Of Barrel Racing and Homeless Kittens

30 October 2011 1 Comment

It’s important, with a horse’s first show, to set them up for success.

Which is why, no doubt, Ro is currently writing her Senator and Representative, demanding Things Be Changed.

No, we did not go to the dressage show. I did drop by for the barn’s party/barrel race, however, and pulled Ro out in the middle of it all.

The big bouncy castle didn’t bother her too much (she’s seen those before). The kids bouncing in the castle didn’t bother her too much. She was a little unsettled when they threw a ball in her direction, and I’m not sure if it was the movement of the ball or the sound as it smacked against the net. We hung around until that was no big deal; she wasn’t relaxed, but she wasn’t spooking, either.

She didn’t even seem to notice the ghosts hung in trees or the tape wound around stuff.

The only thing that really, really spooked her was a stroller going over gravel.

And she was very, very unhappy about the horses galloping around in the warmup ring. To be specific: she was unhappy I wasn’t letting her gallop also.

Pony wanted to go.

This is where she was not set up for success: we got a decent rain again a few days ago (yay!) and she has been kept in for the past two nights. The arena was just barely usable last night, so I hacked her at a walk, but that was just enough to get her out and moving—it was not enough to use up all her energy.

Although she threw a temper tantrum or two because horses were galloping and she was not, she did pretty well, all things considered. She settled back down and never completely lost her brain.

And, yes, we trotted the barrels a couple times. She was obedient. And, uh, whooped by just about everyone, including a kid who had a trainer jogging alongside his trotting horse.

We may not have been the fastest, but our circles around the barrels were the prettiest.

I didn’t have any real expectations for this. Overall, I’m pretty happy with her. For the first real show-ish thing we’ve done, she was pretty good. And despite everything going on, she trotted into the ring to do her barrel pattern on a loose rein and listened to me when I asked her to stay slow, even though she clearly (clearly!) wanted to gallop around.

I have a much bigger problem then Ro.

This is my problem:

I lost Pookie late this summer—she was my one-in-a-million, my heart cat, the one who has been there for everything.

And although Onyx has not seemed to mind being an only cat, it turns out I mind that she’s an only cat. She wants to play. A lot. And with Pookie gone, she thinks it’s my responsibility to amuse her.

So I have been considering getting another cat so Onyx can pick on someone else for a change.

Naturally, someone brought along a crate of kittens to the barrel race. I was checking them out, prepared to resist, when someone called across the grounds: “You need another cat!” And without thinking, I yelled back, “Yeah, I kind of do.”

The next thing I know, we’re taping a kitten inside a make-shift cardboard box so I can get her home.

She spent a couple hours in the bathroom, but she yells almost as much as Onyx, so I locked Onyx in the bedroom and let her out to wander around.

The kitten is bold but not too friendly yet. I think she wants to be friendly, but let’s be fair—I took her away from her litter mates, threw her in a box, drove her around, and locked her in a bathroom for hours. She’s not so sure she wants to be friendly with me, and I can’t really blame her for that.

For what it’s worth, I think she’s going to be more than a match for Onyx. I don’t think this kitten is going to take any crap, so once they adjust, I’m hopeful they will be able to keep each other amused. Because the alternative is that I will have two bold, high maintenance, take-over-the-world cats in my house, simultaneously demanding my attention. I think I’d go insane.

Kitten doesn’t have a name yet. I’m calling her Pippa because it would just be rude to call her Pipsqueak, but she probably deserves something better than Pippa. Although Pookie definitely deserved something better than Pookie, and Onyx only deigns to recognize her name because anything is better than “Voodoo” (which is what she came with).

If you have suggestions, let me know. You can’t really tell from the pictures, but she is actually a tortie—mostly gray, but she has minimal tan tortie coloring throughout her coat. And, like I said, bold and expressive.

God help me.

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