Acts of Faith
Last week, I did something I have never done before. I went with a trainer to look at horses. The lady with whom I take saddleseat lessons took me up north to see if any ASBs wanted to become sport horses. Technically, she is my instructor rather than my trainer. I keep my horses at home. Nor would she be the trainer for Future Horse, who would also live at home. As I understand the rules, the trainer is the person responsible for the horse, i.e. Big Name Rider oversees the horse’s care while Big Name Owner pays the bills. On entry forms, the trainer signifies the person to bust when the horse fails a drug test.
Still, I hopped in the car because she is a horse trainer. I distrust her slightly less than trainers I have encountered in the past – what can I say, I’ve had bad luck – and she has connections in the horse world. The sum total of my knowledge was two horses in Kentucky and a chestnut mare in Indiana.
The downside of such a trip is the possibility of disappointing a person whose good opinion you value. I was convinced I would anger/frustrate/annoy Instructor to the point where she would be sick of the sight of me. The atmosphere at the barn would become so fraught that I would be compelled to give up saddleseat. I would go back to being despondent 7 days a week instead of merely 6.
Which proves that I can fall into a tailspin as fast in Indiana as at home.
Tomorrow: the horses.