Why it's hard to ride my own horse - Part 1

I always tell my clients that it truly is harder to ride your own horse then it is to ride someone else's.  (In fact, I keep threatening to right a book about it).  There's just so much more emotion involved, and they know all your dirty little secrets, and you know theirs.

Which is why I haven't written in a while (but that is about to change... hello blog writing frenzy!).  P just hasn't felt 100% since he slipped doing a trot and lost his hind end.  I had the chiro look at him (which he was out in his pelvis), and he's been getting steadily better, BUT I finally feel like I have my horse back, and the cloud of "blah" that's been following me around is beginning to lift.

Here's the thing.  I know P like the back of my hand, and I ride him differently then I do other horses. The other night, I had to play a bit of a mental game with myself, riding every stride like I would if it were NOT a horse I'd sat on everyday for so many years. And guess what?  He was so much better. 

I've also realized that right now, P needs me to ride him different.  A couple days before his 'slip' I had an amazing Dressage ride on him, but it was probably amazing because I wasn't expecting for it to be so.  Since then I've been a little too demanding, rather then listening.  Finally on Tuesday night I listened to him, and had a fantastic ride.  So what if he needs to be a little longer and forward at the canter to take the contact evenly in both hands... there's over 3 weeks until our next competition, so plenty of time to bring him back up. So what if I need to walk, and walk, and walk, and walk until he's really marching and coming through.  So what if I need to ride Every. Single. Step of the upward transition and restart half way through it for a few tries.

By the end of the ride, I had my soft, free(er) moving, rideable horse and it was wonderful! 

Prophet got a shiner

You know when something dumb happens and you get hurt, and you think "man I wish I had a better story about what happened"... well here's my better story, so that Prophet can maintain his reputation as being nothing short than bad-ass....

There were these huge cougars roaming the woods behind Ted and Prophet's pasture, just waiting on a perfect time to creep out through the fence and pounce on the unsuspecting dogs of the neighborhood. Prophet could sense the cougars and the dogs could not, because, according to him, dogs are way more underdeveloped beings, not capable of such keen instincts. After waiting all day for the cougars to make their move, Prophet decided that he was going in to get them (not to save the dogs, of course, but rather so he could have one more bad-ass-ness point then Ted -- Prophet keeps count, Ted does not care). He put up a good fight, but in the process, got wacked in the face, making for one seriously swollen eye (like, HUGE swollen eye), and some other facial swellings. Not wanting to worry anyone, he casually continued about his day. As he sauntered towards the water trough (that his mom was filling) to get a refreshing drink of cool water, his mother spotted his elephantiasis face and begin to worry. "Don't worry mom, all in a day's work here at 'A Stone's Throw Farm'".

Good enough story to keep his ego intact, you think?

Really, Prophet must have royally pissed of some bees or other stinging creatures. His face looks much better this morning, but last night looked RIDICULOUS. He's on 2 more days of Benadryl, and has forgiven me for icing his face last night with frozen vegetables in a *gasp* plastic bag (if you didn't know, plastic bags are probably going to be what one days brings an end to the world, according to Diddy).

Unfortunately, the whole incident occurred just as the sun went down, so no good blackmail photos could be taken.

"Somewhere behind the rider you've become,

the hours of practice you've put in,

& the coaches who have pushed you,

is the little girl who fell in love with the sport and never looked back.

Ride for her."

When I was a bit younger, I was always intrigued by quotes. I had them clipped out and written and pasted all over the room I happened to be calling home at the time. I could find a quote that pretty much summed up anything in my life, and choose to rely on other people's words to describe was I was experiencing.

I still like quotes, but maybe not to the fanatical level that I did in the past. The above quote though, I think is pretty much amazing.

When I was a working student, I made the decision that I didn't want to be a professional in this crazy horse industry. I saw first hand how the pressure changes the relationship between horse and rider, and I didn't want that strain on my horses. I wanted a career that would support them so riding could be fun!

But now, thanks to my wonderful friends and clients, and AMAZING little horse, I'm realizing I can have my cake and eat it too. Each day, I love that I can help horses be more confident in their jobs, and that I can enjoy my horse just as if he weren't a big, bad eventer.

Last night, I had the words of that quote echoing in my head as I contemplated what to do with Prophet. I wasn't feeling the greatest, and it was getting quite late (I'd had a lesson and grocery shopping to do after work). I needed to do something with the Diddy as he'd had Sunday off, so decided to hop on for a bareback ride around the farm.

As my pony and I wandered around, I realized that all the dandelions had turned and now P and I had a bit of a white fog following us as the seeds floated in the air. We trotted and cantered around, in the near dark, making our own smoke show for a bit, and I got to simply enjoy sitting on this great horse, kind of thankful I can still have those "little girl" moments of happiness.