As I was driving to the barn, the radio man was all, "The clouds are starting to come in here in the Susquehanna Valley, but it's warmed up to forty degrees." Shit yeah, radio man!
|gave this fat pony a make over.|
I got Bobby ready to rip and we started off with a nice stroll up the hill. Once we'd gotten to the end of our trail, he couldn't bring himself to head back to the barn so we wandered around the pine tress for awhile, sniffing out deer that had starved to death over the winter. Bobby finds this job fascinating. He's like a cadaver horse. A cadaver horse that wants to put shredded deer hide in his mouth. I draw the line there.
After a brief w/t/c back in the arena, we began the leg yield process again. To the left, he got it right away so I only asked him to do it once at the walk before lots and lots of pats and a nice trot to decompress.
To the right, the first time we turned down the quarter line he stopped as soon I asked for sideways. We hung out there for a minute as he gave me The Look to show his extreme Bobby displeasure. He finally deigned to walk on and the second time around he thought about every single step, but he did do it. Good pony!
Then, as we were walking around the corner, for absolutely no reason he went flying backwards. My reins were on the buckle and I hadn't changed a thing. He just decided he needed a little excitement, I guess. After much pony club kicking, I finally achieved forward, although it was a sideways forward. He upset himself into a trot which he got praised for and we changed directions and had a long trot until he let out a sigh and relaxed his back.
I put the pressure back on after awhile and asked for a trot leg yield to the left. Yay, first time! To the right? Yay, also first time! Neither were perfect, but there were no tantrums and it took us the entire length of the arena to get to the rail instead of one stride. See? Grown up horse! He was even relaxed enough to have a completely drama free canter in half seat afterwards.
I was chatting with NF's assistant when I was done riding and she asked how Bobby's bare feet were doing. I refrained from gloating, but only a little. Sorry, NF. I made the right choice. I'm the tootsies winner!