Honestly, I feel like I turn into a little bit of a braggart to people after a few rides in a row where Bobby hasn't sat down on top of any supporting structures in an attempt to show me how displeased he is with...whatever it is that displeases a Bobby. There's really not an in-between space with him. He is either Very Bad or Very Good. Since last week, he has been nothing but Very Good.
You guys read about the rides over the weekend/Monday where he was jumping like a rock star, flatting like a rock star, and even popping over cross country jumps in the field like a rock star. My horse is easy fucking peasy, yada yada, I'm sorry that's so boring.
|the pond monster goes swimmies for the best snacks.|
I know it's absolutely bat shit crazy and wrong of me, but sometimes I kind of like the low key cray cray because it's funny and it makes posts funny. What's not funny?
Yesterday we ran through 2-3. I figured a week out from our first dressage show, I better start putting some shit together here.
Bobby started out on the forehand so badly that his first medium he ended up splatting on his face with his front legs flailing and his hind legs cantering. What the fuck even, horse? I pulled him up, quite sharply as we were rapidly heading into the corner practically doing a head stand, and then took him out for a loop of the driveway figuring he was going to take offense to me cramping his style and telling him he was wrong.
Only he didn't take offense. He didn't even really seem to notice. We entered from outside the arena and went straight down center line to start the test. Bobby didn't get tense, he wasn't upset, he just went around and did his job, nailing his canter and counter canter work so well that my face hurt I was grinning so hard.
I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S BORING AND WHO FUCKING CARES?! NO ONE BECAUSE DRESSAGE IS BORING AS SHIT UNLESS IT GOES WRONG.
|lots of trail riding both before and after rides|
Today my knees are killing me to the point where the idea of sticking my legs in stirrups ever again ever seems like death. You think galloping racehorses is fun when you're all young and sprightly? Don't. Don't fucking do it. It will destroy your young sprightly body and make you a fucking cripple before you hit thirty.
But I did feel like I should ride since I was going to be there anyway to turnout and feed ponies, The solution was obviously to get on bareback and make my inner thighs and vajay hurt just as badly as my knees. Solid game plan, right?
After a super quick w/t/c warm up, I walked through 2-2 and then got to work.
Dudes, Bobby beasted that shit. He was so. fucking. good. Alright, so he tried to take over at the medium canter and continue it right on out the open arena door, but other than that? Totes perf. I wouldn't have changed a single thing.
|spent ten minutes trying to explain my very simple camera phone to the neighbor.|
she asked if this pic was ok or if i wanted more. i was like, "no! it's fine! thanks! please join the 21st
century and learn how to press one single button! thanks again!"
I don't know how else to apologize for my horse going through a Solid Citizen phase right now. Provided the weather holds, our hunter show this weekend should probably take care of that phase and provide some hilarious blog fodder. If nothing else, seeing my broken AF in the confidence department self compete against ten years old should be amusing.