No Media

I’ve been waiting to write this because there was a rumor that someone was taking pictures in the cross-country course but alas… it’s Thursday and with all my stalking, not even a glimmer of hope. Damn it all. So Sunday was a pretty great day minus being late even though I drove myself. Apparently that’s just the way it is.

I got there in enough time to check in, tack up, and what do you know… they were running early so I walked right into my dressage test. Dear lord my horse is a saint. He nodded to the judges as I said hello and we trotted around the arena until the bell rang. We were pretty straight on our entry and I felt confident in his ability to move forward… just don’t touch his face. First trot circle was pretty good but of course he knew what was next. He fell in and out of the canter on our circle… derp. Then of course cantering was the only thing on his brain. But of course we made it through and landed in 7th… out of 8. Just have to get through stadium now B.

Changed up my tack and we strut out stuff to the warm up arena and he was on fire! Cross-rail, vertical, over, and we’re ready to rock. Or so we thought. What a dick, that’s all I can say. We were up and ready to take the first jump and the bell rang so off we went… refusal… I booted him and he popped over it without an issue and cantered with vigor to the next fence. Oxer… with a flower box that only took up the center of the fence… something we practiced and he nailed… but also the thing he hates the most. Refusal… aaannndddd refusal… and a few more refusals just to school on how to refuse because apparently that’s a new thing (refusing more than once).

The judge asked if we’d like a trainer to come in and help and I replied no… I think I’m going to call it. Luckily it was a schooling show and I had the option to move onto cross-country. Of course I said yes, why the hell not? We’ll find out how that goes.

They changed the course so that you actually exited from the other side of the arena which honestly… I think that’s one of the reasons he gave the stadium course the finger. “Mom, all the horses are going out there… I know what’s out there. Let’s skip this bullshit.” Well played horse. Well played.

You actually had to drop down a slight bank they built into the start box which unlike a majority of the horses in our division, he was all about. His ears perked up as he hopped down and looked for the next jump. Sorry B, we need a countdown. And we got it and as I collected my reins, his ears flipped forward and we were off for an amazing, crazy round of cross-country. He was locked on and soft to my hands and responsive to my seat. More so than he ever had been before. I was actually able to just downshift with a butt-squeeze. Like what?

We obviously didn’t pin but I had a feeling that we weren’t going to get through stadium… we both hate it there. Groton House on the other hand… bring it bitch.

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Author: Madeline C.

25+ something self-employed eventer wannabe. Horses are my life along with a fuzzy American lab and a Tiger cat named Mitch. My heart belongs to a 2006 AQHA Hunt Seat bred gelding named Tear Drop Winken... or for short, "Brantley".

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