Thursday, November 21, 2013

A total whine of a post

Feel free to blow right past this one, folks. Nothing fun or exciting happens in it unless you count me being a whiny whiner britches fun and/or exciting. You'd be the only one.

I was trying to watch Duck Dynasty reruns on the couch with Hubby last night when all of the sudden...

WHAM!

This migraine drop kicked me right in the fucking eye and flattened my ass. I pulled the throw over my head and attempted to tough it out so I could at least listen to redneck hilariousness, but I ended up caving and crawling upstairs to bed at nine. Then I lay wide awake because it was so early and the giant moon was shining like a fucking spotlight directly into the bedroom windows. All I wanted to do was gauge my right eyeball out and inject my brain with Novocaine. Is that too much to ask?

dollar gazing longingly at a grazing bobby over the pasture gate.

My point to that story was that I went to sleep in a foul mood, woke up not at all rested and with a lingering headache, and proceeded to spend the rest of the day in a foul mood.

Also, since when are adults not allowed to throw temper tantrums? Why is that childish behavior? If I want to chuck my shoes across the room and flail my arms around my head while yelling bad words, I feel as though that's my right. My right as a bitchy chick, that is. Sorry, bros. You're just being an asshole if you resort to that.

We still have not reached anything horse related, and since this is a horse blog, I'll get on with it.

giant fro beast.

I decided to ride Spyder first since I figured I could end on a good note with Robert. Okay, what, right?! But trust me. After riding this giant bay OTTB with a piss poor work ethic, it makes me appreciate my giant bay OTTB with a piss poor work ethic way more. Why? Because mine has had a lifetime to realize the ramifications of not doing what he's asked, and he's finally reaching a point in his training where I ask him to do something and he just does it, and he does it correctly. It's a wonderful thing.

I tried yet another bit on Spyder (a big fat single jointed egg butt) and I think it will make a lovely flat bit for him. Not so much on the jumping. He came out raring to go and having to gawp at literally everything that moved.

"since when are there horses out here?!"
"since always, spyder."

I let him walk one lap before sending him off at the trot in an attempt to focus his brain. He settled in fine once he was moving, and gave me some really quiet work without getting busy with his bit. Then it was time for cantering. I thought I'd do him a favor and let him have a canter in half seat like I do with Bobby. Nope. He took immediate advantage and went jetting off, trying to rip the reins from my hands. I ended up running him into the fence to stop him because he had no martingale on (not making that mistake again), and his head was attached to my face while his legs kept churning away.

Listen up, tool bag. We're in a fucking outdoor arena. You are not capable of taking advantage of my mile long legs and velcro butt. I win every time. Suck it.

On that mature note, I slapped his nutty ass on a 20m circle and began the Baby Dressage Horse exercise. With a long rein and the softest of contact, we walked and halted off my seat. Then we trotted and walked off my seat. Then we trotted and halted off my seat. Then we cantered and trotted off my seat. We were a grunting, groaning, half-halting team, and we finally got ourselves on the same page.

artie munching away while we rode.

I thought I'd try doing a little figure eight over the X from the other day at the canter since he was finally being a respectable equine citizen. Nope. I opened my right rein over the fence to give him the hint that we were going to be turning that way on landing and he almost fell over he was so unbalanced. Like, literally almost went down on his side.

Okay, clearly balance is an issue. So we'll take this back a step and go straight on landing and halt at the gate before turning the new direction.

Yeah fucking right.

With just a fat snaffle (remember he was going in a Segunda before this) and no martingale, I had zero control. He landed and wanted to immediately go left (his stronger direction). I'd catch him with my left leg and pull him over with my right rein--because there was no finesse to this, trust me--and he's fling his head in confusion and annoyance and go skittering sideways until I could smash him into the fence to stop him.

It was a lovely sight, I'm sure.

After about a million repetitions, he got the gist and was able to land, halt at the gate, turn the new direction, and trot off relatively sanely.

I have almost no patience for jumping another green horse. I'm finally at the point with Bobby where I feel like we're on the same page over fences, and I don't want to fuck my own head up jumping this 'tard. I'll do my best to put a better flat work foundation on him and that will be my contribution.

derp faces.

To further my whine, my horse is lame. We futzed around the arena at the walk for five minutes before trudging up the hill and grazing for twenty minutes. I took him back to the indoor afterwards and put him on the longe. RF? Probably? Then I spun him on a small circle and made him back up because every now and then in his stall he'll stumble behind and be a second late catching himself--like a neuro horse, or a horse with such bad Lyme that it's starting to present as neuro. But he was totally foot perfect and happy to do what I asked. Stupid Lyme. Hopefully I get my results back tomorrow or Saturday.

it's a hard knock life.

I went on a thorough exploration of his feet back in the barn. Yuuuuck. I neglected to take any pictures, but I'll try to remember to get some tomorrow. I ended up trimming his hind feet and discovered a lovely heel bruise on his right hoof. That foot is about as good as the RF.

The RF was good and bad news. The good news is the thrush in his central sulcus is pretty much gone. That crack is 85% closed up and causing him zero pain. The bad news is the thrush in the rest of his frog is worse. He doesn't shed his frogs himself, so I have to take the hoof knife to them. I hate the hoof knife. However, I cut away a massive portion of frog today. It was a squishy/mealy texture, black, and smelled awful. I cut out everything like that I could and soaked his foot in Oxine for half an hour. I probably could have taken more off, but I'm incapable of wielding the hoof knife properly to get in there all the way. I'm going to ask BM tomorrow if she can help me out.

So Bobby's out for a few days at least. Spyder will be getting boring flat rides in the meantime. I guess it's time to restock my gifs and get to work on more WW posts.

7 comments:

  1. *pat pat* Know the feel. I dunno about you though, but I was previously prescribed (and hoping to get my grubby hands on it again!!) Imitrex for my migraines, worked like fucking magic pants.

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  2. Young OTTBs- the derpiest most unco-ordinated things on the planet. Luckily they grow up to be majestic.... or *ahem* 'special'.
    Poor Bobby. :(

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  3. Migraines are the worst. Hope everything is OK with Bobby.

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  4. Ugh. Thrush, what a bitch. From one barefoot and mud-crusted OTTB owner to another, I'm hear for you.

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  5. I think you should ride Spyder all the time. The synopsis makes me laugh inappropriately at work.

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If you can't say anything nice, fuck off.