Serenity

I'd been fighting a mild case of the flu.  Telling myself that it was just stress I drove out to the farm, worked the dogs before dragging out the horse.  Deciding against any "real" riding, I tossed on the hackamore.  This is what I want to ride Marm (still unnamed) in for pleasure.  I could feel tension fall out of my shoulders as I worked on having the dogs handle being rode in the field with the horse.

Ryder is terrified of the horse, and Diva is determined to work her.  It took some work to get Ryder to even come into the field.  It took more work to keep Diva from Dive Bombing Marm's heels.  Neither dog have had much exposure to horseback riding but I'd love to ride in the grazing reserve with them.  So I took my crabby tummy as an excuse to sit and train.

Fall is one of my favourite seasons.  I love the colours, the dry ground, and the gorgeous sunsets.

Marm in her hackamore outfit.  She's doing ok with it.  I think with some more riding practice she'll do fine.  My goal is to have her riding steady enough that in the winter I can toss it on, and hop on bareback for a jaunt through the snowy fields.

Looooong sunset shadows.  It's been ages since I've seen my horsey shadow.  

Thinking Deep

I've spent a lot of time in the last couple of weeks thinking.  You see, Whiskey is pretty lame.  Gut wrenchingly so.  Her right front is turning in in a bizarre twist.  My farrier and I talked navicular.  We talked about x-rays.  I began to wonder.  When does this become a situation of throwing good money after bad?  When does this become about me and not her?  Mentally and emotionally I held it in my heart to do the right thing and put her down.  I had about made up my mind and I called the vet.

As honey and I sat talking while we ate our evening meal, I spilled out all my fears and worries.  Calmly, not even skipping a beat he told me not to be hasty.  To wait a while and not jump into a decision.  What he didn't do is point out the money I've been pouring into this horse.

The next day I sat with my parents as we ate.  I told them I was worried about Whiskey.  Mom puts a hand on my arm and tells me to give it time.  Dad's brow furrows as we discus the coming winter.  We plan what we can do to make her more comfortable.  The tentative decision becomes one to give her the winter.

I won't lie.  I'm very worried about her handling our tough winters.  I'm the person who has a box with her old faithful dog's ashes.  I can't commit to a place for her to rest.  So she goes where I go.  It would destroy my soul if I couldn't plan Whiskey's final resting place.

I won't lie.  I'd love a baby from her.  A future jumper prospect.  I get it .  It costs more to breed than to buy.  Breeding is a crap shoot.  No guarantee over what you'll end up.  The horse business has no room for sentimental feelings.  Sigh.

No firm decision yet on the breeding front.

Because I sit and I pray that I've made the right decision.  That Whiskey will be okay.

Compliments

This July I started taking Jumping lessons.  When I was younger jumping wasn't something that interested me.  I far preferred to do pattern work and dressage type stuff.  In short, I'm a jumping novice.  I've taken a handful of jumping lessons over the years.  My instructor at the stable I'm riding at gave me a very nice compliment.  She said the trainer (a very accomplished jumper) thought I was good and wanted to know where I came from.  Jen told her I'd been everywhere.

I've got to admit, when Jen told me this I rolled my eyes and snorted out a "Ya right."  You see, I'm horrifically out of shape.  I can feel my body flop when it should be solid.  Jen insisted.  She said that they could see through my out of shape flops and see the seat I possessed.  She went on to explain that I'm unique in the fact that I have a well rounded background.  It made me think.

When I was young I learned how to ride bareback.  Farmer style.  My mom didn't believe in saddles.  I didn't ride in a saddle until I was 4-H age.  4-H was my first introduction to riding "proper".  It was somewhat surprising to learn one didn't just kick and pull.  I began taking lessons.  For the most part I rode Arabians and competed in the local shows.  I rode in an English saddle and progressed on to some Arabian "A" shows.  I want to be clear.  My family did not have a lot of money and most of my horses were not the reliable school master type.  I literally learned how to ride in the school of hard knocks.  Sometimes I'm astonished that I stuck with it.

As an adult I decided that showing was horribly boring so I began to branch out.  I bought a school master rope horse and learned how to rope.  For the next ten years I immersed myself in the cowboy and rodeo world.  I moved out into ranch and oil country, well away from the commuter acreage area I grew up in.  There I hooked up with (not in the hook up sense - haha), an old cowboy who ran a small ranch complete with a stable.  He was an alcoholic and full of character.  Back in the day he showed and trained reining horses.  Here I learned how to train a rope horse and began schooling in basic reining maneuvers.  This barn became my home away from home.  I shovelled shit and had my pick of horses to ride.  I began "finishing" ranch horses he owned to pay for my board.  I was in horsey heaven.  I also had some pretty huge wrecks complete with hospital visits during this time of my life.  The final hospital visit would prove to be a blow my confidence would never recover from (3rd degree concussion).   I had learned how to start and finish a horse the cowboy way.  My roping was progressing complete with competitions.  We had even tossed around the idea of me riding a horse in the reining class at the Canadian Supreme.  (There was a glorious Palamino stallion called Yeller that was good enough to go.)

At one point the cowboy lifestyle got to me.  I had had enough and I moved home.  Back to civilization.  From this point on I rode purely for pleasure.  I would do various things like take the odd jumping lesson or spend a summer turning back for cutters.  And I still love going out to Ken's and spending the day doing ranch work off a horse.  Pure joy.

Fast forward to now.  Now I'm slightly bored but still highly pressed for time.  I have a horse to play with - Marm - thank you Jesus.  After Marm arrived I had some serious swings in what I wanted to do with my horsey self.  I could not make up my mind.  I want to cut.  No I want to jump.  No I want to show Arabians.  No I want to... you get the idea.  The problem is reality can be a bugger.  What can I realistically do?  What can Marm realistically do?

The outcome?  With the trainers compliment ringing in my ears, (I really do have an eclectic background.), I think I'm going to focus on riding Marm English.  Rationale?  Marm likes being rode with contact.  Loves it. I have access to high caliber trainers and lesson programs close to my house and dad's farm.  And jumping challenges me.  It's hard for me.  It stretches my abilities.

And FYI: Marm needs a new name.  She's not really a Marm and I have a hard time getting it out.  So even though I hate the idea of renaming a horse, a renaming shall occur.  Once I figure out what name actually works for her.