He did duck out to the right the first time I turned him in to the single vertical, but it took him a bit by suprise and, turning in to it, it almost looked like you were going to jump into the oxer. An opening left rein helped, but it also made him land on the incorrect lead. Since our flying changes lately have ranged from rarely there to OMGIhavefeetwhat, he only switched in front which put us out of balance for the turn to the line.
At this point, I'm pretty much taking the "whatever" stance on it. I know the problem is his hind end, I know the solution to the problem is strength work, and I know that I can't do any consistent strength work until winter is over. Fucking fuckity fuck fuck fucking winter, is all I have to say about that.
No, actually, I have a lot to say about the matter, but I don't want to work myself into an anti-winter rage that accomplishes nothing. Yay, ponies.
Bobby was crooked, stiff, and completely unaccomidating to any of my requests. He had no interest in playing that day. Then in came L who proceeded to lunge her horse in the middle of our small dressage court sized arena with two other riders in it. Awesome. There is so much room for that!!!!!! I parked Bobby off to the side to avoid collision and waited for her to finish.
She got done and her daughter came in with another horse. Unfortunately, neither L or her daughter have much spatial awareness when it comes to sharing a small space. Bobby's general pissy attitude quickly escalated to full out naughtiness and we had several of his classic flying backwards and spinning around temper tantrums. He did have some really jaw dropping lateral work though. It just usually ended with bucking and backing instead of ending with going straight.... or forward.
I finally threw in the towel and excused myself from the arena to go on a quick trail ride. I really wanted to work him out of it, but there just wasn't the room or the right riders to work around. The ground was horrendous from the constant thawing and freezing, but I just gave Bobby his head and let him do what he wanted speed-wise. We trotted most of it, galloped up our hill, and picked our way down the steepest, longest hill to get back.
|"lala, not listening."|