Well, this has been a happy little corner of the universe lately. I’ll aim for more cheerful today.
After lunging, Hubby jumps Rodney over a few cavaletti, partly for training but mostly because it’s fun to watch him jump. Although I haven’t done courses, Rodney seems about average in knowing that the jumps have been raised.
Previous Horse was constantly surprised when a jump changed. We would jump over a fence. He would watch Hubby change the height. I would walk him over and let him sniff the fence. We would pick up a canter, aim at the jump, and PH would be totally unprepared for the new height. At shows, I had to be sure to warm up over the highest level he would see in the ring.
On the other end of the spectrum was the fabulous, if crazy, jumper mare [pictured here] I had the privilege of riding. Our first successful ride is documented in “Talking with Animals” Horse Illustrated, August 2012 (Plug. Plug. [Talk To Me]). At our first show, her owner rode her in a hunter division. I brought her back for the jumper classes. Her internal monologue ran along these lines:
Fence 2: “This one is also bigger. Great.’
Between fences 2&3: “Wait a minute. They’re ALL bigger. COWABUNGA!’
That was the last moment I had positive control over that mare. All I did from then on was make sure I pointed her at the jumps in the correct order. We had a marvelous time.
Later: back in the present day, we finally ran a hose to the barn. Now we don’t have to walk to the water trough to fill the barn buckets. However, Mathilda would not drink the result until I let the hose run for 1/2 hour to get rid of that New Hose taste. You wonder why I call her a picky cow [Line]?
Gratuitous Kitten Pic