Do you ever look at your horses, both doing something super weird at the same time, and think “Is it me? Do I have this effect on my animals? Am I a derp too?”?

It’s been stupid cold here for the past few days (for TEXAS in NOVEMBER anyway). Monday was dreary with a high near 40 degrees and a wind so strong it almost blew me over getting out of my truck. Normally the day after a show is a long walk hack for Henry plus pony for Presto, but I just could not even bring myself to take their blankets off. They got treats and extra hay and then I hastily retreated to the indoors.

Tuesday was slightly better. Sunny at least, and the wind was less disgusting. But Henry had a vet appointment to get his teeth done, and he’s such a cheap date that the drugs just about knocked him on his literal ass. There was much swaying, and no pinned ears (that’s how you know he’s REALLY gone, when he loses his ability to pin his ears). But his teeth looked surprisingly decent aside from a couple of sharpish points and small hooks. His jaw doesn’t quite line up so normally his teeth look worse even when I get them done every 6 months. The vet even said they weren’t that bad this time (this is the same horse who once had a team of vets gathered around him taking pictures of the inside of his mouth due to how freaking weird it is) so that’s a win.

After Henry was done I grabbed Presto so the vet could feel up his little baby jewels and see if he felt like they were ready to come off. Many jokes about Presto’s teeny tiny nuts later (they really are so small though), the vet declared that they are indeed ready, so now I’m watching the weather and waiting for just the right time. While the vet was packing his stuff I tied Presto by Henry’s stall and it took him all of 2 seconds before he pulled Henry’s blanket off the rack and tried to stomp it to death.

Clearly baby horse had some pent up cold weather energy, so I decided to toss him out in the arena to let him play a bit before I put him up. He did not disappoint. Although I’m still not quite sure what gait this is. I think it’s all of them combined.

He also does a pretty magnificent arabian impression. Hillary was watching and said “He looks a little arabian-esque today”. I was like “Hmmm… nope, I just don’t see it…”.

In his defense he did have some cute moments amid all the weird-gait, snorting, flailing, arabian-impressions.

He’s starting to look so much like a horse now. By spring he might not even look like a baby anymore at all, aside from just being generally awkward. This is both exciting and kind of sad. He definitely still ACTS like a weirdo baby though, so there’s always that. I did notice yesterday that both of my horses have weird things they do with their tongues, albeit slightly different. Henry flops his out the side and plays with it, whereas Presto curls his up in his mouth. Both of them do it when they’re bored. I must be really boring.

I also realized yesterday when I was getting them ready for a their hack that it’s getting harder and harder to see Henry over the top of Presto anymore. Should we take bets on when Presto catches up to him, size wise?

Couple of weirdos these two are, but I’m pretty weird too so I guess it works out. Maybe I DID make them derpy. Either way, I love them both to bits.

Last phase, best phase! If you haven’t seen the recaps from dressage and stadium yet, go check those out first to see my new format.

What went well?

Everything felt pretty easy and small, and nothing was particularly intimidating. That’s always a good feeling. My big goals for this course were a) smooth out the whole ride b) have a good jump at the trakehner. Aside from a random bobble (more on that in a bit) everything did come up really well out of stride and rode very smooth, plus the trakehner rode PERFECTLY. I’ve freakin buried him at a trakehner at the last 3 shows we’ve been to, so I was glad to finally break that stupid streak. Sorry Henny, thanks for your patience as you endure the life of an amateur horse.

I also was able to get a little redemption at the Weldon’s Wall, which we jumped on course here in the spring but it was not particularly pretty. They have a bunch of people and the ambulance parked near it and you have to pass all that stuff to get to the Weldon’s, which itself has a big downhill landing that makes it look like you’re jumping off into the abyss. Last time Henry was pretty spooky here and I had to growl at him a bit, but this time he was laser-focused and jumped the absolute shit out of that thing.

Henry also crossed the finish line with his ears pricked, barely so much as an elevated respiratory rate, and I’m pretty sure he could have quite easily gone around again. He’s really fit and strong, and that makes me happy.

What could have gone better?

First of all, there was a lot of confusion about what course my PT division was supposed to be doing – the regular Training course or the Championship course. It made more sense for us to do the Championship course, but nothing was posted or said about it anywhere, so several riders had to go track down the TD and ask. I didn’t find out that they just assumed we were going to do the Championship course until I was in the warmup, which was a little frustrating on several levels. Luckily there were only a couple things that were different between the courses, and I had seen them even if I hadn’t walked them.

But anyway, we had kind of a sad and tragic “shit happens” incident when Henry almost busted ass galloping through a patch of longer grass/chewed up sand going up a steep hill right before the C element of the coffin. We were only a couple strides out at that point and there was just no way we were going to make it safely over the corner while he was still trying to get his feet back under him, so I had to circle, picking up a 20. It was a major bummer, but not a genuine refusal, so… just one of those things that can go wrong when you ride over terrain, I suppose.

What can we work on to improve things next time?

Clearly I should be more aware of slight footing changes, even if they seem relatively minor to me. Henry does have a tendency to trip easily, so I maybe should have tried to do more to help him there. Lesson learned.

Otherwise he was pretty foot perfect and everything felt good, but if I’m nit-picking I do think that I was a little bit less forward and positive to the first few jumps than I normally am, and it felt like he didn’t really get settled into his gallop until after the first water. Granted, the course was really twisty and turny and did not make for a good flow at all. I wasn’t a fan.

In general though it was a good show, with LOTS of learning moments, some big triumphs, and plenty that we can build on going forward. It was a major confidence boost for me, and I’m looking forward to Pine Hill in a couple weeks to close out our year!

Alright, on to the more fun phases! As I explained yesterday in the dressage post, I’ve changed up my format for show recaps to help me reflect on things a bit better. And for the jumping phases especially, I think this is really important.

What went well?

I’m going to be brutally honest here for a minute and tell you that I was straight up shitting my pants before stadium. Emotionally, anyway. The course was big and it was technical, and the rounds I had watched before I went to tack up were not going very well. When all of the very experienced people in Intermediate are having lots of problems (including the 4* rider) it does not leave one’s confidence feeling particularly bolstered. I was starting to wonder wtf I had even been thinking, to try this, and at Texas freaking Rose – the biggest, most intimidating venue in Area 5 – of all the places.

As I was tacking up I told Henry that I really needed his help here. That I was going to do the best I could to help him out too, but he would have to meet me halfway if we were gonna do this. It might make me sound like a total loon, but I swear he understands.

We went in the ring, I took a deep breath as the whistle blew, and I committed to just TRY. That’s all. Just try. If we failed then so be it, but I’ll be damned if we came this far just for me to curl up in fetal position and ride in as if we were already defeated. I am a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter.

So I did try. As did my little gem of a horse. It wasn’t perfect, there were rails, but we did it. We fucking DID IT.

Sometimes I helped him, sometimes he helped me. When I made a mistake, I rallied and kept riding instead of just crumbling and letting things fall apart.

It was very much a team effort, and we got it done together.

I think I did a bit better job of sitting up than I did at Holly Hill, and I tried to keep riding forward without running him at things in a blind panic.

We made it through, and it wasn’t tragic, and I’ve never been more proud of a horse in my entire freaking life. Which is saying a lot, because I’m proud of Henry pretty much always, but never more so than on that day.

Rails be damned, there may have been a few happy tears on the way back to the barn, a whole lot of smooches in the stall, and Henry may have eaten like 2 dozen nickerdoodles.

What could have gone better?

Look, I was so happy to have completed the course in one piece that I did not even give a single shit about everything that went wrong. But, of course, there was plenty.

I suffered a little bit from show ring paralysis (I always do), and all of my half halts came a couple strides too late. This resulted in our one really big OOPS on the course, when after the triple I failed to get him back in time and we got down to the next oxer on a yucky half stride. Bless Henry’s golden little heart, it would have been much easier for him to just slide to a stop, but he tried his best to jam another step in and then climb over the oxer. It was hideous and embarrassing and we took a rail down with us, but he got us to the other side in one piece.

What can we work on to improve things next time?

The biggest thing is what I’ve been working on for a while – making adjustments sooner. I’m pretty good at landing from a slightly under-powered jump and immediately riding forward (like fence 1) but I’m not so good about landing from a bold jump and immediately re-balancing. While I’d much rather make a mistake going too forward rather than pulling too much, I still have to keep the balance. It’s especially important to do it sooner rather than later when he’s in this really mild hackamore, because last-minute adjustments just don’t happen.

I also need to give Henry a bit of a longer distance to the oxers, especially when they’re square. He just does not jump them well from a deeper spot, never has, and despite all of our efforts, I don’t think he ever will. Which is totally counter-intuitive, but there it is.

So overall, was it a great round? No. Does that mean I’m any less proud of myself or my horse for getting through it semi-capably? No. I literally never ever ever thought we’d even contemplate this level, much less try it, much less survive it, and here we are, staring it in the face. I feel so much more confident now, in myself and in my horse, and I know that we can actually do this. The finesse will come, but for now I’m just proud of us and I can’t freaking wait for the professional pictures.

I decided that I’m going to follow a new format for show recaps, branching off of one of the books I’m reading about show ring mentality. I think it might be a more helpful exercise for me to break it down a little differently rather than just word vomit all the things I remember most (which is usually all of the less-positive things). Feel free to tell me what you think of this format!

So, for dressage…

What went well?

Y’all, it was 35 freaking degrees on Saturday morning and my dressage time was at 8:07am. I thought I might die.

Good news: didn’t die!

Did just about freeze solid though. Definitely could not feel my face or fingers or toes.

While Henry was tighter than usual, he actually ended up giving me some really nice work towards the end of our warmup. Which… warmup was a really interesting place to be all day. Nothing like dropping a bunch of fit, athletic eventers into a sudden arctic cold front. Yee-freakin-haw.

Henry was a bit more tense in the ring (he always is, especially at Texas Rose) but he did his job and was relatively obedient. The beginning of the Prelim A test is especially tricky on a tense tight horse, with the 10m circle, halt, 10m circle sequence at the beginning making it hard to really push them forward into a nice rhythm. He tried for me though, and we even earned another 9 (our second this season!) on the final halt. Our first recognized Prelim dressage test was in the books, and with a totally respectable score of 34.8. I really just wanted to be under 40, so I’m 110% hella ok with a 34.8.

What could have gone better?

Omg, y’all, I HAD AN ERROR. HAHAHAHAHA. My dumb ass turned up centerline for the first leg yield and tried to freaking half pass instead. I just had a total brain fart and started going right instead of left. A few steps in I was like wait… this isn’t leg yield… right as the judge rang the bell. Total derp moment.

Why I’m trying to make this test even harder than it is, I don’t know, but I sure did. Whoops. If you’re going to mess up, that’s a pretty hilarious way to do it, I suppose.

To be honest I thought the test was going to score really badly. I just felt a little disorganized in general and I knew I was inaccurate in a couple of figures, plus the medium canters felt very lackluster. The judge was definitely nice to me I think, but I will take the charity. I guess it balances out the mean judge from Holly Hill a couple weeks ago.

What can we work on to improve things next time?

Um well I could, like… remember the test, that might help. News flash: there’s no half pass at Prelim.

Otherwise I’m not really surprised with how things went, all the lower scores were on movements that I already knew were a bit lacking. We definitely need to keep working on the 10m circle-halt-10m circle at the beginning, and the 10m half circles at canter. I’m struggling a little to keep him from getting stuck in those. A dressage lesson definitely needs to happen. And honestly, it’s probably time to try to mark out a dressage arena at home, because those smaller figures are really hard to ride well at a show when you only ever ride in a field at home. I do way too much guessing.

So, ya know, overall there was definitely plenty of room for improvement, but some good moments too. Most importantly, dressage was done, and now I could focus on stadium! That’s the part I was really worried about…

Presto has been really, really quiet lately. He’s always pretty quiet for a baby, as far as not being an idiot, but his default setting is also “pest”. You know how baby horses are… kind of busy and mouthy and with short attention spans. Over the last month or so all of that kind of faded away to the point where even the barn worker noticed and said something to me. He ate, he drank, he played with the donkeys a bit, and he looked fine, but he just seemed to be a little more dead to the world than you would expect a long yearling colt to be. On Wednesday he was so blah that I even took his temperature to make sure he wasn’t dying (nope, all good) and left the barn wondering if I should have the vet out for another blood panel or something.

And then a cold front blew through.

Have no fear, people, Presto is back and he is a bigger menace to society than ever. I got him out intending to take him out for a pony in the field, and he was a total wiggle monster in the barn. Couldn’t stand still, wanted to put everything in his mouth, forgot very basic manners relating to what direction his butt is allowed to go at any one time, etc. And that was just in the barn.

He spent some time tied in the arena while I flatted Henry a bit, which he mostly just alternated pawing and moving his butt around from one side to the other in protest. When I untied him and went to pony him away, he decided it would be fun to bite Henry and then try to run away bucking. Clearly we were not going to pony in the field this day. Baby horse was miiiiighty big for his britches, and way too full of joie de vivre.

So baby horse got put to work instead. I really just wanted to spend 5 minutes doing walk/trot/halt transitions on the lunge line but that little turd decided to kick up his heels and try to act like a fool. I do not tolerate horses kicking out on the lunge line, especially babies, and especially when the hind feet come anywhere near my general direction, so he kept getting quickly shut down every time those hind feet decided to rocket from the earth. I wish I could say that he learned his lesson quickly, but no. We repeated it over and over and over. Finally he started to focus and I started asking for some transitions, but now he’d forgotten how to stop straight, and instead opted to turn in towards me and stop. Seriously, this is a thing he learned forever ago and hasn’t done in a really long time, he knows that whoa means halt straight, but we had to have some serious remedial school work yesterday.

By the end he managed to gather his faculties and put himself back together. Turns out he can in fact still trot and walk and whoa and stand still and pay attention. Mostly. We ended with me standing next to the big mounting block outside of the arena and stomping around, leaning on him, and flapping things around. He was unimpressed by that, so I think I sufficiently re-killed his spirit.

Life with babies is never boring.

I was glad to see him back in pest mode though, since I was starting to worry about the too-quiet behavior. Maybe he was just feeling hot and sluggish. Maybe he was moping about not getting to come out and do stuff as much lately. Either way, if yesterday was any indication, he’s cured.