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The Hot Mess Express was running pretty much 24/7 last week. The last Henry update you got was last Wednesday, where I recapped his series of calamities that kept us from actually properly prepping for the show. As of last Wednesday he had pulled a shoe, garnering himself 2 days off, but the farrier came and put it back on. I went ahead and asked him to just redo him, since we were almost at 5 weeks anyway, but he didn’t have his drill press with him that day, so he just tacked the missing shoe back on and came out the next morning to do a complete reset.

That was Thursday.

I get to the barn Thursday afternoon, ready to FINALLY fit a ride in. I went out and set up a few jumps in the field, since it had been, oh ya know, a month since we last jumped. I won’t even tell you how long it had been since we last jumped a course (coughtheJunehorsetrialcough). I set up our little warmup boxes, a 3’3″ vertical, and a 3’6″ oxer. We had a nice stretchy trot warmup, then went for a quick little canter, popped over the jumps a few times, and called it done. He actually felt super, especially considering how long it had been.

And then we went for a walk.

And then he tripped and did this.

Can’t even make this shit up, y’all. He had about 4 hours in these new shoes before he decided he was done with the four-shoe lifestyle. Hasn’t pulled a shoe in a year and now he’d managed two in a week.

I knew my farrier wasn’t going to be very happy with Henry, considering the guy had already been out two days in a row for my ridiculous horse. Turns out it didn’t really matter how he felt, because he had left my barn and gone to Houston to shoe horses for a couple days. No way he’d be back in time to tack Henry’s shoe back on (again). So Trainer confirmed that there would be a show farrier, and I just figured no big deal, I’ll get it tacked on tomorrow when we get to the show.

LOL.

On Friday I worked a half day, got to the barn around 11:30 to load all my crap, and we were on the road by noon. We made good time and rolled in before 2, I got a nice parking spot in the trees so that my tent was in the shade, got Henry’s stall all set up, checked in at the office, and proceeded trying to find the farrier. Someone told me that his son was showing, suggesting I check his stall and see if they were there yet. A little bit of creepy stalking later, I located the stall, but nope – not there yet. No big deal, I’ll just go hang out and wait.

I spent the next 6 hours checking that stall every 20 friggin minutes. By 7 it was obvious that I wasn’t going to get to ride that day, and I really didn’t even want to take Henry out and walk him around since he’s such a baby when he’s barefoot. Getting a bruise the day before dressage wouldn’t be good. We were not exactly off to the start I wanted for the show, not getting to ride him or even get him out of his stall. And with an 8:50 dressage time in the morning, I was starting to get nervous. Really nervous. What happens if the farrier doesn’t show up in time?

I watched my horse looking more and more wild in his stall before I finally did the only thing I could do: go to bed.

This is all important back story before we actually get to the dressage recap. The drama continues tomorrow…

This horse, y’all. He is in So. Much. Trouble.

First of all, I swear he smiled awfully damn smugly when Hurricane Harvey turned toward Houston. It cancelled our grand plan of Henry going down and spending a week with Trainer while I was in Europe… something that would have been really helpful for everyone. But no, instead he spent several days before I left, and the entire time I was gone, standing in his stall getting fatter. Two weeks off total. Well played, Henry. I don’t know how you conjured a hurricane, but it sure did have your signature.

Then I got home from Europe, hacked him once, and showed up the next day to find his big ol’ “I ATE A BEE” elephantitis head. Again, he seemed awfully damn smug as I put all my tack away and wrote a check to the vet instead. Three more days off.

On Monday the swelling was finally pretty much gone, so I tossed all my jump tack on and went out in the field. A 20 minute hack went off without a hitch, so I popped him over a few little jumps. A grand total of 5 fences in and he tripped and came up missing a shoe. And of course, farrier couldn’t make it out until sometime today, and let me tell you who cannot be ridden without a shoe because omg his footie. Two more days off.

I can’t even make this shit up. WTF horse.

This would be much less annoying if we didn’t have a show this weekend. Our first recognized in over a year, and our first recognized Training. Henry appears to be doing his best to get to the show without having been properly ridden in 3 weeks. The good news is that I’ve given up in advance on actually doing well, and now the focus has shifted to just finishing in one piece. Nice dressage? HA. Clear stadium? LOL. Let’s just focus on not dying, how bout that?

 

Trainer is bringing a rosary and some holy water, so maybe it’ll be fine?

It’s officially the last post about our trip, so don’t worry, you’re at the end. There was A LOT that happened that I never did end up covering in the blog posts (mostly because the mobile version of WordPress SUCKS) so I figured I could hit some of the high points here.

4: countries visited – France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Germany.

174: kilometers per hour, our top speed on a German highway in our rented Peugeot (which was basically just a hopped up lawnmower), or about 106mph according to Google. It was exhilarating in that super terrifying “omg is the Peugeot actually airborne right now?” kind of way.

2200: kilometers traveled by car, or a bit over 1,200 miles.

8600: miles traveled by air

1: how many times we got the middle finger amid all those miles. It was from a Frenchman that drove like a douche canoe, everyone act surprised.

5: how many times we drove back and forth trying to find Emerald’s barn, since neither GPS knew whereTF it was and there was no sign or street number. You have to be an expert stalker to find that place (don’t worry, Michelle is, she whipped out the satellite view and started looking for arenas).

2: how many times we heard a very techno version of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” playing over the loudspeakers at Bucha. There was a lot of techno. And not at all censored rap. Kind of confusing.

2000: how many cows some Russian guy tried to sell us at the wine bar after he learned we were from Texas (I’m not joking or exaggerating on this one). The best part was that he only spoke Russian and a little bit of German, and I only speak English and a little bit of German, so it included a lot of pantomiming. Use your imagination.

1: hours it took for me to find, try on, and purchase my coveted brown Ego7’s at the trade fair on day one of Bucha. Look people, I don’t mess around.

2: how many Canadians literally thought I worked for a particular vendor because I really liked some reins and they happened to walk up when I was explaining to Michelle why they were so great. This is not the first time this has happened to me.

20%: how much of the German that I actually understood from the Italian guy in line behind us at Aldi. He was undeterred by my vacant nodding and just kept chattering away.

3: schnitzels consumed during our 3.5 days in Germany. By me anyway. Michelle accounts for another 3, so I guess make it 6.

2: number of Kinder Bueno’s purchased and consumed on road trips

6: number of times we said we should have bought more Kinder Bueno’s

9,983,837: number of roundabouts we went through along our 2200km journey (ok maybe this number is perhaps just slightly dramatized)

4: how many stop signs we saw during the ENTIRE trip. I’m not kidding, those people love their roundabouts and yields.

7: times that people grimaced when we said we were from Texas, and also the number of times we had to explain how far Austin and Midland are from Houston, thus why Hurricane Harvey didn’t really effect either of us.

1: how many horses we saw at Bucha that could have literally walked right into the hunter derby ring and won. It finished last in the eventing, obviously it needs a new career. Takers?

6: how many days in a row that I ate french fries and it was a totally valid life choice, stop judging me.

2: how many of my gears are still grinding. One over how amazing (and so important) their pony jumper riders and classes are, and why we can’t replicate that system here. One over the almost saddlebred tendencies of a couple of the young dressage horses, and why in the world we’re rewarding that in dressage.

I’ve been back from Europe for almost a week now. The original plan for Henry was to go to Trainer’s while I was gone, but of course Hurricane Harvey ruined that idea. Instead he got basically two full weeks off, which he didn’t seem to mind. When I got back he kind of looked at me like “Oh, it’s you… got any cookies?”.

Henry seemed to do just fine with the down time, other than the fact that he’s a bit fatter (omg horse, stahp, I can’t feed you much less) and it seems he was quite itchy while I was gone. I dunno what it’s been about this summer, but he’s been Mr Walking Allergy since May. The only thing that’s been able to keep him from rubbing all his hair out is my magic spray, which ran out while I was gone. Thus, I came home to this:

AGGGGHHH.

His face looked almost as bad, it’s just not quite so noticeable since it’s more spotty.

The very first thing he got on Wednesday (after a nice hack) was a very thorough bath, after which I covered his body in every elixir I could find to make him stop itching until my new bottle of magic spray arrived.

Then on Saturday I pulled him out of his stall to find this:

WTF with the elephant head, Henry? I took his temp, checked his respiratory rate, etc. All totally normal. He was acting normal, had eaten breakfast just like normal. Nothing about his routine had changed. He has a bit of a history with random swelling (last summer it was the sheath) so my first thought was some kind of allergic reaction. I texted pics and his vitals to the vet, who said he didn’t think it was an emergency but he wanted to come examine him just to make sure there wasn’t something bad brewing. In the meantime Henry got a little bit of banamine, and we settled in to wait for the vet.

And by “settled in”, I mean someone got a makeover. Fall season officially starts this weekend so it was time to make him look less feral. We started with dying his tail, and then I body clipped him. Yeah, it’s early for a first clip, and not much hair came off, but every little bit seems to help keep his fat ass cool, so I’ve just given in to the fact that I’m going to end up clipping him every 2-3 months by default.

The vet showed up, examined him, checked all his vitals again (still pretty much the same as when I checked them), felt around the edema, and then took a long look in his mouth. He had some irritation to his soft palate, and a kind of suspicious looking little red spot. The vet stood there going hmmm, and then looked at me and said “Honestly, it looks just like a bee sting, but…. inside his mouth…”. Who knows for sure, but if any horse could manage to eat a bee, it’d probably be Henry. He got some dex, the vet left me with a couple more days worth, and said if it’s not better by then to let him know.

Sunday morning it wasn’t much different, size wise, but the edema was definitely softer. On Saturday the pitting had been like memory foam… if you pushed your thumb into it, it took a while to spring back. On Sunday there was no pitting if you pressed it.

I texted the updated pics (and vitals – all still normal) to the vet and got the okay to at least take him on a long walk under saddle to stretch his legs. Someone is going stir crazy. He spent half of our walk jigging sideways and snorting, so I’m going to guess he feels just fine despite the elephantitis throat.

Afterwards I gave him another dose of dex and decided to ice the area. May not help, but it can’t hurt, right? Henry was pissed.

It looked a bit better last night, so I’m hoping by this afternoon it’s made some significant progress. I’m sure Henry thinks this is a swell way (ha, pun) to prolong his vacation, but it’d be cool if I could actually get some real rides in. Details…

It’s possible that I strongly considered just staying in Germany and becoming an illegal immigrant. I really felt at home there. The country is absolutely beautiful, the people were so welcoming, the food was awesome, and honestly there just wasn’t anything about it that I didn’t love. Despite the busy schedule, our time there was the most relaxing, most enjoyable, and most peaceful. I could have stayed for a lot longer in that little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

Alas, by the time Monday morning rolled around, it was time to start making our way back to Brussels toward the airport. We weren’t quite done with Fabulous Horse Stuff In Germany yet though, because thanks to a few pulled strings we were able to get an appointment at Schockemohle to see their stallions. The name might not mean much to non breeding geeks, but you may have heard of a few of the stallions they have… Sandro Hit, Balou du Rouet, Kannan, Diarado… just to name a few. Some of the best, most successful stallions in the world for both dressage and showjumping.

We got up early to make the drive north from Ostbevern to Muhlen, pulling into the stables around 9:15. One of the people in the breeding office (I wish I had taken more pictures of this farm, it was insane) took us around through the stallion barn, letting us get an up close and personal look at all of the stallions we were interested in. Yeah, I stood there patting Sandro freaking Hit on a run of the mill Monday morning. Surreal.

We made our way around and saw pretty much all the stallions that were at the farm at the time. Our main objective for the visit was to see Diarado (Michelle has 2 mares in foal to him) and Balou, both of whom were there. It’s funny… Diarado and Sandro Hit are probably two of the best producers in the world, but they’re also some of the most unassuming looking stallions we saw the whole time. Sandro Hit is very refined, to the point where he looks like a thoroughbred. There’s nothing about him outwardly that would indicate what a renowned sire he’s been, and his temperament is a bit “special”.

Diarado is absolutely beautiful, really one of the most perfectly put together horses I’ve seen, but smaller and more compact and more refined, not the big stereotypical “look at me” warmblood stallion presence that you often see. He almost had a bit of a pony-esque look to him.

He seemed pretty bored with us in general. His son Diatendro was in the stall next to him and I swear was a least a hand bigger and a lot wider. Goes to show that you can’t always judge a book (or a stallion) by it’s cover, because of all of the horses we saw go at Bucha all week, the Diarado offspring stood out to me head and shoulders above the rest. They varied a bit in size and type (although none were as small as he is) but they were all beautiful and they could all JUMP and they all seemed very sensible and rideable. He’s a fantastic and very consistent producer. I liked Diarado before, but I came home as a Diarado SUPERFAN.

After we were done meeting everyone at Schockemohle we were back in the car en route to Belgium. But instead of heading straight to Brussels to tuck into the hotel for our last night, we made a small detour by Euro Horse. What is Euro Horse? Oh ya know, just the home of Olympic stallion Emerald.

You guys know Presto’s BFF Liam, sired by Emerald, because you’ve seen him so much on this blog. Michelle is a huge Emerald fangirl (and rightfully so, really, the horse is incredible) and I thought for sure she might hyperventilate before we got there. His owners were SO incredibly nice and welcoming, and had one of the grooms pull Emerald out of his stall for us so we could give him some scratches and get a closer look at him.

If you want a horse with presence, Emerald has it in spades. He knows he’s handsome, and he knows he’s special. He’s big, he’s eyecatching, he walks with a swagger, and is just so captivating to look at. He’s also very cheeky, oozing character, and always waiting for the opportune moment to try to sneak in a little “love bite”. He stood outside behind the barn while we took pictures and talked about him, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. That is a pretty special horse right there. It’s also incredible just how similar he and Liam are.

Funnily enough, Emerald and Diarado are by the same sire, yet just about as polar opposite in type as two horses can be. Mare lines shining through, y’all.

After I peeled Michelle off of Emerald, we got back in the car and headed to Brussels. Even thought the horse part of our trip was now over, we still had one more night to be tourists, and we were gonna do it up proper. Our hotel room was literally IN the Grand Place, with our window opening out into it. You really can’t beat an iconic view like that. Once we’d gotten settled in and did some social media updates (thank you, glorious wifi) we went down the street to a restaurant to do some people watching while we had some drinks, frites, and a sausage and cheese plate. People-watching at the Grand Place is pretty great. Never seen so many selfies happening all at once in my life.

Once we were properly fed we wandered around the area a bit, taking in some sights and hitting up some of the super touristy yet still really amazing shops. Mostly chocolate ones, because when in Brussels. We grabbed a waffle with nutella to eat as we strolled, bought some souvenirs, and then finally called it a night. Unfortunately we had to be up early to get to the airport.

It was a quick trip, yet we managed to cram a whole lot of stuff in. We met so many great people, saw an endless supply of fantastic horses, got some serious education, and even had the opportunity to pat a few living legends. Not bad for a week. Yet even though we did so much, it feels like there was still a whole lot left to do and see. Until we meet again, Europe. ❤