And today as well.
My horse is the biggest bitch on his prison block.
He got no leeway from me though. If I can poke and tug at your bite marks and not even get an ear twitch, you're going to work, son. Yesterday I wanted to jump again, but I didn't want to be pull out a bunch of standards and poles and fill and yada yada, so instead I rolled out three trot poles that led up to a big X.
|pig staying toasty by hanging out in the sun.|
The pony was very good in his flat warm up. Ever since I've made it my priority to soften my back before anything else, he's gone a lot softer in all of gaits--especially the canter. Amazing how that works, right? Don't clench your cheeks and your horse won't clench everything on his entire body. Pure fucking magic.
The jumping exercise was primarily a rider exercise, which was good because we all know my brain is what needs the most work in this partnership. We trotted in--Robert never tried to blast through the poles because he is now a very good pony about such things (we'll see how long that lasts...)--and then I was supposed to pick the direction we'd turn afterwards and ask Bobby for the lead over the fence.
That....didn't go so well the first couple of times because I am me, and I need no other excuse. But once I got my brain clicked on, we were golden. I let Bobby have a nice walk break to munch on his candy while I crossed my stirrups. I want to be able to no stirrup like L when I grow up.
We went back to the trot for awhile while I worked myself up into enough of a beast mode that I could convince myself that I wasn't going to die jumping this cross rail without stirrups. Probably what convinced me was the thought that the longer I took debating this, the longer I was posting, and after a morning kick boxing workout the chances of me being permanently crippled were high.
|mags knows to stay in her corner when the horse starts moving.|
So in we turned.
And Bobby slowly fizzled out to a walk, calmly picked his way through the poles as I clung to him, carefully popped over the X, and cantered off.
I had to have a little giggle at that, and of course stuffed another cookie down his throat, because he so clearly had very little confidence in me not toppling off and decided that was not the way to go.
Back we went, and this time I closed my leg and rode him with some fucking confidence. He trotted right through and jumped just like he'd been doing before, and we were able to finish working through that a few more times like normal kids.
|candy for everyone!!|
Today was a dressage day. But first it was a piss Carly off day because.....
SOMEONE FELT THE NEED TO LONGE IN MY PERSONAL FUCKING SPACE.
I swear to fucking baby fucking Jesus, it's like people get some sort of twisted fucking pleasure out of longeing while I'm in the ring. Which really, the principle I don't mind. JUST HAVE SOME FUCKING
The girl and her horse came in, and I went down to the far side of the ring and put Bobby on a circle so she could have the side of the ring where she was standing. Sharing is caring, amirite?!
NO. I AM WRONG.
She walked right over to where I was and put her horse out on the line. Not even in the middle of the ring--all the way over to the far side where I was circling. I was like, "O.O" And then her horse wasn't being crazy enough at the canter, because apparently at my barn it's not okay to just have your horse canter calmly on a line, so she started chasing him with the whip.
Want to know what Bobby really likes? Snapping whips. Loves them. Loves to freak the fuck out in their presence that is. I had to stop and stand there until she was done getting her horse to buck.
She finally left, and we were able to get to work. Bobby's right side had a short today and none of his buttons worked that direction. His stretchy trot is still in hiding, and he really just wanted to canter the whole time, but overall it wasn't a bad ride.
It's supposed to be in the single digits for highs for awhile, so I'm not sure how much riding is going to be getting done. I'll probably just be treating my horse's neck wounds. My favorite.