SFH

Not familiar with that acronym? Well, it is what I own: a Stupid F*cking Horse.

Just in case you thought life with Solo was all sunshine and rainbows, I am here to reassure you that that is certainly NOT the case.

Sunday, we had a brilliant cross country school. We did our first ever true sunken road: a 3' log in, two strides, drop off bank, two strides, up bank, two strides, jump log out. We also schooled our first prelim-type of water question which ended with an up bank out of the water and one stride to a big log. Solo didn't get it at first: what the why is this log so close to the edge and what am I supposed to do about it? But we worked it out and he got it.

A decent dressage school last night, although Mr. Fussy Pants was in fine form. He did give me some really lovely uphill, slow, cadenced canter work that made me giggle with happiness.

Then tonight. SFH. My goal was to do a single run-through of our test for Saturday, which is Novice Test B (I HATE Test B). Instead, I got SFH hanging on the left rein, fighting me at every bend, chomping at the bit, cocking his head, and generally being a fury-inducing beast.

It wasn't pretty.

Some of it may well be due to what appears to be a continuous change in saddle fit (let me fully express my saddle fit rage sometime), but really, it is NOT dramatic enough to merit all out rebellion.

SFH is lucky that I am at least courteous enough to release my fury in a series of exclamations that would make children's ears melt off, but I do not, say, beat my horse. I try to keep my aids steady even though I am not speaking very nicely at all.

Oh well, he doesn't speak English.

I am sure he will redeem himself at some point, but for now, I will pout.

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Tranformation To Real Event Horse: 95% Complete

Protective body armour for rider: Check

Air-cooled, carbon-fiber-lined tendon protection for horse: Check

Colour-coordinated cross country outfits: Check

Helmet cam: Check

Ability to leap ditches in a single bound: Check

USEA member cards for horse AND rider: Check

Two trainer, two saddles, two bridles, two girths, two shirts, two...: Check

And now...

Why yes, now that you ask, that IS a perfectly organized stud kit.  In a blue box.  With blue duct tape for holding boot straps in place.  And a blue hoofpick.

Solo gets drilled and tapped behind on his next visit from Johnathan the Wonder Farrier in early May. I have decided to make the commitment since I already know that VA in May can equal wet grass on very hilly terrain. With the added challenge of the move-up to Training Level, I want Solo to have as many tools as I can give him. I'm not drilling the front shoes; I do not want to do anything that slows down his front feet even a tiny bit while jumping or galloping. The last thing we need is a blown tendon or cut up pastern.

I have a lot to learn about studs but I've been reading till my eyes cross. But I'll save that for another post...

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Thank You

I wanted to express my deepest gratitude for each of your comments and emails regarding Smokey.  The thoughtfulness and compassion that I have observed has taken me quite by surprise and my appreciation is immeasurable.

Smokey was a very special girl who touched an uncountable number of lives with her always-dry nose. It tore me in two to drive home from the farm with an empty truck, leaving her behind, which she always hated the most. But I see her everywhere I go and feel her huge presence in everything I do. All I can do is hope that she is enjoying her rest in the shade overlooking the spring grass and a serenade of chorus frogs.

As for Solo, he is relishing newly sprouting Bermuda grass during a few days off following his hock injections. We'll hack out on Saturday if the storms hold off and then it's down to Southern Pines for a big cross country school with David on Sunday.

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On Saying Goodbye

The hardest part about enriching our lives with animals lies in the fact that they have shorter lifespans then we do.  Perhaps it is because they love so fiercely and live so openly -- a brighter fire burns more fuel.  The end result is that they break off a little piece of our heart when they go.

I am writing this today because I won't be able to do it on Wednesday.  When Dr. Bob comes and lays Smokey to rest for me.  The kindest dog I ever met deserves a tribute after sixteen and a half years of unabated love and companionship.

So this is for you, big girl, because your brown eyes will always be with me.

You have been the longest relationship of my life. When I first met you, I was a gangly sixteen. You were a timid, nondescript pound puppy who became fast friends with our bold Eskimo-cross, Sasha. You two were inseparable, so naturally, you joined her as my 4-H training project.  A little bit Shepherd, a little bit Collie, and very quickly, a big piece of my heart.

Remember when we used to get to obedience class at the county fairgrounds early and we would lie in the summer grass next to the lake? I would show you the most interesting clouds and you'd keep an eye out for squirrels.

Remember when we would visit the creek by the house and you loved it so much, you would take a galloping leap off the bank so you could relish the cool splash of the belly flop?

Remember when you and Sasha would pick some poor, unsuspecting squirrel and stalk and tag-team him each time he dared come to the ground? You two even scored a squirrel tail one time...

Remember when we would go hiking around the lake and you would catch a glimpse of a deer through the woods? You would bound into the air like your legs were on springs, Collie-flop ears all a-perk and nose working overtime with enthusiasm.

Remember when we would sled in the fresh snow behind the house and you would dash alongside our saucers, nipping at snowsuit legs and always trying to figure out where snowballs went when they hit the ground?

Remember your nemesis, the box turtle? How did he just become a seamless rock? How dare he disappear like that? You were determined to bark him out.

Remember later, when you came to join me in graduate school.  Sasha had died and you were lost in deep mourning without her.  I was 24 and you staunchly guarded my apartment against all comers, friend or foe. You rode in the creaky old elevator of the biology building, keeping a suspicious eye on the numbers, so you could visit me at work and find a new lease on life. Oh yeah, and those squirrels...

Remember long swims in Carolina lakes alongside the canoe? It always seemed to make your shoulder arthritis vanish and I saw the puppy again when you came leaping out of the water.

Remember cold nights, curled up on the couch? Your fur always kept my feet warm and your thick ruff made a welcome pillow for hugs and tears alike.

You were always there for me, always in the doorway. Always with a watchful eye on me and an ear cocked in my direction. Complete devotion, loyalty, and gentleness. You knew how to work a campfire, extracting maximum bellyrubs from all parties. You were an excellent boater, camper, hiker, traveler, and friend.

I have been proud to know you and proud to love you and you have never let me down. I can only hope that I can take the gifts and lessons of love you have given me and pass them on to others in need.

Your heart is still strong, despite your tired body. No doubt it always will be. You are free to go. You don't have to search me out anymore. You don't have to protect me anymore. You can just lie the shade of the farm trees and rest for as long as you want in the grass that you love to roll in.

But I will miss you always.

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Time To Be Jealous Of The Contest Winners

That's right, the results are in from our bumper sticker drawing!

Each commenter's name was carefully cut out and placed in the official Bucket O' Possibilities. I explained the rules to Solo (no peeking and no swallowing!) and then lifeshighway presented him with the Bucket.

Solo took on his official duties with great focus and commitment.  Lifeshighway also made sure to close her eyes so as not to unfairly influence the outcome.

After I finished fishing slips of paper out of a mouthful of horse slobber, we discovered our winners!

Congratulations to Braffie of The Embarcadero, molly, and sumaclab!  Apparently Braffie had the tastiest one, sorry about the spit soaking...

Should you wish to claim your sticker, you need to email me at the address on the right so I know where to send it.  As a winner, I fully expect you to supply me with a picture of the sticker stuck to something cool (foreheads and horse butts count)!

Should you decide there just isn't room in your life for a sticker this fabulous, please contact me and let me know and I can save it for a later contest or do a redraw.

Thank you so much to all of you who participated; I am, in all honesty, shocked and delighted that you entered and that you share a part of your day with Solo and me. Solo implored me to let him choose more, as he shamelessly loves all of his internet friends.

Up next...I'll give you a hint: (1) helmet cam + (2) today's trail of choice.

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