In which we rise from the dead
You might have heard that we had a wee bit of rain.
That, plus work, has meant that we haven’t ridden a lot over the past few months. However, I am happy to say that the rides we have had have been outstanding. Fin and I are really coming together as a pair; he’s past the green-green stage and feels much more confident in himself and his job; at the same time, I have become much more confident and comfortable riding him. It’s all good stuff.
In part, this is because I’ve really started to believe (and not just pay lip service) to the fact that while he may be like a four year old boy who wants to explore EVERYTHING. ALL. THE. TIME., there’s not a mean bone in his body.
Foal is in the paddock next to the ring, running around? Fin may twist his neck around in ways physics rightly shouldn’t allow so he can watch the foal, but he’s not going to pull anything besides some ADD moments that I am more than capable of riding through. And, at this point, laughing through.
Or take the day I hopped on bareback, while wearing my work clothes and rubber wellies. I’d had a bad day at work and just wanted to toodle around for ten minutes. Fin hadn’t been ridden in a week. The fact that I knew I could do that? Awesome. The fact that he marched around for five minutes checking everything out, then lurched to a halt, peered around at me, and gave me a dubious look that very clearly said “This is not how we roll when we ride. You forgot your saddle, your clothes are inappropriate, and those boots. I can’t even talk about those boots. You go sort yourself out; I’ll wait here. Or maybe over there, eating some grass. I’ll wait near here, ok? Trust me. You need help. Go find it.”
Or the day I led him out for a lesson to find that they were mowing/weed whacking the ditches by the ring. I know at some barns that would never be done, but at this barn… we all pretty much agree that horses and riders need to learn to cope with these things and not be isolated from them. So it’s not like he is spooky about that stuff… it’s just something for him to look at. And look at. And look at some more. Did I mention he can contort his neck in ways that defy physics?
But if that weren’t enough, a small Working Equitation course had been set up next to the ring as well. There was new STUFF to look at, and some of it had waving flags at the top. I figured I’d have to work hard to keep him between my aids, but it turned out that he was completely unfazed by all the new stuff. If anything, he was disappointed that I wouldn’t let him eat the flags.
I’ll take a gumby neck and a desire to walk up and eat new, “scary” things any day over a horse that wants to exit stage left. He finds the world horribly exciting and wants to check EVERYTHING out, and who can blame him for that?
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