Schoolinng and Showing

Chapter One! On Thursday I took Barnaby out for a hack, which was nice, but towards the end I got quite fed up because I am now obsessed with how my hands are, how my feet are (I still really struggle with keeping my legs still) whether my toes are back (they creep forwards) how I'm holding the reins etc.  I think I just want to go out for a hack and enjoy the countryside, and Barnaby's magnificence, and not worry about how I look.
Because of this, I was all set to tell Nicky that I wasn't going to have any more lessons.  The fact that I can't really afford it doesn't help. 
Then on Friday she came for my lesson, and brought the lungee bungee with her that I'd ordered.  I will try to take a photo this week to show you what it looks like on the horse, but basically it's a strap that clips loosly under the horse's chin, from one bit ring to the other.  It has a ring in the middle that you thread the lungee bungee through, which then goes through the rings on the roller and back on itself, then you can alter the tightness with settings similar to a market harborough.  There is nothing that goes over the head like in a chambon or a Pessoa, so there is no poll pressure involved.  You can also attach it to the D rings on the saddle and ride in it.
And Barnaby went like a dream in it.  He was, for once, an absolute pleasure to school.  Having it on the highest clip is quite strenuous for the horse, so we kept the session short.  There is nothing for the horse to fight against so they gradually relax into the correct position, it's amazing.  It builds muscle behind the saddle relatively quickly, which Barnaby needs, and this in turn will help him to carry himself and so will lighten his forehand.  All I know is, riding him in it was absolute bliss.
So with this, to be honest, I may not need many more lessons anyway, although I have ended up booking one in for this week, but I need to make a decision very soon.
It's not that I am going to give up on the schooling though, as Barnaby definitely needs it.  Mr O says it isn't Barnaby's thing, as if to say I am wasting my time, so I gave this a great deal of thought.  It's like saying to a child, "Oh, you really struggle with reading, so you don't have to do it any more!"  Are you prepared to cope with the illiterate adult of the future?  You just wouldn't do it, would you?  It's the same with Barnaby.  I am not asking him for anything exceptional, just to be able to go the way any well schooled horse should go.  I know he's a big lad who would prefer to trolley around on his front end all day, but that doesn't mean he should.
My next thought was:  Although it's hard work, if my efforts with my hand position, leg position and generally trying to keep myself still mean we make a better 'picture' as we go up the road, rather than someone who's flopping about all over the place, maybe that's a good thing anyway...

Chapter Two:  Yesterday we did go to Eckington Show, and I really enjoyed it, but showing is still a farce, isn't it?  I'd rather do dressage any day.  Let me explain:
I did the in-hand cob class first.  I have had to practise this a bit, as Barnaby is a lot bigger than Max was, plus I have to make sure I can see round his head to see if the judge is calling me in to the line up.  Anyway, the steward halted us, then one by one we had to run our horse round the edge of the field and back to the line up.  The girl before me did a few trot strides and then stopped.  I asked the steward if we had to run all the way round, because it seemed a bit odd to me, so I set off with Barnaby and went like the clappers, boiling hot in my tweed jacket and my heart hammering, but you have to go fairly fast if you're going to show your horses paces off well.
Then we did our individual show, where you go out to the judge one at a time.  The judge asked me how old Barnaby is (14) and said he looked very fit.  Then you turn and walk away from the judge, turn round and trot past her in a straight line (you just keep going, it's up to the judge to move out of the way if she doesn't want to get trampled!) and back to the line-up.
When this other girl came out, the judge gave her a lecture about not trotting the horse properly, that she was letting the horse down, that she must give the horse a tap with her whip and put in some practise at home, turning to me and saying, "This young lady's horse is beautifully schooled!"  I nearly said, "Please can I have that in writing?" and then she said to the other woman, "But I liked your show, so I'm placing you first."  I was flabbergasted, and so was everyone outside the ring who could clearly hear and see what was going on.  Honestly, what is the point of that?
Then I did the senior equitation class.  There were seven in it and I came seventh because Barnaby cantered on the wrong lead.  Oh no, not on the right rein, where he does struggle, but on the left rein.  I was so stunned I didn't correct it, and the judge said that if it ever happens I should pull up straight away as then at least the judge knows I've realised and am trying to do something about it, which is fair comment.  He also said that Barnaby was putting his tongue between the two bits of the double bridle, not a good look!  I'll have to do something about that.  So I do think the judge was fair in this instance.
HOWEVER, an hour later I went into the ridden trimmed cob class.  To my surprise there were quite a few in it, but there was a dapple grey sports horse that was hogged.  This is quite a common occurrence, and for the life of me I don't know why the judge doesn't send them out.  It states quite clearly that it is a class for COBS! 
The judge had just judged three from the previous class who were also in this one, so he said he didn't need to see them again, so he watched the three new entries ride, but when he came to me he said, "I've already seen you ride," and didn't ask me to come out again!  What a flaming cheek!  I'd have come out and bimbled round in trot like the others did and probably have got placed.
Strangely enough I really enjoyed the day, but why is judgeing so fickle?  This is why we got into show jumping.  At least then you know why you're first or fifth or twelfth!  Surely there must be a set standard that the judge must use, like there is in dog shows? 
But I went primarily to get some ring experience with Barnaby, who I thought might be awful, but turned out to be impeccably behaved all day, spending several hours tied to the lorry on his own in searing heat.  I am very proud of him.  And it was worth the fight at bath time, where he snapped the string he was tied to and ran off back to the field, where I eventually caught him and began the process all over again! 
Thankyou, my boy, I am proud of you today.
Mrs O.

Show and Tell!

I put the horses out on Friday and mucked out. After a while I realised how warm it was and that Max was probably too warm in his rug, and thought I'd better go into the field and take it off him. I clambered over the fence, and he was very near, in fact they all were, in a cluster around Max. I undid his rug and took it off, but as I looked down at his tail and back leg I could see what I thought was a big bramble or something with thorns on it, caught in his tail and leg hair. Then as I got closer I realised it was barbed wire, and he was trapped in it.
I took some deep breaths and decided not to panic. I left him standing there and went in to find something to cut the barbed wire off with, but couldn't find anything. I rang Missis and asked if she could come and help. She held onto Max while I tried to find some cutters, but he didn't want to stand with her and ran off.
I came back into the field and held him while Missis used scissors to cut all the barbed wire out of his tail and leg hair. It took quite a while, but she got it all out in the end. The sweetest thing was that Max cuddled into me, to say thankyou, then went running round the field to show everybody he was fine. Fortunately none of the barbs had dug into his skin. It is a mystery as to where the barbed wire has come from as we never use it here, it's all dry stone walls and electric fencing as a back-up. Very strange, but thank goodness he wasn't harmed. Barbed wire is lethal with horses.
And this is significant, because...
On Friday afternoon another woman rang to ask if Max was still for sale. She said it was for a mother and daughter, but to make it clear, she is the daughter, and she is 27! She said she has been riding for some years, and had a thoroughbred that she put on loan while she was pregnant, but has now allowed the loanee to buy the horse off her. She had her baby 14 months ago and desperately wants another horse now, but in the meantime, her mother (47) has also started to ride, so they were looking for something that both of them could share. She said she just wanted a horse that would hack out behind another horse, and as soon as she said that, I thought, 'You are the one.'
So they came to see him on Saturday, and we did our usual scenario. Fortunately there was no one in the manege at Jolly Farmer's. I rode Max around for a few minutes and knew he would be fine. Then the daughter got on and she rode just like me. I knew Max would be good for her. She cantered him as well, which neither of the other girls did.
Then mum got on and it became obvious she's had very few lessons. She was a bag of nerves, and was asking Max to go forwards with her legs while pulling with her hands, which obviously confused him. I talked her through it, and very soon she was trotting him round the school, and looked fine. Mr O suggested to the daughter that she might like to ride Max back up the road. I gave him a daggers look, but as it happened, Max was immaculate, and she even cantered him on the verge, the first one to do that, too. He pulled up as soon as requested, and she seemed very pleased, and rode him the rest of the way back to the yard.
I said they should go away and think about it, but by 2pm the daughter had phoned me back and said they would have him. I knew it. They asked if they could bring a deposit over, and came back just after 4pm. I wrote out a receipt. They asked if they could have him vetted, which is no problem as far as I'm concerned, as he's never been ill, and certainly doesn't have anything wrong with his legs or spine or anything like that, so I don't see how he could fail.
I showed them his passport, which obviously I will hand over on completion. I showed them what he eats, and said his vaccinations and worming are all up to date. He needs to see a dentist in July, and has brand new shoes on, so that's good.
So, obviously I have felt physically sick ever since. The daughter has just rung me to say the vet will be coming tomorrow. It is actually our own vet as well, so that should be okay. I know that at some stage I am going to bawl my head off, but I'm not sure when. I told them if they can't get transport, we will be able to take him over on Saturday, but please don't think I'm being funny if I don't go, but I can't put him in somebody else's stable and walk away and leave him, especially if he whinnies at me. I feel so sick, just thinking about it. I have had enough separations since we moved here, I can't do another one.
My whole life has revolved around this horse, for the past six years, my home life, my job, my free time, have all been based on his needs and requirements, so it feels very strange to think he won't be there. I've told Mr O to take his name plate off his stable door, because it confronts me every time I go into the stables. I have photos of him around the house and on my computer, everything is based on him. What a gap there will be.

And now to briefly describe the antics of Sunday as Mr O and I took Barnaby and Zak to a show. It was a beautifully warm day, and the horses were very clean in the morning after their bath the night before. Missis had plaited Zak and he looked fabulous. She'd done his tail as well. We've never seen him plaited before. It felt very peculiar not to be taking Max, though. We loaded up and set off. The showground is only about 20 minutes away, so it wasn't long before we were pulling onto the field and unloading. I must admit, I was very proud to be unloading this gleaming white horse.
We had a look round the showground, to see which ring was which, as we've never been to Wingerworth show before. We signed in at the secretary's tent, and I put Barnaby down for Cob/Hunter, Most Handsome Horse and Ridden Cob/Hunter. We decided to have a go at the minimus (clear round jumping) as well as it looked really easy.
We watched several of the classes, then went to put the horse's bridles on, as we were doing an in-hand class first. Missis turned up by then, with Seven and Ten. We were standing chatting, when Zak, unbeknown to Mr O, stood on his reins. Mr O pushed him gently backwards, Zak turned his head and half his bridle snapped and fell onto the floor. Mr O was very swift, and caught him by the remaining bit of bridle. Now it was panic stations as we didn't have any spare tack. Even his bit had fallen onto the floor. With great presence of mind, Missis dashed over to the sale stall and bought a new bridle. We had to carefully lead Zak back to the lorry, tie him up and quickly take off the old bridle, attach his bit to the new one and put it on quick! By the time we'd done it and gone back up it was time to go in the ring.
This is where the fun started really, as Barnaby didn't want to be separated from Zak. It was a nightmare. It took all my strength to hold onto him. In the end I managed to circle away and come in behind Zak so Barnaby knew where he was, but when we had to come out individually and run our horses up in front of the judge, Barnaby just tanked up the field with me holding on for dear life. He nearly wrenched my arm off, and he was in a double bridle, so I couldn't do much else anyway. If that doesn't stop him, nothing will.
I found it very odd, because I had Barnaby on my right, which is correct, but I couldn't see over him or past him to the judge. I am so used to Max being small that I can see over him to what the judge is directing us to do. She didn't say anything out loud either, so it was quite disorienting, knowing when to stop, go, start trotting etc.
Then of course Mr O had to take Zak out of the line to the judge and run him up and Barnaby was desperate to go with him, so I had to cling on and make him stand. By the time we got out I thought my arm was going to drop off. Neither of us got placed, which I can understand about Barnaby, because of his behaviour, but Zak looked fabulous and was impeccably behaved throughout. Showing is a funny game, though. It's all down to what the judge likes, which is why Mr O got fed up with it before.
When he said that I actually realised that Barnaby hasn't been to a show since 2007, because of his injury, and when Mr O did show him he did things like show jumping and Working Hunter, which Barnaby did really well in, so that may be the way forward for me.
BUT Mr O decided to go and jump Zak and Barnaby went ballistic left by himself at the lorry. He was pawing the floor, leaning on the lorry, trying to pull away and break the lead rope, then started rearing. At the really big one, I could see his tummy button, so you can imagine how high he was. I put some gloves on so that if he got free I could grab the lead rope without burning my hands, although I had visions of being carted across the showground, being dragged along on the grass, in true James Herriot style. Fortunately Mr O could see what was happening and came back. The queue at the clear round was really long, anyway.
So a bit of a disaster, really. I decided to withdraw from my other classes and we came home. I had suggested we take Max with us so there would always be company for the horse left at the lorry, and really that would have been a very good idea, but if Max is sold, we won't be able to do that at future shows anyway (unless we borrow Fudge?) so we need to think what to do next time. Part of the reason for selling Max is that he and Barnaby are too attached to each other, but if Barnaby is going to attach himself to Zak instead, it won't have made any difference, will it? I think I am so amazed, because Barnaby is such a strong, bold horse, I can't believe he gets into such a state by being left on his own. I could go on about this, but I think I'll leave it there, and we'll see what happens at the next show in May. If not, it's pleasure rides for us, or we'll have to take one horse and leave the other one at home, but that's such a shame for the one who can't bring their horse. I'm sure a solution will present itself in time.