Newton's a Bitch

Let's just take a moment to appreciate how I rode through C's antics for FOUR YEARS and never really even came that close to falling off.

hm that's sky

Cough.

Well.

is it douchy to post screen shots? maybe? 

So. 

After the clinic that completely kicked my ass, I spent a day crippling around not going to my barn. Then yesterday I thought a fun idea would be to toodle bareback (despite clinician being like MARCHING WALK NOT TOODLE NO) (whatever) (#toodle4lyf). 

So we toodled and chatted.

Helped trainer teach lessons.

ZB NOSE ON TRAINER LADY YAS

I was feeling all happy and confident and comfortable and like lalalala not paying attention.

Annnnnnd I thought Zoe saw the nice lady walk up to the arena gate, but she did not.

So she stepped slightly to the left like O HAI LADY I IS ZB.

comfy comfy couch

And between me having zero tone in my muscles and Zoe being roughly couch-shaped, I slid off the side.

Landed on my feet.

Grabbed mane to catch my balance.

Tripped over a ground pole.

Fell on my ass.

shame selfie. Zoe not impressed.

Giggle.

The lady was absolutely mortified (for existing, apparently) and I was dying laughing.

Zoe was pretty confused why I was not on her anymore. I smooshed her smooshy face, then got back on.

U HOKAY MOM

ZB WILL GET ON THIS

So there you go. Apparently bolting OTTB doesn't begin to unseat me, but slightly side stepping baby draftie is my undoing.

And yes, if I was sitting up and riding and MARCH NOT TOODLE and ONETWOTHREEFOUR, I probably wouldn't have fallen off. Oh well. Had to happen sometime. 

A Bump in the Road

The best at posing

Last week, I focused on riding effectively. I held contact, rode Courage forward, and didn't let him lean out his shoulders. Not surprisingly, he gave me some really quality work. We slipped in a weekend ride, I got two of the best trot transitions that he's probably ever done.

Then he took Sunday off and we picked things up again today. We started strong--his walk was the best it's ever been. I did very little and he was giving me nice work. We could bend both ways and move off my leg and steer very accurately.

I was elated. We stepped up into the trot with a totally decent transition that I only prepped for just a few strides...

...and there was just the tiniest hitch in his get-a-long.

We dropped back to walk, and he felt fine.

He is the best at time off

Up to trot (another nice transition), and it was more defined. Redheadlins said it looked like left front. I pulled his boots off, checked his legs, and picked his feet. Nothing was immediately apparent. No heat, no swelling, no rubs, no rocks.

I hopped back on without his boots to see if it was a rub problem, but no dice. Definitely off when asked to make a tight left hand turn. Pretty much fine on a straightaway.

Oh Courage.

His farrier will be out to check on him soon and he gets bodywork later this week. He's also taking a little time off to recuperate. I guess it's decent timing, since I am absolutely slammed this month, but I hope he feels better soon. He's just so much fun to ride!

Fun and Pictures

Ok, first things first. Y'all should go to Riley's blog and enter the amazing sweet contest. If you're poor like me from having two horses, guess what? You can make two entries! I've sent in my first entry, but need a suitable picture for the second. It's super fun and the prizes are incredible. Check it out!!

Adorable rockstar

Second things second: due to it apparently now being fall, Mr Courage debuted his fist blanket since I've owned him.

How can a snuggly warm horse not just make you happy? He was pefectly quiet about the whole thing and not the least bit concerned. I did halter him to put it on, since you just never know.

Now I know. Rockstar. As usual.





I have a list of blog posts to write this week (hello review time), but I just wanted to share some fun shots today.

We are trying out a new saddle and I am practicing jumping with my butt staying out of the saddle on the back side so that he can use his hind end effectively.

What can I say? Defensive habits die hard. Those of you who were around last fall remember that I was working on this same concept with Cuna before... well, the shit storm that was this year.

Why jump when you can trot?

Regardless, we are making progress and the little dude was great.

Also once I got out of the saddle, he got really bored of wee cross rails. He's totally got the idea of jumping now, so there is no funny wiggliness to the fence, but he wasn't impressed enough to do more than trot over them after the first try.

First time over the wee x

Onwards and upwards! This week I plan to move the jumps to new places in the arena and make the crossrails more impressive. Maybe we'll get really crazy and jump some tiny verticals if I can get my position under control and my stirrups short enough.

Sure is fun having things to work towards and seeing actual progress. I feel like we're squeezing as much in as possible before the weather totally nosedives. Everyone else loving fall?

Never Take for Granted...

Not without precedent

I thought we'd pinned down Cuna's on/off-ness, but on Wednesday he was not doing well.

I came out Thusday after work. It was hot enough that changing into stretchy pants didn't sound like  fun, but cool enough that I did want to check and see how he was feeling. I pulled his wraps off, threw a bridle on, grabbed my helmet and hopped on bareback.

Or at least, I tried to.

My leg was halfway over his back when the turnout horse galloped STRAIGHT AT US and the wind picked up. Cuna took off leaping and bucking through the barn area. I stayed semi-on for about three jumps and was unceremoniously deposited in gravel right in front of some guys doing work on the barn. Cuna made a few more leaps, then stopped to eat grass.

Guess I sort of deserved that.

I walked up to Cuna and caught him after convincing him that I hadn't, in fact, fallen from the sky and it was ok to let me close. Of course everyone in the immediate barn area had seen him rocketing around and they all came running because it was sooooo not a Cuna thing to do.

I was deemed "too unwell to jog" so my trainer jogged Cuna out. He looked oddles better than Wednesday (ya think?), but still not sound. She handed him back to me as I spit dirt and sand out.

"He's old and smart enough that he didn't learn anything from this, right?" I asked.

"Yep," said my trainer.

"Good. I still don't want to change and put tack on."

The rascally rapscallion!

We made a plan to move forward with and I fed Cuna cookies.

Yes folks, I just got bucked off my lame geriatric horse.

Honesty and Horsemanship

By C.W. Anderson

Growing up, I had more access to books than real horses, so I spent hours and hours reading. I lived and breathed C.W. Anderson and Marguerite Henry and a host of others. From them, I gleaned some of my most basic riding principles: "Always the rider, never the horse." I internalized it so deeply that I didn't even realize how much it affected me.

When I was struggling with Izzy, I kept beating myself up. "I'm not good enough", "I'm just bad at this", "I'm too out of shape", whatever. It had to be my fault, every time. Part of selling her was letting go of that and realizing that while I have my shortcomings, she also had hers. It wasn't that I needed to just get better--it was that it was never going to work for us.

Cuna really was the one who let me see that I actually can ride and I've mostly moved on. As I was reading today, I ran across a quote that just resonated with me.

"One of the most common mistakes I see riders make is to accept total responsibility for a refusal. It is the rider’s responsibility to remember the course, compete at the ­appropriate level for the horse’s experience and training, approach in a rhythm and not ask for impossible angles or efforts. The rest is up to the horse. The horse’s response cannot be to say to his rider, “You blinked. I can’t jump when you blink. I can’t work under these conditions!” Oh, no. The fact that you needed three-sixteenths of an ounce more pressure with your reins or that your heels could have been down ­another five ­degrees has nothing to do with it. He knows how to jump. You arranged an ­obstacle in his path, and his job is to jump—first time, every time." 
-god (aka Jimmy Wofford), whole article here.

The stunning Izzy mare

I realize there is a balance here. The horse must be taught, but to acknowledge that the horse also has responsibilities is just freeing for me. I know I'm not the only one who struggles with that, "Is it me? What am I doing wrong?" when the truth is, there are two sides to every discussion.

I'm going to stand on my happy horse soapbox for a minute here and just say that this sport is entirely too dangerous and expensive to not love every second. Really. Especially if you're an ammy owner type who just has one horse to ride most of the time, it's not worth it to fight it out with an animal you don't enjoy. 

Cutest horse ever. Even lets me dress him.

You doubt? I am all mushy goo goo over a certain 18 year old OTTB gelding who is the sweetest, crankiest, most mean bastard horse I know. And I'm not a mushy goo goo person. Just ask Rinsie.

Here's what I'm trying to say: we need to be the best riders we can be and not blame our horses for out shortcomings. We need to couple that with an understanding that horses aren't perfect. They have personalities. Not every horse is a match for every rider and that is ok.

Cuna is the walking definition of a schoolmaster and he understands his job. The reason I can jump a giant oxer with no reins on him is because he knows that if he's pointed at a fence, he is to jump it. When I make mistakes, he points them out to me, but he's never mean, dirty, or scary. Because Cuna holds up his end of the deal, CW Anderson's mantra rings true: it is always me, never him (usually).

If you're struggling with a horse that tests your limits as a rider and that you don't look forward to seeing every.single.day, consider that maybe, just maybe, you should look for your very own Cuna instead of blame yourself for what just won't work.

I know I'm not the only one out there who has worked through this and I love connecting with other people on this issue. Anyone else have a Cuna? Think they need one? Walking through the process now?

PS Original Cuna is not available.

Lessons Learned from the Inevitable

Or, "The Deranged Monkey Strikes Back".

Gratuitous cute Cuna photo spam

Today was a jumping lesson in preparation to go cross country schooling this weekend. I was excited at first, then a little worried. I'm doing so much better as far as confidence under saddle, but we hadn't had a lesson in a while and I felt a mite twitchy. I didn't make excuses for myself and showed up in the arena on time with my new lesson buddy and her sensible mare.

We started out trotting a complex pattern over ground poles. There was a one stride, an angled three stride line immediately after, and a three stride bending line. It doesn't sound all that difficult until you factor in that we had to do the whole thing with one hand on our heads. Yes, that means the other hand was on the reins and all directional impulses came from our legs. Nothing like a freaking tough exercise to make you realize that you suck at life.

Anyways. We were going on our merry way and Steph set everything up to crossrails. She apparently thought I wasn't being challenged enough--she has complained before that I do absolutely nothing with my hands. Thus, I got to cross my irons and do the exercise with one hand. Awesome. We made it through, albeit with a couple of strategically placed circles to regain some semblance of speed control. As we came over the last tiny X, something happened.

Picture this monkey, only with a crazed look on his face, riding a horse

Either Cuna took off or I inadvertently hooked him with my spurs. Either way, we made a circuit of the small, oddly shaped jump arena at a mad TB gallop. I took my reins in both hands, but there was no recovering my stirrups. I brought him down to a 20 m circle at a mad gallop. The turn was so tight that I felt myself sliding off the side. I grabbed mane, breastcollar, and anything I could get my hands on and managed to get back in the middle, but at this point, full on "Deranged Monkey Cling" had set in.

I could hear Steph yelling direction, but the primal instincts I was operating on didn't even attempt to follow them. I tried to wrap my leg around his barrel and was rewarded with a mighty buck (yes at a gallop) as Cuna reminded me that I still had spurs on. Damn.

As we rocketed around the circle again, I noticed that our lesson buddy was standing quietly, spectating, DIRECTLY IN MY PATH!!!! I didn't dare pull left--I knew the change in direction would fling me into the fence. I didn't dare go further right because at the rate of speed we had attained, I thought there was a good chance Cuna wouldn't be able to stay on his feet. I was absolutely certain that Cuna would see the other horse and be like "Hi buddy" and stop.

Perish the thought! We charged directly at the other horse. At the last moment, the mare was like, "Hey mom, don't think he sees us!" and took off as well. I slid off the side and watched hooves flash over my head as I landed in the sand next to the mare's rider. Cuna and the mare booked it for the barn with Steph and the mare's rider in hot pursuit.

As I knelt in the arena, catching my breath, I realized a few things.

1) I may not have completely conquered the "deranged monkey cling", but by golly I've improved it. This marks the first time in years that I have fallen off and landed on something other than my head. Remember? This fall and that fall. Yep. Landed squarely on my left hip, which means I have been working hard enough at redistributing weight into my feet (aka two point challenge FTW!!!) that falling is no longer akin to a missile launch.

2) It really wasn't that bad. I can fall and not get seriously hurt. If you've ever had a riding wreck, you know exactly what I mean--the idea of falling is terrifying because of the misery it ends in. Just popping off and hopping back on is not big deal. I probably (unfortunately) need to fall a few more times to really get that through my head.

3) Dammit, I love this horse. After his mad gallop through the barn, he was captured by the BO, led back to the arena by Steph, and then greeted me like nothing ever happened. I got back on and did some leg yielding and halting practice to get my legs working and my mind functional, and then he carried on just as quiet as could be.

4) Despite his many perfections, Cuna is a horse. I still have to ride. We got some new jumps yesterday, one of which is a nice little gate. Steph added it in to our pattern. I just assumed Cuna would jump it and didn't give him the best ride. He slammed on the brakes right in front of it. Whoops. We backed up a few steps and jumped it from there, and he was lovely.

5) Have I mentioned that I love Mr. Cuna? I am a person that just prefers a forward horse, which he is. It was so refreshing to get back on him and have him take me to the fences like he always does. None of this "being brave for both of us" thing anymore. He takes care of him and I have to figure out me.

Feeling the pony lovin' 

We finished up the lesson when I was able to canter the whole course without grabbing his face and making him add in lots of extra strides. Amazingly, he goes SO MUCH BETTER when I sit up and ride and ignore that monkey cling.

First Fall Post-Crash

Check out this action. This is the jump set up for my (and Devon's) lesson on Saturday. It looks pretty cool and a little confusing, and it totally is.

We started out by doing some position exercises--mostly two point at the walk. As the sun came up, we went to trot around the whole arena, and just as we passed the spot where I'm standing to take this picture, Izzy took off like a bat out of hell. I give you this section from Izzy's perspective:

"So I'm totally trotting around with mom bopping along on top of me. I have no idea what she's doing (nor.mal.) so I'm just looking around at these big pretty bushes. Clearly mom has no idea what's going on-she's just kicking me forward and keeping the reins loose. Doesn't she have any idea what -might- be in there???? OMFG GIANT ATTACK BUNNY RABBIT!!! RUN RUN RUN GET AWAY SAVE YOURSELF!!! SADDLE SLID!!!! ZOMFGZFZFZ THERE IS A DERANGED MONKEY HANGING OFF MY SIDE WHERE DID MOM GO MUST GET AWAY FROM MONKEY!!!!#%^#@%!!!"

At this point, I fell off. Izzy stopped a stride or two later and gave me a bit of a look. Her saddle was twisted off to the side. Thankfully my breastcollar kept it from going under her. Nothing like a loose-ish girth and a round horse, is there?

Anyways. There were drag marks in the arena from me. I landed on my butt and my neck and it hurt like crazy.

I got up, rearranged everything, and got back on. After all, I am having a lesson. I'm not going to lie. It was terrifying. It was all I could do to bite back the tears and grit my teeth. I MUST finish. I WILL finish. I hurt, but I will.not.quit. At least, not until the lesson is over.

After all, I still had this to do. (NOTE: video is of Stephanie on Foster. This is to demonstrate the exercise we were doing.)

Do you see the line? Not yellow to yellow. Low yellow to red to red. Three jumps. One stride between each. 45 degree angles. One straight line.

There is no time to make adjustments or use the reins. You have to come in perfectly straight and stay perfectly still.

Izzy and I totally rocked it. I may have been terrified to trot around the perimeter of the arena, but I could canter complex courses. So it goes.

Sunday was not my best day ever. I couldn't turn my neck and I was in constant pain. I opted not to ride, but I noticed that after I came off, Izzy was still super spooky every time we went through that corner. I had to grab mane each time just to keep from hitting her in the mouth.

So Sunday I booted her up and we went to lunge in the scary corner.

Damn, she looks good.

I made use of our groundwork training from this summer, really getting her to be responsive.

I kept her forward, made her stop and reverse directions on command, and let her work the kinks out. All without turning my head. Ouch.

No worries--I am/was the expected level of sore, so nothing is broken. It just hurt.

I have not been back on yet. I was all alone at the barn today and am in process of replacing my helmet, so I decided that plus the residual pain made it a bad idea. Still, I am playing through my head mental video of what happened and trying to change my reactions. I need to correct this 'cling like a deranged monkey' trait. It's really not helping anything.

We Conquer XC!!!!!

Getting the wondermare ready.

Warming up.

Check out that sexy tail.

Jumping logs!

Up bank!!

Down bank!

World's most awkward ditch picture!!

Ditch!!

Water all by our onesies!!

And yes, this ended just as poorly as it looks like it's going to. She jumped, but I was way,way ahead of her and got catapulted. I landed on my face and left arm, which feels like it rearranged all my teeth (but is really just sore), and broke a bone in my arm. Yay...

In case you doubt my grit, here is me re-jumping that fence with a broken arm. ER referred me to a specialist who I hope to see today to find out exactly how bad it is. I'm hoping for a quick recovery.

Couldn't be prouder of my pony mare, though. She was fab.

The Best and Worst

First off, a picture of the barn dog "helping" feed on a windy day. He didn't want to get off the 4 wheeler.

Izzy and I had another jumping lesson on Saturday. Irie's mom was unable to attend, so the only picture I have is of Izzy waiting patiently at the trailer, even though I forgot to bring a haynet for her. <3 data-blogger-escaped-br="" data-blogger-escaped-her="">

The lesson was great! Izzy warmed up really well. We focused on 'fingertip control' at first, in which I try to get a maximum response to minimal aids. Next, we worked on focusing on where we wanted to go in order to get our horses to move with purpose. An example would be instead of just asking for a trot transition, focus on a place you want to get to and then ask. This gives you a goal and allows your horse to obey promptly.

We also did an exercise in which we lightened one leg at a time in the stirrups, allowing our whole leg to contact the side of the horse instead of just putting our weight in our stirrups. This will be important later.

The first exercise we worked on was just cantering over poles set at a 90 degree angle to one another. It was a long three, a comfortable four, or a short five, and we got to do all three variations. Next, Stephanie set the poles up to 2' verticals and had us canter over those both directions, focusing on getting four comfortable strides, jumping perpendicular to the fence, and staying balanced. It was harder than I thought.

Finally, we incorporated a third element: a 2'3" square oxer (which sounds tiny to those of you who actually jump, but it's good-sized for Izzy and I right now). The pattern was now this: canter in to a 2' vertical, turn left and 90 degrees in 4 strides, jump another 2' vertical, turn right and 90 degrees in five strides, jump a 2'3" oxer.

Whoa. That was hard.

I went first and really struggled with it because I have some major position flaws that this exercise highlights. First off, I tend to move around too much in front of the fence, which makes Izzy shorten because she's confused. Then, my in-air form is bad, so I take back on the reins and totally lose my legs, which makes leg yielding through the turn virtually impossible. We manage to get over the second fence, but not the third.

Finally (probably 3 or 4 tries later), I seem to get it. I shorten up my reins, and grab Izzy's mane about a third of the way up her neck. This forces my hands to stay forward, which keeps me in better balance and allow me to use my leg. We make the second jump on a fairly severe angle (yay Izzy! Already compensating for my dumbness!) We barely made the turn to the third jump (oxer), and I showed it to Izzy too late. BRAKES!

The good news is, I wasn't ahead of her and my position barely even bobbled when she stopped. It was just poor riding by me and greeness by her, so Stephanie had us canter around and do that jump alone. Izzy was brilliant.

Then, we put all three together. We developed a rhythmic canter to the first jump. I put my hands in her mane and kept my leg on. We did a nifty leg yield through the sharp left corner and caught the second jump square in the middle. I didn't worry about her lead and made the right hand turn quickly enough to allow her to see the jump before we were right on top of it. I kept my leg on and my hands still and we positively FLEW over the oxer!!

And then...














Yep, stirrup leather totally busted about a stride after the fence. If only I'd paid more attention to the lesson earlier about distributed my weight through my leg instead of just my stirrup. I went flying (dumping? It wasn't graceful) off Izzy's left side, and my lesson buddy assures me that she let out a mighty buck once I was off.

It was pretty hilarious. I mean, I was done. We nailed the exercise, so there was no reason to do it again. I just sat in the sand for a moment, hurting and processing. Then I got up, pulled the other stirrup off the saddle, and rode Izzy around to cool out while my lesson buddy finished up.

Several thoughts:
1) I have not fallen off Izzy in well over a year, so I was more than due.
2) I cannot imagine a better way to come off--neither of us has any confidence issues due to it.
3) Since I am a consummate tack-whore, it is kind of embarrassing to fall off due to tack failure.
4) That said, due to the aforementioned tack-whoring issue, I actually have a new pair of leathers (nylon-lined) at home. The only reason I wasn't using them was because they didn't fit my current irons and I was suppressing my tack-whoring impulse to go buy new irons. Lesson learned: never repress a tack whore.
5) I consciously decided not to give my tack a once-over the night before the lesson because I thought I was too busy. Ha. Pony club was right. Check your leathers.

This jumping thing is addicting.

A More Serious Topic

A friend of mine sold a horse last year. She'd owned the horse for a while, but they never really connected and she had others, so this one just went on occasional trail rides. He was alright. They had a chiropractor work on him once, which did him good, but he was a horse that seemed to lack much personality. He was quiet. Nothing much bothered him and nothing much interested him. He was a quarter horse, so maybe it was breed related. I don't know.

Anyways, last year she sells him to a couple that's retiring to another state and in need of a good, solid trail horse. My friend didn't conduct the actual sale; she sent him to someone who sold horses more often and who had more time to advertise and show him. So far, so good.

Yesterday, my friend gets a call. The horse started bucking about a month ago. No one really checked into why, as far as she knows. Yesterday on a trail ride, the horse bucked his new owner off while going through a gate. The man was wearing a helmet, but it didn't help. The man died on the spot.

We don't know any more details. My friend doesn't know the owner(s). She feels awful and would have disclosed any such issues if she knew they existed, but the horse never exhibited any problem behaviors while she had him.

So I guess here's where I'm going with this. As a horse owner, how much responsibility do you take on for horses you've sold? Does it matter how long they've been gone?

Making Plans

I feel much better today, but Izzy was still very up and stiff going to the left. I think it's partly because she's stiff on her right side. When we go right, she stretches through her left side, but she's probably hollowing her left side just a bit. When we try to go left, she's stiff/sore, and doesn't want to stretch her left side.

At least, that's my opinion. I finally understand what a wonderful dressage clinician tried for years to drill into my head at least. She'd be thrilled, if a bit dismayed that it took me so long to get here.

There is probably more going on that I'm aware of. I know my equitation isn't what it once was, so now that we're working on refining the aids, things that I did that didn't matter now matter a lot. With that in mind, I'm on the schedule for a lesson next week, or sooner if someone else cancels. Cathy owes me a couple lessons anyways for working while she was out of town, so this should be good.

It's also possible that this is like Izzy's rearing on the lunge. We'd work through it, then it would come back, then we'd work through it, then it would come back... every time we worked through it, she understood a little more, and now she hasn't done it in quite a while. (Knock on wood.) At any rate, if she's not going forward, there is absolutely no point in trying to push her into jumping, so we're just waiting again. I was really hoping to get her started this fall, then let her have the winter off, then pick it up again next spring, but it's more important that she understand the basics well than that she can half do a bunch of advanced moves.

Oh, horses.

Oh my god. OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod!!

The title is simply what a fellow boarder said this morning. It precisely describes how I felt for a few seconds.

Everything started out normally. I got Izzy ready, trying to keep in mind some of the concepts discussed in "The Horse Behavior Problem Solver" by Jessica Jahiel. It's a new book I'm reading through. Izzy did just fine on the lunge line; just went along like she was supposed to. She was a little lazy, but that's normal for her.

She's been a little fussy about standing by the mounting block lately. She would walk up to within a few feet of it, then just stop. I wrote it off to her knowing that she was supposed to stop somewhere and just wanting to stop on her terms. It's something we've been working on. So when she was fussy today, I didn't think any more of it than I usually do. She doesn't like to line up right, then doesn't want to step over. As usual, I just made a mental note that we need to continue working on ground work to get her to listen to my aids more.

When I mounted, she immediately tried to walk forward. I stopped her, albeit more with rein than with my seat. I was a bit annoyed. She knows to stand, but she's rather pushy, due to being spoiled by her previous owner. As I fumbled for my right stirrup, she flipped her head once, something she does usually when I've stymied her attempt to get away with something. Before my foot was even fully in the right stirrup, Izzy's barrel rose under me. This is where I insert the "Oh my god. OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod!!"

My initial reaction lasted about .1 seconds. It's the same feeling as when I know I've done something wrong and I'm falling. There is a brief moment of terror, and then I try to figure out what to do. I've been reading a little bit about rearing lately, but I've never, ever been on a rearing horse before. I knew immediately that the worst possible thing Izzy could do would be fall over back wards with me. She landed her first rear, then immediately when up again.

For some reason, I didn't have a hold of the reins to turn her and send her forward. I don't remember dropping them, but I must have. I think it's better that way. I hadn't mentally prepared for a situation like this, and I might have pulled back, even though I know that's the worst possible thing to do. As she went up for the second time, I noticed that I had a strangle hold on the neckstrap that I've put on her every single time I've ridden her. Thank God.

She went up a second time, then a third time. The rears didn't seem incredibly high to me, but it was kind of hard to judge from my angle. It was enough that I had absolutely no control. As she went up the fourth time, I realized that my left foot was quite steadily in my stirrup. Without further ado, I demonstrated an emergency dismount to make the ex-pony-clubber in me proud. I nearly landed on my feet, too. That would have been incredible.

As I collapsed in a heap near the rail, Izzy turned and trotted off to visit the horse on the far side of the arena. My first thought was, "Oh crap, I hope she doesn't break the reins," as she lowered her head to snatch some of his hay. I wasn't even really shook up, and I doubt I'll be sore tomorrow.

Cathy (my trainer) was in the arena and witnessed most of this. As I led Izzy back from the other horse and his hay, we consulted. She is a hard horse to rattle. Aside from the occasional spook, she's really not too bothered. Clearly, she wasn't overly bothered by this, either. That's a little unfortunate, as it means she might try again. We think the reason was actually from yesterday; while at our "show" we sat on our horses and judged each other for 25-30 minutes. That's not an extraordinary amount of time, but Izzy's back is probably a little bit sore because she's not used to having me just sit on her. Our theory is a combination of back pain and attitude.

As such, I lunged her again for 20 minutes or so, dealing with the attitude problems that came up by continuing to send her forward instead of letting her let me know when she wanted to be done. I then had Cathy stand by while I mounted Izzy from a block in the middle of the arena. I wanted her right there to yell at me if something went wrong, and she thought it would be best if Izzy was not restrained. I also didn't want the option of landing on the fence, as last time we were perilously close to it.

I understand that it's not a good idea to mount a horse with a sore back. If she were Cassie, or another older, seasoned horse, then I wouldn't even have attempted it. I would simply have listened to what they were trying to tell me and put them away with a nice scoop of grain mixed with anti-inflammatory and some rest. Because Izzy is still early in her education, however, and because she's used to being able to push people around, I thought it was important to make sure she understood that rearing is not acceptable. I stood on the block and rubbed her hips and shoulders just like I was mounting a baby for the first time. She was quiet, so I got on. When I had both stirrups, we walked off. We did a 10m circle each way, and then I got off. I immediately pulled her saddle off. Cathy checked her and said her back was a little sore, but nothing that should have prompted so dramatic a response.

She has tomorrow off. I'm going out Thursday, but I think I'll just do groundwork and some lunging. After that, we'll see about it. I have a friend who used to be a horse masseuse, so maybe I'll see if she'll work on Izzy a little. I have a lot to think about, though. I guess I have to wait and see if her back feeling better will clear up the problem or if she's now learned a cool trick that makes riding not happen. I sure hope not. :-/