We’re gonna dub this History Week, also known as That-Really-Boring-Week-Where-Nothing-Happened-Because-Henry-Tried-To-Rip-His-Foot-Off. He’s actually sound again as of yesterday (YAY) but today I’m on my way to West Texas to see Sadie and her baby, so no riding until the weekend. But – I’ve got a fun one… the videos I bought Henry off of. When I mentioned last week that I’d stumbled across these videos again, several of you asked to see them, so here ya go! These videos and a few pictures of him standing in the pasture were all I’d seen of him when I bought him.

Fair warning – he hadn’t been ridden in 10 months when these videos were taken, he was very fat, and he was barefoot. I loved him, and ultimately decided to buy him, for two reasons in particular… can anybody guess why?

Oh and yes, his name was Jerry. He had a new name within 48 hours. 😉

Obviously the rider is not me, so please no critique!

 

Breeding, raising, and then riding your own horse is a privilege that not many of us get to experience. Some of us (the sane, smart ones) don’t want to. I don’t blame them. It’s expensive and risky and rarely goes as planned. But still… there’s something kind of cool about riding and showing the same horse that you “made”. You were there to see that first ultrasound confirming the heartbeat. You were there when it was born. You were there when it was really really ugly and you thought “Awesome, I bred a mule.”. Okay maybe that last one was just me. You’ve all heard the abbreviated story of Sadie’s life, but what about those first 4 years when she was ugly and things were hard – the part no one wants to talk about? Let’s start at the beginning.

For pretty much all of 2005 I hemmed and hawed, looking at stallions and mares. Once I settled on the mare:

It was a matter of picking the stallion. I was stuck mostly between two: Cascani (a jumper) and Westporte (a hunter). At the time I was showing in the hunters, so I ultimately went with Westporte in the hopes of producing an A/O horse for myself. Back then he was a young horse, only shown in the Baby Greens and he only had a couple of foals on the ground, but luckily I chose well. He went on to have success in the A/O’s and Second Year Greens, and has tons of nice babies on the ground now.

In the spring of 2006, the mare was bred. She took on the first try, but when we went back in for the 45 day check, she had lost it. So she was bred again, she took again, and this time it held. There’s nothing more beautiful on an ultrasound than that black dot. Especially when it’s already cost you several grand up to that point… the first of many times that it occurs to you that you are, in fact, a complete idiot and that breeding is, in fact, the hardest and dumbest and most financially unwise way to get a horse.

But then finally, about a year later (a really ridiculously long amount of time BTW) your own personal little demon foal is born and it’s so cute you don’t care how much it cost. Sadie in particular looked like a little moose, and I fell in love.

I was the one responsible for teaching Sadie all the important stuff on How to Horse. You don’t realize that until the first time you’re holding the lead rope of your own little creature, going “Oh my God, who put me in charge? I don’t know what I’m doing!”. Don’t worry, it’s just the basic skills that the horse needs to learn to carry it through it’s entire life and make it a productive member of equine society. No pressure. Don’t mess it up.

But she learned, with fairly minimal argument, and before I knew it she was a weanling… officially her own creature, no longer an extension of her dam. This is also the last time she was cute for, well, YEARS. The uglies were strong with this one.

Finally toward the middle of her yearling year she looked a little bit more like a horse than a mule, and I started teaching her All The Horse Things. Lunging (at the walk and then later a little trot), wearing a saddle and bridle, standing tied, voice commands, ponying. She never took exception to any of that, so after the first five times you’re like “Well… that was fun. Now I’m just gonna stand here and wait for her to get older so we can do something else”. You know what feels like an eternity? Those first two years.

The older she got, and the uglier she stayed, the more panicked I became. Oh my god what if she really did stay ugly forever? What would I do then? She was also a midget – at 2.5yo she was barely 15.2h and about as wide as a fence post. I tried to assure myself that she would eventually blossom, because every once in a while she would have a really pretty week. But truth be told, I was terrified she wouldn’t. What would I do with a tiny ugly hunter?

And then finally when she was coming 3, the glimpses of a nice horse started to stay for longer and longer. She filled out a little and started moving really well. At least for a month or two. Then she would grow, and with every growth spurt she looked really lanky again. From one month to the next she could look like a totally different horse.

Year 2-3 was also The Year of the Neverending Vet Bill. Stiches, staples, a hock infection, and pretty much any other injury you can name. She also started to challenge authority a bit and developed a mind of her own. I discovered that a bored Sadie was not a good Sadie. She learned that she could sit back at will and break just about any halter/lead rope. She decided she was suddenly herdbound and could not function without her friends. My sweet little donkey had taken on the personality of a rabid teenager.

Which is why, shortly before her 3rd birthday, I sent her to a cowboy to get started. I’d started my own horses before but this one was different – she was a little too smart, and it was a little too important that she not be messed up. I would never be able to live with myself if I ruined her, and the mere fact that that thought had entered my mind meant I really needed to let someone else do it. Fear of failure is crippling to progress.

After 30 days I went up to see her and was very pleased with how she looked. She seemed much happier to have a job, and she was obedient and quiet. My sweet Sadie was back.

I was not expecting to ride that day and had not come prepared, but Cowboy Dan insisted, so up I went. And you know what? That first ride was kind of magical. She was scrawny, she was wiggly, she was green, and we didn’t do a damn thing interesting, but it was a culmination of many years worth of dreams to finally be sitting on the horse I bred.

After 60 days I brought her home and spent the rest of her 3yo year hacking, trail riding, trotting the random crossrail or two, and reinforcing the groundwork she’d learned at Dan’s. He, and in turn she, taught me a lot about young horse mentality. You have to make a lot of decisions, and every single one of them is important… you’re laying the building blocks upon which their entire life will be constructed. Sadie turned into a steady, reliable partner with an incredible work ethic and fantastic retention. We both learned how to channel her smarts for good instead of evil.

At the beginning of her 4yo year when my h/j trainer came to pick her up, she was still ugly. I was actually so thankful that it was cold enough that day to keep a blanket on her, because I was mortified when I handed the lead rope to him to load her onto his trailer. I was sure he was thinking “What the hell is this thing?” even though he was too polite to say it. And though he did give her the nickname of Muley, eventually she started getting prettier and blossomed in his care and under his tutelage.

Sadie is now 8 years old and every bit of 16.3h. I did not actually end up with a midget, she was just a late bloomer. She never did become the A/O hunter that she was bred to be, so in a way I guess you could say we failed. Turns out she really preferred the jumpers. Turns out so did I. But I think sometimes even when you don’t accomplish what you originally set out to do, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means the universe knew better.

People sometimes ask me if I would do it all again. Breeding and raising a horse isn’t for the faint of heart. To be honest – it sucks. But it also comes with it’s own unique set of rewards. Sometimes I think the answer is an emphatic YES. Other days I’m so thankful for my cheap, quick, easy purchase of Henry that breeding again seems like nothing short of absolute insanity. But despite that, the dream of another baby horse still sparkles in the back of mind. All those hopes and dreams… all that blood and sweat and tears. That’s horses. After all, it takes a special kind of stupid to want to do this, and I’m just that kind.

Last week Henry got his feet done on Wednesday, so I rode him pretty lightly that evening. Thursday I decided we’d do a conditioning hack, so I tacked him up in his ghetto fab bridle with obnoxiously awesomely bright blue reins and walked him over to the big field next door.

As soon as I got on I thought he felt a little funny, but once we got out to the road he felt better, so I figured maybe he was just a touch footsore on the gravel driveway. We made our way through the cornfield, back into the grassy field behind it, took two steps of trot, and I immediately pulled him up. He was lame. Like – felt totally crippled kind of lame.

We walked back, I put him on the lunge line, and immediately thought OMG he’s broken every bone in his body. I had to call the barn owner out there to look because my brain was screaming in terror and could not see anything but CRIPPLED in flashing neon letters. She immediately spotted either left front or right hind, so we went poking around and eventually found this under his bell boot.

I don’t know what the hell he did, but he did it with gusto. Considering he wears big thick heavy duty bell boots 24/7, that’s a hell of a wound. We pushed on it a little and he threatened to kick both of our faces in, so we deduced that this was in fact why he looked so incredibly lame. I took him in, washed it out (which was really fun because those little dried mud balls don’t wash out, they have to be picked out with your nails), wrapped it up, and called the vet. I wanted him to come out to just make sure there were no signs of infection, and so he could give him the once over and make sure no other damage was done.

The vet didn’t have a spot in his schedule until Sunday, and since I’d calmed down the hysterics by that point, I said that was fine. I cancelled my dressage lesson for Saturday, and kept coming out daily to flush it out, medicate and wrap it… it was still a little muddy out in his pasture so I wanted to leave it wrapped for a few days.

By Sunday Henry was much less sensitive about it, but I would rather be safe than sorry so I kept the vet appointment. The vet poked around, we jogged him, hoof tested him, palpated the leg, and declared that Henry would in fact live and there was no other damage to be found. He already looked significantly less lame in 3 days time… it seems he’s just a drama queen. The vet cut off the flap of tissue, I slathered some ointment on it, coated it in AluShield, and that was that.

Fingers crossed he’s better in a few days. He’s looking awfully pleased with himself right now as I shove cookies into him, poke at his foot, and then don’t ride him. Just what he needed, another vacation! Turd.

And of course I did what any sane person with a lame horse would do – mailed in my deposit for the Buck Davidson clinic in December.

Well, a horse grandma. Sadie’s baby was born last night at around 8:30pm – it’s a BIG bay colt! He looks like a little copy of mom, with the exact same little white sock and tiny speck of white on his forehead, and her trademark donkey ears. He’s gonna big a big, rangey dude. I’ll have more/better pictures later this week as he unfolds and they go outside, but here’s a few to get you started!

All went very well, it was a quick birth and he was trying to stand almost immediately. Sadie was also up quickly and passed everything in one piece. She’s being a great mom, totally loves him. You never really know how maidens are going to feel about the whole thing until the moment comes.

That brings us to the issue of who won the Baby Contest. It ended up being neck and neck. No one guessed the exact date but ONE person guessed June 26, so was only 2 days off. She got the color right and was only a couple hours off on the time, and missed the gender (don’t worry, initially everyone thought it was a filly too), but it was close enough! Congrats to ashequine! I cannot get to your blog page link so please contact me so I can get you your Riding Warehouse gift certificate!

I’m shamelessly stealing Lauren’s idea (much love to ya, girl) from last week because I thought it was brilliant. I’ve had Henry for a little over a year and half now and he’s come a long way from the obese pasture puff that walked off the trailer from Arkansas. Plus photo progressions are fun! I don’t have as many nice pictures as Lauren does, and I really struggled to remember the shows and the classes, but I think I got it. Also I didn’t want to put up a million videos so I just included a video from his very first show, and then the video from stadium at his latest horse trial.

February 2014 – 2’3″-2’6″ jumpers

March 2014 – 2’3″-2’6″ jumpers

April 2014 – 2’6″-2’9″ jumpers

May 2014 – 2’9″-3′ jumpers, 2’9″ hunters

September 2014 – eventing derby, BN

November 2014 – USEA recognized horse trial, BN

April 2015 – USEA recognized horse trial, BN

May 2015 – USEA recognized horse trial, BN

May 2015 – 3′-3’3″ jumpers

May 2015 – USEA recognized horse trial, BN

June 2015 – USEA recognized horse trial, Novice

Looking at the video from his first show, I had honestly forgotten just how horribly overflexed and balled up he used to get, and how difficult it was to fix. Nothing like cantering up to a fence thinking that your horse might not actually be able to see it. He’s much easier to ride now that his head/neck/shoulder has come up and he can keep the power coming forward. Out of all the project horses I’ve had (11, but who’s counting) I’ve never had one where I had to get the poll UP and nose OUT. Henry enjoys being abnormal.

It’s also hilarious how the coal cart jump from our April event looked a little worrisome to me at the time, and now 2.5 months later I’m like “It’s so cute and little!!!”. Perspective and miles change everything, even in a short time.

It occurs to me that I should probably go to a dressage show at some point… it’s kind of the one thing we haven’t done. Whatever. Rectangles are scary.