smellshorsey

When Winning Isn't Everything

Winning is never everything, but sometimes winning can be an embarrassment. We have this new horse, Markus (left), who has done a great many things, from racing to eventing at the preliminary level. And also at the beginner novice level and novice level with his previous owner. When I checked online, I saw that they had won one event at the beginner novice level, and been eliminated at other events on the cross country phase. Oops!

We know what he can do. We don't know yet what he can't -- or won't -- or possibly even worse, WILL do that we don't expect or know about.

So, when we'd had the horse a total of three weeks (and two of them are his "on trial" weeks), I was faced with a dilemma. Lily wanted to enter him in a friendly, local horse trials that she usually attends. But at what level should I enter them? She's never even ridden a dressage test on him and has only had three lessons. I don't know what he does on cross country that got him eliminated more than once. Everything I've seen him do is good, or otherwise I wouldn't have bought him. But there's this level of the unknown....

Over her objections (she wanted to go novice, which is two levels up from her previous experience), I entered her in special novice -- the same level at which she last competed. At that time she was first after dressage but ended up fifth from time and jumping faults. Enormous time faults. 

We got to the show grounds and unloaded. Markus looked around then started grazing. That's a good sign. He doesn't stand particularly still to get tacked up but he's not awful, either. They had a pretty good warm-up for dressage, but not a very good test. Their score put them next to last (fifth), with a huge difference between them and the girl in first place.

So, that was disappointing but just showed what Lily and Markus need to work on (everything in dressage). Schooling for cross country was good, and even though Lily had been warned by Markus's previous owner that he was very, very antsy and sometimes agitated in the starting box, he walked in and acted like a horse with brains. He knew where he was and was ready to go, but he wasn't stupid.

Lily had to ride him, and he hesitated as if he was going to stop at a downhill jump in a pasture fence line that he had to jump into some dark woods, but Lily growled at him and drove him (thank you, Buddy, for this good lesson) and Markus sailed over. Whew! After that she had a wonderful ride -- the time of her life. I have never seen such a happy smile on her face.

Lily was clean after cross country. But the other girls weren't so lucky. Lily found herself unexpectedly in first place. And though they had a very eccentric, fast and open-jumperish stadium round (giving the spectators their money's worth with hair pin turns, crazy approaches and almost getting off course), they were clean there. So they held on to first place.

I was proud of both of them. And I was also very, very relieved that they had not done well in dressage. The mothers and trainers of the other competitors politely asked me about this new horse, and I could tell there were some ideas that perhaps it wasn't sportsmanlike to enter them in this division. I was relieved that I was able to tell them that Lily and Markus were next to last after dressage, which meant that their first place finish was only possible because the competitors who placed higher than them after dressage lost their rankings through their own time and jumping faults. I did not enter a ringer for my child to beat their children.

My goal for the day was to enter my daughter and her new horse in a competition that would be challenging and safe, where they could come away with a good experience. That's what happened, and now we know (more or less) how he's going to act.

Lily was ecstatic during her victory gallop. She did the whole thing on the wrong lead. She has plenty to work on before next time, when she will indeed compete up a level.

Winning is great fun when you've really earned it.

Some People are Even Stupider than Me

And yes, I know that should be, "some people are even stupider than I." But when you're talking about stupid, good grammar is optional.

Okay, first you had me with my horse tangled up in the hay net in the trailer, even though I knew better. Then you had the other people at the horse show.

Unbelievable as it may be, there are people even stupider than I am. I was walking around the show grounds when I saw two loose horses. Not what you need at a show with so many children, green horses and wild riders. So I yelled to the announcer's booth that there were two loose horses, which when I pointed, they could clearly see. They stopped the show temporarily and announced that there were two loose horses.

Two women at the concession stand yelled out, "They're not loose. They're grazing."

Yes, they had brought their horses to the show and turned them loose, like dogs, to roam around and graze at will. I thought I'd seen everything.

Maybe I'm doing things wrong. Fencing is expensive and hard to keep up. Maybe I should just turn my horses loose. If anybody gets upset, I'll explain with a smile, "No, Buddy isn't eating your rosebushes, Mrs. Campbell. He's just grazing."

The two women did wander over to their horses and catch them. The horses were a bit underweight and could have stood some more grazing time, and the women could have stood a little more time away from the concession stand. They put lunge lines on their horses, and more or less tied them out from their trailers.

Maybe I should have given them my hay net while they were at it.

Lucy's First Show

After the hay net fiasco, the horse show was fun.

We love the series of small, friendly schooling-type shows that they have about once a month in the next county. People encourage each other, the show management is relaxed and flexible, and though it is competitive, the support for the other riders and horses is greater than anyone's desire to win. It's hunters in the morning, western in the afternoon, and then a bunch of games classes. Some people ride in all three segments.

We found out our friends were going, so we wanted to go. But which horse to take? Since Buddy's for sale, he would have to be perfectly turned out and Lily would have to ride him perfectly. She didn't want to work that hard -- she wanted to have fun with her friends. Though Markus is new and we could use the experience with taking him somewhere, he doesn't need the experience. We decided to take Lucy because she almost never gets to to anywhere. In fact, she hadn't been ridden in weeks. (Ooops. This is my horse.)

I told Lily she could ride the horse or just tie her to the trailer. Either way it would be educational for Lucy. She chose to ride her.

I liked Lucy's attitude. Ears forward, more or less doing what she was supposed to. Things weren't perfect but it was a positive experience. One class was just about perfect. First is always fun.
 

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.)

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.

Gift Ideas for Horse Show Moms

I've been getting googled a lot for "gifts horse show moms" so I thought I'd throw out suggestions. These are quick ideas and are not ads.

• Xanax
• Case of Diet Coke with lime and brownies
• Make a "Horse Show Mom Kit" out of some kind of totebag. Inside put toilet paper, a Hershey bar, anti-bacterial hand sanitizer, Advil, band-aids, an old towel for wiping off horses and boots, sunscreen, a hat and sunglasses, and several hundred dollars
• There are some cute horse mom shirts, hats, etc. at Cafepress
• IOUs for casseroles, salads and other food to bring to her house the night she gets back from a show
• There are good horse show and horse show mom books at Amazon
• Folding chair embroidered with "Horse Show Mom" or "Saint Mom" or whatever
• New stiff broom for horse trailer
• Cowboy Magic green remover if her child has a white (I know it's called grey) pony
• Lint roller
• More money
• Foot massager thingy they're selling at Bed, Bath and Beyond

Whew! All Lived to Tell the Tale

Thanks for your good wishes about the horse trials today. It was a good day, perfect weather (might have hit the 70s!) and Buddy behaved, though he considered doing otherwise. Lily should be proud of all of her hard work and achieving her goals. (Placed well, too.) I'll write more later and maybe put up some photos, though I was too absorbed in riding Buddy from a distance and doing the Mom Worry Thing, in my head, to remember to take pictures.

We got to see her old pony, many friends and it was a great day. We got home mid-afternoon and I slept like a fool until 5:30!

I even ran into a childhood friend who lived on the same block as I did and told me the following story, which I'm not sure I remember more than a flash:

We had a pony cart. It was lightweight and probably home-made, with bicycle tires for wheels. My childhood friend told me that she hadn't been in a pony cart since the day she went riding with me, and that she'd never go again.

?????

"Remember you were driving and you took that corner too fast and we flipped the cart? We turned it right over."

This sounds traumatic enough to remember. And I almost can. I remember seeing the ground come up as we fell over. I think I remember. I didn't remember it until today , when my old friend retold the story.

I asked my father if he remembered it. He said no, but that he didn't remember a lot, and that it did sound like something I would have done.

?????

I remember many rides in the pony cart. I was less thrilled than others about riding in a pony cart. I preferred riding the pony to riding behind the pony. I didn't even know that I knew how to drive a pony cart. I guess, hearing all this, I didn't.

Horse Trials Tomorrow

Buddy has his first horse trials tomorrow. I am worried about this. I don't know if I'm worried about this in the way a mother is worried about trusting her child to a horse with his own opinions, or if I'm worried about this excessively.

What I'd like is a remote-controlled horse. One with a button I could operate if somebody Gets Too Big For His Britches on cross-country. Lily's got her confidence back and an elevator bit. I'm the one who's acting like she's riding in the Kentucky Derby tomorrow.

Did I mention that Swaps, (pictured left -- see they're the same color, both are horses and both have four legs) Buddy's great-grandfather, won the Kentucky Derby? That's the side of Buddy I would like to leave at home. Sometimes that side comes out -- you never know when, though wide open spaces, speed and fun jumps do seem to be a catalyst. I want to take the Golden Retriever side of Buddy. The one you can climb under, pile your friends on his back, go play with. The friendly, calm. LAZY horse who makes really silly faces when you massage his favorite spots on his neck, his chest and his belly. Such silly faces you're almost embarrassed for him.

Lily's had Buddy for almost two years. He was a Western pleasure horse, but he took no pleasure in it. He thinks this jumping stuff is fun. If they progress through higher levels in eventing, he'll be thrilled. I'm sure he could get to the front of the staff in no time if he ever went fox hunting. That would be his favorite thing. (That's why he's not going.)  In the past two years, he's taught Lily a lot. I think tomorrow we get to find out how much we've taught him.

Buddy is two horses. A lazy horse who needs his rider to carry a crop to keep his trot energized. And a "yahoo cowboy" who thinks life is grand and to be lived with a couple of bucks and some speed. To somebody's credit, he's got the Best Brakes Ever. They are too good for English. You ask for "whoa" and he slams on the brakes. I frankly like these brakes very much, but they aren't elegant and will just about unseat you. But -- if he's having lots of fun, he forgets about his power brakes. He's never run away or bolted (though he has spooked). He will buck after jumps and lap the other horses in flat classes. There's just some lag time between when he's asked to stop being naughty and when he stops.

The course walk is this afternoon. That means Lily has to miss today's practice for the school's orchestra concert next week -- it's a part of her grade (I wrote an excuse). She plays the violin, more or less. It was that or P.E.  Another story for another day.

Jane's going to walk the course with us this afternoon. Jane's got nerve problems that cause pain in her legs, so I really appreciate her doing this. Lily's already very confident about tomorrow. I just need to stay out of her way. Jane's really good at managing both of us.

If Lily ever makes it to the Olympics (her dream, of course, and I hope she does make it), I hope I can watch without expiring from the stress. I wonder how many calories you burn watching your child, jumping every jump, riding ever step with her?

Lily is intending to win, of course. She might win something. She might not. I've talked to her at length about how we're going to judge the success of the day. It's not about ribbons. It's about accomplishing goals. Keeping him under control. No refusals. Doing her best. Finding out what she's got so she'll know what to work on for the next phase.

Isn't it funny, but somehow a ribbon counts more than real accomplishment?  She's on board with me on this, but everybody knows that what a 12-year-old wants is not abstract evaluation, but a ribbon.

Paul will be there, of course. He'll ask me how she's doing, since he's not a horse person (other than a horse-food buyer). I hope my answer is "Absolutely fantastic!"

That won't mean she's winning. It means something even better -- and it will mean that I'll begin to breathe normally at some point during the day.

Good Thing It's a Small World

If you're a regular, you've read how much we've been preparing for a horse trials this coming weekend -- Buddy's first trials.

I sent in my check, Lily's entry and Buddy's Coggins in late October. I've been wondering why the check hasn't been cashed.

I got a call from organizer yesterday. She said that one of her students, a good friend of Lily's, keeps saying that Lily is coming to the trials and the friend can't be a volunteer because she's helping Lily. But the organizer hasn't received our entry so she was "just checking."

Thank goodness for living in a small world where people talk. We got it straightened out over the phone and Lily is officially entered, though I need to bring the paperwork and check with me for our course walk on Friday.

If we had shown up all prepared and ready to go only to find that Lily wasn't entered, that would have been a problem.

Sometimes it's a good thing that people talk and it's a small world.

Not My Job

Lily's still trying to figure out how to keep Buddy clean for the horse trials this coming Saturday. Thanks to all of you for your good suggestions and commiseration.

Horses are pigs trapped in horse skins. (I think it was photogchic who said that -- thanks!)

I ordered a book from Amazon in a weak moment (I have lots of those, usually involving chocolate) and it came in last week. It's The Horse Show Mom's Survival Guide by Susan Daniels. Of course Lily picked it up, noticed the pictures of the horse show mom stepping and fetching and grooming and serving. Lily looked at me and you could see the lightbulb go off. "Hey, Mom! You're supposed to be doing all that stuff at horse shows that I've been doing."

In your dreams.

You see, I'm the kind of horse show mom who makes the kid do the work. Oh, not all the work. If the horse is acting up (and it's legal to do so), I'll get on and have some words with him. I'll lead the horse around the grounds if he's excited and has grown a hand or two taller. I'll help get tacked up, will pin on her number and will wipe the dust off of her boots (and I've been known to carry water), but, just like I've already passed seventh-grade math and don't need to do seventh-grade math homework, I don't need any practice at getting a horse ready for a show -- or doing the work when I get there. (Though I will be responsible for food and drinks -- Lily has a nut allergy so we bring our own vittles.) And I will serve as coach, cheerleader, paparazzi, chauffeur  and banker. That seems like enough without  adding "groom" to my job description.

There's a child we sometimes show with whose mother does it all. And the child, who is old enough to tend to herself and her horse, fusses at the mother for not doing it right. The mother frets because the child isn't going to be ready for the class on time, the child isn't dressed, the horse isn't tacked up. The child talks back. It's an ugly sight. It's really hard not to slap both of them, but I might have to stand in line.

Back to the book. It's actually filled with lots of useful advice and information, including how to have tactful conversations with your trainer and the issue of some people having more expensive horses -- and some people having less.

I haven't checked to see if there's a chapter on worry. If there's not, I can write that. It's hard to put your child on a large, powerful animal with a brain the size of a cat's, and let go. If a horse show mom's job description included "horse mind control," I'd be all over that.