Hangry, Hangry Hippo

Horsekeeping

 

Milton had a very mild colic over the weekend.

Horse: No thank you. I don’t want a carrot.
Owner: Okay, have some Banamine instead.
Horse: All better.
Owner: That’s great. (Gets up every two hours to check for poop.)

Milton was PISSED.

We called the vet when we started treatment, i.e. walking & Banamine, by way of warning. Fortunately, a barn call was not needed. Our vet clinic believes in leaving the horse in a barren stall after such an incident.

Owner: In you go. No dinner, no hay for you.
Horse: Whaaaaaat?!??!

During night checks – why do they always seem to colic at 7:30 pm on a Sunday? – there was poop, starting around midnight, as well as screaming and attitude, constantly. Rodney had wandered off to eat. Milton was alone! Milton had no food! Milton was not pleased!

Of course, you wonder why. Feed/supplement change? We are always fiddling with their diet. Work? Nothing different lately. Heat? For unrelated reasons, we had checked Milton’s temp before & after his short, late afternoon long-line session. We knew for a fact that he hadn’t overheated – up half a degree, despite sweating by all parties. The vet said the clinic had several tummyache calls that weekend and that colic calls had been up lately. So, something in the air?

Milton was better in minutes. He was hangry for hours.

Why I Am Not A Saddle Seat Genius, And Probably Won’t Be

Adventures in Saddle Seat

 

Haven’t had a lesson in a while, so I took a look back. This year, 2018, marks my seventh year in saddle seat, including five show-heavy years from 2013 to 2017 [2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017]. You’d think I’d understand how to ride an American Saddlebred.

I’m not fishing for pats on the back. I’ve had some great times and some great rides. As for truly grokking the sport? Mostly I’ve learned what I don’t know. While I have street cred for my skills at the introductory level, I don’t grasp the first thing about piloting a horse on the green shavings [Why Green?].

Jumper Analogy. I have been jumping crossrails on school horses. I have been to Crossrails Nationals. I haven’t a clue how to ride a 1.2 meter class (or 3′ 11″, the lowest level for Amateur-Owner Jumpers).

Dressage Analogy. First level. First-Level Nationals. FEI levels remain a mystery. I’m told dressage is actually interesting once one climbs out of the basement.

I’ve been introduced to the show bridle, the saddle seat term for a double bridle [Different Versions of the Same Thing]. While I have ridden and shown with it, I am still in the Do No Harm phase. I don’t actually know how to use the the daft thing to influence the horse.

Tack Analogy. Wear spurs. Try not to poke holes in your horse. Wear spurs. Send subtle and complex message to your horse – so I hear.

Pleasure Driving. I am only just starting to be more than a happy passenger.

Jumping Analogy. Grab mane. Hang on. Versus. Follow over the fence with a sympathetic hand. Turn in the air. Land in position to adjust for the next fence.

A handful of nice horses have carted me around at a rack [Let ‘Em Rack]. And, of course, those times the horse racked when we weren’t supposed to [Trump-the-Horse, Robert]. Getting & keeping it on command, under pressure? Not a prayer.

Dressage Analogy. You know counter-canter. You learn tempi changes. Your horse throws a lead change when you want counter-canter, or counter-canter when you want a lead change. Eventually, you sort it all out.

I bring this on myself. My lack of familiarity with fancy saddle seating starts with my stubborn refusal to move up to performance classes. [Suiting Up]

Life Analogy. I am stuck in an eternal Academy limbo. At least I have eternal Academy limbo to be stuck in. [Show Report]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

I’m Tired

Home Team

 

Having two horses in work wears me out.

I’m not complaining.
I’m not humble bragging.
I’m surprised. Again.

When I don’t have a horse to ride every day, I whine, I fret, I bitch [so many links, where do I start?]. I miss it terribly. I also forget. I forget how much mental space riding my own horse takes up, way out of proportion to the hours involved.

It’s not an issue of time. When I say both horses are in work, I use the term loosely. Rodney is proceeding at his standard glacial pace, finally learning to walk around the whole, entire field. Just because it’s been eight years this month … frustration alert, move on, move on. For Milton, walking and a bit of trotting in our pasture constitutes learning to work outside of a ring, which is progress. So, I go out, dust off a horse, ride, come back into the house, and collapse.

It’s not a physical issue. I’m not exhausted, the way I am after Nationals boot camp [Progress Report]. I don’t nosedive into bed for an afternoon nap. I just have no motivation to DO anything. There are things that can rouse from my stupor. Blog? Yes. The trickle of work I have left? With heroic effort. Dishes? Laundry? It is to laugh.

A rider has a responsibility to any horse they ride. With the Stepping Stone Farm school horses, my responsibility ends when I hang up the bridle. I love Sam [MSSP 2018]. I don’t spend time wondering if he is getting the right amount of food for the work he is doing, or how today’s ride fits into his overall training & fitness plan. With my own horses the wondering never stops, analysing from specific to general and back again.

I go to the barn. Are they in or out? If they are in, are they sweaty? Do I need to turn up the fans? I catch a horse. Does he come up or run off? If he turns away, is he expressing an opinion about his job? Do I need to work less? More? Tell him to suck it up, Cupcake? Pick up the feet. The blacksmith is coming in how many weeks? The shoes should be okay until then.

Brush. Any bumps or lumps? Does that look like a kick or a bite? Poke. Poke. There’s a lot of horse here. Should I lower his feed? Or do I not want him losing weight as we swing toward winter? Brush. Skin feels shiny. Dust is sliding off. The new flax supplement seems to be working. Saddle, bridle. Everything still fit? Looks good. Need to wash the saddle pads.

Walk to riding area. How does he look? Lethargic and reluctant? Yeah, that’s about normal. C’mon horse, time to make the donuts.

I haven’t even gotten on.

Riding is all of the horse care questions – is he moving well? Is he tight anywhere? – plus all of the training questions – Which way is Milton going? Racing direction versus non-racing direction? Has Rodney suddenly switched “good sides”? – plus all the hopes and fear and dreams represented by your show goals. Some of these questions occur on lesson horses. On your own horse, everything is in stereo, with knobs on eleven. Then reminding yourself how d*mned lucky you are to be on a horse at all. Maybe you should stop and smell the horsehair?

After, does he run off when I let him go? For Rodney, this is a big tell for stress. There goes Milton, licking his salt block again. Is he getting enough electrolytes, or is this his stress move?

I will adapt. Eventually. For now, excuse me, I need to go stare at kittens and let my brain reboot.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

WEG 2018 – Opportunity or Distraction? Crowd Sourcing My Decision

Home Team, or Not?

 

The nice people at WEG have asked me to come work as a Crossing Marshal on cross-country day. To go or not to go. I am a model of undecided dithering.

Opportunity – The Pros
Chance of a lifetime! World-class competition! Like-minded souls! Shopping!

Crowd control. I can do this. As I told them, “I know crossing/crowd control is considered a low-status volunteer job, but I’m actually quite good at it. Smiling at people and saying – for the hundredth time – No you can’t go there. It is empty/off limits for a reason (explain reason with perky song & dance. Get laugh). And the fact that NO ONE else in this ENTIRE crowd of people had that same brilliant idea means you are just a special genius snowflake. Only I don’t say that last bit. After several hours of this I have to go off and be extremely bitchy. But that’s not your problem.” Plus, crowd control is a skill that never goes away. With jump judging, I found it hard to work major events without little events to keep my eye sharp and my confidence high.

Will I have a good time? Yes.

Will I regret missing it? Yes. Somewhat. I’m still sorry that I did not get up to Toronto for the PanAm Games in 2015. It’s not a decision that keeps awake at night, but I do have mild regret. (For an entertaining recap of PanAm 2015, see Writing From the Right Side of the Stall. Blatant plug, I’m a fan. Ten Things About the Toronto Pan Am Games, 2015 Toronto Pan Am Games: Dressage, 2015 Toronto Pan Am Games: Eventing.)

Distraction – The Cons
Been there, done that. Obstacle Communicator in Atlanta for the Olympics in 1996. Giudice Ostacolo
in Rome for WEG in 1998, Crossing Guard in Lexington for WEG in 2010. How many once-in-a-lifetime experiences does one person need?

Money.

Boredom. Doesn’t makes sense to go all that way for one day. What would I do with the rest of my time? You’d think I could volunteer elsewhere on other days. That didn’t happen in 2010. I spent a lot of time doing the Flying Dutchman back and forth across the Kentucky Horse Park. Thumb twiddling is not a good look on me.

Work. Could I turn it into a writing opportunity? No. Or at least, I’ve never been able to. Staff writers & editors get the big ones. They don’t need freelancers.

Blog. I would certainly get blog posts out of a trip to Tryon. But, I’m generally not lacking for reasons to yammer.

Vanity. The person who contacted me is very good at their job and flattered me inordinately. I’d hate to let them down.

The main reason, the big reason, is that I just said I was tired of watching other people ride, that I need to get out of the stands and get into the ring myself [End of the Road]. Am I falling back into the pattern of getting involved in everything but my own life ? Just this once? But there is always another once.

In Closing
I’m not asking to tell me Go or Not Go, unless you feel like weighing in. Instead, what other questions should I ask myself to make my decision?

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Referral Saturday, Tevis Cup Magic

Tackbox Tales

 

Every year in late July or early August, I become obsesses with the Tevis Cup, i.e. the 100 Mile One Day Western States Trail Ride.

Watching The Tevis
Watching the Tevis, Take II

I follow the feeds and maps and standings. I wait to see who won and who was awarded the Haggin Cup. And then I forget about endurance for another year. Along the same lines as becoming a horse racing fan on the first Saturday in May.

This year, my Google searches served up

Tevis Cup Magic: Taking on the world’s toughest 100 mile endurance ride
by Merri Melde
Available as en ebook only
Cover photo from author’s website

Published in 2016 about her surprise ride in the 2009 Tevis. Yeah, you read that right. As of the Monday before the ride, the author had no plans to ride in the Tevis. Ever.

The short book reads like a long blog post. Imagine you have a friend who rode in the Tevis. Afterwards, you send her an email that says, ‘Congratulations! What was it LIKE?’ This would be the response.

Yes, you have to pay for it, but not much. I can spend more than $3 at a snack stop, and the book lasts longer.

Enjoy.

Previous Referral Saturdays [List]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Spotted at the Birmingham Mural

Photography

 

While I cop to being lazy about dragging out my big camera, I do have legitimate photo news. I signed up for another evening education photo class.

Birmingham’s History in Plain Sight
Taught by Meg McKinney
Samford Academy of the Arts

This is the same Meg who has guest posted and given me photo lessons [List of MM posts]. One reason I took the previous classes was to meet the prerequisites for Meg’s classes [Photo Class Without The Photos, It’s All Grist for the Mill, Spotted at Kymulga Grist Mill].

Yes, I will be taking Spotted along, in a blatant attempt to turn my homework into blog posts.

“Wells Fargo Community Murals celebrate the legacy of the communities we serve, highlighting the geography, industry, and cultural diversity that give each community its unique character and sense of place. From small towns to big cities, we have installed custom community murals in over 2,300 Wells Fargo locations nationwide.” Wells Fargo Community Mural Program

I found this 10 minutes into my search for a suitably historic photo op. Photography is all about learning how to look.

Update. Forgot to include the address. The bank is at 316 18th Street South. The mural runs along 4th Avenue South.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott