(ahahahahaha, cue nervous laughter and facial twitch Bobby's mystery lameness instantly provokes whenever anyone brings it up)
|lovely barn mom: so what's going on with bobby?|
me: AHAHAHAHAHA GOOD QUESTION.
barn friend b: calm the fuck down.
Yeah, anyway, more on that ongoing fucking saga later in the week as MOAR EXPERTS take my monies and try to come up with an answer.
Fortunately, the perks of being in a big boarding barn are that there are lots of horses to go around. BM put me on good old
|momo bravely takes the lead touring the front field. these kids were awesome riders!|
Poor Momo is still trying to find his way around here. BM has put a ton of work into him both in training and working with the barn's horde of body workers, but he's just kind of a dope. A good natured dope, but a great big dummy nonetheless. I took him over a few of the smaller logs, and he was so busy being amazed by the great outdoors (that he's ridden in many times) that he'd basically just trot into them, kind of stumble over them, and then continue on inspecting the wonders around him without a care in the world. A brilliant event horse he will never make.
He does, however, have an incredible jump in there and by the time we were almost done I was able to do a couple jumps with him where he was like, "Oh, right! Pick up my feeties and jump the jump! I know how to do that."
|probably the third attempt at getting him to focus on this.|
I had a quick break where I could eat my lunch, and then Shooter's mom showed up so we could go out together. I took Oz out with her and B on Rafiki. Despite being terrified of the ribbons marking the trail, Shooter was so cute jumping all the things with much enthusiasm.
Ozzie also had much enthusiasm. His version of hunter pacing is to be in the lead and go really fast and do whatever Oz wants the end. My version of hunter pacing is: listen to me, bro. We had a few abrupt canter to halt transitions because we were supposed to be trotting, and he started off super pissed at me for making him jump the jump next to the jump he wanted to go over. The nerve, I know.
|gigantic creature doesn't actually have to jump over these things.|
angry because i'm asking him to land on the correct lead. nobody tells oz what to do!
He's got such uncomfortable gaits--especially his canter--that I felt like a complete beginner being bounced out of the saddle half the time, and it doesn't help that he expects you to sit the fuck down and leave him the fuck alone when he comes up to a jump. Any other approach leads him to giving you the finger and casually cantering to the side. Lesson horses have their own rules, yo.
Despite our disagreements about obedience and team work, I still had a lot of fun and our team ending up coming in fourth. Add that ribbon to the five thousand other fourth places I feel Bobby and I have won this year. It basically looks like we're waving the white flag of surrender on my ribbon rack at this point. #mediocrityrules
When we were done, I went back into the ring and made him do a few minutes of dressage work. His lessor went to college so he's back to lesson riders only--none of whom get after him to actually engage that post-legged back end. BM told me to get on him whenever I want so he gets forced to use the right muscles occasionally.
I'm grateful to still have horses to get on, though I'd like nothing more than to ride my own horse. Or at least have that "3/5 lame, possible dx: EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN" scratched off his vet report.
|although bobby says mugging people for their|
lunches instead of work is just fine with him.