Back To Good (For Half Of Us)

Wednesday, two shiny red boys went to visit Dr. Bob's trusty sidekick, Dr. Brian, who does lots of bodywork.

Encore was first; he needed his fall shots and a bloodwork panel (all normal, hooray!). In addition, his lumpy back and pelvis, all jammed up from exploding out of starting gates, needed some serious chiropractic attention. So Dr. Brian adjusted his withers. And lower back. And hips. And elbows. And neck. And pelvis. Did I mention he was jammed up? Afterwards, it was amazing, even his topline changed and softened. He gave a sigh of thanks and stood very still for his ministrations. I am very excited that we've reset everything to baseline so I can rebuild his muscle and condition from there.

Solo was next, the problem child. Dr. Brian went over every joint in his body, adjusted a few things, and then said, "Hm." The same sore spots in his loins and behind his hips tweaked as reliably as ever. I'd given him two weeks off to see if complete rest made any difference whatsoever. It didn't. Per Dr. Brian's recommendations, which agreed with Dr. Bob's, we'll keep up the light work schedule for another month, then re-evaluate. We don't want to let him down completely -- he's difficult to condition and just letting bad muscles sit merely gives you tighter muscles and less body support. That miraculous cure I was waiting for? Poor Dr. Brian didn't have it and got to watch my crestfallen face again.

So we'll keep on keepin' on. Encore has been threatened within an inch of his life to stay sound so I can stay busy with Project Horse 2011. Yesterday, he conquered the Blue Tarp of Doom without even a flinch over the course of about 30 seconds. I am baffled by a horse who learns faster than I do so new lesson plans are in order for the weekend!

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The Ubiquitous Foot Post

Brought to you by the cutest face, which I finally managed to capture!

It's impossible not to love me.

Two brothers meet at last.  I hope Solo didn't tell him too many stories in the trailer ride.

Unskippable cuteness out of the way, I shall move on to the Encore Foot Examination 2011.  The study of hooves is fascinating to me.  They are constantly changing with their environment and physical demands.  Encore came to me barefoot, I believe his racing plates were pulled when he came off the track in December of 2010.  I wish I had taken baseline pictures the day I brought him home, because believe it or not, they have already begun to change.  In five days.  Mind-blowing.

His hoof walls look good -- they are strong, smooth, and fairly even.  They were a little chipped up until last night when farrier cleaned up the edges a bit and balanced the heels, but just nothing further than cosmetic issues.  He'll finish the trim next week when he comes back for Solo. 

When you pick up his feet though, that all changes.  Up front, it's not too bad -- his frogs look decent, although his heels are still contracted and he's got some thrushy bits living between them, ewie.  Racing plates rarely do any favours to horsie feet.

Left front

Left front solar view

Right front

Right front solar view.  This one has smashier heels and there's some goop down in the crack at the center of them.

 Then you pick up his hind feet and it's a different story.  I know you probably won't believe me, but there has been a big change in these already.  Both had thrush in the grooves along the frog and the heels were crammed together very tightly with more thrush between them, even more ewie.  I kid you not, those creases between the heels were crammed together tighter than gator jaws, not even space to stick a hoofpick in.  And the frogs were dry, tiny, and shriveled; they definitely were not performing as they should.

These pics (and the ones above) were taken this evening and his heels are ALREADY spreading, opening up that central crack.  His frogs?  Suddenly revived and looking plump again.  The farrier did almost nothing last night, just cleaned the edges and took a bit off the heel bars, I swear.  He has worked for four days on harder ground and coarse arena footing, quite a change from the sandhills!  But he shows no soreness.  The saddest part is that his soles now look as good as the BEST Solo's ever were barefoot.  Poor wussy Solo feet, just couldn't hack it.   

Right hind

Right hind solar view

Left hind

Left hind solar view

I can't wait to see what happens next!  I will probably need to shoe him eventually, but for now, he will stay barefoot unless he tells me he needs otherwise.  I've gone to town with the Thrush Remedy and the Durasole, so we'll all be goopified for a while.

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First Dates

Encore is used to having a job, so I decided to spend the weekend introducing him to our trails around the farm.  We've got hours worth, winding through woods and fields, so it should keep us busy for a while!

I met up with a friend on Saturday so that her horse, Diesel, could provide Encore with a steady buddy. Not that he seemed to need one! He trucked right out in a huge TB walk -- I could feel his shoulders swing out beneath me in a smooth, open stride, what a feeling! With steady steps, he booked right by cars, mailboxes, dogs, shady woods, fallen branches, dead leaves and quite willingly dipped his toes in the ponds. Until....

ZOMBIE DEATH COWS!

As we came around the corner where a herd of Herefords were calmly dozing in the shade, Encore suddenly grew to 18.2 hands and stopped, shaking and blowing as if his life was over.  I quickly decided that since he wasn't going within 50 yards of them and he had only known me for a day, I was dismounting.  Poor little bugger was convinced they would leap the fence and fang him to death.  We just hung out and watched them for about 30 minutes, until Encore returned to normal size and started breathing less like a steam engine and more like a horse.  He dropped his head and licked his lips a few times, although still keeping a careful eye on the beasts.  I felt that was very good progress and I certainly wasn't going to pick a fight or drag him past them, so we turned around, remounted and headed home.

Project Cow Terrors filed for future work.

Today, we headed out with lifeshighway and Pete for a brief ride just to stretch everyone's legs.  Encore was fantastic and led the way most of the time with eager curiosity.  He seems to thoroughly enjoy exploring new places -- as soon as we got on a trail we had not ridden yesterday, his pace tripled!  When we got back, we walked over two small jumps, a tiny crossrail and an 18" bright green and yellow vertical with flower boxes.  As soon as he hopped the cross rail, he said "WHEEEEE, JUMPS, YAY!!"  He peeked at the vertical but jumped readily over, even remembering to pick up his back feet.

Finishing off the weekend, was a good scrub in the bath, a hair trim, and a brushing-out of everything.  The shine came out in the sun and he reveled in the hearty devouring of clover patches.

He might want to be a poser after all.

Inside of front leg.

Front of cannon.

Encore shows off his pinfire scars.  The theory behind this practice is that you use a red-hot bolt to burn through the outer layer of the cannon bone and stimulate the flow of blood and calcium to heal bucked shins.  Valid?  I'm not sure, but it sure looks insane!

I see shiny-ness!!!  Clover noms...

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Thoroughbred Heritage

Warning:  longest blog post in history commences.

One of the exciting things about bringing home a gen-yew-wine (that's how we say it in NC) racehorse is that he comes with a paper trail.  His every move has been watched and logged since he set foot on a track and his family tree has been carefully charted.  So, as you can imagine given my irrepressible curiosity, I set out on a google quest and discovered that I had stumbled upon a pot of gold.

Watch Encore (running as "Joyous Jester") break his maiden with a bang at Pimlico in 2008. Well, now I know he can gallop.

Encore was bred for speed, stamina, and heart; his pedigree reads like a review of the TB leading sires list.  Great names that have almost been forgotten in modern racing spring off the page, as well as a few horses who were founders of the modern jumping sporthorse.  Settle in for a tour of the kings of racing and of the unstoppable heart of the Thoroughbred horse.

AP Indy

As I mentioned in my previous post, Encore is an AP Indy grandson.  AP Indy was purchased as a yearling in 1990 for a whopping $2.9 million, which turned out to not be such a bad investment.  In racing alone, he won almost $3 million and was crowned Horse of the Year in 1992.  He went on to even greater heights in the breeding shed, where he stood for $150,000 per cover until 2011, when he became infertile.  In 2003 and 2006, he was the leading TB sire in the country.  He sired many fantastic horses, one of which was Bernardini, the 2006 Preakness winner who was the first stallion chosen to breed the champion racemare, Zenyatta.

Encore's damsire is Allen's Prospect, a Kentucky-bred stallion, purchased at Keeneland's famous yearling sale for $560,000 (that was a heck of a lot of money in 1983).  A son of Mr. Prospector, he ended up siring a greater percentage of winners than the famed Storm Cat (who has a $500,000 stud fee) and topped both Seattle Slew and Unbridled in national stallion rankings.  He is also known for siring a number of VERY good jumpers and eventers, particularly through his broodmare line.   

It only gets better from here.  His papers include, from the USA:

Secretariat:  Does he even need an introduction?  Just in case you live under a rock, I wrote about him here.

Seattle Slew

Seattle Slew:  The only undefeated Triple Crown winner (1977),  the renowned tough guy Slew won the Eclipse Award in 1976 AND 1978, was awarded Horse of the Year in 1978, was the Leading Sire of 1984, and the Leading Broodmare Sire of 1995 and 1996.  Before he died, Slew sired an amazing 7 North American champions and 1 European champion.  Encore inherits his toughness and speed from both his sire and dam's lines.

Mr. Prospector:  Descended from the Darley Arabian through Eclipse, Mr. P earned the affection of many.  He had the misfortune of racing in the same year as Secretariat AND Forego and it is a testament to his courage and speed that he came second to both.  A Leading Sire 6 times, Mr. P sired a winner of each Triple Crown race, as did his grandson, Unbridled.  He is buried at Clairborne Farms between his old rival, Secretariat and the Canadian legend, Nijinsky.

Swaps

Swaps:  This 1955 KY Derby winner broke records left and right.  Named Horse of the Year in 1956, reporters wrote that Swaps would "go to the front of the race and say goodbye."  Also in '56, he fractured his leg in three places and most parties agreed he would have to be destroyed.  Swaps would have none of it -- he hung in a custom-built sling in his stall for four weeks and trotted out at the end of it to live a long life.

Nashua:  In 1955, he beat Swaps in a match race when the latter had an infected foot.  The two were hearty rivals and Nashua won out as Horse of the Year in 1955, when he won both the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes.  He won over $1 million and was inducted into the Racing Hall of Fame in 1965.  He stood at Claiborne with his sire, the Irish champion Nasrullah.

Citation

Citation:  In 1948, Citation won the Triple Crown and went on racing until he was 6 to become the first horse in history to win over $1 million.  Inducted into the Racing Hall of Fame in 1959, he held the American record on a dirt track for 30 years until Spectacular Bid blew it wide open.  Citation is listed as #3 on the list of Greatest Horses of the 20th Century (he trails only Man O' War and Secretariat) but he won far more races than either legend.

War Admiral:  Contrary to what Hollywood would have you believe, this son of Man O' War was only 15.3 but he won both the Triple Crown and Horse of the Year in 1937.  He was inducted into the Racing Hall of Fame and was a Leading Sire in 1945.

Bold Ruler

Bold Ruler:  As a colt, Bold Ruler was so accident-prone that Bull Hancock (owner of Claiborne Farm) would hide him behind the barn in his own paddock so visitors wouldn't see him.  He was forever cutting his legs to pieces and once nearly bit off half of his own tongue.  Nevertheless, he grew to win the Preakness in 1957, even though there was a 2 inch splinter from his fetlock imbedded in his leg tendons for some time.  As a result he won the Eclipse Award and Horse of the Year in 1957 and was inducted posthumously into the Racing Hall of Fame in 1973.  He sired Secretariat and was the grandsire of Foolish Pleasure, Bold Forbes, Ruffian, and Spectacular Bid.

Round Table:  Foaled on the same night at Claiborne Farm as Bold Ruler, this stallion was the greatest turf horse in US history.  He dominated the world of racing in 1958, winning every award there was, including Horse of the Year.  In 43 of 66 starts, he won $1.7 million and set or equaled 14 records, including 2 US records and 1 world record.  He was the Leading Sire of 1972 and when Queen Elizabeth visited KY in 1984, she requested her own audience with the great horse when he was 30 years old.  He is noted for contributing jumping talent and good temperaments through his genes.

Buckpasser

Buckpasser:  Often called "the most perfectly conformed Thoroughbred ever seen," this stallion was an international record-winning two-year-old.  A quarter crack kept him out of the Triple Crown, but he still was Horse of the Year in 1966 and was the first horse to win over $1 million before the age of four.  He was syndicated for $4.8 million and was the Leading Broodmare Sire of 1983, 1984, and 1989 and is noted for passing on soundness.  His sons include Spend A Buck, Lil E Tee, and Silver Charm.

John P Grier.  I had to note this guy; he was the only horse who would race Man O' War in the 1920 Dwyer Handicap.  Although he did not win, he remains the only horse who ever ran neck and neck with Man O' War for a mile.  That, my friends, is guts.

There is a lot of very impressive international blood there too:

JJ Babu

My Babu:  I admit, I squealed when I found this one.  This French Thoroughbred is one of the most influential jumper and eventer sires of all time.  He set a stakes record in England in 1948 and in 1955 was imported to America for $600,000, the highest price ever paid to import a Thoroughbred to the US.  Syndicated for $1.2 million along with Nashua, he stood at Spendthrift Farm, where he was the Leading Juvenile Sire in 1960 and sired 47 stakes winners.  Even more notably to me, his blood produced Bruce Davidson's 1984 gold-medal-winning mount, JJ Babu, Anky van Greunsven's Bonfire, and the Grand Prix jumper, Sympatico, who set the world record for puissance (high jump) in 1973.

Princequillo

Princequillo:  Bred in France, his dam was shipped to Ireland, where he was foaled, to protect her from World War II.  His sire was less lucky and was killed by German artillery fire in France.  Princequillo and his dam were then sent to the US as the war escalated.  He nearly died on the boat ride over and was sold due to his poor condition.  His owner no doubt regretted the decision, as Princequillo went on to become the greatest distance runner in US history besides Kelso.  He was retired at 4 to the breeding shed of Claiborne where he was the Leading Sire of 1957-58 and the Leading Broodmare Sire of 1966-70, 1972 and 1973.  He is the grandsire of rivals Secretariat and Sham and known for passing on soundness, good temperament, and large hearts.

Northern Dancer

Northern Dancer:  The most successful sire of the 20th century, he won 14 of 18 races and never finished lower than 3rd place.  He set the KY Derby record until Secretariat broke it (who still holds it) and in 1964 he was Canadian Horse of the Year, North American Champion Three-Year-Old, and an Eclipse Award winner.  In 1965, he was also the first horse inducted into the Canadian Sports Hall of Fame (he now shares it with Big Ben) and in 1999 he got his own Canadian postage stamp.  With a $1 million stud fee, Northern Dancer sired a mind-blowing 147 stakes winners.

Nearco:  This Italian Thoroughbred was named one of the most important sires of all time.  He had his own bomb shelter in World War II.  He produced Nasrullah and Nearctic and was the grandsire of Northern Dancer.  Over 100 of his sons have stood at stud around the world, which is a world record apart from St. Simon.

Carbine

Carbine:  This incredible horse from New Zealand won 33 of 43 starts and was 1 of 5 inaugural members of both the New Zealand and Australia Racing Hall of Fame.  He won the 2 mile Sydney Cup in record-setting time as a 3-year-old and won the 1890 Melbourne Cup while carrying 53 more pounds than the 2nd place horse.  He failed to place only once because of a cracked hoof.  Imported to England in 1895, Carbine's descendents include 8 of the 9 horses to ever win more than $10 million.  From 1914-1978, half of the Melbourne Cup winners descended from Carbine and in the US, both Mine That Bird and Rachel Alexandra can trace back to him.

The Tetrarch

The Tetrarch:  An undefeated, white-spotted grey called "The Spotted Wonder," was named Britain's top 2-year-old of the 20th century.  An injury ended his racing career at 2, but he was Britain's Leading Sire in 1919.  His most important progeny was a mare named Mumtaz Mahal, called "The Flying Filly," who became one of the top broodmares of the 20th century. 

Gainsborough:  He won the English Triple Crown in 1918, he was the Leading Sire in Great Britain and Ireland from 1932-1933.  He left a legacy of conformation and stamina behind.

Cor de la Bryere

Dark Ronald:  Yes, that is his real name.  His sire was Bay Ronald; the owners were apparently not very inspired.  This stud stands at the roots of the modern show jumper.  He was purchased in Great Britain by the German National Stud in 1913 and his blood has produced horses such as Landgraf I, Cor de la Bryere, Furioso II, and Ladykiller xx.

Teddy:  Another founder of today's showjumpers and one of the most influential sires of the 20th century, Teddy was a French horse that raced in Spain and France in the mid-teens of the 20th century.  He won 6 of 8 races and was the Leading Sire of 1923.  Imported the US in 1931, he sired 65 stakes winners.

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A Stork Came To My Barn This Morning

He was delivering red thoroughbreds.  SURPRISE!!!

Yes, the best picture I have so far is a crappy one I took with the farmhouse growing out of his back.  He minored in architecture...

Ok, jokes aside, THIS IS MY NEW PONY!!!

What?? How??? Ehhhh??? You ask -- rightfully so.  My amazing, wonderful mum stepped forward during my abysmal grief over Solo's lingering injury & offered to help find a Solo-understudy.  Yes, I do know how awesome she is.

I started poking around, rifled through my backfiles of all the fantasy shopping I had done over at CANTER's website & snuck down to Southern Pines last weekend to meet this guy.

Crucial Stats:
6 year old Thoroughbred gelding by an AP Indy stallion named Crowd Pleaser, out of an Allen's Prospect mare.   He's about 16.1ish feeling to me right now, might gain another inch with groceries & fitness.

At present he is barefoot & very athletic, despite his pinfire scars from the track.  He ran about 26 races, breaking his maiden at Pimlico as a 3 year old & finished his career at Delaware Park, retiring sound after winning his owners about $80,000. 

His Jockey Club name is Joyous Jester, however, that just doesn't do anything for me, so he is now wearing his new moniker:  Away Again.  In the barn, we'll call him Encore, a tip of the hat to his sire (who has a race at Delaware Park named after him!), as well as to his role in following in the giant hoofprints of the one & only Solo.

Crucial-To-Me Stats:
He is quiet, impeccably mannered, kind, honest, & brave.  Hacks out on a loose rein with a lovely, marching walk & hops over Novice sized logs without batting an eye.  He has jumped all of 3 times so far & is very green but has a heart of gold.  AND HE HAS A FORELOCK.  Don't tell Solo, he might get jealous.

He was picked up from Delaware Park in December of 2010 by Jessica Morthole up at CANTER's Delaware Branch.  He was tired & ready to be done with the racing game & his trainers were kind enough to donate him into a retraining pipeline before he was run into the ground.  He quickly found his way down to NC, where Allie Conrad & Suzanne Konefal did a FANTASTIC job turning his mind & body towards a new career.  He is gaining weight after a hard post-track crash & he is muscling up in all the right places. 

I have to sign off for the moment -- I am now going to run laps of my living room yelling "PONYPONYPONYPONYPONYPONYPONYPONY!!!!!!!"

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This Is How We Roll: Girths

Everyone needs a little something to hold the saddle on. But with 1,001 choices out there, how to decide which will suit your needs best?

My priorities: AFFORDABLE -- I don't need a dang $300 strap that no one can see that will just get covered in hair, sweat, and mud. Comfortable for the horse -- no chafing, slipping, etc. Easy to care for -- I have enough stuff to clean and keep track of, please make my life easier.  Must have roller buckles -- I think this is standard on all but the cheapest girths now, but billet protection is necessary!

Over the past few years, I have discovered the magic of the synthetic girth -- breathable and after your ride, give it a quick hose and it's dry in 15 minutes. LOVE!

My favourite: SmartPak Breathable Hunter/Jumper Girth. At $40, it won't break your bank. It does not tell you the colour in the product description (I took my chances when I ordered) but it's a nice havana brown and the waffle material feels good. The elastic on mine is actually all brown, so it looks quite nice and so far, after over a year of hard work, it still looks new.  When I pulled it out of the box, I really was surprised at the heft and quality feel and look of it, leather snobs need not feel cheated.

I have a similar one for my dressage saddle. I believe it's the Ovation girth, similar waffle weave fabric to the SmartPak one. It's not quite as nice as SmartPak's, but it's certainly not bad and is still durable and comfortable for Solo. Another great bargain at $31.  The stiching pulled out on the middle of the billet loops at the top, but they are not really essential, so I don't worry about it.  The rest of the girth is completely intact, I've had it for probably three years and it has climbed mountains, bogged down in mud, and sweated with the best of us.

I do generally use a leather one for stadium jumping, just because it's pretty (hey, we're all shallow on occasion). I save it for shows mostly as I try to minimize leather cleaning and I got it on a crazy clearance sale and want it to last a long time! It's Dover's overlay girth (no way did I pay even close to $100 for it though!). I think my elastic is green (why are elastic colours so subject to change?).  In all honesty though, I think my synthetic one is lighter and more comfortable for Solo and use it for all jump schooling and XC.

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Tying Up Loose Ends

Just a few updates and teasers!

(1) Ecogold is still completely awesome. I decided my magical pad really was too big for my saddles and for Solo, so I contacted the company and asked what the dimensions were on the standard size (I had ordered the XL). John Da Silva wrote me back and said, "Well, why don't we just make you one that's exactly the size you want?" I was flabbergasted, to say the least! I sent my dimensions, they spun up the machines, and voila! Now I have perfectly fitting custom sized magical pad! Very very cool.

(2) On a less exciting note, Solo's back is not feeling much better. His muscles feel smooth and knot-free, but he is very sore in his lumbar area, so I have reduced riding dramatically. I have a call in to Dr. Bob to discuss several things, but we will probably just have to let time take its course.

(3) On a more exciting note, I will have an introduction to a new character coming up soon. I will not give any hints, you will just have to wait and see. I can say, thank goodness, it's not another cat.

(4) I also have several product reviews filed in my brain for soon-publishing. Need to replace that girth with saggy elastic? Looking for durable, customizable, inexpensive bell boots? Well, stay tuned!

Thank you again for all your kind support for Solo and I -- while it's sad to watch his hind end muscles fade (So. Much. Work.), he seems shiny and happy wandering about the grass, so I'll take that for now.

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Remembering To Be Lucky

It is hard not to let the heartbreak take over.  Solo does not feel good, despite my plea with him to make the hock injections magically fix everything, despite what logic says. 

I almost cried riding him tonight; I have finally gotten him where I want him. He is trained. As long as I stay in a long frame, he can do a lovely, round 20 m circle with consistent bend on a steady, round contact. Down the long side, he steps easily into shoulder-in which we can then shift immediately into a strong leg yield. Back to a cadenced sitting trot on the short side, then springing out into a bright extended trot, flipping his front feet out (extended gaits are his favourite).

His canter is balanced & he can stretch down & still hold a metronome of a rhythm. I can create & change strides to a jump or pole, jump at angles, & make balanced, focused turns.

And the second I try to shorten his neck & really engage his back, I can feel him go, "Sorry, mom, but that part is very sore." No more A game.

But I am still lucky.

I am lucky that I can walk into the barn & wrap my arms around his muscular orange neck, inhaling that beautiful scent that is his alone.

I am lucky that I can lean against his shoulder while he rests his nose on my thigh & I can feel the energy, the bond between us in that quiet moment.

I am lucky that I can still ride him, albeit lightly, but we can still explore some trails & we can still canter through the last, most beautiful day of August.

I am lucky that we can still hop over a few jumps; they are small, but they still make Solo's ears prick & lock on as he gets taller and brighter with happiness.

I am lucky that I have a great circle of supportive people in my little horse world, especially a fantastic mom who is always a million percent supportive whenever we need help, no matter what.

I am lucky that I ever met Solo & all his untapped energy & heart which were just waiting for someone to open the door.

I am lucky that we will get a tomorrow, even though it may not be the one I expected or planned or wanted. It will still be another day to cherish the inexplicable, indescribable relationship which has changed my life & has come to define what my center really is.

That, my friends, is lucky indeed.

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Soggy And Somnolent

It's a rainy day as Irene hugs the NC coast on her way north. Good for over-thinking, exaggerating, despondency, rallying, napping, and compulsive eating.

I want to say thank you to all of you who took the time to say a kind word. To say it is meaningful is cliche, but no less true. My job exists because of the crimes all people commit in the name of selfishness, greed and laziness, so human kindness always catches me by surprise.

Solo will do what Solo will do, as always. Anyone who knows me knows that I will move heaven and earth for him. I would sell everything I had (all $14 worth!) if it would make him better (it won't) and I certainly will never give up on him. He has given me immeasurable gifts, awed me with his heart, and taught me a lifetime's worth of wry wisdom. Special, unique, they don't do him justice, and I have known a lot of horses. So, hell or high water (hmmm, both in existence today!), I will see him through and we will not be lessened or defeated or cowed in the face of it.

With that battle cry out of the way...

Having spent the last, long several days chasing fish in the rocky shallows of a piedmont river, I have not yet had a chance to visit the farm and check on things. I am sure Solo has been happily partaking in his daily pond swims, where, submerged up to his eyeballs, he has perfected his hippo impression.

Meanwhile, my front yard is perfecting its riverine impression and I think I hear some chocolate calling my name. Stay safe, stay dry, and give all the ponies a hug.

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In Which Dr. Bob Breaks My Heart

Someone once said to me, "Treasure every ride, every run, because you never know when it might be your last one."

And I always have, because if I have learned one thing about horses and about eventing, it is that the sucker punch is inevitable.

I took Solo in to Dr. Bob on Tuesday for his fall hock injections, but I also wanted his back investigated some more. He has been doing relatively well until about two weeks ago, when suddenly the soreness escalated to the point where on some days, he wouldn't let me pick up one of his hind legs. Concerned, I was.

Dr. Bob poked, Solo protested. Dr. Bob said, "Hmmmmm...." and stared thoughtfully. My blood pressure turns into a geyser when Dr. Bob is stumped. Dr. Bob is never stumped.

He proffered several possibilities, each of which was tough to diagnose. He talked about xrays where they hang the horse by his back feet from the ceiling after cashing your $2000 check. I heard the words "ossification," "restriction of vertebral movement," and "then he could only jump crossrails." I think my brain shut down at about that point. :Please stop telling me about impossible things," I begged. I am sure he could read the yawning chasm in my soul quite plainly on my face.

This is the best I can gather - best case scenario, since I have worked out most of the knots in the injured muscle, the whole hip area is very loose and the muscle has to rebuild itself and will do so. However, in the worst case scenario, the body will attempt to stabilize that area by laying down bone around the vertebrae, at which point mobility goes away. Which means Solo's career would be over.

All I can think is that had I simply listened to my gut reaction and scratched that Sunday morning in Virginia, none of this would be on the table. One small wrong decision can bring that house of cards crumbling down around your ears when you least expect it.

For most people in this sport, they could simply pick up a prospect and let the healing take its time. I can't seem to figure out a way to make the money magically happen though, so I am just as stuck as Solo is, everything on hold while his body decides what to do. That event in October I've been looking forward to all year? Probably not going to happen. Fall season? Not looking good. Spring season? Oh, if there are any universal powers out there, please let good things happen.

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Little Red Rearing Hood, Pt II

Disclaimer Again: I am not, nor have I ever claimed to a professional anything (except maybe Professional Dispenser Of Sarcasm). Horse training is not for the inexperienced, faint of heart, quick of temper, or slow of reflex. Be safe, ask for help, and BE SAFE!

He leapt and spun and dug in to a scrambling gallop. I called him a not very nice name that started with a b-a-s and ended with a t-a-r-d, but otherwise, remained impassive, holding the end of the lead and letting him tear around his melodramatic circle. When he began to slow, I lifted the end of the whip slightly and asked him to continue, which propelled him into a new frenzy of drama.

When I was ready, I asked him to stop, an opportunity, he gladly seized, licking his lips and begging forgiveness. I patted his head and we turned to the trailer again. He assumed his position on the ramp again. I prepared to ask him for another step again. I was presented with a view of his front ankles again.

So he found himself on the circle after he was done twisting and bucking away.

"You're doing this to yourself, you know," I informed him as he scrambled madly around me. I was not chasing him with whip or rope. I kept my body quiet and still, simply following his circle. He knew what I wanted. He simply didn't want to do it and was using all the tricks he knew to end the dance.

We repeated this a few times. It was hot and he quickly worked up a heavy sweat. I stayed quiet and kept the directions clear: you can walk nicely into the trailer and hang out in the shade or you can stay out here and work in circles and be hot and unhappy.

I'm not usually a proponent of the circling thing. I'd rather use a tap as a forward cue and a simple pressure and release approach. But to tap, you must be able to touch the horse with the whip. Which you cannot do if he is standing all hi-ho-Silver at skull level. You could touch him, tap him, with the whip all day long anywhere else, but on the trailer ramp, abandon hope all ye who enter.

So we circled. And we approached the trailer again. And he stood up again. As I looked up at him, I saw pinned ears, flat against his head, and I saw his anger as he turned his head and glared down at me. I had called his bluff and he was pissed.

We circled some more and stopped again. He was hot. I was hot. A fit young TB, he could probably keep it up all day, but I did not want to push him into a black rage OR heat stress.  I never hit him, I never hurt him, I never chased him, but his penchant for drama might write checks that neither of our bodies could cash.

"Take him for a walk for a few minutes, let him have a mental break." I handed his lead to his owner and sat down to nurse a drink and ponder.

I knew he knew what I wanted. And I knew he knew I knew he knew. I also knew he had not yet conceded that apes should get full respect; that was a much longer, deeper project. He was an intriguing mental puzzle, one I longed to unravel. He was not dangerous in that he would intentionally hurt you -- had he wanted that, I would have been finished 30 minutes ago. He would just rather not toe the line unless you made him. But it was not a physical battle (we'll always lose those in the end), it was a mental one, which is what made it so interesting.

He and his owner came wandering back. "Ok," I said, "put him on the trailer."

She walked him to the ramp. He stepped on, hesitated for about five seconds, then sighed and walked in. In the shade, they stopped and he licked his lips and lowered his head. Lots of pats and finally, a rest. After that, he proceeded to unload and load a few times, then we were done.

Over the past week, he has continued to march on readily. When the rope halter goes on, his body language changes and he becomes alert and obedient. I would love to keep working with him, but he is not my horse, so I must respect those boundaries. But I think he got the message, at least for the time being. Will it stick? I hope so, but I feel certain he will need reminders, although they will undoubtedly be far easier than the first drawing-of-lines-in-the-sand.

Sweet though he is, he is smart, fit, energetic, young, red, and easily distracted. A challenge for anyone. His owner is an excellent rider and an experienced horse owner, strong and intelligent, just a little out of practice on the groundwork. Her horse, as all of ours attempt to do (and often succeed!) has found a few small openings in her armour and made the most of them. Fortunately, he will soon be hopefully back on course and continue on his way to becoming a well-trained, mannerly eventer.

He is lucky enough to have an owner who understands the bad manners lead to other problems, that eventual caving in to bribery does not equal trained horse, that you must have the body AND the mind to succeed.  Because of this, he will get to lead the happy, well-adjusted life of a horse who is obedient and safe.  And his owner will get to enjoy her horse with a little less frustration every day.

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Little Red Rearing Hood, Pt. I

Disclaimer: I am not, nor have I ever claimed to a professional anything (except maybe Professional Dispenser Of Sarcasm). Horse training is not for the inexperienced, faint of heart, quick of temper, or slow of reflex. Be safe, ask for help, and BE SAFE!

I watched as she tried to load her horse on the trailer.  He stepped willingly enough onto the ramp until his back toes met the edge.  There he stopped, craning his neck inside, but refusing to move his hind feet to any point of committment.  She coaxed and tugged and bribed and begged, he looked around, pointedly ignoring her requests in a show of subtle defiance.

After 45 minutes of this, he gave in and wandered into the rig with a sigh. His handler fumed with the frustrated fury any of us have felt when thwarted at that critical loading moment.

"I need help," she told me.

"I hope I have some to give," I answered.

And so it began.

"You don't have a trailer problem," I said. "You have a leading problem and you have a respect problem. He is not afraid, he just doesn't feel like cooperating on any terms other than his own, if he can help it. He IS a redhead."

We talked about leading, about controlling the horse's feet, about never letting those feet stop. The key to trailer loading is a reliable forward cue and a commitment to seeing it through, as well as NEVER EVER EVER losing your temper.

"Ok," I started, "Give it a go and make sure, whatever happens, he is not allowed to stand still. If he backs up, let him go back without pressure, but as soon as he stops, move him forward again."

I was interested to see how he would respond -- not only was he a bit cocky, he was also on the sensitive and dramatic side. Much like Solo, he could NOT be forced into things unless you fancied yourself trampled into a human pulp.

He wore a rope halter and a head bumper, just in case. They practiced some leading away from the trailer -- she was confident and strong as always, he was obedient, but distracted.

Approaching the trailer, he quickly got wind of the plan and in an effortless shift, pushed her in a veering line off the left side of the ramp with his chest and shoulder. She turned him and came again and the second time, he was even faster in his re-direction.

After watching four or five times, it was clear he had little regard for the pink apes at the other end of his lead rope. He has never been a mean thing, in fact, he is very sweet-natured and gregarious. But like any kid whose boundaries have not always been clear, he knew how to take an opening when he saw one.

"Do you mind if I take him for a second?" I wondered how he would respond to a different-smelling ape.

"Oh dear god, please do!" She practically threw the lead rope at me.

Here we go, I thought.

I began by asking him to yield his hindquarters to my touch in both directions. Ok, good. Now lower your poll. Ok, not great, but passable. Ok, now move in a circle around me. Oh dear.

"Kindly move in a circle, please" was apparently translated by this equine brain as "race around at a speed trot bouncing off the end of the line." His head was cocked pointedly to the outside of the circle, most certainly not giving me the time of day.

We continued to circle until he began watching me and flicking an ear in my direction. My heart wept for our property's lack of a round pen. But you make do. We stopped and started and reversed and repeated until he was willing to walk the circle with considerably less frenetic energy.

Ok, let's walk to trailer. We get to the ramp and he assumes the position -- front feet firmly at threshold of door, back stretched out and hind toes against the base of the ramp. I have his lead softly in my left hand and dressage whip in my right. I begin to lift my right wrist to gently touch his haunch with my whip.

Did I blink? Because suddenly, he is standing on his hind legs, his front hooves dangling at my eye level. For the first time in my life, I find myself wishing I had put on a helmet. For groundwork. 

To be continued...

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Quiet As A Mouse, Still As A Rock

We always used to play that game with our babysitting charges when we were younger, trying to get them to stop moving and shut up, even for a short period of time.

It seems it is also a key to riding, or rather jumping in particular, that I stumbled on this weekend.

Solo and I had a nice little jump school, with some gymnastics and small single fences set up.  As I finished and dropped my stirrups to cool down my horse, I realized something:  the key to jumping well is just staying the heck out of the way.  Which sounds a lot easier than it is.

It's all about establishing your rhythm and balance and then allow the horse to work.  Point him at your fence and then wrap your legs around him and JUST SIT THERE.

What usually happens?  We fuss about our two point, omg is the angle right, omg is my heel down, omg.  We fuss about the horse's head, we fuss about the reins, we fuss about strides and distances.  And we get in the dang way.

Just stop.  None of that matters.  If you find a steady rhythm with your horse balanced and forward and you are over his center of gravity with your butt out of the saddle and soft hips and knees to absorb the motion and you stay out of his face, you'll get a good jump.  Of course, there are a lot of details involved here, but I'm talking about the essence of the thing.

Try it.  Prove me wrong.  Or better yet, prove me right.

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