Horses & Other Interests
Checked out a new style of show yesterday. Trail + Cross-country + Agility = Obstacle Challenge.
A few of the Obstacles:
Rodney can so DO this. OTOH, yesterday’s competitors where western horses or Paso Finos. I’ll have to make sure the table is heavyweight rated before Rodney climbs on.
Have you ever Obstacled?
Previous Dog posts:
Barn Dogs
Going To The Dogs
Have you ever met a Mini?
Yesterday’s discussion of outhouses [Checklist] brought to mind a wedding story. The bride was a collateral relation and an avid rider. The guests where split between non-riding family members & horse folks. The reception took place at her parents’s house, a lovely old mansion that did not have the plumbing to withstand hundreds of fannies. So they rented Porta Potties. On the order of 4 PaPs for, maybe, 150 people for 4 hours. The blue huts were the kind with running water where you could wash your hands.
The NRFM’s were APPALLED that they were being asked to use outdoor facilities. The horse folks thought, ‘Wow, classy toilets’.
(Clip art courtesy of Clipart Graphics)
Update: Correction. I have since learned that the house was not old. It was a lovely, young mansion. The problem was water pressure for that many guests. Also, NRFM = non-riding family members. I’m trying to get better about flinging initials hither and yon. Harder to read and no point in text this short. Too many years DC, I guess. By the way, people are still appalled, just not in all caps anymore. October 2022.
Prodded in the buttocks by a comment from Cowgirliz [Never Settle], today I visited a barn that offers Western lessons. Western comes with less baggage. I don’t know anyone in that world and have no ambitions in that direction. Of course, there exists the mathematical possibility that I will meet my equine soulmate, become the next Stacy Westfall, and make the US Team in Reining. Who says I don't have the imagination to write fiction?
Possible Point Earners
Perimeter fence. If all goes bad, the horses ain’t going anywhere.
Coiled hoses. So simple, so much neater.
Aisles that are swept/raked but not compulsively so.
Neat feed room.
Stall condition relative to time of day.
Airy barn.
An inverse fly/point ratio.
Miscellaneous junk – there is alway misc. junk – stored out of the way.
Fencing philosophy. No fence is perfect. The choice says how the barn balances the safety x cost x maintenance equation.
Big, grassy fields. Extra points for big, grassy fields that are being used.
Run-in sheds.
Salt blocks.
Picnic tables. Socializing is expected.
Adult riders for potential friends, unless this is an indication of a Serious Barn
& #1
Condition of the horses, physically & mentally. Ask the residents. They’ll tell you.
Meh
Dump. The barn I grew up in was an epic dump. The horses loved it. I loved it.
Restroom vs. outhouse. Poop is poop. (Which reminds me of a story….)
Live in manager/owner. A trade-off of increased supervision vs being less amused by odd hours.
Viewing areas, mahogany stall doors, heated indoor rings. The fancier the place, more I wonder who comes first, horse or human.
Helmets. Given my yapping on the subject [sidebar, Helmet Evangelism], you might think this would be a dealbreaker. But no. I have no children to example set. If the folks at a given barn do not feel that their heads are worth protecting that is not going to stop me from riding there – wearing my helmet.
Ribbon displays. Go to enough shows & eventually anyone can accumulate a wall of ribbons. Now, if the ribbons are big, fluffy blue ones that say Ledyard, Radnor, WIHS, that will give the points meter a spin
Result
A friendly-feeling, casual barn. Horses looked happy. No one home. Left card. No progress, but at least action.
How do you evaluate a new barn?
The optimist in us says that Mathilda is getting stronger. The pessimist points to her weight, wonders about her age, and questions the rosy-coloredness of our glasses. Either way, she is on stall rest/hand-grazing during the day while Rodney is out. At night, they swap & we let her move about at will. While Rodney has adjusted to a stall for long periods, she stiffens up. Hence the multiple grazing breaks. Having conclusively proven that she cannot be trusted to behave herself in company, I get to chaperon.
It’s easy duty. She eats. I hold the leadrope. She wanders. I follow. I read light but engaging books (Mercedes Lackey, Elmore Leonard). If he wanders too close, I give him the hairy eyeball. When she’s tired, I drag her back to the barn. The only physical effort is gentle walking and watching out for fire ant hills. And yet, I am exhausted. My two pairs of wonder boots help (Wellies & Red Wings [Thank You, Needful Extravagance]), but after a total of 4 hours grazing yesterday all I wanted to do in the evening was collapse into my chair and whine about my feet.
How long have you ever had to graze a horse?
Virtual Brush Box 