY off balance. Intent is how they're different. Intent matters.

Q) Are you going to sell him?
A) No.  Even if I wanted to, which I don't, it would look something like this: for sale: older busted-up ex-racehorse with no professional training and no useful skills. Prone to bolting, leaping, and expressing himself. Not talented enough for pro, way too much for most ammies, doesn't take kindly to kids, not a jumper, hates trails. NO ONE BUYS THAT.

Q) Aren't you a terrible person because your training philosophy is slightly different then mine?
A) Of all the reasons I might be a terrible person, I wouldn't put this one that high on the list. YMMV.

I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and say that it's all butterflies and roses. It's not. I was really upset. Because I have a long, LONG junior career of being really terrible at shows, I can't say it's an unfamiliar feeling, which probably helped me rebound faster.

junior me would be so jealous

she couldn't even

I'll also admit that I was pretty damn jealous of the kid bopping around on the haffie pony while Courage flipped his shit, but then that ended right when the pony dirty bucked it's kid off and galloped loose through the warm up.

So here's the thing: horses are horses and from time to time, they're going to horse in ways we don't like. That's true whether you ride Valegro, Courage, my beloved Paddykins, a European Sex God, or a mule. The important thing is be sure that when you have those moments, you can deal with them.

mostly i deal by taking pictures

People with more means than myself can pay trainers to fix the bad parts, but I need to be able to ride through them. With Courage, I can (so far) handle it myself. He's athletic and can be a bit nutty, but he's never out to hurt me intentionally. I know what his range of reactions are, and I'm reasonably comfortable with them.

So yeah. I could try to get something else, but no horse is perfect and frankly, I like the the one I have.

most of the time anyways

Socially Awkward Equestrians United

non horsey people don't understand

Because I've met some of you, I know that I am not the only socially awkward equestrian out there. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that the reason most of us manage to blend in to non-horsey society at all is because we have online pony friends and blogs that let us scratch the itch so we can have occasional non-horsey conversations with co-workers and relatives and neighbors. 

But that still leaves us as a little socially awkward. 

For example: you possibly remember when I signed up for a dressage clinic at the fanciest barn in the area with a VERY BNT this spring. 

And then Courage wouldn't get on the trailer and I had to make this super-humiliating phone call (yes, AFTER introducing myself to the clinician while auditing) to say we weren't coming. 

Ahem. 

So I ran into the host trainer a few weeks back. She'd just hosted another clinic with said VERY BNT trainer that I was kindly invited to but was still too humiliated to show my face at. 

She says hello and is her usual super-polite self AND DIDN'T EVEN MENTION THE CLINIC and I'm all like "oh you just had another clinic. so sad it didn't fit into my work schedule so I couldn't come audit".

Which like.

Was a bald-faced lie. 

we do dressage better now

It didn't really fit into my work schedule, but that was 100% not the reason I wasn't there. I wasn't there because just thinking about it makes me want to sink through the floor and I hope that very kind gentleman who teaches the clinics forgets I ever existed. 

BUT WHY DID I BRING IT UP.

I don't know. Just awkward. 

cute Courage pic to cut the awkward a little

That's possibly almost as bad as the time I audited a Jimmy Wofford clinic. It was literally the week after he got turned down the the position of US Eventing coach, which was a basket he'd kind of put all his eggs in. Someone asked him about it and yeah, REALLY SORE SUBJECT. He did.not.want. to talk about it, which is fair. 

So all the riders go get ready. The friend I'm auditing with goes to get Jimmy coffee. It's just me and Jimmy Freaking Wofford, standing under the eaves of a house in the pouring rain. Side by side. 

And for the next 5 minutes, all I can think is "don't talk about the eventing coach position" and "don't say anything stupid that he might remember". 

So we stood there. You could cut the awkward with a Mack Truck. No knife required. To this day, I don't know what I could have said to him, because just thinking about the experience makes me so uncomfortable that I want to die. Oh, and yes, a trainer I rode with knew him and called him one time to ask about attending that clinic in another year. And he was like "please come. the people there are so weird".

same facility. no j wo.

And yeah, I know EXACTLY who he was talking about.

...which is why I'll probably never audit another  J Wo clinic. I bet he remembers. That was super weird. 

Ahem. 

So yes. Socially awkward. Any one else have a story to share? Please tell me I'm not alone.

Disillusioned

photo by horselessinhalifax

Don't take my ridiculously emo title too seriously. I'm sitting at my computer sipping a screwdriver (best.drink.ever.), listening to the rain outside with a snuggly puppy on my lap. Life is good and I'm not complaining.

Noted: I am writing this on Sunday night, so it's not like I'm some Monday-morning-boozeaholic. Everyone knows the only thing you can drink in the morning is mimosas. Or Bloody Marys, but I'm not into those.

Anyways.

Everyone needs puppy bath spam

Courage threw a shoe on Wednesday and I haven't sat on him since. He's supposed to get completely reshod on Monday and that's all fine and dandy and the time off is probably good for him. It's definitely good for me. Not only do I get more puppy cuddle time, but also I get to think about what exactly I'm doing and where I'm going with Courage.

And the truth is, I don't know. I know I don't have enough knowledge to bring him along on my own, but I also know that a show situation is all wrong for us. Show people have show goals that are more important to them than the slow, steady upbringing of a horse. That's all well and good if you have a horse that's a little thick and takes pressure well, but if you have a Courage, it's a recipe for disaster. Just because he can jump a big fence doesn't mean he should.

Don't want to ruin this face

If anything, it means that he should jump less of them until he's got a solid grasp of the flatwork and basics that he needs, because the temptation to just jump up will be too much. It's not that big jumps are bad. It's that if he doesn't have the strength and balance to jump them correctly, he can't handle the pressure and we start taking mighty metaphoical leaps backwards.

photo by horselessinhalifax

And maybe I just sound like a whiny ammy babying my precious pookykins. But you know what? 1) If I am, that's my prerogative and 2) Not every horse person in the world is ramming and jamming horses up the levels. I'd venture to say that the better ones don't.

I know all that.

I just feel kind of alone in knowing it. At this moment, there isn't a trainer I trust with Courage's development. (excluding S. She is awesome and I love her, but she doesn't exactly train full time due to the "real person job" thing". I feel desperately alone with no way to fix it. I know I'm not the be all and end all and I know I don't want my horse ruined by going too fast or by me putzing around and messing things up.

I've seen what that does to horses (haven't we all) and I want no part in it.

Maybe we will master standing still.

So yes, I will continue to plunk along mostly by myself and not rush and I know we'll get somewhere eventually. It just absolutely kills the perfectionist side in me to feel like I'm not progressing and training my horse the way I think I could with more oversight. I want the ability to move him forward confidently.

I want it and I can't have it. It's out of reach.

It makes me want to say "**** it" (you're welcome kids. you win this round) and just take up western. Or pull his shoes and give him the winter off. Or almost anything other than keep hacking away at something I know I can't master on my own. Is that so very unreasonable?

What Have I Done? (Farrier Edition)

Happy boys playing in the arena before the latest ice sheet

Ok, so I have this rule on my blog: no discussing of hoof care techniques. It's like discussing politics and religion in polite society. Just don't do it. People get all up in each other's business and things are said that shouldn't be. We all have opinions and we probably hold them dearly and if we want to change other people's minds, we need to do it on NOT MY BLOG. K?

That said.

Cuna has stereotypical TB feet. His last farrier didn't do him any favors, but the new guy is doing his best. Cuna's right front hoof has a badly underrun heel and it hasn't been getting better. Given our absolutely horrific winter weather and the fact that our trainer escaped to AZ for better working conditions, we aren't doing a ton.

I told the farrier to pull Cuna's hind shoes. I got my hours cut way back, and every little bit helps. He hemmed and hawed and muttered and grumbled. And then muttered and grumbled more. "Are you having a brilliant idea?" I ask him.

"I think we should just pull them all," he said.

After subjecting him to a string of questions and verifying that he would indeed come back out and put shoes on if/when it starts to go very badly, he did it.

"That's all?" I asked.
"That was a fine bit of work there," he said.
"Well yes," I said, "but usually your fine work takes a lot longer."

Cuna is boss horse. Go away.

So there it is. I never, ever thought I'd say this and I'm not convinced it will last, but my TB gelding who has probably been in at least front shoes since he was 18 months old is now barefoot. The plan is to leave his shoes off for one cycle to let his heels decontract a bit and hopefully get them growing more.

Only problem so far? Due to the aforementioned cut hours, I have to choose between new muck boots (mine gloriously died and we have INCHES of water and ice everywhere) and a hoof supplement to help him out while we try this out. Or neither and then I can afford gas.

It's not like we have a lot else to do.

So that's the story of my barefoot thoroughbred. Alternate title: "Oh god, oh god, what have I done?"

Someone tell me his hooves aren't going to explode into tiny pieces and take years to recover. I am really quite nervous.

Thoughts

Can I just say that I love this picture?

Yeah.

I do.

A week ago Saturday, Cuna and I were jumping in fine form. We were scheduled to go to a cross country clinic the coming weekend and I was hoping things would work out more satisfactorily than last time.

Instead I went on a trip to a show in a different state as a groom. I'm not really sure what that says about me.

WE HAYTZ THE BUGZ

It was a long, fun week. I'm now back in town, gettting reacquainted with Cuna, and planning to head to a different schooling event in early July (Rafter K clinic/derby for all y'all locals).

My thought is that we will do two XC lessons on Friday and Saturday. On Sunday, if I'm not mentally ready to go beginner novice, it may be time to consider a discipline change.

Let's face it. I have the horse. I have the ability. If I can't get myself together, I need to find something else to do.

Jumper shows may be calling my name.

Grumpy

Between Izzy's odd physical mystery issue and the crappy weather lately, I was not in a super good mood to ride yesterday. However, I did want to see if she'd be any better after a couple days of her new supplements. Premature maybe, but you know how that goes.

We had construction on the neighbor's property right next to the outdoor arena, complete with a crane and trusses going up. Yay! A boarder had turned both of her horses out in the indoor and wandered off, so that was off the table unless I felt like hunting her down and acting bitchy, which I didn't. Oh well. Izzy can just deal with the construction, right?

Then a car pulled up. And another. Oh look! A meeting of the scary-riding-boarders, and they're all riding in the outdoor together. I don't mind riding with other people, but I was really wanting to ride alone so I cold just concentrate on Izzy and see what's effecting her. However, these people are truly terrifying to ride with (they have little-to-no control of their horses and no concept of horses needing some personal space).

I made a grumpy face. I very nearly put Izzy away. Then, I realized that at least the round pen with it's nice sandy footing is on my side of the road. I would have gone to the track, but there was also construction on the bridge to the track. Boo construction.

Anyways. Izzy actually did really well, considering. Her walk was somewhat better--a touch more forward and less sticky. She picked up the trot easily both ways and didn't fling her head. We were actually having a decent ride right up until she had a head-flinging fit going to the right. I just stayed still and rode through it, then asked for canter. She cantered with minimal fuss, but was not at all forward to the right.

In other news, my much-anticipated Micklem bridle showed up yesterday. I'm looking forward to trying it out today to see if it does anything for her general itchiness and head-flipping-ness.

Discouraged

Something else is wrong. I suspect Izzy's NQR in her left hind. She was ok going to the left, but had an absolute fit about going right and taking her right lead. This is particularly remarkable because She's a right-sided horse. Even loose, she was taking the left lead when going right, though she did pick it up on the lunge. That said, I could barely keep her out on a circle to the right because she kept leaning in like she was trying to keep weight off that outside hind. Oh, and she absolutely couldn't go straight to the right. She isn't off, she's just a little short on the hind, so I'm thinking she tweaked something.

Sigh.

I will call the chiro today and see what we can do.

I'm just feeling discouraged, though. Sometimes I think I should just sell Izzy to someone who could appreciate/use her more and buy something slower and stupider for myself to putz around on. Part of the problem is that I really can't afford lessons right now. I could maybe, but every time I have some money for it, I get to pay some other equine professional to fix the problem pony. I feel a bit adrift and I'm not sure what to do about it.

Part of me wants to explore other options. There is an eventing barn near me with some high-ish level trainers. Maybe I should explore either moving her there or taking some lessons (with imaginary money, at this point). I know a girl who's a really excellent rider and does some training--maybe I should see if she'd come ride Izzy a few times.

We could take more lessons with Cathy, but I feel like her teaching style isn't really the best for me at this point. She knows how to do a lot of things, but she's not always good at conveying the 'why' which is what I need. If I'm going to work on my own most of the time, I need to understand more than just the mechanics. I need to know the theory behind it so I can develop it more on my own.

Objections to my plans so far:
1) Money.
2) RE: the eventing facility. Pretty sure it's expensive. Plus, the trainer is not known for his kind and sympathetic understanding of horses. More like, most of them run like mad at every jump they see because they know they'll get whipped if they don't. Frankly, I like Izzy's jumping style and don't want to screw with it.
3) RE: the rider. I don't know. She's a rider and not really a trainer and she's pretty shy, so I'm not sure she's really what we're looking for. It wouldn't hurt to have someone more experienced ride Izzy for me, but I don't think it would help me all that much, and I'm the basic problem.

A very large part of me just wants to hunt down a full time good-paying job and move Izzy to some magical facility where a pro rides her a few times a week and I can take lessons like a typical well-to-do adult ammy. The problem? I don't think that mythical facility even exists. I don't know where I would send her. Oh, and job hunting right now? Ha. Ha ha ha. It's that bad.

So... any words of wisdom for the floundering adult ammy who feels like she's just screwing up her perfectly nice horse?