Continuing to repost the entries from my previous monthly blogs Back To Eventing and Back To Riding. This was originally posted on the USEA website 2011-01-18, archived here.
Future me: This when the rot set in. In truth, the rot set in gradually. This is where I acknowledge it. Up side: this is the beginning of Jean Abernethy’s brilliant illustrations. The one below appeared with the original post, but got lost on the way to the archives.
Back To Eventing: Back to Square One
(The author despairs that she will ever return to Eventing.)
“We have a long-standing joke that when a horse is going well, it’s because it’s being well ridden, but when it’s going badly, it’s because it’s not being fed properly.”
Our mad dash to victory has taken a detour. When New Horse arrived, I knew there would be issues. He is big-strided and responsive. I had spent the last handful of years puttering about on a retiree. I did not imagine that we would saddle up and start showing. I did expect that by now we would be having regular dressage and jumping lessons and be shipping to cross-country courses for schooling. Instead, we are lunging and doing hillwork in hand. The reason we are so far behind the curve arrived in a bag of feed.
New Horse was on a feed not available where we are. What to switch to? Other Horse (future me: OH=Mathilda) is low-maintenance yard art who eats a handful of whatever is on offer. Previous Horse ate super-digestible feeds since he inhaled his food to the extent that bits of it passed through whole. New Horse was neither old nor a vacuum, so hubby and I settled on a new feed for sport horses. I’m sure it’s a marvelous feed, if one is conditioning a horse to go Intermediate. For an A.D.D. Thoroughbred, even a handful was too much.
In retrospect, the problem is obvious. At the time, all was fog and frustration. The horse had shown a bit of temper during try-out. Was it this tendency writ large? Was he more horse than I could handle? He has scarring on his back from an injury as a foal. Was this tightening up?
He grew less and less manageable. Sometimes he would spook and then have a come-apart. Sometimes, he’d have one for no reason at all. As long as it was simply an enormous crow-hop in a straight line, I could rally the nerve to kick him forward. When he added the buck and the spin, I had to grab mane, wrestle him to a stop, and hyperventilate for a while. In addition, the fits developed an unhinged quality that shook me a little more each time.
He finally dumped me. As soon as hubby was around to watch and dial 911, I got back on. We had a pleasant, relaxed walk halfway around the ring, whereupon he tripped over an invisible wrinkle in the ground and had a complete cow about it. We walked gingerly back to the mounting block, whereupon I called it quits.
Of course we considered what he was eating. We cut him back to the point that he began to lose weight. Yet he continued to misbehave, even in hand. When we finally blamed the feed itself, we switched him over to the equine equivalent of rice cakes as fast as good horsemanship would allow.
After detox, he is much, much better. Unfortunately, the psychic damage is done. If the poor horse twitches an ear, I assume he’s about to levitate. To rebuild, we are back at Horse 101. He is on lunge-line probation until he walks, trots, and canters to my satisfaction. The hillwork gives us time to get acquainted and to get in shape together.
In celebration of our new beginning, New Horse has been renamed Rodney in honor of jumper rider Rodney Jenkins. Watching Mr. Jenkins and his marvelous horse Idle Dice at Madison Square Garden was a highlight of my Manhattan childhood. Rodney-the-horse will show under the name Perpetual Motion, which is his nature even on a low-excitement feed.
Future me, again: The name Perpetual Motion was never sanctified on a Coggin’s. It did not survive the introduction of his ulcer medication, “Once we finally sorted out his meds, he calmed down – for a relative, Thoroughbred definition of calm – so PM was out.” [Help Me Name My Horse]
Click here to vote for me as blogger of the year.
Thank you!
Photo courtesy of Haynet contest announcement.
Last few days to vote for Haynet’s Blogger of the Year. (Me!) “Voting closes on Monday 8th December with the winner being announced later on that week.” I assume this means Monday at midnight UK time, which means evening in the US. Vote on! Announcement will appear in this space the day after the official announcement. (Paragraph updated.)
Haynet asked for a few words on the content of the blog & why I write it. Here’s what I sent in. It appeared on the Haynet site as Meet A Finalist. (Haynet readers: apologies for the redundancy.):
Before blogging, I never wrote for free. Rodney’s Saga started as a monthly column for a US eventing magazine. After it lost steam, I continued on my own, for reasons that seemed like a good idea at the time. At some point, I became addicted. A touch of obsession is useful for cranking out a daily blog. Tired? Late? Nothing to say? Does. Not. Matter. Must. Write. Post.
Of course, I have Holodeck fantasies of my words going viral. Until then, I enjoy solving the puzzle of what to say each day. Plus the entertainment of reading other horse blogs and making virtual friends. In the comments, I have received useful advice, personal stories, even the occasion kick in the pants.
As for my horses … sigh … I have two fabulous horses. I don’t ride either of them. The blog is my attempt to keep the faith in light of my immediate future as a horse petter.
Maybe the blog will lead to marvelous opportunities, writing or otherwise. Maybe it will just keep me from bouncing off the walls as I wait for my horses to sort themselves out. Either way, good deal.
In the spirit of fairness (and shamed into it by Tails from Provence: Motivation), I present the other 11 finalists:
Rodney’s show name is now officially Start Your Engines. It’s a phrase used at the start of car races. It’s not particularly Rodneyesque, being far too sporty for him. However, I’ve always like it as a theoretical show name [Help].
What the hell. I can always change it next year.
Milton’s show name is Canadian Cold Front, as planned [Meet Milton]. Because he came down from Canada.
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Thank you!
A few days post-show [Report], I went out to visit the horses. The uber-reliable Sam was in a mood: snorting, staring into space, and hopping about. The plan was to graze him for an hour. However, I was done with his nonsense after 50 minutes. So I turned him loose in the ring …
… he rolled …
… he ran about.
After 10 minutes he was done. He stood by the gate saying, Take me back to my stall please.
This is the horse Stepping Stone uses …
… for unknown quantities, “Sam gradually jollied me out of my nerves with his willingness to do as little work as I requested.” [My first lesson: Sam I Am]
… and as a first-time show horse. Photo by Melissa C. My first saddle seat show, two years ago this month [Sorta]. More on this Saturday. (Update: Saturday after next. I’m losing track of my weekends.)
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Click here to vote for me as blogger of the year.
Thank you!
Vet coming to take Coggins tomorrow. Need show name for Rodney. Prize as before, US$25 or equivalent to online book dealer of your choice. I shall reread old entries, but please feel free to weigh in again.
On our way to lunch during the Perry horse show [Report]. I’ve changed into my Fire Hose pants & Red Wing boots. Hair still up from morning classes. (BTW, I recommend pants & boots for comfort & sturdiness. The bow, not so much.)
“Do I contradict myself?
Very well then . . . . I contradict myself;
I am large . . . . I contain multitudes.”
Walt Whitman Song of MyselfLeaves of Grass 1855
Title: As I’ve said before [Fashion Forward], it’s a family misquote. Too late for me to change now.
Update: In the excitement of choosing the exactly the right color for the border, I forgot the caption:
Workboots & Bow
Photo by Mom
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Click here to vote for me as blogger of the year.
Thank you!