One Month Of Bending Does Not A Dressage Horse Make

Let me clarify my ambivalence

Or how about "My Horse Is A Doofus."  Or “The Near Explosion of My Head & Subsequent Murder of My Horse (But I Love Him, I Swear!)”  Yeah, that one’s a bit too long.

[Warning, if the following was on television, there would be a lot of bleeping.]

For some idiotic reason, I decide to enter Solo in a dressage show in mid-April of '09.  Two tests, Beginner Novice A & B.  We'd been doing great at home, lots of work on suppling & transitions, he's going much softer & listening well.  For like a whole 30 days!  No problem, right?

Bloody #$#%@! horse rider.

Arrival & Omens

Our ride time is 8:42 am, so I get on about 8:20 & proceed to warmup.  Little Steward Girl (LSG) informs me that I ride next. My head explodes & I stare at her with the bloody stump that remains. Huh?!  She says "oh, but you don't HAVE to go, we just started early.  Ummm, then I'll warm up first thanks, ok?  LSG says sure.

Speed Warmup & Execution

Things seem to be fine:  Solo's looking around, but moving ok, so we head into the 'on-deck' spot at A. He immediately goes all tense, ignoring all my aids.  I do my best to use circles to get him bending again.  The judge whistles us in.  

Probably a little like this lovely moment in '08...

As we begin our test, all semblance of order vanishes & Solo reverts to gaping-mouthed, iron-necked giraffe.  My hypothesis is that he believed the little tiny white dressage arena fence was some kind of horrifying little jump & he had no idea what to do with it.

Oh, & the photographer at M was also apparently bent on evil.

The Test In My Mind:

"You bloody @#$#!! horse, slow down and relax, #%&*! Bend, dammit, bend!! I really really hate you right now."

 [I interject at this point to share, by the way, clamping down & mumbling curses at your horse STILL does not cause them to either slow down OR relax. You know, just in case we don't have enough data on that one.]

Can't you just see the devil lying in wait?

The Test In Solo's Mind

"OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! OMG, TROLLS IN A BOX ON THE END OF THE RING! OMG, CREEPY LADY WITH A BOX ON A STICK! OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! Oh, there appears to be some insect on my back telling me to turn rather than run right into OMG, TINY WHITE FENCES! AHHH, I WILL THROW MY BODY TO THE RIGHT AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND!"

Yes, it was, I'm sure, poetry in motion.  *rolling eyes*

It seemed easier in 1990

No Worries, We Get To Do It Again!

Back to warmup.  I put Solo in trot figure 8's hoping to soften him & get him to relax more before test B.  DEAR COD, PLEASE LET THERE BE MERCY!  Did I mention I don't so much enjoy dressage these days?   I was praying for a jump course, praying.

I love the discipline, but dang, why was it so easy when I was 12?  Oh yeah, I rode trained horses...and 12-year-olds haven't learned to overthink breathing.  Who knew it could be so hard to teach a horse to trot & canter in a circle...calmly.  Even with terrifying tiny white fences.

Test B

We enter the ring.  Much more acceptably.  Yet in a Moment of Universal Horror, as we made the turn off centreline, I become that person at shows I always pity but generally never am:   She Who Goes Off-Course.  AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Well, what I actually said to the judge, with my typical grace & forethought, was, "OH SH!T!  I mean, uh, sorry, uh, can we have a Do-Over?"  There was mercy:  the judge had a sense of humour.  Her laughter was kind while she replied, "Sure!"

It wasn't great, but Solo was mostly listening, though still fussing with his head & insisting on a counterbent method of travel in which his nose is sideways.  Apparently he must keep an eye on that Tiny White Fence.  We complete.  I am happier.  BUT OUR SCORE IS WORSE.   

I'd have preferred THIS Solo to show up!

We Did "Win" Ribbons...In A Manner Of Speaking

We ended up 2nd for test A -- by default the organizer helpfully tells me (ouch!).   I don't know what happened, everyone else must either have not shown up or had their horses leap out of the ring & galloped away.  They were pretty ribbons....the kind judge gave us a 41 & was even nice enough not to laugh or gasp in horror (audibly).

4th for test B with a 49.  Out of four!  *insert 'We Are The Champions' chorus*  Most of the judges' comments were as expected for Stiff Crooked Bad Horse Rider.   One collective mark read "must sit the canter."  Hmmm, I felt certain that by age 30, I might have mastered that one?  Alas...

The Adult Solution

I decided to go eat brownies & sulk.  Perhaps I should take up competitive trail riding -- you don't have to bend OR go in circles for that!

Perfect illustration of dressage by blog.theblakewright.com

Categories: dressage, history, humour, show, Solo competition