Can a horse’s body remember trauma from a decade ago?
On the upside, Rodney and Milton continue to play [Downs & Ups, Outtakes] On the downside, they now come in with with bumps and bangs.
Milton peeled a thin, 2-inch-long layer of skin from the center of Rodney’s back. (In an extremely inconvenient place for riding sitting upon.) No blood. Barely a scrape. Just hair, skin, and maybe the teeniest, tiniest bit of red skin under the scab.
However, Rodney reacted out of proportion to the (lack of) severity of the injury. When I checked on it, he would fling his head, flinch, and sink his back. Yes, he is a drama llama, but this was extreme even for him. You would expect this level of response after surgery.
It is in the same/close to the same area where he had a near-fatal injury as a colt [Daddy Dearest, scroll down]. Does the discomfort cause him to have flashbacks? Can horses have flashbacks?
Inspired by the work of Jessica Hische. Although, there is a good chance she would be horrified by my overuse of the form.
“I love swashes, but you should always try to add them sparingly … When making decorative lettering, the decorative bits, no matter how over the top they may be, should make sense and feel like natural extensions of the letterforms.” In Progress, Jessica Hische [Chronicle 2015] p48
As a photo practice, I have been trying – with moderate success – to haul out my big camera for 10 pictures a day. Not 10 decent photos. Not a photo-a-day challenge that will be see by the rest of the world. Just 10 clicks of the shutter. I mess with buttons. I mess with ISO numbers. I take a lot of tree pictures. I take a lot of cat pictures.
Herein follows my totally objective summation of Greg’s first combined driving competition. [25 Years, more pix]
Show Details MTCC & MTPC Schooling Driving Event Percy Warner Park
Franklin, TN
July 16, 2016
Greg & Lyricc
Lyricc is owned by Kate Bushman, Whip Hand Farm, Franklin, TN
Training Single Horse, 2nd of 2.
Training Division, Reserve Champion, 2nd of 5.
Fastest Cones time of the day, 1st of 8. (Bragging rights, no ribbon.)
Dressage Warm-up
Greg: Can I do this?
Lyricc: No.
Greg: What about this?
Lyricc: … um … no.
Greg: How’s this?
Lyricc: Okay.
Test
It wasn’t their best:
It wasn’t their worst:
Greg drove an accurate and consistent test. Remarkably steady. Not remarkably athletic. Undoubtedly Lyricc has done better. Undoubtedly Greg will do better. However, the peanut gallery voted it the best test horse and rider were capable of on the day.
Photo by Gerald Plock
To the fun stuff.
Cones
After a short breather, the cart headed directly over to cones. In a big show, each phase would be its own activity. Today, the schedule was dressage, cones, done.
Course
Like most event horses (and riders, and drivers), Lyricc would rather be running cones or marathon than prancing about in dressage. Greg had no trouble with horse participation in this phase. They took a long wind-up so that they hit the start line full-tilt. He drove the course the way one should ride a jump-off, always pushing up. They cantered once, which is okay as long as you do not ‘gain an advantage’, in other words, the canter was obviously from exuberance and you come back as soon as you can. He asked for tight turns. Lyric obliged with nifty footwork. They beat everyone, including the Preliminary drivers, who were allowed to canter, if they chose.
Photo by Kate Bushman
Marathon Schooling
After a break, Greg and Lyricc schooled the water obstacle.
Photo by Kate Bushman
Then, I climbed onto the navigator’s perch for a splash-thru and a trot around the field. We’ve taken our first step into a larger world.
Saddle Seat Contributions Drive Time. The tack is different. The cart is different. The class requirements are different. OTOH, you have wheels under your butt and reins in your hands.
Speed. Greg found that the extended trot called for in saddle seat driving – as well as the occasional uncalled-for canter and/or rack – had gotten him
used to going fast in a cart.
A Pop of Color. The pink tie is the first saddle seat outfit I bought [Show Report. Now, I own four shirts, three vests, and three ties. What’s up with that?] We would never have put this particular outfit together if he hadn’t worn it for Alabama Charity [Show Photos]. The hint of pink lightened up the dark outfit, dark horse, dark cart.
Piece of Mind. In between his last lesson and the show, Greg had a great saddle seat driving lesson. I handled it much better than the most recent combined driving lesson [Watching from the Sidelines]. It is easier to watch when things are going well.
Thanks All Around
Thank you to Lyricc, Coach Kate, and the generous volunteers of the Middle Tennessee Carriage Club. Wonderful show.
Huge thank you to whoever arranged the weather. Greg drove dressage during a light drizzle. Cones was overcast. The sun didn’t come out to pound on us until everyone was done. For Tennessee in the summer, you don’t get better than that.
Me, Sam, Ribbon Minions & Coach Courtney at NE GA. Rachel Kelley Photography
Saddle seat folks know how to put the “show” in horse show.
The first time I saw a ribbon presentation and victory pass, I thought, ‘After every class? This is going to add hours.’ Turns out, it doesn’t. It’s quite nifty the way the process is managed.
Winner is announced. Horse and rider make their way to the designed presentation spot, usually in center ring. Trainer or trainer substitute runs into the ring. Horse hits his/her mark. Ribbon & trophy presenters swim alongside. Trainer attracts horse’s attention. Everyone looks at the photographer. Cheese. Done.
Trainer puts ribbon on bridle, on the inside for the desired direction of the victory pass. Wraps one of the streamers around the throatlatch of the bridle to keep ribbon in place. Ribbon may go on rider’s pocket if horse is not fond of fluttery objects. Or, pictured here, sash with a convenient hook-and-loop closure is adjusted around neck. Trainer accepts trophy, as applicable. Horse and rider peel off. Trainer runs back to the end of the long side.
While this is happening, second through the rest of the ribbons are announced. Ribbons are picked up on the way out of the ring. A second presenter does the fly-bys.
By the time the last rider leaves the ring, the winner is rounding the corner and headed down the long side, posting on the “wrong” diagonal in order to be seated when the horse’s inside front leg is down. Makes for a better picture. Rider heads for Trainer, who is waving a towel or shiny trophy. Announcer announces. Photographer photographs. The crowd goes wild.
Winner leaves the ring shortly after the last place horse. Out-gate is closed. In-gate is opened. Next class trots in.
Easy, peasy. I can see a hunter show using this for flat classes.
Over the weekend, I had a chance to sit on a nice horse to try a jumping saddle. Hated it. Not the horse. Not the saddle. I hated how nervous I was about the entire brief experience.
When the owner offered to let me sit in the saddle, I had my usual pre-mount panic. This time, it never went away. The horse did nothing other than walk. The owner assured me that the horse would do nothing other than walk. Didn’t matter. I kept imagining, ‘I don’t know what happened.’ and ‘She’s never done that before.’
Falling is not what occupies my mind at these times. Of course, I don’t want to hit the dirt. I have no more desire to fall off than I do to have a car accident or run up library late fees. What I worry about is being on a horse that loses his/her cool. The feeling of being on a horse who is not connected to reality is hideous, even if nothing dire occurs. (Ask me how I know.) It would be as if I was in a car that suddenly lost brakes & steering. Even if I pulled safely to the side of the road, the experience would rattle me.
Afterward, I wallowed in despair. If I can’t take a perfectly reasonable horse for a simple walk, how will I ever be able to gallop and jump? All I could think of was how this complete failure of nerve on my part indicated the impossibility of the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, which is to ride well. It still distresses me. I can’t see a viable way forward.
Intellectually, I am aware that my brain overreacts. It excels at putting up futures that are technically possible, but wildly exaggerated. Knowing this does nothing to lessen the emotion impact of these futures.
Virtual Brush Box 