The book covers a lot of ground, from basic tack and equipment to riding (dressage, jumping, cross-country) to training the horse. Gaits are covered, as are movements such as leg yield, shoulder in, and turn on the haunches. Typically each section will include both the theory behind a movement and practical details, such as images to illustrate the text or sequential aids to ask for a movement.

A couple points I found interesting because they differ from what I’ve been taught:

One variation of the turn on the haunches is taught as starting from the halt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn on the haunches from the halt; I’ve always seen (and ridden) it from the walk. I assume it’s because the turn on the haunches is easier from the walk (the book does say to have beginners take a step or two forward before beginning) and from a halt you run a greater risk of the horse crossing the hind legs instead of pivoting.

The other major difference from my training is that it suggests teaching the leg yield along the wall (e.g. the horse is at an angle to the wall and then moves down the long side maintaining that angle). I have always been taught (and seen beginners taught) the leg yield from the quarter line to the rail and back (or rail to quarterline and back). Their explanation for starting with the leg yield along the wall is that the rider “can concentrate on his sideways-pushing aids and does not need to use his rein aids so much because the wall is there to help him.”

My experience has been that riders new to the leg yield along the wall have a very difficult time maintaining the correct angle, and they and the horse end up perpendicular to the wall and “stuck.” It is true that when you are leg yielding parallel to the wall you often end up losing the straightness, but it is easier, in my experience, to stop the sideways movement, ride straight for a few steps, and start again at that point. When you are leg yielding along the wall, you have to circle to reestablish the correct angle—the whole exercise becomes disrupted.

This is a book everyone riding English disciplines should read, preferably early in their career. A really ambitious instructor could assign segments of the book to students as homework to solidify concepts introduced during a lesson—this would be especially true when a movement (say leg yielding) is first introduced. (All the instructors there ever were: “Just how much time do you think we have in our day?” Me: “Yeah, ok. Maybe not. But in theory it’s a good idea, right?")

Although they want me to link to them, they are against reciprocal linking “for its limited search engine value.” Gosh, that sounds like no one will benefit from the reciprocal link, right? Wrong. So very wrong. In actuality, the “problem” (from the company’s perspective) is that they will receive far more benefit if they have lots of inbound, non-reciprocal links. They would still benefit from reciprocal links, just not as much. You know who would really benefit from reciprocal links? The bloggers. I suspect that the only “limited” value here is that the bloggers would benefit more from the arrangement than the company, and that would be tragic, as we all know.

Ok, so no reciprocal links. I’m still a money-grubbing capitalist: what am I going to get out of this deal, then?

They offered “a guest Blog post or article written by our SEO-savvy staff - many of whom have a professional writing background.”

Oh my gosh! A real professional writing background! I don’t know anyone… like… that… oh, wait. Me. I’m a professional writer. But maybe that SEO-savvy stuff will be useful. You think? It’s not like my blog posts (or other sites) ever appear in Google’s top ten. Uh, right. Guess I’ll have to pass on the SEO stuff, too.

But there’s an alternative! They will also compensate me for writing a blog post that links to their site. This one made me laugh out loud, and I don’t use that term lightly in this age of “I am typing ‘lol’, but I am actually only humoring your non-funny statement because I like you in an electronic friends-list sort of way.” Didn’t pay-per-post get drummed out of the blogsphere in 2006? No? Really? Fascinating. Even more fascinating: the rate they offered for said post. I’m offended. Ok, I’m not. Like I said, I laughed as soon as I realized they were talking about a pay-per-post situation. But if I had it in me to be offended by drive-by advertising solicitations, that rate would have done it. What is it about the total lack of advertising on my site that screams “offer me your lowest possible rate! I’ll be so enthusiastic to be paid at all that I’ll jump right on it!”

It must be the color scheme. Do you think my shades look desperate?

People, don’t fall for these sorts of offers. The company is going to benefit a whole lot more than you will, and some of the options (e.g. anything smacking of pay-per-post methods) will affect how others view your credibility.

I’m not wholly against advertising, mind you. I’m just against being taken advantage of because someone is assuming I don’t know my own worth. I do. And it ain’t (ahem) per word, I promise you that.

The jumper ring was more interesting.

There were a surprising number of refusals, and the responses ranged from the tactful to yank-the-face-and-boot-the-side of the horse. I have no idea why some of the riders were carrying crops, since they never bothered to use them, and there was one rider that made me want to go thank whoever sent her in to the ring without a crop because her tantrum was ugly (and completely ineffective at teaching the horse anything). I’d have hated to see what she would have done with a crop.

I was also surprised at the entitlement displayed by both riders and trainers. One rider refused out at a fence at the far end of the arena. As she rode towards the in gate, she looped through the scary fences, showing them to her horse. Initially I thought she was just taking a smart path through the jumps on a horse that obviously found the jumps spooky. But when she got near the in gate, instead of exiting, she turned around to keep riding through the jumps. Are you kidding me? How is this appropriate behavior? This is a show, not your personal schooling ring. The announcer had to tell her to get out, and even then she took her time.

Also rude to both the judge and other competitors: the lower-level jumpers who took their sweet time getting to the ring. I lost count of the number of times the announcer asked them to hurry up, until finally the announcer said that if the riders did not enter the ring in a timely fashion, the judge was going to close the card and pin the class. Meanwhile, the last rider to go dismounts and she and her trainer leisurely adjust the saddle. Yes, of course, it’s important to make sure tack fits correctly, and it could have slipped in the warmup. But then the rider mounts and stands at the in gate while she and her trainer discuss the course.

I really wanted the judge to close the class on them.

Look: it’s a jumper ring. You already walked the course. The class has gone SO slowly, with SO MANY long breaks between riders entering the ring that you can’t tell me there wasn’t plenty of warm-up time. This was the last rider on course; she should have already known the course trouble spots and she and her trainer should have had plenty of time to discuss any adjustments to the plan made during the course walk. And even if they hadn’t had time yet, they should have been discussing those adjustments while they were fixing the saddle so that as soon as the rider mounted, she could head in to the ring.

I didn’t watch them warm up, so I don’t know if there was some last minute problem. Maybe the trainer had several riders in the class and horrible time management. But I can tell you, it looks really, really awful from the stands when the announcer is sending increasingly exasperated “hurry up” announcements over the PA and the last team to go are casually adjusting tack and discussing the course with no apparent regard for the show as a whole or the judge.

Overall an interesting day, perhaps more interesting because I didn’t know any of the people involved or the history behind horse/rider combinations. All I had to go on what what I could see, and based on what I saw, if I had been trainer hunting, it would have been very, very easy to distinguish between who I would want to talk to and who I would want to stay away from, no matter how many ribbons that might have had hanging up back by the stalls.

If he’s sound… if I had a truck and trailer… I’d be in so much trouble.

Good thing he’s in Dallas and I have neither a truck nor a trailer. I’d be in a whole lot more trouble if he were nearby.

Must… not… call… owner. Must not. I’m waiting until next spring to buy a horse. Patience is a virtue, and I must uphold my virtues even in the face of pretty chestnuts. Especially in the face of pretty chestnuts.

Someone go buy this horse and remove the temptation, please!

I chose these three of all the options because they were on the USDF “L” judge program’s recommended reading list and they are ones I’ve seen recommended frequently on bulletin boards. Also, Borders had them in stock. Convenient, that.

Of course it’s heartbreaking. What I don’t understand is why people come out in such droves over Eight Belles, or Barbaro, and the rest of the time apparently don’t think about it. Breakdowns happen at the track. Frequently. Go to any website of any organization that deals with rehoming TBs and look at how many of those horses are injured at age three and four. Fortunately for most of them, the injuries aren’t catastrophic, but that doesn’t mean catastrophic injuries don’t happen. They do.

I just get so frustrated with the “oh god, this particular horse got injured, and now I’m going to get up in arms over racing because now I remember all the evil things about racing that I’ve been trying to forget, and now I’m boycotting racing forever” attitude that comes out at times like this.

And then in a year or two, I bet most of these people will be back to watching racing. You know why I think this? Because half the comments are “I watched Ruffian, and said I wouldn’t watch racing ever again. Then I watched Go For Wand and said I was through with racing. Then the same thing with Barbaro. And now Eight Belles is gone. And this time, I really mean it! This time, I’m boycotting racing forever!” Yeah, right. I’m too cynical to believe that.

I suspect that one of the reasons the racing injury goes on much as it has before is that experience has shown that all the churning fury will die down, and in a couple years people will be back watching, cheering on the favorite of the day, and betting again.

And what I love most, I guess, are the people saying, “I’m going to donate money to such-and-such rescue organization in Eight Belle’s name. That’ll show the racing industry!” Show them what, exactly? I think it’s a great thing to do—I think if Eight Belle’s connections find out about money being donated in their filly’s name, they’ll be extremely touched. I think helping legitimate rescues is always a good idea. Donating to a rescue is not, however, going to do a thing to change the problems at the heart of the racing industry.

Clearly, I’m a cold and callous person, because I have not been bawling my eyes out over Eight Belles. Since I didn’t pay attention to the media hype pre-Derby, I didn’t know a filly was even running in it. Had no idea who the favorite was. Didn’t even know it was happening this weekend. I don’t feel her death is any more tragic than any other Thoroughbred’s death on the track. I think it was just more public.

The real tragedy, as far as I’m concerned, is that all the froth and bubbling angst surrounding her death is going to turn out, as it has before, to have no substance underneath. People will donate to some rescues, sign some petitions, and wait for the next tragedy to come along so they can wring their hands and wonder why the racing industry hasn’t changed. 

So now I can understand the progression. One of the first lateral moves you teach to horses and riders is the leg yield, because you don’t have to worry about collection. You’re establishing the idea that it’s possible to move both forward and sideways. Then you refine that with the shoulder in and renvers, where you’re moving part of the horse’s body laterally (vs. the whole body movement of the leg yield). But for a shoulder in to really work, you also have to teach a degree of collection—the horse has to rock back on his hind end and push from behind, otherwise you’re just yanking his shoulders off the rail with the rein and you’re not going anywhere. And then—well, you can see in the video that they use the shoulder in to establish the correct bend, and then ask for sideways movement as well as forward movement in the half pass. To get that movement, you need an even greater degree of collection.

So that last post I had on this issue, about the bend of the horse, isn’t quite right. It’s not the bend in and of itself that makes the half pass more difficult—it’s the degree of collection required. Watch some YouTube videos of leg yields, and then watch some of the half pass. I found it especially helpful to watch the outside hind. There’s a significant, obvious difference in the degree of strength and engagement required for the half pass, and that’s going to come from the horse being able to collect.

I asked about the leg yield vs. half pass in my lesson today, and we ended up working on them for the whole lesson. Then I came home and watched YouTube videos. Amazing how that helps clarify things.

So, here’s a question for everyone: just how responsible are we, really, for our animals? I think we all realize people will answer with anything from “OMG! I bred this baby myself so her mother could experience the joys of motherhood and I’ll never, ever sell her because selling animals is cruel and no one can take care of her like I can!” to “Horse, meet auction house. Have a nice day!”

Notwithstanding the fact that I’m a little too close for comfort to the first example with regards to my cat, I think both extremes are a little nuts. If a person and an animal (any animal) genuinely do not suit each other, I think it’s unreasonable to expect the person to assume complete responsibility for the animal for the rest of its life. Find it another, more suitable home. On the other hand: dropping a horse off at a low-end auction is not finding another, more suitable home.

People who insist all horse selling is evil mystify me. Where do they get their horses, then? And then they won’t sell their horses; they will only send them out on leases. Except they won’t, really, because all leases go bad and the horse gets hurt. At least, if you believe anything you read on an internet forum, they do. (And if you believe what you read on internet forums, let me talk to you about this bridge I have for sale.)

I don’t have a problem with buying and selling horses. I honestly don’t care why a person feels the need to sell their horse, as long as they take the time to ensure the horse is going to a good home.

But here’s a question for you: what if you sell a horse to a good home, and in a few years the owner is ready to step up to a more complicated horse. The horse is sold on to another home, where it packs around a beginner. Then the horse is sold to what is supposed to be a retirement home, but after a while the retirement home is tired of feeding a horse they can’t ride, and the horse ends up at an auction. Who’s responsible for that?

I know there are people who will castigate every single owner the horse has ever had, blaming every single one of them for the horse being at the auction. Which is nonsense, as far as I’m concerned. The only one responsible for the horse being at the auction is the person who put them there, and, maybe, if that person has a history of actions like that, the owner who sold the horse to them—they should have checked references better.

But what about all those previous owners—are they now responsible for going to the auction and picking up the horse?

Me? I’m a bleeding heart and I’d go if it were at all possible, even if it meant all I could do for the horse was give him a dignified end. For what it’s worth, I am on the retirement list for a horse I rode in college—didn’t even own her, but Project Pony helped me through some tough situations, so if I get a phone call saying they need a home for her, I’ll move hell and high water to give her one.

Would I get up in arms against every former owner of an auction horse who didn’t show up to buy the horse? I don’t know about that. I mean, who is the most responsible, then: the person who bred the horse, the first owner who had him at the peak of his career, the one who had him as a packer? The retirement home that copped out? Trying to figure out who I should blame and how much blame they should get is exhausting, and this is a completely hypothetical situation.

Yes, ultimately I think one of them should do the right thing, but I’m not going to blame them for the horse being there in the first place. Which is another way of saying I think you can sell a horse responsibly, and if you find out down the line that the horse ended up in a bad situation, you can choose to take responsibility for the horse again—but you are not responsible for someone else being a jerk and doing the wrong thing.

I have a feeling that’s not going to be a popular statement, so let’s have it: where do you stand?

Then Lynda invited me out to her barn (and gosh her horses are cute), and a lovely family there let me ride their very sweet horse, and… obviously I wasn’t waiting months to start lessons after that.

You know the best part? All the pain issues I was dealing with in the frozen north are gone. I knew the cold was a contributing factor, but I didn’t realize how much of a factor it was. Sure, I had the expected “Hi, remember us? We’re your thigh muscles” soreness, but not the “Take four Aleve and hope for the best” pain I was dealing with after every day at the barn up north. I think this climate is going to be great for me. (Never mind about the heat and humidity that are just around the corner. I’m ignoring them. La la la la!)

At any rate, I think I’m pretty much moved in and settled down. My living room still looks like someone tried to build a cardboard maze in it, but my cat seems to like having places to hide, so who am I to argue?

Edited to add:

I forgot to mention: Lynda’s running a new blog carnival since the Horse Lovers Blog Carnival seems to be on hold.

Details here (scroll down)

and

Submit here

Sure, that GPS thingy my family bought me for Christmas will probably be very helpful. Eventually. At the moment, it’s just confused. I asked it to get me from the airport to my hotel, and it apparently thinks I’m still in the far north, because it tried to route me through North Dakota. And of course I didn’t have a map on hand, because I was counting on the GPS thingy to work. I bought an overpriced map at the first gas station I found. I bet that gas station makes a fortune on selling maps to idiots (like me) who get on a plane without once thinking “maybe I should have backup directions to the hotel… just in case.”

The city WANTS you to violate the EZ pass lane restrictions

Maybe it was my jet lag, but I swear the non-EZ pass/change given lanes were NEVER where the signs said they would be. Fortunately traffic was light and I was able to get into the correct lane without any problems, but good grief—what if it had been busy? (Actually, if it had been busy, my rental car has an EZ pass thingy in it, but the rental company wants to charge me $2.00 for each use. Forget that.)

The U-turn lanes on Highway 10 are the coolest thing ever

I don’t know why these things are so fascinating to me, but I’m endlessly amused every time I use one.

Anyway. I still have to deal with finding an apartment and getting settled in to work, so who knows when this blog will get back to normal. Lynda, I’ll be in touch soon.

I will know I’ve arrived when I’ve spent an hour in the saddle without having to wear six thousand layers of clothing.

Don’t mind my silent blog over the next few weeks while I try to get out of here and settle in there. You’ll just have to amuse yourselves by placing bets on how long it takes me to turn into a puddle on the sidewalk. My money’s on it happening within ten feet of the airport doors. Better a puddle than a popsicle, though!

We are almost certainly bound to get another couple of snow storms before it all goes away, but who cares? It’s warm now, and that’s good enough for me.

(I can practically see the expressions of disbelief that anyone would celebrate 40 degrees as warm. It’s all relative, I tell you. After months of sub-zero and single digit temps, this is practically heaven. Add thirty degrees to your current temperature. See? Big difference.)

Now that I’m all warmed up and am over the novelty of warmer weather, maybe I’ll get caught up on everything in the blog sphere I’ve been letting slide… or not. It’s warm enough I can start riding again, after all. And that is almost as exciting as the little patch of sidewalk in front of the house.

It would help to know if you are on a hosted version of the platform or run your own installation, because I think the ability to modify ping servers may be different for each.

I do not know where you would find the ping servers listed for your platform. Probably somewhere under the “Publish” section or else in the Settings/Preferences.

(My software has the ability to accept pings, if you’re wondering, but there’s no point in pursuing that option if one or more of the major blog platforms don’t let people add their own ping servers.)

(Not coincidentally, I’m sure, the link to Amazon.com was a referrer link. So someone was clearly hoping to make some money off this.)

Step 2:
Measure a Kentucky Derby horse from hoof to withers as a way to identify a thoroughbred. A full-grown thoroughbred that can qualify for the Kentucky Derby ranges from 58 to 64 inches tall, with the shoulder blades as the high point.

(There so, so much that could be said...)

Step 3:
Separate horse breeds eligible for the Kentucky Derby by looking at markings and spots above the hooves. A series of white spots along all four legs instead of a solid white leg indicates an attempt to play around with genetics to create a unique coat.

(Say it with me, now: pinfiring.)

Step 4:
Look at the hair on top of a horse’s head as you try to identify breeds at the Kentucky Derby. A cowlick or a lack of fine hairs between the ears can narrow the potential bloodlines of a thoroughbred when added to other characteristics.

(I almost want to go out and research and see if it’s true that certain bloodlines are predisposed to cowlicks. That would be awesome.)

Step 5:
Stare at the face of a Kentucky Derby horse to see facial patterns that can separate breeds. A thoroughbred that has been sired by a registered stallion will not have a bald face, which is a white face set against the natural coat color.

(It’s not enough to glance casually, you understand. Stare. Stare!)

Step 6:
Watch the personality of a horse at practice before the Kentucky Derby to identify proper breeds. The breeds allowed in the Kentucky Derby are considered hot, which indicates a willingness to compete and exercise to the point of over-enthusiasm.

(Because, you know, anyone NOT allowed in the Kentucky Derby would still be out practicing with all them other horses right before. So if you see one of them imposters, make sure you report it, ok?)

Step 7:
Pet horses competing in qualifying events for the Kentucky Derby to evaluate muscle tone. The strict breeding and training of thoroughbreds over the last 2 centuries has given most racehorses well-defined hindquarters and necks.

(I just bet the owners are going to let you pet their horses. Go on, try it. I’ll be the one back here laughing at you.)

Step 8:
Glance over the entire body of a competitive thoroughbred to look at the purity of the coat color. Thoroughbreds with clean bloodlines will have pure gray, brown or black coats, without changes in hues from hindquarters to withers.

(’Cuz all gray horses are uniformly gray. And there’s no such thing as a bay thoroughbred. Or, apparently, a chestnut. Or a horse with dapples. Throw them horses with dapples right out of the race! Imposters!)