Presto has been doing pretty well since his castration last week. He was confined to his stall for the first 20ish hours, and since then has been on pretty much 24/7 turnout except for mealtimes. His stall opens up into his pasture, so at night we’ve just been leaving the stall door open and he comes and goes as he chooses. Otherwise I’ve just been cold hosing and making him move around more everyday with either a pony or a 10 minute walk/trot lunge.

The first couple days he was WILD. Like I texted the vet and asked him to come back out and stitch those things back on, because I was pretty sure we accidentally cut off his brains. Okay, granted, “wild” for Presto really isn’t that wild on the scale of baby horses, but still. There was snorting. There was tail flagging. He morphed into an arabian there for a hot minute.

The vet did warn me that the swelling would likely be worse by the 3rd day, and not to freak out. As predicted, the 3rd day was when things actually started to get puffy. That slowed Presto down a bit physically, but there was still a lot of Chaos, Destruction, and Anarchy running through that little walnut brain of his. Exhibit A:

I turn my back for like 10 seconds and this is the kind of hell that breaks loose. I mean, he’s kinda like this all the time, true, but this was Presto Chaos dialed up to 11. His typically derp-derp-derp brain is moving a thousand miles an hour, making him into a baby horse tornado. Luckily aside from making a general mess of literally ANYWHERE I LEAVE HIM UNATTENDED, the only real casualty so far is his feed bucket.

He ponied on Sunday, and when I walked him up to a puddle he immediately tried to flop down and roll in it. This spurred a lot of arm flailing and “NO PRESTO NO” from me, because I didn’t want him getting muddy gross water in his incision. I stopped him before he got past sitting on his knees in the puddle like a camel (which was a sight to behold), but my goodness, you little terrorist. He didn’t even give me any warning, he just dove right in. I mean I guess I should be glad that he’s not averse to water, but I also have visions of him rolling in a water jump with me at some point in his Beginner Novice career. We should take bets on that.

He ponied without too much mischief otherwise, especially after the first lap of the field when he decided we were super boring because I wouldn’t let him chew on Henry. After that I played a little bit with him in Dobby’s little trailer loading practice chute. I think Presto likes it.

To his credit, he’s been a bit better about the cold hosing than I thought he might be. He’s never been the biggest fan of water near his crotch/butt, which I spent all of last summer working on. It’s like he’s convinced I’m gonna stick the hose up his butt or something, which has literally never happened. At least for now he’s stopped curling up like a roly poly as soon as water touches his hind end, and actually he stands pretty still. Especially considering I’m shooting really freaking cold water onto his junk for 10-15 minutes at a time.

And yes, you may have noticed he’s gotten super awkward and babyish and growthy looking again. He’s gearing up for a growth spurt for sure, because a couple weeks ago he was looking almost like a normal horse. Let’s hope that the growth spurts this spring aren’t quite as dramatic as the ones last year, where he grew a hand in 3 months. He can slow his roll, thanks.

A cold front blew through last night so hopefully he didn’t spend his evening doing more fantastic arabian impressions or destroying his remaining buckets. Or whatever else he could get his mouth on. So far (knock on literally all the wood) his surgery and aftercare have gone pretty well. Hopefully things keep healing as they should, and maybe his brain cells will start regenerating soon.

Or maybe they won’t…

 

Okay it’s not really fair to call Texas winter “Winter”, especially when some of y’all are knee deep in snow. I’ve ridden in a sunshirt 3 times in the past week, and once in a t-shirt. But winter does mean off season for us, in that we don’t have any recognized shows between December and February. That tends to be the time of year when we all buckle down and get to work, gearing up for the show season to come. I’ve noticed that I tend to take more lessons and school XC more in that time of year than probably the entire rest of the year combined. This year is no exception, with a pretty full calendar for the next couple months.

This fall and winter being a lot wetter than normal has put a damper on that a bit, but we still manage to find ways around it much of the time. This past weekend we loaded up early to head down to Pine Hill for our 2nd XC schooling in as many weeks, which feels like a fantastic luxury. The weather was nice, but Pine Hill has continued to get pummeled with rain, so most of the facility was too muddy to use. No problem though. Instead we headed up the highest, driest part of the course and worked on uphill and downhill bank combinations.

This is the kind of stuff I’m really craving right now. The major difference between Training and Prelim (aside from the extra 4″ of height and 9-12″ of width) is the technicality. Combinations are a lot harder, the jumps come up way faster, and there’s significantly less room for error. Technicality is what we really need to work on, so I can start reacting faster, which helps Henry think and move faster too.

After we warmed up, Trainer set up a little vertical at the bottom of the hill, 3 strides to a bank, 2 slightly bent strides to a rolltop. We rode it both ways, up and down. If you rode in passively, or rode in forward but then became a passenger, it didn’t work. Each element required you to keep riding forward in order for the next part to work out. Adding the terrain element made controlling your upper body especially important. I loved all of it, because these are the things that have shown to be so crucial as we’ve started testing the waters at Prelim. When they’re that big, you have GOT to keep coming forward. When they’re that big, you have GOT to be good with your body. I love exercises that make it very obvious when you’ve accomplished those things or not.

It wasn’t a long school, or one where we were jumping a lot of bigger fences, but that’s not what we need right now anyway. We know that we can gallop up to the big wide tables just fine. What we lack is some education and finesse at the technical aspects, so this kind of stuff is perfect for us. We’re knee deep in details, in every part of what we’re working on right now. It’s no longer about getting through the dressage while holding Henry’s brain together as best we can, or getting from one side of the fence to the other smoothly. Now we’re getting down into the nitty gritty, the fun stuff, the hard stuff. The bar has been raised in more ways than one.

It’s not easy, but it’s also really exciting. For the first time in my life I’m in a place with a horse where I really get to concentrate on myself. It’s uncharted territory. Sometimes I’m lost and wandering, other times it feels like a grand adventure. Either way, I love it. Hopefully the weather holds this week, because I’d really like to take Presto out next weekend and let him scope things out, put his feet in the water, and investigate the ditches/bank. He’s overdue for a field trip, I think!

Oh, and Bobby rode Cannavaro for the first time this weekend, just a quick and easy poke around to get acquainted.

He was perfect, of course. Would you expect anything less?

Honestly, describing the castration process as “snip snip” is wildly inaccurate. It’s more like squelch squelch and then the sounds of metal on metal. Which… the squelching is a gross sound. I’m good with the blood and the tissue and all that, but lord, the squelch. Barf.

I’m not gonna lie, I was really nervous about having Presto gelded. I still am, honestly. I don’t think I’ll breathe easy again until he’s totally healed and back to normal. I am a thousand times more paranoid about any kind of medical procedures with this horse than I am with anyone else. I have major flashbacks to the beginning of his life any time a vet goes near him. That’s not an experience I would like to repeat. Luckily I seem to be the only one with that baggage, because Presto doesn’t care.

My vet prefers to do standing castrations, if the horse is a good candidate for it. A “good candidate” for him is one who is tall enough to be able to see well underneath, is well-mannered enough to allow it, and has two clearly descended, easy to find (and hence chop off) testicles. In a standing castration the horse is sedated and then local anesthetic is injected at the surgery site. The main benefit of doing it this way is that you don’t have the added risk of putting the horse under general anesthesia, and my vet feels that there’s less risk to the horse and the surgical site/clotting by taking out the wobbly “standing up” part of that process. I am relatively terrified of anesthesia, so I was totally okay with trying it standing. If we had issues, we could always stop and lay him down.

So first thing first, he was sedated. This poor kid, he has every reason is the world to hate vets and hate needles and hate ALL of this crap, but he is so good. He stands like a rock for all of it, and this time was no exception. While the sedative kicked in, the vet started prepping the site and getting all his tools ready. Once Presto was nice and drunk, the local anesthetic was injected. From there, things escalated quickly. I was holding Presto so I couldn’t see most of what was going on, but Hillary was standing in full view of it all and I did get to watch all of her reactions, which went something like this.

That part was quite entertaining. Until the squelching. Then I too was making some of the same faces.

The first testicle, the left one, was out relatively quickly, thoroughly examined to make sure the vet got everything, and then it was tossed aside.

After several minutes with the clamp and an extra look to make sure everything was good, it was on to the right side. This is the testicle that took longer to drop, and still sat slightly above the other one. Once we got it out we saw why… it was little! The vet jokingly called it a micronut (very scientific term, I’m sure) and it was about half the size of the other one. Once the clamp was on, the vet showed us the anatomy of the whole thing, which part did what, and what parts you have to make sure you get out so that the horse doesn’t end up proud cut. Just what I wanted on a Thursday morning – a horse testicle anatomy lesson.

We gave him plenty of time in the clamps, since he was still just chillin, then he was examined one more time. He got some antibiotics and then we just kind of stood around and waited for the sedation to wear off so he could go back to his stall. It didn’t take long before he was like “well ok then, guess we’re done here” and off he marched.

The vet slowly packed his stuff up, wanting to stay for a while afterward to make sure there wasn’t any major bleeding. Some dripping was ok, but you obviously don’t want a stream, or a strong drip. The first few steps Presto took, there was maybe one little drip per step, but after that there was nothing. Everything looked well-clotted and good to go. The vet left me with post-care instructions and said to let him know if anything looked out of the ordinary or if he started bleeding again. I assured the vet that he’d likely be getting a photo of Presto’s crotch every day until it was totally healed. He knows I’m not joking.

I stayed for a little while longer to make sure the bleeding really had stopped and that Presto seemed fine. He had perked up out of the sedation really quickly and was totally back to normal by the time I filled his hay bag and went back to work, seemingly none the worse for wear.

I came back out a few hours later to check again and everything still looked good. No signs of fresh blood, and he was still standing there stuffing his face. He’d been drinking too, and there was fresh poop, so I went off to ride. Later I came back with a bucket and gently cleaned the area to get all the blood and gunk off his legs. He didn’t give a crap, just kept right on eating. Well, he was kinda mad about the bute I put in his dinner. He ate it while glaring at me out of the corner of his eye and making grossed out faces. Taking the nuts was fine, but ruining his dinner was a step too far, I guess.

It was a relatively uneventful thing, and I’m pretty sure that I’m way more stressed out about it than Presto is. Now we have the harder part: the aftercare. We have to cold hose and make him move around and try to manage the swelling. It’s not quite cold enough to have killed all the flies, but there are only a few. The weather looks like it will remain relatively dry, but our temperatures are fluctuating from the 70’s to the 30’s and back again.

Fingers crossed that everything heals up ok and without complication. If anyone needs me I’ll be staring like a weirdo at Presto’s crotch for the next couple weeks.

Well guys, Bobby’s new horse Cannavaro has officially landed in Texas! He arrived right on schedule, around 2pm on Tuesday.

Of course, I was at a damn doctor’s appointment right when he was getting there. Luckily Hillary was able to jet over to document the arrival, and Cannavaro and Bobby’s first meeting. She was providing live updates, which seemed very amusing to my doctor when I explained why my phone was going nuts (oh and also could y’all PLEASE HURRY UP I gotta get out of this stupid medical office!).

The rig could not comfortably fit down the driveway and be able to turn around, so they dropped the ramp and unloaded him on the side of the country road, literally into a ditch. The horse gave zero shits, like it was perfectly normal to spend 4 days on a cross-country trailer ride and then unload into a ditch on the side of a road. He very calmly stepped down the ramp, and then off they went walking down the driveway to the barn – passing scary trash cans and all kinds of fun opportunities to spook or be stupid. Cannavaro looked around and took in his surroundings, but he still wasn’t spooky or worried, and didn’t care about any of it. We were actually joking that Bobby was way jumpier and spookier about things than the horse was. How’s that for a first impression?

By the time he was off the trailer I was done at the doctor’s office, so I put the pedal to the metal and drove out to Bobby’s barn to meet the unicorn. In the mean time Bobby put him in the round pen to let him settle. Cannavaro immediately starting drinking, grazing, and got a nice thorough roll in the dirt. He wasn’t wide eyed, he wasn’t wild, he wasn’t upset… he just calmly looked around his new home.

He was as perfectly behaved as a horse can get, much less a coming 5yo OTTB, 3 weeks off the track, who just traveled 1600 miles and hadn’t been turned out in a while. He also seemed to recognize pretty immediately that Bobby was his person, coming up for snuggles and pets and cookies. The bond was immediately evident.

When I got there Cannavaro was just grazing in the round pen, calm as a cucumber. He was eating and drinking like a champ, and he has one of the sweetest, kindest faces I’ve seen in a long time. He’s got these big soft eyes, always interested in what you’re doing, but never wary or worried or upset. First impression? He was freaking perfect. I was so impressed with his temperament. Clearly he’s been well taken care of.

After a few minutes of watching him, we decided to put him out in a bigger turnout. Clearly he wasn’t going to be a nut or a danger to anyone or himself. As soon as Bobby started opening the gate to the round pen, Cannavaro came right up to him (HI DAD!) and we walked him over and stuck him out in the field next to Halo. They sniffed noses a bit, but mostly Cannavaro was interested in eating. Every few minutes he would gallop maybe 10 strides, then stop and eat again. Whoa there wild baby OTTB. Whoa there.

After watching him do basically nothing for a while, we got bored and went to tend to our own horses, leaving Bobby to get acquainted with his new kiddo alone. We got a photo update when the horses came into their stalls for dinner, and Cannavaro got an up close meet and greet with his older brother Halo.

Bobby even got him out, put him in the crossties, and groomed him. We had already warned him that some OTTB’s don’t know about crossties, but LOL. I’m pretty sure you could hogtie Cannavaro upside down to a tree and he’d be like “That’s cool, bro. No problem.” because he’s just that unflappable.

I think it’s safe to say that we’re all in love with him already. You couldn’t ask for a better brain on ANY horse, and he’s just so sweet on top of that. He is EXACTLY what Bobby was looking for. He’s absolutely 100% as advertised, if not even better than Jess made him sound. The messages from Bobby that night were awesome, and they’ve continued to be nothing but positive.

So far we’re off to a fantastic start. Cannavaro is totally a unicorn, and while I really thought he seemed like he would be a good match for Bobby, I think he’s blown everyone’s expectations out of the water. This horse is very easy to love, the kind that everyone wants to own.

Bobby is going to hop on him this weekend and just take him for a walk. Cannavaro (who is currently trying out the barn name Charlie – we’ll see if it sticks!) needs a little bit of rest, and he needs to gain a little weight, but some light hacking will be good for him. I’m beyond excited to see this partnership continue to develop… like for real this feels just as exciting as if I’d gotten a new horse myself.

As for the contest – no one guessed the number exactly, but one person was really close! Bobby used a grand total of 185 exclamation marks in the 24 hour period between when we sent him Cannavaro’s ad and when he was officially purchased, and Renee had the closest guess at 182. Renee you did not leave a last name or email or blog address so I’m not sure how to contact you… please shoot me an email via my contact page with your address and I’ll get your prize package in the mail!

Bobby does read all the comments here and really appreciated all the support and good wishes from the last post. He’s not interested in blogging, but I will include regular updates on Cannavaro here so y’all can see what they’re up to!

Welcome home, Cannavaro. ❤

To fill the other day of our unexpectedly-empty-thanks-to-show-cancellation weekend, we had a jump lesson! Trainer is coming more regularly to a farm about an hour from us, which is logistically a lot easier than our normal 2 hours each way drive to get to her place. Anytime she comes that close, I will definitely make sure that I’m there. Jump lessons haven’t been a thing that happens very regularly for us in the past several years, but they really need to. Because, uh… Exhibit A:

Boy did Henry have a bit of a wild hair up his butt on Sunday. To be fair, he hadn’t jumped since our XC school a week and a half before, so he was still kind of in his ballsy swagger XC mode. Which, as evidenced above, does not work well when I ask him to get quietly to the base. It was also really cold, and he had a very easy day the day before. He was quite rude for his first few jumps, for Henry anyway. I tried last time to put my curb chain on the hackamore to give me a little more brakes than the plain leather strap I currently have, but the PS of Sweden hackamore shanks are so wide that I couldn’t find a chain that adjusted small enough to come anywhere near being workable. I ended up ordering a miniature horse size curb chain, which should be here this week. I think that one will fit. Hopefully.

Anyway, after annihilating a couple fences, one his fault, one very much my fault (heeeeey, pro tip, do not change your mind about the distance 45 times in the last 3 strides before a swedish oxer), we started to get our shit together a bit.

At this height, Henry has a bit of a hard time jumping clear. He doesn’t really give a shit if he hits a rail, and we’re nearing the top of his scope. Any little thing I do with my seat, hands, or especially my body has a big impact on whether or not he jumps cleanly. Seriously, even if I just soften my shoulders an INCH at the takeoff, it can mean a rail. On one hand, this is great. I rarely get away with mistakes, so I’m really accountable for them, and that’s how we learn. If you want to be a student of the horse, he’s a great teacher. On the other hand, do you have any idea how hard it is to try to be THAT GOOD all the time? It’s literally impossible. At least for this very amateur rider. And sometimes that’s frustrating.

When I start feeling like that, I try to remember that in a couple years I’ll be sitting a horse where just getting from one side of the fence to the other in a semi-straight line will be the banner accomplishment for the day. Henry is giving me a great gift right now by teaching me the importance of detail and finesse, and I have to appreciate it for what it is. I know without a doubt that’s he’s making me better. I’m accountable for everything I do, every little move I make, and I’m instantly aware when I make a mistake. Some days that just kind of ends up feeling like I make a hell of a lot of mistakes and I’m a walking disaster. Other days it feels like I can actually use those mistakes to make improvements and move forward.

I always struggle a bit with keeping my upper body back enough at the base to help Henry come off the ground, especially when we get a close distance. He’s a downhill horse, not particularly powerful, and he really does need me to do everything right in order for him to jump well out of a deep distance. That little teeny minuscule softening of the shoulder, dropping them just a hair, makes a big impact on his balance as he leaves the ground. Trainer made a new suggestion – instead of thinking “shoulders back” to the base, instead think of keeping my chin up all the way to and over and jump. Just that little movement raises my shoulders the 1″ that Henry needed in order to be able to get his front end out of the way, without changing what I’m doing with my seat.

It’s such a miniscule thing, such a teeny tiny ridiculous detail. Chin up at the base? Really? Yet it worked. When I actively thought about raising my chin, he was able to get his front end out of the way a lot more quickly and efficiently. Add that to the list of 1000 other things I’m trying to remember on course.

Riding is hard y’all, and it just keeps getting harder. I kinda live in a world where “the more you know, the more you don’t know” is my constant reality. It’s funny, because it’s so easy to look at riders showing at levels higher than you and think that they must have it all figured out. I remember when I was running BN and thinking those Training riders sure must be a hell of a lot better at all this than I was. And when I was running Training I was thinking that those Prelim riders for sure were several steps ahead of me, they must not make very many mistakes, right? Truth is, we’re all making mistakes constantly. Things get better with work and time, as they do of course, but at the end of the day we’re all in the same boat, just trying to learn and do the best we can.

Gosh the process is fun, though. Humbling, and frustrating sometimes, but fun none-the-less.