smellshorsey

The Working Student

At 13, Lily's too young to get a summer job, other than babysitting. There are no babies that need sitting in our neighborhood. But something even better has come through -- a neighbor and friend who does competitive driving and dressage needed a working student. So, Lily has a job, a place to go in the morning and she's learning a lot. Right in the neighborhood.

I just hope it's paying off for her employer/teacher. (Lily gets lessons, formal and informal, in exchange for riding horses, doing light chores and having fun at the neighbor's barn. Too good to be true!)

They usually quit around lunch time, which is a good thing because it's 100 degrees today. Lily rode three horses (including Buddy). She looks worn out but happy.

I was so afraid she'd spend the summer in front of the TV, and while she's getting her TV hours in (and has been reading a lot), she's gainfully employed in the morning.

Summer -- I love you!

Preventing a Sore Back in Horses

Now that Buddy's better, we're on a program to prevent his sore back from recurring. Here are the written instructions from our vet:

This is wonderful news!

So now you want to keep a close eye on Buddy, watching for pain to return and catching it before it gets to the bucking/bolting stage.  It would be good to incorporate some strengthening/stretching exercises in his riding.  Your instructor can help you with this- asking him to lift his back, for example: warm up, then either start or finish up the ride with 3 to 5 minutes of "long and low" large serpentines/changes of rein -or- a few ground pole exercises (3-5 poles) -or- trotting or slow cantering uphill in 2-point.  When you get off and groom him, ask him to lift his back several times by running your hand under his midline, then have him stretch his nose down to between his front legs for a treat.  If he begins to get sore again, we can catch it early and modify his training schedule and/or help him out with a little medication.

Isn't our vet great? We love her and hope to see her infrequently.

Lily enjoyed having instructions to follow this morning. Buddy enjoyed getting treats for flexing his neck. And no, he wasn't cussing.

 

Sore Back Leads to Bad Temper

Last week in Lily's lesson Buddy was his evil twin, rushing after jumps, not wanting to transition from the canter to the trot going downhill, and doing some bucking after jumps. It was mostly out of character since (1) it was at the end of a lesson and he was tired and (2) it was mercilessly hot (90s). Who takes off bucking at the end of a lesson in hot weather?

Tori, Lily's new teacher, approached me with concern. "I think Buddy hurts," she said. "He shouldn't object to a downward transition going downhill."

Now, Buddy is a hard one to read. He takes off bucking and farting across the pasture whenever he can think of a reason. Tired of eating grass? Better go gallop, buck and fart. Butterfly landed on the pavement at the high school ten miles away? Better go gallop, buck and fart. So, when he does the same when Lily's riding him, I'm confused. Does he hurt, is he having fun or did she just make him mad?

So we had the vet out. She checked Buddy out thoroughly and decided that he had a sore lower back. She says that happens a lot to horses that canter and jump a lot. She put him on bute and muscle relaxers for a week.

He continued to gallop, buck and fart in the pasture, but this week at his lesson, except for one crow-hop, he was positively angelic. Sorry I was too busy watching to take photos!

The hope is that his back has relaxed and with care won't hurt. I'm pretty good at hoping.

Just wish Buddy could talk and tell us if he's having fun -- or hurting. Or maybe not. He probably cusses like a sailor.

Fun with Extra Friendly Horses

I'm in love with Albert, son of Gilbert. Best of all, Albert's in love with me. I'll explain in a minute.

Jane's farm is so much fun. Here's a photo of Buddy with Jane's six-month-old colt, Albert, from our November visit.

We went out there Saturday to look at a horse that Lily's friend may lease for the summer (and keep here so they can ride together). All of Jane's horses were excessively friendly -- except, of course the one Lily's friend may lease. I would love to show you a good photo of Albert, who's now a yearling, but he was far too friendly to photograph. Or rather, you couldn't get far enough away from him to take his picture. He was like a cat when you're trying to read the newspaper. Wherever you are, that's where he had to be. You want to look at the miniature donkeys? Too bad. Albert's going to stand between you and them. You want to walk across the pasture? You're not going by yourself, not as long as Albert's on the job.

I wanted to bring him home. He didn't allow you to pay attention to anyone but him. Wherever we went, he went, too. We stayed there and scratched and massaged him for about an hour. In return, he offered us lots of love. He was still sorry to see us go. If I ever need to feel loved, I know where to go. Click on the photos to enlarge (except the one of me, which I only include because that is just the funniest horse face -- the one with the blaze). Please notice both the people's and Albert's expressions, especially his eyes and lower lip in the last photo of him.

And then, there was the friendly mini-jackass who stole my camera case. (He was formerly named "Bill" and his mate was named "Hillary," but Jane changed their names when she got them.)

How to Measure Success at a Horse Show or Competition

How do you measure success at a horse show or competition? Everybody wants the blue ribbon. But if you didn't win it, does that mean you lost?

And if you did win it, does that mean you won?

We're trying to take the focus off of ribbons. Some reasons for this are practical. Buddy is the cutest thing on four hooves but he's not fancy. He's nice, even handsome to my eyes, but not fancy. He's extra cute, too, when you get to know him. When competing with fancy, cute doesn't win unless fancy screws up. Fancy does sometimes screw up and cute sometimes performs spectacularly, but you can't count on it. So, unless we win the lottery, Lily will be competing on cute, handsome, unpredictable and full-of-yahoo Buddy. She has won some blues on him, including at his first horse trial last December. They work hard. But so do lots of other kids and horses.

So, how do you measure success other than by ribbons? Several ways. First, set goals for the competition. What's one thing you or your child have been working on, some special challenge? For Lily and Buddy, who went to their second horse trials last weekend (and competed two levels up from what they did last December), the goal was for Buddy to have a good experience and for Lily to have fun. Translation: no refusals and no taking off bucking. And an accurate dressage test for good measure.

I was proud of Lily for her preparations. We'll only foot the bill for one riding lesson a week and she'd had her one lesson last week. She doesn't take dressage lessons, but a neighbor of ours will give her lessons if asked. Lily knew she was weak in dressage, so she arranged a lesson with the dressage-riding neighbor and paid for it herself. That took a big chunk of her available funds, but that's what she wanted. And they worked hard. (Wonderful neighbor!)

So, on Saturday at the horse trials, Lily was first after dressage, turning in a decent ride in a division where she was the youngest rider. (She had also made the extra effort and was the only one who was braided. Really bad braiding, however. Need to work on that.) Her score was 30.

She was riding in the Special Novice division, which was her first timed cross-country ride. Since Buddy gets yahooey and bold, her coach (new -- another story) told her to do lots of transitions from the canter to the trot during cross-country to remind Buddy that he needed to stay focused on his rider, not all the fun he was having. Because Buddy is basically a frat boy all about partying all the time. Cross country? Yahoo!

Lily learned how to work a digital watch with a timer. She wrote the time limits for cross-country in different colors on her bare arm. She wrote the possible time limits at the half-way point in more colors and in more places. She looked like a tattooed WWII sailor. So she seemed really focused on this new aspect of cross-country: the optimum time.

(Photo of walking around before time to go in starting box, click to enlarge.) She and Buddy left the starting box at a beautiful canter and put in a hunter-round-quality performance for the first part of cross-country, the part we could see across the big field leading to the woods. It was perfect. Then she disappeared into the woods. After a while, they came out again at another place. Now Buddy was faster. Buddy's testosterone or something was back (he's a gelding). The blood of his great-grandaddy Swaps, who won the Kentucky Derby and broke several speed records, was stirred up and Buddy was going. (After all, it was Kentucky Derby Saturday). Buddy wasn't wild, though. Buddy was just having fun. The good thing was that he was less likely to refuse in this state of mind. The bad thing was -- well, the bad thing was that he started bucking after an uphill jump. We watched. Lily stayed on, then pulled him to a halt. Whew! Good girl! That's one of the things that she feared would happen. It happened -- and she handled it beautifully.

They cantered on to the bank and other more challenging obstacles. They no longer looked like a hunter round, but bold eventers. Buddy even jumped things that would normally have scared him. Attaboy! Attagirl! And they headed on home but maintained control. Awesome!

All goals achieved. Everybody had fun. No stops. Bucking controlled. Great ride..... Except, the first place holder after dressage -- the one with all the times written in Sharpie marker all over her arms -- had not only put her watch on UPSIDE DOWN, but forgot to check it at the halfway or any other point. And though they were doing a beautiful job in the parts we could see, Lily decided to walk, with some trotting, on the path through the woods.

This may have been a good choice. Maybe Buddy would have been even bolder (and worse) when they came out of the woods. But it would have been nice if she'd at least checked her watch. She had all kinds of time faults, which we didn't know about because the scorer (almost all volunteers are moms and dads whose kids ride at this farm) made a mistake and posted Lily as still in first place after cross-country. Oh well.

Due to parental error (that would be me, speaking of checking your watch), Lily had to rush to show jumping. Her warm up consisted of a fast trot there, and she kept hurrying when they entered the ring. She had quite the cowboy show-jumping ride. No mistaking this for a hunter round. Buddy was bold, she was still hurrying from her rush to the ring, and at one point they were going so fast she had to pull him up before a jump and circle (he would have jumped it -- yahoo!) to get herself organized. The right decision in terms of living a long and happy life. The wrong decision if she didn't want to get faults for a refusal. Still hurrying, she almost came off on a monstrous leap Buddy made over a fan-spread jump, followed by a sharp turn. The crowd gasped. Was she coming off? No! She regained her stirrups and balance and galloped to the next hairpin turn and jump. Wheee! They may have walked through the woods, but they were putting on a show now. When they left the ring, the ringmaster said, "And that was our speed round."

Not pretty. Not the way we had walked it and planned it. That rush to the ring had lost Lily most of her IQ points and whatever recollection she had of walking the course, planning the turns and her approach speeds. But she handled it. And if she'd been given the chance to be there early enough to catch her breath and school, she probably would have ridden it more conservatively and not had to circle before a jump. So I learned something, too. (Wait by the ring because they're going faster than you think -- show jumping was in numerical order and there were no loudspeakers broadcasting the show's progress, so we were eating hot dogs at the trailer when Lily should have been warming up. Excuses, excuses. Lucky not to be disqualified, though Lily did arrive within the time limit. I called later to apologize to the organizer.)

Anyway. When the ribbons were handed out, Lily was in last place. She knew she'd lost points for the stop in show jumping. But she thought she was in first place after cross-country because that's what the posted score said. She didn't know about the monstrous time faults for her pleasant walk through the woods.

Oh well. Score poster error. Not a big deal. It's a friendly event and everybody is just doing their best.

So she went from first to last.  She lost after almost winning. But it was an absolutely fabulous day, filled with success after success after success in all the things that count the most for the future.

I asked her if she wished that she'd signed up for the division that jumped the same course but wasn't timed. "No, Mom. It's just a ribbon. If I hadn't been timed, I wouldn't know I needed to work on that."

Bless her. I'm resisting the urge to go out and buy her a big ribbon, because I think she's a winner.

But we don't measure success in ribbons, so I'll restrain myself. (Photo below from dressage warm up, click to enlarge.)

Some Professional Advice on "To Breed or Not to Breed?"

Thanks for all your comments on "To Breed or Not to Breed?" Breeding a nice mare to a nice stallion and wanting to keep the offspring (assuming said offspring lives, etc.) in spite of what Fugly says has many benefits, ranging from just plain fun to learning about life to, as MiKael pointed out, being allowed to follow your dream. Is there anything more important than that?

So, I called my niece, the horse vet, for professional advice on what to do next and her opinion on the whole project. If I was hoping for an endorsement, perhaps I should have called someone else.

"Oh, Anne! You DON'T want to do that," she said. Her passionate, unequivocally negative response surprised me.

"I don't?" I said, shocked and disappointed.

"Absolutely not. I've seen so many bad horses that were raised by mother-daughter owners. Some of the worst horses I deal with.  Not that you and Lily would necessarily ruin the horse, maybe if you had good professional help you wouldn't, but horses raised as pets in the yard usually don't understand that they are horses," she said. "If it's a male you could geld it and cut off some of those problems, but you'd still have to discipline yourselves to treating it like a horse."

Now, she loves me and knows me. On the plus side, this reaction means she thinks that I'm basically a kind (pushover) person whose existing horses are pets but were, fortunately, raised by someone else. So I'm not insulted even if I am shocked. I do indulge my animals, husband and daughter. And myself. (I'm working on denying myself chocolate.)

But I'd never thought about this pitfall before. "You'd need to treat the foal like a horse, treat it like its mother treats it. Train it and ignore it," she said. But it's so cute! How could we do that? I guess that's her point.

So I said, "What if we got professional help and didn't ruin the horse?" So we talked about who could help us, how it should be done, the perils of pregnancy and birth and the heartbreak that can happen. We talked about the expense and the stallions under consideration.

She said, "I don't think you or Lily could handle it if something went wrong. Bad wrong." She's the one I called when the hamster needed to be euthanized. She's the one who's seen us at our crazy worst with our pets. She has a point. But we're several dead cats and hamsters under the bridge, so to speak. And isn't this part of the learning process about following your dreams? That sometimes bad things happen and you have to take a detour, redirect, redream and try again another way? So I got her to go along with that.

But then we got to the thing that's probably going to stop me. Lily is 13. If we breed Lucy tomorrow and she foals next year, Lily will be 19 before she can start jumping the foal and really using him/her.

Sure, at 19 Lily could still be riding like a fiend and could somehow win enough scholarships to afford to go to college AND take a horse. But there's so much important in life that needs attention at that age. School, college decisions, boys, a social life. Will she still be my horse-loving girl? And if not.....? I guess we could sell the horse. But this isn't part of this dream.

Lily and I discussed the timing of all this, the foal's age and development and while she believes she will be riding and competing at Rolex in the near future -- and I hope she will but think her schedule is too optimistic by a decade or more and is certainly out of our budget -- she understood that she her goals and the foal's maturation rate don't coincide. Yes, she can be riding and training the baby before it's five, but she can't really be asking for hard physical  work.

More thinking to come, but that's today's state of mind.

She hasn't done all that Buddy can do. Or Lucy, either. I think I'm going to get her to sit down with one of her former trainers who competed at Radnor with an affordable QH and understands dreams and finances. Maybe if we set goals for this year, and next year, etc. Lily is a talented, dedicated rider, but doesn't know quite as much as she thinks she does.

This is tough and I don't want her life lesson about horses to be that it's all about the money. I want it to be that if your dream is big enough, you'll find a way.

To Breed or Not to Breed

Lucy's a smart girl. Here she is hoping for something. Food. An adventure. Maybe a boyfriend?

True, she's got Buddy to boss around. But perhaps she'd like somebody more studly. Like a real stud.

Lily has been dying to breed Lucy for several years. And now I wish we'd done it last year. At some point, Lily is going to want something fancier than Buddy. That could be Lucy, since Lucy is a lovely mover (though not fancy fancy). And she is as athletic as a cat, and way too smart. Lucy is 9, I think, and Buddy is 10. Or maybe they're both a year older. Lily is 13.

I don't know if I can or should convince Paul, but I'm looking into some of the studs in our area. Right now the leading contender is a lovely Hanoverian. Lucy is a nicely bred TB mare. I think this would make me a backyard breeder and on Fugly's bad list. Though breeding a registered, nice TB to an approved Hanoverian probably would keep me out of that category, though it still wouldn't mean I know what I'm doing. (I need to quit reading MiKael's blog or looking at all my neighbor's foals.)

My father, who would legitimately be on Fugly's bad side for all the mixed up horses he bred (and took care of and thought they were beautiful and useful, to his credit), said that having foals was one of the most fun things he remembers doing and what's wrong with us for not already having done it?

Paul ain't into extra horses. Vet bills. Random events, like taking a gamble on the gene pool and the birth process. He's also not into paying $$$ for a nice horse after Buddy has taken Lily as far as Buddy can go. So maybe there's hope for talking him into it.

It would be fun to raise a baby. I used to help my father. One of them was a cross between a Tennessee Walking Horse and a five-gaited mare. That horse was like a ten-speed. He could do any gait, though sometimes he got his feet tangled up. I made him walk, trot and canter (only) and taught him to jump. To my eyes he was a handsome thing. Here is one of the only photos I've got. Click to enlarge, if you wish. His name was Snuffy and he was a good sport. Because he was a mixed breed and wasn't at all delicate, he once stepped on a giant nail that went all the way up through his frog and the point stuck out above his pastern. He wasn't even lame. But back to the issue of breeding Lucy.

Lily has been forced to save money in a savings account since third grade that she can one day spend on something she really wants. She says this is what she really wants. I'm afraid the foal won't mature fast enough for her ambitions for it. And what if it's born with three legs? Fugly? Etc.?

I guess that would be a good life lesson.

And if we don't talk Paul into it? Well, there's always trickery. We simply don't know HOW Lucy got pregnant. Somebody must have hopped over the fence.

I would never do that. I don't think.

I Want to Scare the Hel(met) Onto You!

See this helmet? The 12-year-old child (not Lily) who was wearing it walked away with just scratches from a fall where her barrel-racing pony somersaulted over her. WEAR YOUR HELMET.

Lily suffered a concussion when she fell off on Monday, even though she was wearing her helmet (which split and I haven't photographed). Lily could still have bleeding on the brain. We have to continue to watch her closely. And she can't ride again for at least two weeks for fear of re-injury. The doctor told me this today, and then x-rayed her spine, which is "negative."

Thank God her 4-H leaders showed her the film, "Every Time, Every Ride." She always wears a helmet, and made me promise to wear one, too. I'd hate to think what might have happened if she hadn't been wearing one. (You can buy the "Every Time, Every Ride" video here for $15 -- you have to scroll down the page to find it.)

Monday Lily was riding just the kind of ride where you wouldn't necessarily wear a helmet. Just playing around bareback with the horse in the backyard/pasture. It was a light ride to get outside a little after violin concert practice. Then something happened -- and she got a concussion and slammed her spine into the ground.

I'm in shock. If you ride horses, you fall off. Though she seems fine, I wish I'd taken her to the ER immediately. Instead, I first made her (with her agreement) get back up and ride some more (Bad Mom but a True if Stupid Horse Mom) and then I kept an eye on her.

What was I thinking?

I know the doctor thought I was crazy (Bad Mom) when I took Lily in to see him today. He said she had a second-degree concussion. And he told me all the things to worry about, and I'm about caught up on all my worrying.

She had a concussion, doing nothing, riding her own horse in her own yard. Wear a helmet -- always!

If you need more convincing, go scare your pants off (and your helmet on) here.

Yes, we're going to hang the split helmet on the tack room wall as a reminder for when we get overconfident about our mortality. Or worried about our hair.

And if you want more reasons to put on that helmet, go visit Behind the Bit. She's serious but a lot funnier than these other links.

The Fall that Broke Lily's Helmet

I didn't see it happen, so I don't know if Lily had a concussion or not. Yesterday Lily was riding Buddy with nothing but a halter and a leadrope -- just a quick ride because she'd had to stay after school for violin concert practice. It always happens on the quick ride, doesn't it?

She remembers arguing with Buddy over which way they were going. Probably not the best decision for riding with a halter and leadrope. And he got upset and she lost the argument. She landed on her back and cracked the back of her helmet (it was a new International schooling helmet -- the Styrofoam split from the bottom to inside back).

I couldn't decipher what had happened, nor how severely she was injured. Nothing broken but lots of scratches on her back and arms. She was willing to get back on, so she rode him for a little while longer. It was then I realized she was crying.

She was confused. Was that from fright, or a concussion? She was quite upset, she said because she couldn't remember. Was that because it happened quickly, or had she blacked out? She didn't know. I didn't know. She seemed otherwise fine, so I got her into a warm bath and gave her an Advil.

And I watched her. She developed a headache. I looked up "head trauma" in my childcare book. Then I started to worry. I shouldn't have given her the Advil. She hurt -- but more than that, she was upset (this child falls off all the time and is rarely upset). She didn't want to eat, ate a little, and threw up. This was nearly four hours later. At this point, I was ready to go to the ER. (I almost called a dear friend who's a pediatrician in another city but that didn't seem fair, especially since I know her job has been very demanding lately. And I didn't call our pediatrician because they will ALWAYS tell you to go to the ER, I suspect because of potential lawsuits.)

But we didn't go to the ER. Deep down I didn't think there was anything seriously wrong and neither did Paul. But I just wanted to be sure. (When I left the room, Paul told her that if she didn't quit being so melodramatic she was going to end up in the ER because that's where I was headed. I didn't know this until later.) Lily told me she was okay, just tired. I slept with her in case she had convulsions or anything else. She didn't go to school today, and slept for 12 hours.

I'm grateful it wasn't worse. Low-key riding with a halter and leadrope has done a lot to build her confidence and trust with Buddy. Until yesterday. I think the lesson she needs to learn is to pick her battles -- to make sure she's equipped to always win. Or save the fight for another day.

What did I learn? Gratitude -- and fear. And maybe even a sense that I can trust my judgment.

Always, always wear your helmet.

Spring Cleaning

Blogging is light because I've been abducted by a 13-year-old on Spring Break who must be channeling my mother-in-law. We are cleaning and organizing the barn. She'd rather do this than go to the beach!

Stripping the stalls was easy. Now we're re-doing the tack/feed room. Too much stuff. Too little room. Complicated by having to keep my mother's cat, Dipstick, in there at night and he sprays, so we have to ... well, box stuff up and cuss a lot.

Last night we almost decided to evict him and let him find another place to sleep. I'm glad we didn't. The neighbors who were feeding the feral cats left, and it appears that the cats have moved into our hay loft. Tiger and one of them had a monstrous fight last night. I'm sure Lily and I were quite the sight chasing the squalling, tumbling cats through the pasture in our pajamas. We brought Tiger inside and he was so full of rage that he growled the whole time he was eating and we were examining him. He got some scratches. I hope they don't get infected.

Usually Tiger sleeps in the dog bed with the dog on the porch. We have an indoor cat, too.

What to do about the feral cats? If I were smart, I would set traps and haul these cats down to the animal shelter. If I were smart and didn't think I was hauling them to be euthanized. I'll ponder this for a while. It's clear we need to change how we leave the food out.

In the meantime, we're dealing with the too much stuff, too little space dilemma. You never know when you might need something again. A blanket that doesn't fit our current horses might fit one in the future. Ditto bridles, etc.

It will be great to be done. I hope we have a chance to plant flowers and make it pretty. And I'm so thrilled that Lily wants to do this on Spring Break, though I think that she may have been abducted and replaced by an alien.

Lots of riding going on, too.

Lucy's Personal Trainer

I wish I could snap a picture, but if I go outside the horses will stop what they're doing and come to me. Here's what they're doing:

Buddy wants to play (always).

Lucy doesn't (always, which means never).

So Buddy's following Lucy all over the pasture, and she's having to walk fast to stay out of the way of his all-set-to-nip lips and teeth. If she breaks into a trot, he'll break into a canter and deliver the bite. He doesn't care if he gets kicked in the head (that's our problem). So she's walking fast. He stays right behind her. This is fun. Lucy is alpha. But beta boy can bug her and feel like the boss for a little while.

Lucy needs the exercise. My daughter, Lily, is watching them with me through the window. "Look Mom," she says. "Lucy has a personal trainer."

All Dressed Up with No Place to Go

Buddy and Lily need to get out more, so we planned to go yesterday to the next county to school at a lovely, private farm that was open for schooling because of the horse show they were having today. So, after school on Friday Lily polished and bathed Buddy as if they were showing. People would see them. New people. Buddy needed to look his best, and he did. He even got to wear all of his duds in an attempt to keep him clean. (Put on your sunglasses before clicking on photos to enlarge.) Buddy has more clothes than I do, though I'm not sure I envy him on this outfit.

Unfortunately, we had the highest winds of the year yesterday. The weather reporters warned us to tie down anything loose in the yard and cautioned big trucks to watch for winds on the highways (like they could duck or something). Lily's teacher, who was going to give her a lesson at the fancy farm, said it would be a waste of money since they would likely be dealing with a spooky horse rather than working on what they had been working on. I think the word she used was "monster." Yes, Buddy does not like for large objects to fly by. Distracts him. Makes him outrun them.

Lily said she needed to go anyway in case she encountered high winds at an event. She has a point, but at an event she wouldn't be trying to do things she hasn't done before (unless I get dementia). So we cancelled our plans.

Lily was disappointed. Buddy was relieved to get to take that itchy Sleazy off. Lucy was sorry, because she enjoyed taunting him.  If you could read her lips, she'd be saying, "What ARE you wearing, dude?"

And in all the wind and excitement, a tree fell down and crushed the fence. Lucy also turned up in the evening with a hurt place on her sound hind leg. A scrape and a bump. The scrape is fine. I'm puzzled by the bump. She might be slightly off. I'll give her a few days and then call the vet. I hate horses.

Our First Outing in Our New, Used Yukon

I already told you that for Lily's 13th birthday she wanted a new truck and things happily went her way with Paul's car dying and his needing to replace it. It's a burgundy 2005 GMC Yukon that is really not a wise purchase with the price of gas, but Paul and I are switching off with my Prius. Whoever is driving the most that day gets the Prius. Paul is not crazy about the Yukon -- he said he loved his Passat, which he could have continued to love while sitting in it while on the side of the road waiting for help. I haven't figured out how to get into the Yukon gracefully because I'm 5'3" and there's some climbing involved. I think it's kind of fun. Paul says that all he sees when he looks at it is how much he loves his daughter. This will probably be her car when she is old enough to drive and Paul will get to go back to a sedan.

 

This Yukon is great but it really does puzzle me why there are so many on the road. Unless you're pulling a trailer, what are all those non-horse-people doing driving all those Suburbans, Expeditions, Yukons, etc.? A rant for another day.

Lily and I took the Yukon out yesterday to her riding lesson -- our first official trailer-pulling outing. It was amazing.

• Lily was delighted that the passenger door shut on the first try. The door catch on Ben is worn out on all but one cog tooth, so you had to slam Ben's door five or six times for the thingie to rotate around to the one good tooth in order for the door to shut. All doors but the driver's door were just as bad. Ben took a lot of slamming, and sometimes we just gave up and rattled on down the road.
• The left blinker on the trailer worked! Nobody flipped me the bird when I changed lanes.
• When I put on brakes, the trailer didn't go into a skid. Everything just stopped in a reasonable fashion.
• When I saw a friend on a country road, I could roll down the window and say, "Hey! How's your Mama and dem?" and have a conversation. When I was driving Ben, people thought I was unfriendly, but the truth was that the window wouldn't roll down. Or, if it did, it wouldn't roll back up.
• I didn't keep the fire extinguisher in my lap just in case we suddenly burst into flame.

What luxury! Life is good, even at $3.11/gallon.

Other than the button to push that puts it in trailer pulling mode and the radio, I have absolutely no idea how to work this vehicle. I feel sure that I'll be learning how to fill it with gas. Heavens. We really may be eating cat food.

My Daughter and the Horses are Calling the SPCA

(Photo is not me. All my hair is pulled out.) Okay, I've got a new routine going and I'm not in the rhythm yet. Since Paul now has a gas-guzzling, horse-trailer pulling SUV and I've got a gas-sipping Prius and the price of gas is obscene, I'm taking Lily to school MWF, working out at Butterfly Life and sitting down to work at my computer all bathed and dressed, fed and disorganized by 9:00 a.m. I think it's a good routine for everyone. It's just not routine yet.

So yesterday morning I was sitting here at work, all proud of myself for being right on schedule, when I heard Buddy whinnying. Though I had fed him, I forgot to give them hay (not enough blood to my brain after my work out). I quickly corrected the problem and was grateful that I have a very vocal, demanding horse. At least I was grateful that particular time.

And now we've got this big storm system coming through today. It's still in the 60s but will be in the high 40s tonight. We blanket at 55 degrees. It's poured down rain several times. The horses are wet. More storms are coming. It's not cold yet. We could have tornadoes but I think they're going to be most likely north of here.

In the break between storms, I told Lily to feed the horses. We then had the mother-and-13-year-old girl disagreement over whether or not they need to have on blankets. "NO!" I said.

"Will you go out in the middle of the night when the storms are over and it's cold to blanket them?" she asked. Or was it a demand?

"Maybe," I said. I'm not big on going out in the mud in my PJs to blanket wet horses.

She didn't like that answer so she's going to do it now. NO! Etc.

Apparently, I'm a bad horse owner. Y'all please vouch for me when Lily and Buddy both call the SPCA.

By the way, the Trexler's were back in the news today. The authorities discovered 17 more Arabians on property the Trexlers were renting not far from here. These were in better shape and were thought to be intended for sale. Also, they've increased the charges for the son who was the assistant deputy of agriculture to felony charges, which could mean 20 years in jail instead of one.

I'm sick of this story, but it's not over. They've got forensic pathologists checking out the horse bones in one of the Trexler's fields to determine why the horses died.

What a Horse Girl Wants for Her 13th Birthday

Lily turned 13 last week. Her biggest desire is for the means to go places -- to Pony Club, horse shows, trail rides, whatever. So she was dying for a truck and either repainting our trailer or getting a new one. (Note: She's not old enough to drive. Yet.)

Fortunately for her, Paul's Passat died. I could write several pages about our disappointment with Volkswagens. I've driven nothing but VWs since 1979 and have had wonderful experiences driving them until the wheels fell off at 200,000+ miles. I love them! They're fun to drive and economical, too. But the Passats we recently bought were another story. Google VW oil sludge for massive complaints. Mine died last year and we had to sell it for junk, which it was. Paul's was recently diagnosed as having only three months to live, so in spite of being a relatively young car (for us), he had to get something else. (VW has some kind of loophole going where they're not responsible for the oil sludge problem unless you can document all your oil changes and show that you used nothing but synthetic oil. Since they didn't make this announcement until we had had the cars for a few years and didn't keep meticulous records of our oil changes, we were sunk. So we've divorced VW.)

Back to the dilemma. Does Paul get a car and we keep using Ben to pull the trailer? Or does Paul get something that can pull a trailer that he'll drive everyday?

After much angst, deliberation and finally resolve, he bought a two-year-old Yukon. The things you do for love! Now Lily can go places beyond the local farm where she takes her lessons. This was a surprise for her. Paul drove up in it for the first time while Lily was feeding the horses. She dropped everything and came running. I managed to catch a moment or two with my camera. Click on the photos to enlarge.

Because Her Dad Pulled Her to Horse Shows

Today was riding lesson day. It was also the day the National Guard was flying. A pair of F-16s kept roaring over. It's hard to find them in the sky because the sound is one place and the jets are in another. I tried to take a picture with my cell phone. They were too fast and my phone was too slow. It was a strange but beautiful mix of worlds -- girls riding horses on the ground and jets that stop me in my tracks every time I see them streaking up above, which is often.

I trailered Lily and Buddy to a nearby farm for their lesson, and then got to talking to a father of a teenage girl who lives and breathes horses who was there getting ready for a show this weekend.

The conversation started because I wanted to know how he liked his truck because there's a new truck in our future. And he began to tell me about how he wished that his daughter didn't like horses because of all the reasons we know why it's not the easiest or cheapest sport. And the more he talked, the more the truth came out.

First, there were all the reasons that were so well put by a mother in this post. And then he came to something that was pretty special for a father.

Because he pulled her and her horse to horse shows and Pony Club, they got to spend a lot of time together. Because he gave up his weekends and Saturdays so that she could have experiences and memories, those memories will include being with her dad (and mom). And one day, she'll even realize how much trouble it was for them.

Because he was with his daughter at horse shows in nice places, he sometimes got to sneak off and play some golf at courses away from home, so this wasn't all about self-sacrifice. He showed her how he could have fun and still make sure she was doing what she lived to do.

And most of all, because he spent all this time with her doing something as mundane as driving a truck and moving heavy objects and standing by the ring watching things he sometimes didn't even understand, they've grown closer.

They've got a good relationship. And when she goes off to college and beyond, they'll still have a special connection. In telling me all this, he suddenly didn't feel like he'd driven all that many miles. Instead of going far, he had drawn closer to home.

Horses bring us many blessings. Sometimes we just have to know where to look.

How to Take a Photo of Your Horse

When you go to take a photo of your horse, you need to approach it as if you were about to take a group photo of a four-year-old kindergarten class. There are so many moving parts. Ears, eyes, head, neck, legs, tail, unmentionables. Plus you've got the problem of perspective. Take a good photo of the front and the rear looks undersized as it recedes into the distance. And the same is true for shots taken too close to the rear.

Lily got the go-ahead from Pony Club to keep her horse manual even though she's not a member so that when she joins in the fall she'll have the work to show to help her get rated to the next level. Her horse manual needs to have a photo of Buddy.

Yesterday was warm, so she gave him a bath and then I took photos when he dried. Unfortunately, a storm was coming in and the light was dying, so the best photo we got doesn't have the greatest lighting. Here it is (CLICK ON ALL PHOTOS TO ENLARGE):

You have no idea what we went through to get this. So, since today is absolutely gorgeous, Lily wanted to do it over and get a photo where life isn't greyed-over by the coming storm.

I think Buddy was less cooperative today because he's afraid these are "horse for sale" photos. Or he's just tired of the paparazzi. So, first we had to wake him up.

The next problem was that he got a little too relaxed, if you know what I mean. Note Lily's expression. Photo has been edited to keep this blog family-friendly.

Then there's the issue with the feet not being in the right spot.

And we tried plastic bags, jumping around and waving like fools, etc., but here's the best way to get your horse to put his ears forward for a photo:

Part of the problem is he's just so very friendly that he stays in your face, which makes it hard to photograph the entire horse. I quit. She can use the photo from yesterday.

Pony Club

Lily was a member of the United States Pony Club for a couple of years when she was younger. I was also a member when I was a young teenager, though they weren't nearly as organized or picky then. I've written a little about them before here. Pony Club is why we have so many blue buckets.

Lily's 13th birthday is coming up and what she wants most of all is to re-join Pony Club. So I said yes and began the process.

I remember the people from before. They are horse moms who volunteer their time to help kids learn how to ride well and safely. They're concerned about the animal's welfare and teach the children and teenagers how to take the best care of their horses. It really is a wonderful organization filled with nice people and great kids.

But it's a little rigid. I couldn't find out if there was anyway to get Lily's application in fast enough for them to allow her to attend this coming weekend's meeting on horseback. Finally it became clear that I was the only one with a sense of urgency, which is fine because they are volunteers who have a life, too. It's not their fault that we didn't know we were going to re-join Pony Club until last week. Disappointing, though. I would have been glad to pay for FedEx or do whatever, if only somebody would answer my questions and say they'd help.

And though it's been more than two years since Lily was rated, which determines what a child can do at a meeting -- whether she's trotting over a pole over the ground or cantering a 3-foot course -- she'd have to ride with the group that has that low rating. I know, I know. They have their rules and there's a good reason for them. Lily is not too interested in riding at the level she was two years ago, and I'm not too interested in hauling her an hour-and-a-half one-way to a meeting to ride at that level, either.

And, since she's not been an active member, she can't go to the rallies.

Sigh. I can see when I'm whipped. And Lily's quite disappointed.

Maybe she can join next year and get re-rated. Trouble is, the next rating requires an extensive record-keeping history of the horse's condition, care and the money required to support this hobby. Lily's all set to do it and has started. I wonder if it will count since she's keeping the records while not a member?

I'm afraid I know the answer. They don't make it easy to meet the requirements or get the answers, which is a shame.

It's one thing to make the horses jump over fences. It's another to make the moms and kids jump through hoops.

I hope we can work it out in the future. I hate for her to miss out almost as much as I hate beating my head against a wall.

Lucy's Rehab is Messing Up My Hair

I'm supposed to ride Lucy in a straight line (she can't walk in straight lines) on solid but not hard ground at a walk everyday, building up to 20 minutes by this coming Friday.

It's messing up my hair.

Lily's 4-H group did an outstanding job of scaring the bejeebus out of all the kids (and the moms) who watched the safety video about the importance of ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS wearing your helmet. Before this, I only wore my helmet when I jumped.

But Lily made me promise NEVER to ride without a helmet. And because I made that promise, I was wearing a helmet at least twice when I wouldn't have ordinarily and had two bad falls. The second one split the helmet.

I'm still here. And I'm still wearing a helmet.

But all this fuss for a ten-minute ride at the walk? First off, I'm not bothering to put the saddle on for that. So I ride that razor-withered mare bareback. Between her vast belly and the withers, something in/on my anatomy has got to give. I may need hip replacements. But that's all right. As long as Lucy is better.

I can't quite mount her bareback, so I dragged out an old rickety ladder and was surprised and delighted that she walked right up to it, let me climb up it and then climb on her back. What a smart, sensible girl.

Then, one lap around the pasture, she spotted the ladder. And it was scary! She wouldn't walk forward. She snorted. She got all wiggly, tall and tense. She'd just seen the ladder. We'd just used the ladder. But I guess it looked.... different.

I was glad I had on my helmet. But it sure does mess up my hair. I paid Lily to ride Lucy today. It was worth $3 not to have to do a re-do of my do.

Go Visit Lily's Squidoo Page

Groovy is the only person I know who Squidoos, and I don't know much about it though I do remember her saying she got a check, which is always a way to get my attention.

Lily asked if she could start a blog and I said she could as long as she kept herself anonymous. The next thing I know she's got a Squidoo page called "Buddy's Best Friend" and says it's written by Experienced Horse Teen (she's not officially a teenager yet though it's coming soon) because Somewhat Experienced Horse Teen was too long.

Please visit Lily here and give her lots of stars. And also note that she says she has TWO horses, which means somehow she thinks my horse Lucy is hers. Hmmmm. The things you learn on the Internet.

Because My Daughter Grew Up with Horses

The following essay, written by Tracy Meisenbach on her daughter's 16th birthday, is beautifully written and says everything I've wanted to say about why we encourage our daughter to ride. It is reprinted here with Tracy's permission. Please visit her website at Trinity Appaloosa Farm.

Because My Daughter Grew Up with Horses
by Tracy Meisenbach

My daughter turned sixteen years old today, which is a milestone for most people. Besides looking at baby photos and childhood trinkets with her, I took time to reflect on the young woman my daughter had become and the choices she would face in the future. As I looked at her I could see the athlete she was, and determined woman she would soon be.

I started thinking about some the girls we knew in our town who were already pregnant, pierced in several places, hair every color under the sun, drop outs, drug addicts and on the fast track to no where, seeking surface identities because they had no inner self esteem.

The parents of these same girls have asked me why I "waste" the money on horses so my daughter can ride. I'm told she will grow out of it, lose interest, discover boys and all kinds of things that try to pin the current generation's "slacker" label on my child. I don't think it will happen, I think she will love and have horses all her life.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she has compassion. She knows that we must take special care of the very young and the very old. We must make sure those without voices to speak of their pain are still cared for.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned responsibility for others than herself. She learned that regardless of the weather you must still care for those you have the stewardship of. There are no "days off" just because you don't feel like being a horse owner that day. She learned that for every hour of fun you have there are days of hard slogging work you must do first.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned not to be afraid of getting dirty and that appearances don't matter to most of the breathing things in the world we live in. Horses do not care about designer clothes, jewelry, pretty hairdos or anything else we put on our bodies to try to impress others. What a horse cares about are your abilities to work within his natural world, he doesn't care if you're wearing $80.00 jeans while you do it.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she learned about sex and how it can both enrich and complicate lives. She learned that it only takes one time to produce a baby, and the only way to ensure babies aren't produced is not to breed. She learned how babies are planned, made, born and, sadly, sometimes die before reaching their potential. She learned how sleepless nights and trying to outsmart a crafty old broodmare could result in getting to see, as non-horse owning people rarely do, the birth of a true miracle.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she understands the value of money. Every dollar can be translated into bales of hay, bags of feed or farrier visits. Purchasing non-necessities during lean times can mean the difference between feed and good care, or neglect and starvation. She has learned to judge the level of her care against the care she sees provided by others and to make sure her standards never lower, and only increase as her knowledge grows.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to learn on her own. She has had teachers that cannot speak, nor write, nor communicate beyond body language and reactions. She has had to learn to "read" her surroundings for both safe and unsafe objects, to look for hazards where others might only see a pretty meadow. She has learned to judge people as she judges horses. She looks beyond appearances and trappings to see what is within.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned sportsmanship to a high degree. Everyone that competes fairly is a winner. Trophies and ribbons may prove someone a winner, but they do not prove someone is a horseman. She has also learned that some people will do anything to win, regardless of who it hurts. She knows that those who will cheat in the show ring will also cheat in every other aspect of their life and are not to be trusted.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she has self-esteem and an engaging personality. She can talk to anyone she meets with confidence, because she has to express herself to her horse with more than words. She knows the satisfaction of controlling and teaching a 1000 pound animal that will yield willingly to her gentle touch and ignore the more forceful and inept handling of those stronger than she is. She holds herself with poise and professionalism in the company of those far older than herself.

Because my daughter grew up with horses she has learned to plan ahead. She knows that choices made today can effect what happens five years down the road. She knows that you cannot care for and protect you investments without savings to fall back on. She knows the value of land and buildings. And that caring for you vehicle can mean the difference between easy travel or being stranded on the side of the road with a four horse trailer on a hot day.

When I look at what she has learned and what it will help her become, I can honestly say that I haven't "wasted" a penny on providing her with horses. I only wish that all children had the same opportunities to learn these lessons from horses before setting out on the road to adulthood.

Thank you, Tracy. You've said it better than I could.

12-year-old Olympic Hopeful Killed in Riding Accident

This story makes me cry. From the Telegraph:

Olympic hopeful, 12, crushed to death by horse

By Nigel Bunyan

A schoolgirl tipped to compete in the 2012 Olympics has been killed in a horse-riding accident.

Shannon Bloomfield, 12, was taking part in an indoor jumping event when her mount fell on top of her.

She had almost completed the course when her horse, Poppy, failed to negotiate the penultimate fence.

It fell awkwardly, trapping the young rider, as horrified spectators looked on. Shannon was pronounced dead at hospital.

Yesterday, her parents, Darren and Wendy, both accomplished riders, paid tribute to their "sports-mad" daughter. (To read the rest, click here.)

Everything You Need to Know about Boots for Your Horse

The Internet is a wonderful thing! Lily wants to get boots for Buddy because she's bought clothes for just about every other part of his body and she's running out of parts to dress. After the boots I guess she'll have to buy him sunglasses. I don't know. He's better dressed than I am.

So, when Beckz at I will jump sweet jumps mentioned ill-fitting boots on a student's horse, I asked her if she could do a post about boots. All about boots so that Lily and I could learn what we needed to know to do it right. Maybe we'd get boots that weren't merely decorative if we knew what we were doing.

So Beckz did and it's wonderful! Please go visit her at These boots are made for walking. Well worth your time!

Thanks, Beckz!

Building Trust

Lily's latest teacher is doing something interesting. She talks about how Lily needs to earn Buddy's trust, and how Lily needs to learn to trust Buddy.

Nobody has taken this angle before, at least not head-on. Lily's a good age for this concept, which can ward off a lot of problems and change their relationship. Lily loves Buddy, but doesn't necessarily trust him (nor should she.) But now they've both gotten better, and it's time to build trust and a partnership.

I like this approach. Will keep you posted.

What Motivates a Child to Ride -- and Work Hard?

It's pouring down rain, very cold and we're waiting for it all to turn to snow. So what did Lily do? Same thing she does every day -- she rode. I wouldn't have ridden if I were in the ribbons with only one more phase of an event to go. Buddy didn't like it either -- he gets really ticked when rain gets in his ears. But he's learning who's boss.

You'd think she was training for the Olympics. (Maybe she is!)

Her 13th birthday is coming up. What does she want? Some painting and maintenance done on the truck and trailer, and re-joining Pony Club. Not one other thing.

She's spent the last four hours cleaning her tack and oiling it. (Which it needed after its soaking.)

I wanted her to be interested in riding. I wanted her to share my love for horses. I had no idea she would be this passionate, but I'm thrilled.

I know of other girls who have lost interest, even though they have horses and riding moms. I can't tell you why they lost interest, and I expect one day Lily will discover boys or something and things will change around here. (That's probably the way it should go -- but the longer she waits, the better). Maybe they were pushed too hard. One had a very difficult horse and got scared. Maybe riding just didn't appeal to them as much as other things. Sort of like it doesn't appeal to my husband.

I can tell you a few things we did right. The first was getting her a safe pony. She had a lot of fun, learned a lot and built her confidence up.

The second was regular riding lessons with good instructors. We've been lucky that she's had good feelings about all of her teachers (and she's had a lot for someone so young).

The third was that when bad things happened, her teachers were able to help her. One is really gifted at restoring confidence and she really turned things around for us a few months ago. I think this teacher's gift is that she has a really forceful personality, and when she says you can do something, you either believe her or are too intimidated not to try. Plus she keeps you busy and keeps you laughing. She's very unconventional so there's always an element of surprise.

The fourth may be that her best friend also loves horses, though she is new to them. I think that's all they talk about.

And the fifth -- we live out here where there's nothing else to do. We don't own any of those electronic games beyond what will run on a P.C. She's not allowed to use IM. And if you only walk outside to get something out of the car, Buddy will be there at the fence. Calling to you.

Who could resist that face?

I'm Still Riding, Even if I'm Not on a Horse

When you've spent a lot of time on horseback, you view the world differently, even when you're riding in a car. There are things that linger....

Ever since I learned to jump (that would be quite a while ago), I cannot help but jump fences in my mind as I view them from the road. I'm not talking regular horse-jumps. I'm talking highway barriers, fences in people's yards, pasture fences. Fallen trees and piles of rubble. Can't you see they are really jumps? (Though the asphalt landing is a bit disturbing, even when riding only in my head.)

Open grassy fields -- what rider doesn't gallop through those from his/her car and long to go get their horse and come back?

I didn't tell Lily about this. But one day while I was driving her through the countryside she said, "Mom, did you know I'm jumping all those fences in my head?"

Yes, darling. I do know.

How about you?

Buddy is a "Take-Advantage-of-You Kind of Horse"

In many ways, we've got our eyes shut about Buddy. We see what we want to see. Lily had a riding lesson yesterday with a new person because (1) her usual teacher just had a baby and (2) her usual teacher's price just went way up. This new person is an assistant that her usual teacher hired. Lily, Buddy and the new teacher seem to have very good chemistry, and the new teacher appeals to Lily's sense of adventure and risk-taking.

In other words, I don't necessarily keep my eyes open.

The new teacher watched them for a while and then said, "Lily, what you need to know is that Buddy is a 'Take-Advantage-of-You kind of horse.'"

He's so very sweet, gentle and personable. He wouldn't do anything like that, take advantage of his rider?

Yes.

But we're on to him. And he's really, really teaching Lily how to ride.

And like many bad boys, he also knows how to work us. This morning he came whinnying and running up the fence to see me. He makes me feel so special. It wasn't because I was going to feed him. He loves me for myself alone. Right?

Every morning before Lily leaves for school he comes to the fence so she can kiss him on the nose. (There's always a possibility she has food. But truly, he's just about the friendliest horse you can find.)

Charming. Naughty. Capable and trying. That's our Buddy. Oh wait. Lily keeps reminding me. HER Buddy.

The Shopping Trip

For Christmas, Lily got some money that we told her she could use along with a coupon from our local (one county over) tack shop, which I was expecting to receive in January. It arrived. We went shopping. She also took the money she won in a piano competition. This was a power shopping trip, and I meant to take my camera.

I wasn't feeling well (vertigo, I think) so I'm glad they had chairs, because time doesn't fly when you are in a tack shop with a girl with money and dreams.

She tried on every pair of breeches in their sale room in the back. She wanted white ones for dressage, and there were very few. One of the most helpful sales people said, "We can't keep them clean. We keep them in the back." And low and behold, they had her size. Good deal, too.

Lily also got a schooling helmet (Troxel) for $20, an affordable show helmet, a show coat (with my 20 percent off coupon), some gloves to replace the ones she has that her fingers poke through, and a really cool saddle pad that has waterproof pouches to carry stuff. Because you never know what stuff you might need to carry.

No wonder the room kept spinning.

She left with $1.98. And a great big smile that I think will last for several days. Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy the accessories for a horse, which, when you are 12, equals happiness.

Breyer Horse Ride Scheduled at Last!

I had no idea it would take this long to schedule my upcoming ride on an equine that was used as a model (a named model, no less) for Breyer's line of horses or I wouldn't have mentioned so long ago . But finally, the model, her owner, my daughter and I have scheduled the MLK Holiday for a get together where we can ride Famous Horse and find out more, such as the funny stories from attending Breyerfest.

I'll run the photos and stories the week of February 4.

And at this point, if we get rained or snowed out or something, I might just make the whole thing up so I don't look like a terrible liar!

National Velvet and International Velvet

Santa must have known we would spend a good deal of our holidays inside, thrilled that it was raining, because he brought Lily some old horse movies. We've watched "National Velvet" and "International Velvet" over the past couple of days.

I never watched them back-to-back before, and I'm all for artistic license, but we did have a good laugh over The Pie changing from a chestnut gelding to a dark bay stallion and being put out to stud. It was all so miraculous -- what was going to happen next?

I kept hoping the people from "What Not to Wear" would come in and give most everyone in "International Velvet" a new hair-do, but it didn't happen. As Lily said, "Riding helmets mess up your hair no matter what," so I guess that would have been a waste.

Belated Horse Trial Results

In the rush of everything, I never really did talk about Buddy's first horse trials earlier this month, other than to say that all survived.

It was actually a little better than that. I just downloaded the Christmas pictures and the horse trial pictures were in the same batch. (I didn't take many pictures because I was too busy holding my breath.)

They had a good dressage test and were in first place, in spite of some slightly less than circular circles. Here's Buddy listening to what the judge had to say afterwards.

Here's Buddy noticing the lady who feeds him, who is also holding the camera. That Buddy is my biggest fan.

Notice the blue ribbon on the boot. Very exciting.

Lily and Buddy went to that same farm last Saturday to ride with friends. Wouldn't you know it? When they were schooling in the stadium jumping ring, Buddy refused the coop and Lily fell off. So glad he waited two weeks for that little performance.

Some days he's good. Some days he's not. Timed it just right that time.