(Read this post quickly because I suspect it won't be staying up for long.)
As some of you have noticed, I have really started to move my clientele in the right direction! Over the last year and a half , I have implemented some pretty strict policies. I've increased the price of evaluations, cracked down on my driving radius, and stopped tolerating people who are inconsistent with their horses.
The racehorse gig has really helped me be able to put my foot down from a financial standpoint because I now have a steady back up income year round, just in case.
It helps that Mike is super, super supportive. His attitude on the crazies has always been, "They're not worth it, kick 'em to the curb. We'll figure it out."
I am thrilled to report that I currently have exactly zero crazy clients. I look forward to every single one of my lessons. There are still ups and downs, and days when the weather is terrible and nobody wants to leave their houses. Horses are still horses and they occasionally get hurt or have off days. Overall, however, every single horse I am currently working with is a solid citizen with a dedicated owner who lessons on a regular basis. Go me!
With that said, I did not manage to get all the way through 2018 without a single crazy client. Now that they're officially removed and blocked on Facebook, I've decided that you guys would probably get a kick out of a good old fashioned Dom's Crazy Client Chronicles story. After all, it's been a while since I got to write one of these up ;)
To make up for the distinct lack of other crazies in 2018, the winner of the annual This Is Why Dom Drinks Award is an entire family. Their names will be changed to protect the opinionated-with-big-mouths-in-the-local-horse-industry.
Showing posts with label morons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morons. Show all posts
Friday, June 21, 2019
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
January Dog Walks (And a bit of a rant...)
Despite the chaotic weather and short days, Mike and I managed to get the dogs out for a couple off-property walks last month.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
The Tale of Kansas' Crazy Owner
I hesitated to share this story. I try to be a positive and encouraging horse trainer. I run into my fair share of crazies in the horse world. Usually, I let them roll off my back and move on. In general, I try not to trash talk people online, and especially not on a public blog. Just because I disagree with someone, doesn't mean they are wrong. There is more than one way to skin a cat (or, train a horse for that matter). Once in a while, however, I run into one that's too good not to share. Here is the tale of 2016 Numb-nut Award Winner.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Random Things
1. Henrietta (the chicken with the broken leg) is doing very well. She's still inside, but she is standing and starting to move the bad leg. She has a good appetite and seems very content to be living in the Inn.
2. Mike and I were coming home from checking on 'my' six (SIX!) horses. It was dark and we were on a back road. Mike gave me a heads up about some deer running into the road. There was an Explorer coming the other way and I flashed my high beams at him to try to warn him. He didn't even slow down, even when the first deer ran in front of his car, and clipped the second deer. There was a burst of blood and the deer did a back flip with a sickening crack. She got up and ran off, but I don't think she'll survive. And the guy just sort of gave me this confused, semi-accusing look. I dunno, but if there was a car STOPPED in the road, flashing its high beams at me, I might slow down long enough to take a look. Pay attention to your surroundings, people!!!
3. Then we stopped at the liquor store in preparation for the Super Bowl (the one day a year when I turn into a football fan). In the parking lot was a Volvo station wagon with a young (maybe six year old) kid alone inside. At night. In the liquor store parking lot. Alone. I wanted to leave a note on the windshield that said, "Parents of the year, you guys are."
Saturday, August 18, 2012
CP's Second Dressage Show
On Thursday, I took CP for his second dressage show at DVHA. In stark contrast to our debut, I was completely unconcerned. I knew where I was going, what I was doing, and how I should expect to fare. At the last second, I recruited Erin to be my reader. I know the tests by now, but I still worry that I'll forget something once I'm actually in the ring.
It turns out that Thursday was wardrobe malfunction day for me. The zipper on my tall boots came apart when I was getting ready before my warm up. Thankfully, Jen had a pair of black half chaps in her trailer, so that saved the day. My calves are much bigger than hers, but I made it work. Thank goodness it's a schooling show! The tall boots will need to see a cobbler before championships (and I think there's going to be an elastic gusset in my future).
My big mistake for the day was that I warmed CP up too much. I really think I bored him and wore him out before he even entered the ring for his first test. Half an hour is way too much. I think he's fine with a 10-15 minute warm up just to loosen him up a little bit. He was pretty good in the warm up. He needed to look at the banners on the rail a few times before he stopped thinking about them, but once he got over that, he was giving me good stretches of relaxed trot. We spent a lot of time hanging out by the gate with Erin. CP even gained an adoring young fan, who very politely asked me if she could pet my horse. I keep reminding CP that if he keeps being good, he can have a little girl of his own some day.
This time, Mike had a short-ish day at work and was able to make it in time for both of my tests, despite the fact that we were going off nearly half an hour earlier than last time.
I entered the lower ring for Intro A, cool, calm, and ready to do it. There was an office mix up with my number (I was signed up as 180, but they gave me 292 when I checked in), but that got sorted out right away. The judge wished me luck and rang her bell.
CP blew our entrance at A right off the bat. Despite my best steering, he refused to stay straight down the centerline. Instead, he kept drifting to the right, and missed X by a good bit before I was able to correct him. My jabs to the right side of his rib cage went unheeded. I suspect he was trying to get over to Mike, the cookie/scratch man, who was standing on the rail with the camera. Thankfully, we reached C well enough and tracked successfully to the right like normal riders.
Our first 20m circle was sloppy, and I wasn't really surprised. CP was definitely less bendy to the right than usual.
Perhaps the strangest thing about the first test was that I really had to boot CP along to keep him moving. He really felt sluggish as we made our way around the letters. I couldn't figure out what the heck was going on, and despite my outwardly calm demeanor, I felt like I had completely blown the test. I saluted at the end and approached the judge.
"You had a very nice ride," she told me.
"Really? I felt like it was terrible!"
She went on to tell me that my second circle was much better than my first and that we had some really nice moments at the trot. She also complimented our contact. I can't complain about having to push through some laziness with a pony who used to explode into the air at the mere thought of a rider.
It didn't take long to figure out just why CP was such a slug in the first test. As soon as we were in the grass, he practically crossed his legs. Before long, he found a good spot, parked way out, and took a giant pee. He'd probably been holding it since we left the barn! He grunted in relief and immediately loosened up EVERYWHERE. Much better.
My buddy from the Horse Park was riding two back to back tests in the upper ring before me, but she offered to let me sneak CP in in between rounds. I took her up on the offer, wanting to get it over with and get the pony home. The judge thanked me for my willingness to step in.
I have great news. We had halts this week! CP marched right down the centerline and stopped squarely while I saluted. Good man!!!
Once again, I blew the circle, but this time it was entirely my fault. I'm used to my 20x40 arena so when I ride in the 20x60 I make my circle too big on the first side, then do it correctly for the second side, effectively creating a ~20m egg. Oops.
I will say that I was pleased with CP's responsiveness through the transitions. It was also the first time he seemed to actually loosen up in his free walk. Progress! I finished the test feeling pretty satisfied, and with a pretty good idea of what we need to work on next.
The judge seemed to really love CP and called him all sorts of wonderful things when she heard his story.
"I will tell you," she said, "that I gave you a 9 on your trot to medium walk transition." My jaw nearly hit the ground. Our first 9!! I was delighted. "But... did you ever take geometry in high school?"
I laughed. "No, I think I skipped that one."
"That would explain it. You need to work on your circles."
"Yup."
"I think you're on the right track though. You had a very good ride. Good luck with him!"
"Thank you."
And then I got involved in some massive drama. It just wouldn't be horse showing without it.
On the other side of the parking lot was a cluster of rigs with an even bigger cluster of snotty show kids. I know one of the teenage girls was riding in a Kimberwick and after her horse had enough of her gacking on his mouth, he dumped her and she had to be seen by the medics. She seems to be fine, but it was still a poor judgement call on the mom/trainer's part.
At the end of the day, I saw a lot of commotion over by one of their trailers. A gaggle of people were trying to load an unruly warmblood mare, first up the back of their trailer, then up the side ramp. The poor horse was rearing and kicking out and just looked generally unhappy. Mike said something to me, but I decided to stay out of it, as usual.
That is, I stayed out of it until, about 20 minutes in, these people had the mare all but hog-tied with the lunge line and were beating her relentlessly with a broom.
After checking with Erin that I wasn't breaking some unspoken show world rule, I approached the scene.
Very calmly I said, "Hi. I don't mean to offend anybody. Please feel free to tell me to just go away, but I trailer load horses professionally. Would you mind if I give her a try?"
The heavyset woman who was putting a chain on the horse replied, "Yes please. Just do me a favor and don't flip her over." Really, that should have been the second I walked away, but I really wanted to help this poor horse.
As it turns out, this mare had sat in a field for the first five years of her life basically untouched. The trainer had loaded her for the first time ever earlier that afternoon. When the mare didn't immediately step onto the trailer, they lost their patience and did the old lunge-line-behind-the-haunches trick and forced her into the trailer.
Congratulations. You had the opportunity to make a horse's first trailer loading experience into a learning experience. Instead, you just did way more damage than you can even comprehend.
The mare was no dummy and figured out that if she stood sideways to the ramp, they couldn't physically pulley her into the box. Add the fact that they took away the horse's ability to step backwards if she became unsure of herself, and you have a mare who resorted to kicking out in protest. In the first few minutes that I had her, she tried to barge through me, cow kick me, and rip backwards away from me. She didn't succeed at any of the above, and ten minutes later I had her standing calmly with her two front feet on the ramp to the trailer.
That's when the heavy set woman (who I realized by now was in charge of the whole operation) stepped forward and snapped, "I'll have my horse back now, thanks." She ripped the lead rope out of my hands.
Very calmly I replied, "Ok. Good luck with her. Have a good night."
Mike was muttering darkly as I walked away, but I really thought that would be the end of it. A few minutes later, the horse was in the trailer and Mike and I were up at the show office waiting for my test results. I casually looked out the window and spotted our mom/trainer friend stalking up the hill and looking pissed.
"Uh oh, I bet she's coming up here to say something to me," I observed. I debated ducking out the back door of the office, but decided that I'm really much too old to be hiding from people who are mean.
"I don't think she knows we're up here," Mike reasoned.
"No, no... I'm pretty sure she's coming up here to yell." That angry walk is unmistakable.
Moments later, the office door slammed open and in stomped an angry bull of a woman. She glared at me and pointed an accusing finger in my face. Mike stepped defensively between us, but held his tongue.
"I don't appreciate the way you approached that situation," she growled. "And I just wanted to come up here and give you some feedback."
I wanted to just apologize and tell her I didn't need feedback and call it a night, but before I could open my mouth, she tutted over me like she was scolding a dog, "Upp, upp, upp..."
THAT did it for me. I'm sorry, I am not your fucking dog. You don't get to upp-upp me. We are both adults. You are twice my age. You are NOT going to speak to me like that. I thought Mike was going to slam the door in her face. Or hit her. Maybe both.
She whirled on Mike, "And I see you over there, rolling your eyes and laughing because you think your girlfriend or whomever," she was practically spitting, "is perfect."
"No. I just think you need to calm down," he retorted before falling silent again.
She went back to lecturing me. "I was trying to teach my daughter something." Yeah, I heard your brat of a kid walking around the showgrounds talking about how her pony, Chocolate, is being a real shit this week, and how 'Chocolate really needs a good beating.' Good parenting. "And I don't appreciate the fact that you stepped in."
"Did I or did I not ask you very politely if you wanted my help?"
"You did."
"And did I or did I not willingly give you your horse back the second that you asked?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"If you didn't want my help, the correct answer to my offer was 'no thank you' and we could have left it at that."
"Well, I just wanted to give you some feedback on your method. I'm a horse trainer and I think my feedback is valuable. You're young and you need to learn a thing or two."
"Lady, people like you call me in six months when that horse flips over and hurts somebody. I did learn a thing or two tonight, thank you. I learned NOT to approach people like you and offer my help. I need to wait until you go to far and come to me. In the future, I will turn a blind eye and ignore your struggles. Thank you for opening my eyes to the error of my ways."
"I just wanted to tell you that that mare has never kicked out at an aid before tonight. She has never reared before." Bullshit, I watched her kick and rear for twenty minutes before I finally stepped in. "And she has certainly never bled from her gums before."
At this point, I lost it a little bit. "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa... I did not have a damn thing in your horse's mouth when I worked with her. I had her in a leather halter."
"Well, she wasn't bleeding when I worked with her..."
This time it was me who raised her voice and cut the other woman off, "Don't you DARE go insinuating that I in any way abused your horse. If your horse's gums are bleeding, that's something YOU need to be ashamed of and maybe YOU need to re-evaluate YOUR techniques."
She blathered on for a while, repeating a lot of what she'd already said about offering feedback and the correct way to approach people in a show setting and blah, blah, blah...
Eventually she got to the point (the point where she's trying to save face because she's ashamed of her atrocious behavior). "The way you handle this after tonight is very important and you need to be careful what you tell people."
"What I tell people? You and your horse are not that important to me. After this week, I won't think about it again."
"Well, I don't know what you observed or what you saw or what you thought you saw..."
"O, you mean the part where you were beating your horse with a broom?" The kid gloves came off.
"I did NOT beat her with a broom."
"Everyone in the parking area saw you beating that horse with a broom. That is NOT ok."
"O, but it's ok to hit her ten times harder than that with a crop like you were doing??"
Anybody who has ever seen me trailer load a horse knows how ridiculous THAT accusation is. If you think I can physically hit a horse as hard with a crop as you were hitting her with that broom, thank you. I didn't think I was that strong. I'm flattered.
"There is more than one technique, and your method isn't always correct," she continued on.
Deciding that I was done with the conversation, I made my closing statement. "Yes. You are right. There are many ways to handle a horse. It's YOUR horse. It is your job to be her advocate and look out for her best interest. I'm sorry my method wasn't well received and that I messed up your horse. Sincerely, I'm sorry." Her eyes were burning into mine, sensing the sarcasm, but unable to argue with the words without looking bad. "You got her on the trailer. Congratulations and good luck with her. I'm sure I'll see you at championships. Have a good night."
And she stormed away.
What I WANTED to say, and might have if this hadn't happened right in front of the show secretary was, "If you want to man handle a horse into a trailer, fine. You're not quite a thousand pounds, though you are getting there, so I'm not sure you'll have much luck."
And after watching them peel out of the show driveway, I'm not surprised the horse didn't enjoy her ride down to the show in the Box of Death.
Next time, I'm taking pictures, finding out the so called trainer's name, and outing her all over the entire internet horse community. The photos would speak for themselves.
The show secretary rolled her eyes as I apologized for the scene, then handed me my scores.
In the first test, CP scored 66%, a whole percent higher than last time. He got a bunch of 7's and an 8 for his change of rein at the trot (and for his gaits). I think we may have broken 70 if he hadn't blown the entrance (our first 5. Ouch.) and if I knew what a circle was. Overall, no complaints.
And on the second test.
Drum roll please...
The pony scored a whopping 73%. Again, I was left slack jawed. 8 for his halt, 9 for the transition, 8 for the free walk, 8 fo rthe medium walk, 8 for the trot transition, 8 for the other halt. 8 for rider position and 8 for rider effectiveness (although I maintain that he would be even better if I stayed out of his way).
I think it's time to move up! Unfortunately, we're only qualified for Intro at the championships. I will be doing test C and *gasp* cantering though.
We left the show grounds after I thanked Erin for reading and Mike for having my back against Trainer-Mom. (He says I did a good job holding my own, but he was ready to step in if I looked distressed at all.) Mike wasn't quite over the whole thing, but I reminded him that 90% of show people are crazy and that it's why I DON'T normally show (no offense to you wonderful people who do).
But the eventful nature of the night was far from over. On the way home, we were making our way up the big hill on 31. I was in the right lane, minding my own business and talking to Erin when I heard the awful scrape of metal on metal. CP's nose ducked back into the trailer and my first response was, "What the hell? I'm nowhere near the guardrail!!!"
I could see Mike in the side mirror, swerving to avoid some kind of debris in the road.
At the top of the hill, I put on my four-ways and started to pull over, fearing the worst, but Mike waved us on. I had Erin called him and he informed us that we had simply lost a heat shield on the truck. It hadn't done any damage and when I told Jen, she shrugged and said, "Huh. I thought I took that off already." I think truck-truck needs a good once-over.
So there you have it. My overly-exciting foray back into the world of Dressage Queens.
It turns out that Thursday was wardrobe malfunction day for me. The zipper on my tall boots came apart when I was getting ready before my warm up. Thankfully, Jen had a pair of black half chaps in her trailer, so that saved the day. My calves are much bigger than hers, but I made it work. Thank goodness it's a schooling show! The tall boots will need to see a cobbler before championships (and I think there's going to be an elastic gusset in my future).
My big mistake for the day was that I warmed CP up too much. I really think I bored him and wore him out before he even entered the ring for his first test. Half an hour is way too much. I think he's fine with a 10-15 minute warm up just to loosen him up a little bit. He was pretty good in the warm up. He needed to look at the banners on the rail a few times before he stopped thinking about them, but once he got over that, he was giving me good stretches of relaxed trot. We spent a lot of time hanging out by the gate with Erin. CP even gained an adoring young fan, who very politely asked me if she could pet my horse. I keep reminding CP that if he keeps being good, he can have a little girl of his own some day.
This time, Mike had a short-ish day at work and was able to make it in time for both of my tests, despite the fact that we were going off nearly half an hour earlier than last time.
I entered the lower ring for Intro A, cool, calm, and ready to do it. There was an office mix up with my number (I was signed up as 180, but they gave me 292 when I checked in), but that got sorted out right away. The judge wished me luck and rang her bell.
Our first 20m circle was sloppy, and I wasn't really surprised. CP was definitely less bendy to the right than usual.
Perhaps the strangest thing about the first test was that I really had to boot CP along to keep him moving. He really felt sluggish as we made our way around the letters. I couldn't figure out what the heck was going on, and despite my outwardly calm demeanor, I felt like I had completely blown the test. I saluted at the end and approached the judge.
"You had a very nice ride," she told me.
"Really? I felt like it was terrible!"
It didn't take long to figure out just why CP was such a slug in the first test. As soon as we were in the grass, he practically crossed his legs. Before long, he found a good spot, parked way out, and took a giant pee. He'd probably been holding it since we left the barn! He grunted in relief and immediately loosened up EVERYWHERE. Much better.
My buddy from the Horse Park was riding two back to back tests in the upper ring before me, but she offered to let me sneak CP in in between rounds. I took her up on the offer, wanting to get it over with and get the pony home. The judge thanked me for my willingness to step in.
Once again, I blew the circle, but this time it was entirely my fault. I'm used to my 20x40 arena so when I ride in the 20x60 I make my circle too big on the first side, then do it correctly for the second side, effectively creating a ~20m egg. Oops.
I will say that I was pleased with CP's responsiveness through the transitions. It was also the first time he seemed to actually loosen up in his free walk. Progress! I finished the test feeling pretty satisfied, and with a pretty good idea of what we need to work on next.
The judge seemed to really love CP and called him all sorts of wonderful things when she heard his story.
"I will tell you," she said, "that I gave you a 9 on your trot to medium walk transition." My jaw nearly hit the ground. Our first 9!! I was delighted. "But... did you ever take geometry in high school?"
I laughed. "No, I think I skipped that one."
"That would explain it. You need to work on your circles."
"Yup."
"I think you're on the right track though. You had a very good ride. Good luck with him!"
"Thank you."
On the other side of the parking lot was a cluster of rigs with an even bigger cluster of snotty show kids. I know one of the teenage girls was riding in a Kimberwick and after her horse had enough of her gacking on his mouth, he dumped her and she had to be seen by the medics. She seems to be fine, but it was still a poor judgement call on the mom/trainer's part.
At the end of the day, I saw a lot of commotion over by one of their trailers. A gaggle of people were trying to load an unruly warmblood mare, first up the back of their trailer, then up the side ramp. The poor horse was rearing and kicking out and just looked generally unhappy. Mike said something to me, but I decided to stay out of it, as usual.
That is, I stayed out of it until, about 20 minutes in, these people had the mare all but hog-tied with the lunge line and were beating her relentlessly with a broom.
After checking with Erin that I wasn't breaking some unspoken show world rule, I approached the scene.
Very calmly I said, "Hi. I don't mean to offend anybody. Please feel free to tell me to just go away, but I trailer load horses professionally. Would you mind if I give her a try?"
The heavyset woman who was putting a chain on the horse replied, "Yes please. Just do me a favor and don't flip her over." Really, that should have been the second I walked away, but I really wanted to help this poor horse.
As it turns out, this mare had sat in a field for the first five years of her life basically untouched. The trainer had loaded her for the first time ever earlier that afternoon. When the mare didn't immediately step onto the trailer, they lost their patience and did the old lunge-line-behind-the-haunches trick and forced her into the trailer.
Congratulations. You had the opportunity to make a horse's first trailer loading experience into a learning experience. Instead, you just did way more damage than you can even comprehend.
The mare was no dummy and figured out that if she stood sideways to the ramp, they couldn't physically pulley her into the box. Add the fact that they took away the horse's ability to step backwards if she became unsure of herself, and you have a mare who resorted to kicking out in protest. In the first few minutes that I had her, she tried to barge through me, cow kick me, and rip backwards away from me. She didn't succeed at any of the above, and ten minutes later I had her standing calmly with her two front feet on the ramp to the trailer.
That's when the heavy set woman (who I realized by now was in charge of the whole operation) stepped forward and snapped, "I'll have my horse back now, thanks." She ripped the lead rope out of my hands.
Very calmly I replied, "Ok. Good luck with her. Have a good night."
Mike was muttering darkly as I walked away, but I really thought that would be the end of it. A few minutes later, the horse was in the trailer and Mike and I were up at the show office waiting for my test results. I casually looked out the window and spotted our mom/trainer friend stalking up the hill and looking pissed.
"Uh oh, I bet she's coming up here to say something to me," I observed. I debated ducking out the back door of the office, but decided that I'm really much too old to be hiding from people who are mean.
"I don't think she knows we're up here," Mike reasoned.
"No, no... I'm pretty sure she's coming up here to yell." That angry walk is unmistakable.
Moments later, the office door slammed open and in stomped an angry bull of a woman. She glared at me and pointed an accusing finger in my face. Mike stepped defensively between us, but held his tongue.
"I don't appreciate the way you approached that situation," she growled. "And I just wanted to come up here and give you some feedback."
I wanted to just apologize and tell her I didn't need feedback and call it a night, but before I could open my mouth, she tutted over me like she was scolding a dog, "Upp, upp, upp..."
THAT did it for me. I'm sorry, I am not your fucking dog. You don't get to upp-upp me. We are both adults. You are twice my age. You are NOT going to speak to me like that. I thought Mike was going to slam the door in her face. Or hit her. Maybe both.
She whirled on Mike, "And I see you over there, rolling your eyes and laughing because you think your girlfriend or whomever," she was practically spitting, "is perfect."
"No. I just think you need to calm down," he retorted before falling silent again.
She went back to lecturing me. "I was trying to teach my daughter something." Yeah, I heard your brat of a kid walking around the showgrounds talking about how her pony, Chocolate, is being a real shit this week, and how 'Chocolate really needs a good beating.' Good parenting. "And I don't appreciate the fact that you stepped in."
"Did I or did I not ask you very politely if you wanted my help?"
"You did."
"And did I or did I not willingly give you your horse back the second that you asked?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"If you didn't want my help, the correct answer to my offer was 'no thank you' and we could have left it at that."
"Well, I just wanted to give you some feedback on your method. I'm a horse trainer and I think my feedback is valuable. You're young and you need to learn a thing or two."
"Lady, people like you call me in six months when that horse flips over and hurts somebody. I did learn a thing or two tonight, thank you. I learned NOT to approach people like you and offer my help. I need to wait until you go to far and come to me. In the future, I will turn a blind eye and ignore your struggles. Thank you for opening my eyes to the error of my ways."
"I just wanted to tell you that that mare has never kicked out at an aid before tonight. She has never reared before." Bullshit, I watched her kick and rear for twenty minutes before I finally stepped in. "And she has certainly never bled from her gums before."
At this point, I lost it a little bit. "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa... I did not have a damn thing in your horse's mouth when I worked with her. I had her in a leather halter."
"Well, she wasn't bleeding when I worked with her..."
This time it was me who raised her voice and cut the other woman off, "Don't you DARE go insinuating that I in any way abused your horse. If your horse's gums are bleeding, that's something YOU need to be ashamed of and maybe YOU need to re-evaluate YOUR techniques."
She blathered on for a while, repeating a lot of what she'd already said about offering feedback and the correct way to approach people in a show setting and blah, blah, blah...
Eventually she got to the point (the point where she's trying to save face because she's ashamed of her atrocious behavior). "The way you handle this after tonight is very important and you need to be careful what you tell people."
"What I tell people? You and your horse are not that important to me. After this week, I won't think about it again."
"Well, I don't know what you observed or what you saw or what you thought you saw..."
"O, you mean the part where you were beating your horse with a broom?" The kid gloves came off.
"I did NOT beat her with a broom."
"Everyone in the parking area saw you beating that horse with a broom. That is NOT ok."
"O, but it's ok to hit her ten times harder than that with a crop like you were doing??"
Anybody who has ever seen me trailer load a horse knows how ridiculous THAT accusation is. If you think I can physically hit a horse as hard with a crop as you were hitting her with that broom, thank you. I didn't think I was that strong. I'm flattered.
"There is more than one technique, and your method isn't always correct," she continued on.
Deciding that I was done with the conversation, I made my closing statement. "Yes. You are right. There are many ways to handle a horse. It's YOUR horse. It is your job to be her advocate and look out for her best interest. I'm sorry my method wasn't well received and that I messed up your horse. Sincerely, I'm sorry." Her eyes were burning into mine, sensing the sarcasm, but unable to argue with the words without looking bad. "You got her on the trailer. Congratulations and good luck with her. I'm sure I'll see you at championships. Have a good night."
And she stormed away.
What I WANTED to say, and might have if this hadn't happened right in front of the show secretary was, "If you want to man handle a horse into a trailer, fine. You're not quite a thousand pounds, though you are getting there, so I'm not sure you'll have much luck."
And after watching them peel out of the show driveway, I'm not surprised the horse didn't enjoy her ride down to the show in the Box of Death.
Next time, I'm taking pictures, finding out the so called trainer's name, and outing her all over the entire internet horse community. The photos would speak for themselves.
The show secretary rolled her eyes as I apologized for the scene, then handed me my scores.
In the first test, CP scored 66%, a whole percent higher than last time. He got a bunch of 7's and an 8 for his change of rein at the trot (and for his gaits). I think we may have broken 70 if he hadn't blown the entrance (our first 5. Ouch.) and if I knew what a circle was. Overall, no complaints.
And on the second test.
Drum roll please...
The pony scored a whopping 73%. Again, I was left slack jawed. 8 for his halt, 9 for the transition, 8 for the free walk, 8 fo rthe medium walk, 8 for the trot transition, 8 for the other halt. 8 for rider position and 8 for rider effectiveness (although I maintain that he would be even better if I stayed out of his way).
I think it's time to move up! Unfortunately, we're only qualified for Intro at the championships. I will be doing test C and *gasp* cantering though.
We left the show grounds after I thanked Erin for reading and Mike for having my back against Trainer-Mom. (He says I did a good job holding my own, but he was ready to step in if I looked distressed at all.) Mike wasn't quite over the whole thing, but I reminded him that 90% of show people are crazy and that it's why I DON'T normally show (no offense to you wonderful people who do).
But the eventful nature of the night was far from over. On the way home, we were making our way up the big hill on 31. I was in the right lane, minding my own business and talking to Erin when I heard the awful scrape of metal on metal. CP's nose ducked back into the trailer and my first response was, "What the hell? I'm nowhere near the guardrail!!!"
I could see Mike in the side mirror, swerving to avoid some kind of debris in the road.
At the top of the hill, I put on my four-ways and started to pull over, fearing the worst, but Mike waved us on. I had Erin called him and he informed us that we had simply lost a heat shield on the truck. It hadn't done any damage and when I told Jen, she shrugged and said, "Huh. I thought I took that off already." I think truck-truck needs a good once-over.
So there you have it. My overly-exciting foray back into the world of Dressage Queens.
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