|the look of eagles.|
or the look of, "i'd rather be trail riding...down that trail back there."
...but lord have mercy, that does not make him a hunter horse!
We had a ballin' dressage school yesterday since I figured I should let my dressage saddle know I was still alive. Plus I had just sent in my membership fees for the Northeastern PA Horsemen's Association with the intention of winning the shit out of their dressage shows for a year end award. Love me some ribbons.
But anyway, Bobby was totally on point because he's ten now, and ten year olds are grown up horses.
After a flawless warm up, we ran through Novice A because that's probably the first eventing test we'll be riding this year. Just to finish off the ride with something fun, I asked for some trot half pass. He was fucking amazing to the right. I tried it to the left and....well, we couldn't even really leg yield very in that direction. Oh well.
Then, to see if I could, I asked him for a half pass at the canter going right. Whaaaaaaat. Dudes, I totally got it for all its three steps of glory before we ran out of arena. I was pretty giddy. It might have been embarrassing if I'd been riding with someone else. And if I ever got embarrassed for giggling on my horse. Which I don't.
|"what, lady? what the fuck do you want? just feed me that cookie already."|
Today I was excited to get back to some jumping. I set up a long two stride line (either 2'6" to 3' or vice versa) and a 2'6" vertical on the diagonal. I also dressed Bobby up in a hunter horse outfit for some early preparation for this summer.
I left my reins a little longer and loopier than I usually do warming up to try to encourage a little nose poking out. Bobby was all, "Whatevs. Look at me win the hack class." And I was all, "Bobby, please. You immediately lose the hack class on looks alone. Get some control over those ears."
Once we started jumping, I was feeling pretty lost without my super thick rubber reins in my hands. I felt like I didn't know where to hold my reins, and like I had no control over my horse. Bobby was happy to accommodate my confusion by not really steering or slowing down. On the forehand? Counter bent? We dominated those things.
But he jumped everything without issue--it was just a little fast, and eventually got a little flat because 2'6" is insulting to Robert right now. I want the outdoor to melt!
I think the next time I trade the running for a standing, I'll also try out a pelham. Even if I never use the curb rein, maybe the feeling of two reins in my hands will make me more comfortable. Damn you hunt seat riders and your minimal tack!