Show Report: Dixie Cup, GIHP

GIHP covered

I suppose I should have felt heartless scampering off to a horse show so soon after our terrible day [Sad News]. I didn’t. I mostly felt relieved to not be sitting at home staring at the walls. When Chief Minion wasn’t at work, he brooded alone. He prefers to – as inexplicable as this is to me. I was still sad. I was going to be sad wherever I was. I kept playing back images from Friday. I couldn’t help it. It was like having a constant scream in my head that I tried to ignore. I didn’t cry. I don’t think I had any tears left. When I got gloomy, I’d wallow for awhile and then go off to take pictures or go watch the horse show.

So, I’m glad I went, eventhough I failed to cover myself with glory.

Update: (I forgot this bit.) The Dixie Cup Spring Classic, May 1-3, 2014, Georgia International Horse Park, Conyers, GA. I rode Saturday afternoon in the Academy division. Last year: Show Report.

301 SHOWMANSHIP WTC – ADULT – Second of 2

Eye of the Tiger
Eye of the Tiger

Maggie had hopped about in her previous class. There was some thought that she might be wound up. As it turned out, she behaved just fine. A bit strong, but that’s normal for her. However, when I am thinking about the horse rather than myself, particularly if I’m trying to keep the lid on, I revert to hunter. [Boot Camp Battle]

302 EQUITATION WTC – ADULT – Second of 2
Now that I knew my horse was with me, I tried to sit up/sit back. I really did. The trotting and cantering phases lasted longer than in the first class. I assume because the judge had a harder time distinguishing between us. I still lost, but at least I gave the winner more of a run.

317 WALK-TROT-CANTER EQUITATION CH – Fifth of 5
It would be comforting to blame my poor performance on the distractions of the weekend. Alas, I cannot. I suffered an excess of zeal rather than a lack. For example, on the last trot pass, I cranked Maggie up and we flew down the long side of the arena. I felt mighty spiffy. From the outside, however, it is possible that we looked alarming rather than exciting.

Even the most dynamic Saddlebred gait is a contained fire. I get the fire. Not so good at the contained.

Three last places. My first show without a victory pass.

Casey McBride Photography
The Dixie Cup > MAY 03, SATURDAY > AFTERNOON. I haven’t looked. Given the number and ferocity of corrections yelled at me from the sidelines, I don’t dare.

Heading Home
For the first third of the drive, my inner child stomped her feet, stuck out her tongue, and said, ‘I never really wanted to ride Saddlebreds in the first place. So there. Nyeh!’ Turns out my inner child is a brat.

That sequed smoothly into
I can’t ride saddle seat ->
I can’t ride any seat ->
All those trot ribbons were a fluke ->
Why go to the next show? I’ll just screw up again ->
I’m a horrible human being.

At The Barn
My coach has a theory. When I got to the barn, she told me she had been thinking about my rides. ‘I’ll bet you have’ says I to myself. I flinched in dread of what she had to say. She reassured me that it wasn’t bad, that it might even make sense to me:

“Our canter is different than yours.”

The saddle seat canter is very gathered. I know this. I can do this in lessons. However, she posits that as soon as I storm into a show ring, my eyes glaze over and I’m looking for the next jump. Apparently, I look perfectly capable, I can clearly ride, it’s just that my position is not at all correct – for saddle seat.

It changes the interior landscape to think, ‘I can’t do X because I’m good at Y.’ versus, ‘I can’t do X because I’m a raging incompetent.’

Competitive? Moi?

Maggie gets her pre-show pedicure.
Maggie gets her pre-show pedicure.

Sad News

The weekend’s show report will be delayed one day. I have a rainbow bridge announcement. Last Friday, Mathilda had one mechanical failure too many.

At breakfast, she had once again lain down and gotten stuck. When we got her up, it was obvious she had hurt her shoulder. With three wonky legs, she was unable to maintain her balance and collapsed. Even if we could have bodily lifted her to her feet, she would have need bute &/or banamine for muscle aches and to prevent colic. This would have lead to appetite suppression and the loss of weight she could not spare. The minions had run out of miracles. Vet was called.

Unfortunately, the clinic had several crises that morning, necessitating a wait of several hours. At this point she was out in the pasture. We stayed with her, sitting by her head, doing what we could to keep her cool and shaded. When she got uncomfortable, we rolled her over, putting blankets underneath for cushioning. Tears were shed.

We wanted the vet to hurry up and yet dreaded his arrival. When he saw that she had been down since we first called, he ramped up to give us The Speech. We cut him off. We already knew the right thing to do. We hated it, but it was correct.

The vet came and went. The man with the backhoe came and went. Mathilda was buried with her feed bucket, her booties, half a dozen carrots, and a double handful of horse cookies.

Yes, I went to the show that weekend. As soon as our duties were over, Chief Minion headed to work. I packed the car and headed to the show. Getting off the property seemed a good idea to both of us.

Rodney now lives out 24/7. Previously, he had been in his stall either to give Mathilda run of the pasture or to keep her company at night. On Friday, we brought him out to look and sniff. He spooked a little and then grazed by where she lay. He appears to be adjusting to life as a single horse. He certainly misses access to her leftover feed, special hay, & treats. He looks to us for company. But, so far, no running about or hysteria.

Side note: In the beginning stages of waiting for the vet, although unable to rise to her feet, the daft cow would roll partial up, grab a bite of grass and then flop back down. This is why I call … called … her names.

Mathilda, we miss you.

Rhyme & Mathilda
Rhyme & Mathilda

I Beg to Differ, A Guest Post

This thoughtful commentary arrived in my inbox from a reader by the name of Louise Swan. Welcome Louise:

In her post, Old Age Arrives, Katherine bemoans the onset of her “old age”. One reply commented that the senior discounts are “the only time growing old has an advantage.”

[Not ‘bemoans’ as much as ‘amused by’. I’ve never been uptight about my age nor my weight. I have many screaming monkeys in my head. Those are not two of them. End digression. RS]

I beg to differ.

Speaking for myself, and only for myself, the accumulated years of my life have brought me:

A strong sense of who I am. Gone are the days of wondering what I will be when I grow up. Gone are the worries of wondering what life will bring. To paraphrase a favorite hymn: Grace has brought me thus far and Grace will bring me home. If I can survive what I have so far, I’ll probable manage the rest. Not necessarily easily but I’ll manage.

A change of focus. Less concerned about leaving my mark on the world, I am now pondering the mark the world has made on me. What will I keep as I move on and what will I release. Getting rid of clutter, both spiritual/emotional/mental clutter and physical. Stripping down to what I really need so that there is plenty of space for what I want, whatever that turns out to be from day to day.

More time. With the gotta-gottas gone, there is more time to savor the really beautiful details of the now. The colors, the flavors, the sounds. A cardinal pair. Dark chocolate. A hug.

A return to old passions. With time now, I can do the things I’ve always wished I had time to do. Books. Try recipes. Books. New and old knitting patterns. Books. Not new activities but a fresh look at the them and time to try new ways of doing them and or just doing them more.

A deeper sense of friendship. From a song I learned in Girl Scouts, “Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold.” My greatest wealth is my friends, including these who are my family both by marriage and by birth. Knowing I have a support system empowers me to grow, to learn, to be more me.

A better understanding of my body and how it works. Any why it doesn’t work when I ignore the signals.

Contentment with my accomplishments and forgiveness for my “failures” for both have helped shape me. The “failures” have always been turning points and a redirection of my life. I wouldn’t be where I am now without them.

Thank you for listening. There’s more but that’s enough for now.
_______________________________________________
Gratuitous Antique Cat Photo

L cats May 5 2014 2

The image is an old advertising sign for Corticelli Spool Silk. They are our official office cats.

At The Horse Show

Show today.

Dixie Cup 2013. Casey McBride Photography. Used with permission.
Dixie Cup 2013.
Casey McBride Photography. Used with permission.

Last year, this was my 3rd big show. Still wearing borrowed duds.

Or, perhaps you prefer the informal version:

Photo by Kathie Mautner
Photo by Kathie Mautner

Originally appeared in Been There, Done That: And the Beat Goes On …

For the record, my security guard & his team are at home, so the crazy fringe of the Internet does not need to see my show tweets as an invitation to loot an empty house.