More Winter

There are really not a lot of things to do with a horse when the entire world is under 4-6" of slush and snow.

Let me back up. It's been a cold winter here, but very dry. Our ground is frozen solid and has been for months. Then we finally broke the dry spell with some crazy snow. Now the snow is melting, but the ground is too frozen to absorb anything, so the sludge just sits there and floods and it's cold and awful.

Sexy sporthorse body

That saddle I talked about buying? Yeah, Courage tried it on in the crossties of the barn. It looks like it fits him pretty well. I haven't gotten to even sit in it, because the only "safe" footing that isn't frozen mud topped in ice covered in slush is the road. Asphalt.

I just don't think it's a good idea to take a horse who hasn't been able to run around in weeks, tack him up, and walk down asphalt and expect anything useful to happen.

Out for a walk

That said. Courage seemed pretty quiet yesterday. I meant to bring him into the barn for a thorough grooming, but the driveway had been plowed. The road was clear.

Off we went.

We headed down the road on a loose rope. He was unbothered by the prancing Arabian stallion, passing vehicles, the runner, the dog, or the garbage cans.

I'm crossing my fingers for better weather this week, but if we don't get it, it's possible we will resume riding on the road. Nothing like exposure to create a nice broke horse, right?

Tack 'Ho Therapy

You all knew this post was coming.

The borrowing can't go on

I'm tack 'ho on the best of days, and it certainly hasn't been the best of anything lately. Naturally, when you combine a tack 'ho with severe emotional vulnerability and top it off with a sale, you get a shit ton of new pony toys.

First things first: I ordered a sparkle browband for Courage. He goes in size midget and he deserves to have something that fits. More on this later, I promise.

Nunn Finer "bridge" breastcollar

Then Tack of the Day made a move that can only be called "wildly exploitative of my mental state" and put the breastcollar I've been drooling over on sale for a wildly low price. So yeah, this baby will be coming home whenever the TOTD gods see fit to actually ship it.

I guess the advantage to having a midget horse is that when things go on sale only in XL and XS, you just grab the XS and march to the checkout like you earned it. BOOYAH AVERAGE SIZED HORSES. WHO'S THE BEST AT WEARING TINY SHIT??

Ahem.

That would be Courage.

Berney Brother jump saddle

I thought I'd done enough damage at that point, since I also bought a couple of dvds and a magazine subscription (not horse related), and then I ran across this beauty:

Hm... I own three saddles. Two don't fit C-rage at all and the third is sort of ok for both of us, but not really ok if we want to jump much of anything (we do).

And this was our size and going for a song.

I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. You're welcome for the overly grim metaphor. My bank account insisted.





Naturally, before I found the saddle, I'd already bid on a saddle pad on eBay. It was in our colors with custom embroidery and sparkles and I wanted it. I was trying to be semi-responsible, so I only bid the minimum and figured I'd be outbid almost immediately.

Only I wasn't. Now C-rage is going to be the proud pony sporting a custom chocolate pad with teal sparkles and his name on the side. I'm not even going to pretend to apologize for how blingy and un-traditional it is. Tradition can stuff a sock in it and my little man is going to shine.

I'm back on a very strict budget, as per the usual. I HATE HATE HATE not having money, so it's going to be a slow tack year (ok, quarter) until I feel like I'm back on track.

In the mean time, keep your drool off my toys.

Getting Started

And pose dramatically, obviously

It's been cold and frozen here, so Courage has really exciting things on his agenda most days. It reads something like "eat breakfast. go in my field. eat dead grass. drink water. come back in the stall. eat dinner. sleep."

Sometimes we go for handwalks or brush him. Always cookies.

NOPE

That said, I'm trying to very slowly start easing him back into work as the weather allows since we don't have access to an indoor. We can't do a lot--even when the weather was "warm" the arena was still frozen enough that the little dude declared it "absolutely impossible to canter".

So much walking

That's ok. I have lots to work on. When it's really frozen, we just walk. We do walk/halt/walk transitions to educate him about forward. We practice baby leg yields so he can start to think about what leg pressure means. I try to think about basic riding errors I'm working to correct--weight in my heels, thumbs up and we play with contact just a little bit.

Seriously. How cute is he?

I'm running a fine line with him--between all the work we did last fall and the long layoff to let his muscles relax, he is finally starting to give up the giraffe method he was so fond of. Now he's running in the other direction that sensitive horses are prone to: curling! We're working towards a happy medium and eventually, I hope I can get him happy in the contact.

Look at that neck stretch!

We haven't done much trotting (see: arena conditions), but the little we have has been pretty focused. I want him forward PROMPTLY and moving out, covering ground. We haven't even trotted a circle yet this year, but I'm hopeful that the basics we are doing now will pay off once we finally get rolling.

It's still just early February and I can't hope for much regular riding time until the end of the month. That said, the little dude is pretty good about thinking over the lessons we cover and coming back better than before.

He is going to be a very cool little horse and there is no reason on earth to rush him. I'm looking forward to more consistent riding time, but taking advantage of what I have.

And yeah, soooooo ready for spring.

Ammy Hour: Meet Paige!

We're mixing it up this week. To this point, I've feature adult amatuers in the jumping/eventing world, but Paige is a rodeo queen. It's like nothing I've ever attempted to do, but it's one more way an adult amateur is having fun with horses. Paige blogs over at A Pony and a Payday from the sunny state of California.

Horse showing

1) You’re at dinner with work colleagues. How do you introduce yourself?
Hi my name is Paige I work at Stanford handling Communications, Websites and Social Media. I have a corgi named Raleigh and I ride horses.

2) But what you really meant to say was this:
Hi my name is Paige, I take care of all sorts of techie stuff for Stanford. But honestly I'd rather not be in front of a computer, but in the saddle. Did I mention I have a corgi, he is the best thing ever. No I don't race, yes I jump, yes I rodeo... Well no actually I don't rodeo I just am the pretty girl carrying a flag with a tiara.

Color

3) Tell us about your horse(s):
I have two ponies, yes I am 23, yes I still call them ponies.

My old show horse Sugar Ray Knox, or Ray, who is essentially the horse version of a 40 year old gay fashion designer. We have won a billion World/National Championships (Ok like 5, close enough) he's 20 but every time I try to retire him he goes crazy, so he still shows for his sanity!

Then there is my reiner, sassy Princess pony, KSU Mighty Mouse, or Mouse. This time pony is applicable, she barely sticks at 14.3. Pretty much everything you assume by hearing that name is accurate. She is equivalent to Cady on Mean Girls, she thinks she is the bomb, but quite honestly when faced with detention she will begrudgingly give up her sassiness.

Chrome

4) How did you meet him/her?
Mom found Ray through some sale postings with the American Paint Horse Association, he was coming off being 8th in the nation with his previous owner. We were looking for a youth how horse for me. When we went to try him I didn't like him, like at all. I wanted a 17 hand hunter not a 15'3 western pony. But we ended up buying him and winning state and national titles in both hunters and western so jokes on me!

Mouse was the opposite, pretty much completely and entirely loved her at first sight. I was taking a colt breaking class in college at Kansas State, there was this shaggy mousy colored little filly. I had no clue how at almost 6 ft tall I would even be able to ride something the size of large yearling, but I had to have her. Sick as a dog, in freezing cold, I went to the yearly auction. Walked in, grabbed a buyer's number, bid, signed the form, and walked away with my little pony.



5) What have you done together?
Ray and I have accomplished everything and anything a rider could ever hope for. Unanimous World Champions, numerous top 5 and 10 World Show awards, Nation leader in several categories, and Top 20 in the nation all around. I don't generally brag about myself, but I could tell you all day about how awesome my horse is. He is my one true love after 10 years together.

Mouse has been an accomplishment in her own right, different victories, but exciting nonetheless. She is the first horse I picked out myself. She was broke to carry weight but I put all the beginning training on her, taught her to spin, carry her body, move her hip shoulder anything I wanted. My trainer helped me with the sliding stop and flying change and really finish her out. Our hard work has paid off, in her first two shows she was top 20 at NRHA Rookie Day, and 3rd in the AQHA show at the Grand National.

6) Where are you going together?
Ray is going to get very fat and happy, as long as he wants. I am hoping I can show him a few more times as an Ammy. He just came off a year lease with a cute little one, the ended up 13th in the nation. Looks like he's still got it!

Mouse and I are prepping for our next rodeo queen pageant. Until I can afford to truly hit the reining circuit I am trying my hand at one of my lifelong dreams to compete as a rodeo queen.

7) How do you finance the addiction?
I work 6 days a week. My big kid job is communications with Stanford University. My weekend job is fitting little kids for their up down lessons at a local tack shop.

8) How often do you ride?
Currently my horses are at the ranch, so my riding is sporadic. But when my horses are with me usually I ride 6 days a week.

9) What’s the single biggest thing that helps you achieve your goals?
Tenacity. I am a hard headed stubborn person. Failure and losing are not an option.

10) If there was one thing you could say to people getting ready to join the ranks of riding (or re-riding) adults, what would it be?
Find a trainer you trust and take lessons. Regardless of how much you have or haven't ridden there's always something to learn. Also spend your money on the right things, a $5,000 saddle won't help you if you have a $500 horse. The show Rodeo Girls is absurd, but very accurate, spending $500,000 on a horse doesn't guarantee you will even stay on!

11) What are your horse keeping arrangements?
My horses rotate between the Stanford Red Barn and my parent's 10 acre ranch. Also I routinely send Mouse to my trainer in LA for tuneups.

12) What is/are your long term equine goals?
I always have goals... Ever evolving but completely serious. I generally don't ride just to ride. For now it is to win the Mother Lode Round-Up Queen and then compete for Miss Rodeo California. Ray and I have plans to do a bit more showing, but nothing serious. Eventually I would love to take Mouse to the NRHA Affiliate Finals. At some point I would like to own another hunter and go back to the hunter ring/jumping some.

13) Bottom Line:
Bottom Line, I am not typical to any one discipline. I love rodeo queening and I couldn't imagine doing anything else right now with my life. But rodeo to hunters, I love and do it all.

Strong legs, steady seat and soft hands win; from the roping box to the jumper ring it stays the same.

Thanks to Paige for participating! There are so many different equine outlets for the ammies among us and I love hearing about one that's so unfamiliar to me. It takes all kinds of awesome people and I love getting to talk to them. Are you an adult ammy who should be featured? Contact me through the comments or via email at hakuna.matata at gmail dot com!

Superbowl Fun with Courage!!

Broncos? Seahawks? It's hotly contested on the west coast, even among horse folk. Here's one thing we all agree on: the Budweiser Clydesdales are the best. Because Courage also loves being the best, here is his audition to join the hitch!

Showing the trademark white feathers and bob tail

Already a superstar with a great personality

Fancy Clydesdale trot

Plus sweet moves

Work at liberty

Courage for Budweiser Clydesdale in 2014!! Not only is he wicked handsome and athletic, he is a versatile horse with a solid brain and he'll match with the existing color scheme.

Go team! Yay football food!

Vote Courage.

PS many thanks to RedHeadLins for taking pictures!

Year of the Horse

The brightest spot

2013 was an immensely shitty year with a few bright spots.

I don't know how else to describe it.

Instead of celebrating New Years on January first, I'm taking the Chinese calendar this year. I'm just lumping all of January's awfulness in with the shit-fest that was 2013. I guess I'm proactively claiming some of 2013's bright spots as 2014 material, but let's not get nitpicky.


So here's to moving forward and new experiences and fun adventures. I have a lot of ideas. I'm working on a list of goals.

I am taking advantage of every day to learn and grow with Courage. I'm tackling rider fitness (again) and eating habits (the worst). What Cuna gave me must be proactively maintained--that happiness, that fearlessness--and I want to get out there and do it.

I'm embracing 2014 and going on. It's not all joy all the time, and I try to be honest about my struggles, but I'm ready to move into a new era.














Aimee and Courage, moving forward.

Courage

Finding new ways to pose dramatically

And now the little man finds himself in the unenviable position of taking over the role of a horse so completely irreplaceable.

He's been the back up all along, making do with the leftover scraps of energy and attention that I had. I was never able to fully appreciate who he is, because nearly every time I saw him, I'd say "Courage, I'm having a rough day and I can't take much more. I need you to step it up."

I know it wasn't really fair to him, but it was all I had.

That precious winter sun

But every time, he'd respond. He'd try his giant heart out and make me laugh with his constant quest to be the best at everything he does.

I call Courage a midget and I know he's never going to fit into the size three easyboots that Cuna left behind. They are both remarkable in their own way and in order to appreciate that, I need to let the little bay horse come into his own.

Hands in the air, feet on the dash

The good news is that he really wasn't waiting for me to be ready. Early last week we had a couple days of 40f and sun, so we bummed around the arena with friends. He was so quiet and chill that I called him my western pleasure horse.

When it's too cold for breeches

The world is frozen solid again, but I wanted to try a saddle out on him. The neighbor launched a remote control helicopter, a big dog started running around, a firetruck rolled down the road, and he and I just walked around calmly. 

 He is the best at January.

Cuna brought me here. Because of the old man horse, I am absolutely ok with swinging my leg over the little bay horse and walking off into the fog. I'm not afraid when I plan our sun-soaked summer adventures. I'm ready to ride forward and jump all the things.  Cuna brought me to Courage, and now Courage is taking me on.

Courage and I have had six months together, but I really feel like our journey is just beginning.

Gratitude

Christmas 2013

I'm still here. Thank you for all your kind words. I feel lost. The whole thing is just so unreal. Cuna was supposed to be with me forever--or at least another ten years or so.

I know I did the right thing for him and I'm glad he's not in pain any more.

It's a grim solace, but it's all I've got.

I'm left with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. That old red man changed my life in so many ways. It wasn't just that he let me learn to ride again. Everything about him, my Cuna Matata, everything made me a stronger, better person than I was the day before he paddled his way into my heart.

Badass at 17

Every time I think about the last two years, I just shake my head. I couldn't write this as fiction because it's just too sappy and serendipitous and unreal for anyone to ever believe it, even in some crazy teenage horse story. I was terrified and miserable and ready to walk away from horses.

And then he came. Not only was he huge and handsome and perfect for me, but his silly name was Hakuna Matata. No worries. For the rest of our days.

I can tell that we are gonna be friends

He was standoffish at first, but I wanted to be friends. I bought him a giant bag of peppermints. At first, he'd only take one a day from me. He was closed off and distant.

The cutest face

That lasted maybe a week. I took his picture with me on a big horse show trip to California, and I knew he was the face I wanted to come back to. He was the one for me. It wasn't that I needed a schoolmaster. I needed that schoolmaster. I needed him.

Jumping a house

He taught me about that ridiculous crazy love that makes every moment apart seem unreasonable. He taught me just how much fun we could have together. I could (and did!) ride him everywhere. It wasn't just the riding and jumping. It was the day to day existence, that tacit understanding that everything was ok, because no matter what, we were together.

Just hang on

I faced all kinds of struggles because I had to for him. I dealt with difficult personal situations. I dealt with uncomfortable work situations. I had to push myself, grow as an individual, and become stronger inside and out. It was never easy, but I can look back at the changes I've made and know that today, I am a better, stronger, wiser, and more compassionate human being because that old man horse just patiently waited for me to figure it out.

Conquering water

Not to paint him as something he wasn't--Cuna would never suffer the fools. He demanded a strong ride with the softest hands. He absolutely required steady legs and a still upper body. He only approved a very few riders and I was lucky to be on that list.

Always the tongue

He was noble and he was incredibly goofy. I'll never forget the day he fell in love with the new mare--his head straight up in the air, his silly whinny every time he paddled his way out of his stall to assure the mare that he was still there. And then of course, when I put him in the cross ties and he kicked out to impress her... and his shoe went flying through the air.

Even now, I laugh.

The best view

I treasure the memories of our long solo trail rides through the mountains. We explored everywhere. No matter what, I knew I was safe with Cuna. Big loose dogs would run up to us barking, and he'd just stand his ground and wait. As they got close, he'd lower his head down below his withers and look at them. It never failed. No matter how big the dog, when they got close to the sheer enormity that was Cuna, they quieted down and backed right up.

Reins flying in the wind

There was nothing like the feeling of our early morning gallops. When prepping for our season at Beginner Novice, I probably had him fit to run training. At least. We hacked up the trails until our favorite gallop stretch and then let loose. I never had to ask him to go--I just had to let him know it was an option. The wind whipped my face and made my eyes run, but nothing could wipe the smile off my face. He'd gallop all the way to our finish line, a sagebrush at the top of the long stretch. Then I'd drop the reins and he'd drop to the walk, and we'd hack home on the buckle.

The bravest horse

We chased coyotes and watched deer. We laughed as the young horses spooked and galloped around us. My favorite was when the training horse behind us bolted and bucked past us. Cuna would never lose a race, but he didn't even flick an ear as the horse galloped by. He knew it was trouble and far be it from him to participate in that kind of shenanigan.

Just starting to put the sticks up

And we jumped. Little things at first--he let me just sit there while he packed my butt over tiny fences again and again. I didn't even have to put any leg on as long as I didn't pull on his face. When I finally got myself sorted out, we moved the jumps up like it was no big thing. I jumped higher and rode better than I had in my entire life. He demanded that I ride well once the fences went up, but he was more than fair.

Things we never forget

He was so big and inflexible anyways that I knew that if I had him pointed in the right direction three strides out, we were going to the fence. He might stop, but there was no way he could turn the whole Cuna in time to run out. Some people thought that was a drawback--I always saw it as an advantage.

Unless it was lengthenings. Everyone likes those.

Both of us hated dressage. Who wants to play in the sandbox when there are trails to explore? I do love ribbons though, so we took a few lessons and got sort of good. He gave me everything he had, but he was such a big fellow that sitting down on his hocks required a hell of a lot of expensive maintenance.

So Cuna

He was worth it. In our last six months under saddle together, he kept pace with a prelim event horse in the hills, hacked quietly down busy roads, put in a solid jumping effort in a fancy clinic, and won ribbons at a dressage show. He really did it all.

Retirement shots

Even when he retired, he kept me grounded. It was under his watchful brown eyes that I extricated myself from some unpleasant personal situations and made decisions about my career. He'd look at me and somehow, he just knew. And because he knew, I knew it was ok. He made the hard things simple. Hakuna Matata. Life will go on.

I didn't go to the racetrack to get a horse--I went because I still loved horses, but it hurt too much to hang out at Cuna's old barn and watch everybody else jump. The racetrack was a haven for me, a place to have fun and connect with the old man's past a little bit.

And then I met a horse named Courage.





It was too much. Too sappy, too silly. Hakuna Matata brought me to Courage. At the time, I thought it was sort of symbolic--Courage to overcome the obstacles of the past, courage to become the person I needed to be.

Over the last month, I've realized that there was more. Courage from the past, yes, but courage for the future. Courage to make the hard decisions. Courage to do the right thing. Courage going forward.

Courage is Cuna's legacy in my life. Courage to breathe, to live, to love. Courage that I can overcome.

Courage. The little bay face in the barn.

The handsomest horse

It's too serendipitous and sappy and poetic to be fiction. No one would believe it, except that it's true. I miss the old man horse. I want to believe that I'll see him again. But I know that whatever happens, the hoof prints he left on my heart have made me a better, stronger person and I'll forever be grateful to him for that.

Hakuna Matata

The one and only

Moments in Time

6pm, January 15th
Showing up at Cuna's barn. He hobbles over to the fence to see me, but I know I can't do that to him any more

9am, January 16th
Choking out his name on the phone with the vet, sobbing as I realize it's his last day

10am
Wanting to stop at the grocery store and buy every carrot, apple, and peppermint they have on their shelves, but knowing I'd rather spend the time with him

10.15am
 Hoping against hope that everything will be ok. Seeing him standing in his drylot, in too much pain to walk over to the fence

10.30am
Stroking his baby-soft coat, laughing and crying as he is his goofy self one more time

11am
Loading him up for his last trailer ride

11.45
Waiting for the vet to come out as we stand together in the parking lot. If I pretend we're just here for another round of hock injections, it almost feels normal

12.00
Walking him back to his stall, my hand on his neck as he steps calmly beside me

12.15
Feeding him his last peppermints and watching him dig in to a flake of alfalfa, his favorite thing. Sobbing my eyes out. One more time, his big brown eyes tell me he's at peace and everything is going to be ok

4pm
Crying in Courage's mane. Thankful for everything and everyone that the old man brought into my life.

Cuna

A guest post from my good friend Ellie. I'm wide awake at 3am, but I can't put words together.

 

Today, the world lost the best giant red horse that ever existed. The best horse I never owned. The unshakeable, unstoppable force that was--that is--Hakuna Matata. 




 
 Oh, Cuna. What can I say about him? There aren’t enough adjectives.





 
I have been on Team Cuna since the beginning, when my good friend Aimee first started riding him and I somehow ended up as their biggest fan and personal photographer. I’m not going to pretend that I can articulate, or even know what he meant to her. But for me, watching them evolve into the incredible team they became made me believe that hard work and teamwork could make anything possible. He changed my mind about Thoroughbreds, OTTBs in particular. He inspired me to want to ride again. He helped me learn how to take the perfect dramatic headshot. He put up with all our silly photo shoot ideas... as long as enough peppermints were involved.


 
 The universe is a funny place. At the time, it seemed like fate that Aimee and Cuna found each other in the first place. I watched as my friend rediscovered her confidence and love of jumping. I watched Cuna blossom from a cranky, nondescript old red Thoroughbred into a shiny, sculpted show jumping machine. No, he never really liked dressage, but he was willing to try his hardest for her. It was something intangibly special to watch them get better and braver and more connected over the course of their time together. It felt like a privilege.

 
 It is a sad fact that the universe can be as cruel as it is kind. Of course, good things can’t last forever, but I wish with all my heart that Aimee and Cuna could have had a little longer together. They still had shit to do. Last May, Cuna came up lame. Then he came up REALLY lame. It became apparent over the following months that he wasn’t going to get better. The best case scenario would be to keep him as comfortable as possible. Aimee did everything she could. In the beginning, Cuna took care of her. Now it was her turn. Unfortunately, it has become clear that the kindest thing to do for him is to end his suffering. Rationally, I know that is true. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

 
Even though I’ve come to terms with it, it feels wrong. I shouldn’t have to talk about this horse in past tense. If anyone could have kicked laminitis and Cushings in the ass, it was him. I guess sometimes, life has other plans. It doesn’t feel right. It’s not fair. It can’t be, but it is. I can hardly wrap my mind around it. My heart is in pieces. I am thankful to have been able to see him one more time this past November, and finally get to be with him on the other side of the camera. I will treasure those photos forever.

 
 No, he wasn’t my horse. But I loved him like he was. Thank you, Aimee, for letting me be a part of your journey together. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there today. Go easy, red man, I was lucky to have known you.

 
 Team Cuna to the end.