Parachute

It seems to me that maybe more people in this country should own horses.

Yes, the election stressed me out. I work for the media and of course it seems that if you work for the media you are a dirty libtard with an agenda. I saw a photo of a man wearing a shirt that suggested journalists should be lynched. What a nice fellow. 

As you can imagine, Tuesday was not a fun night at work. And I certainly am not going to get into politics on this blog.

But I will say one thing.

When I went to the farm Wednesday morning - exhausted, numb, shocked. Hampton was there, as cheerful as ever. He greeted me like he always does. He gave zero shits about what had just happened. He gave me so much peace, because no matter who was elected - the horses still need fed, the stalls need cleaned, water buckets filled. We have to kick on.

Porkchop

Meanwhile, we have been training training training. I haven't been to any more clinics or shows because I am flat broke. I'm not sure how I will show next year, but I always figure something out. 

What's been on our plate lately?

- Making him hotter off the leg. 

- Softer connection

- Right bend (it has gone to shit lately. Which in turn has destroyed the right half pass. Please right bend, come back!)

- Challenging him in the collection

Half steps

- Developing the pirouette for the show ring

- Half pass zig zags

- Tempi changes

Yes ... we now get clean changes 95% of the time. Now we have to start learning to count.

FINALLY.

No stirrup November!

- Riding without stirrups.

(and by that I mean I did so .... ummm ... one day so far)

- Enjoying our morning hacks/warm up walks

- Body clipped!

He looks so good. So shiney and well muscled right now. I am super pleased with the feeding program at this farm. His cribbing also seems mostly under control with the collar. I did just pull his hind shoes for the winter and he seems to be just fine with that arrangement. He gets to keep his front shoes, but at least I'll save a little cash.

I wish I had more exciting news to report .. or at least better photos. Booo.

Bloggers - is there anything you want to read about in my blog? I need post ideas! 

___

Sun comes up and goes back down
And falling feels like flying till you hit the ground
Say the word and I’ll be there for you
Baby, I will be your parachute

Back home again in Indiana

Royale is back at his Indiana home now. Liz came and picked him up Sunday.

#nerdalert!

Before she left, we took the boys out on a brief trail ride around the farm. Supposedly there is a way to ride to Flying Cross Farm, but I could not find the trail. There was a lot of bushwhacking and I really did not want to get lost. Although it wouldn't have been the first time.

But nevertheless Royale (and Hampton, duh) was very good for our stroll and short little hack in the arena. He has come so far and I will miss having him around everyday. Feels weird to be down to just one horse again! So much spare time!

These two tho

The plan is for the little nugget to come back down to KY in March, and then we will start to actively list him for sale. Right now he is about ready to show Training 1. I'd like to have him just a little more solid before listing him officially though. He is a good boy, just still a little wiggly and unbalanced. Totally normal and to be expected.

Meanwhile Hampton and I just keep plugging away! He is due for his first body clip of the year. That's on the list for this week.

Bye, felicia nasty hair!

The Kick Ditch

Cameo by Liz and Atti, along with myself and Royale.

There is a blog post I would like to share with you all.

This author puts into words something so important, and something that I think many of us - especially for some reason dressage riders - lose at times.

It's about appreciating the little things. Appreciating people. Maybe the next time you want to judge someone on how they ride, or what their horse is - maybe think twice before making a snide comment. We are all just trying our best on our own journeys. Be kind. Be a kick ditch.

Here is the link.

***

After finishing an amazing novel, The Fault In Our Stars by John Green, I put down my hard-copy and marveled at the power of the written word. This power was most evident by my multiple ear-tagged pages--pages that held expertly chosen words construed into sentences, paragraphs and chapters of brilliancy by this gifted author. Simply put, Mr. Green's eloquence affected my core, constantly leaving me in awe at how he pierced my emotional protective shell with his intimate portrayals and intrusions into the struggling lives of others. 

At one point in this book, a main character was sitting on her lawn, staring at her aging swing set, wistfully remembering the innocent beautiful moments of her childhood. Moments that were no more. And with this visual of her swing set, I was suddenly transported back to my own childhood--back to the powder-blue swing set that sat in our family's yard alongside the lilac bushes and sandbox. Back to the rusted swing set with the plastic pony sitting under the mulberry tree at Gramma's house. Back to my small town's playground of numerous swings dangling from both rigid piping and clanging chains. Back to the numerous handmade swings crafted from wood planks and tires hanging from old roping that we hinged along obnoxiously obtrusive tree branches that overshadowed our chosen paths. Our paths of childhood...

Perhaps the most stunning visual of these revisits to my past, though, were not the swing sets and random swings themselves, but rather that linear trench of worn earth that seemed to befriend each and every swing. You know that trench, right? I would bet that each of you had at one point or another in your childhood also dragged your toe through one of these trenches during an innocent, happy moment of your promising youth.  It was a time when the big old world was held at bay and your smaller, more intimate world was all you pictured your future to be. This trench sat unassumingly right underneath each swing, below ground-level, filling up with water after a hard rainfall, catching a loose flip-flop off the ill-prepared foot of an eager child or housing that stubborn rock that lied in wait to stub our toe.

The kick ditch.

I attributed my high-flying on the swing of life to my proper leg-swinging, straightening them to touch the sky when going up and bending them at the knees to reach back as I came back down. My legs I could control. Yet, that little ditch kept my momentum going always, even allowing me push off to gain higher altitude.

This darn "kick ditch" image. After seeing it time and again with every memory of every swing I've ever screamed from, I began to think of what the kick ditch represents to me--of the many things that are present in my life that I did not give the proper attention. Things and people who have helped me with my forward momentum. Things that sit right in front of me, lost from my attention because something more glossy and glamorous distracted me.  Things that were content in sitting back within their clouds of anonymity. Things that I have not properly given the silent thanks and the appreciation they deserve.

My kids. Friends. Family. My spiritual lights and guides. Work. Simple gestures of kindness from strangers. Appreciation from patients and co-workers. Understanding and love from people whom I would least expect it. Compassion from non-judgmental people. Kick ditches that continue to support my momentum throughout my ride in life thus far. Kick ditches that I am now giving more cognizant attention.

Besides my legs, I also believed the people who stood behind me as I swung, pushing me to higher gains, would always be there. And yet, they aren't. Without blame and for a variety of reasons, it seem that the people pushing us on our swing are constantly changing with the snapshot moments of our lives. While reading this pivotal scene in the book, my mind was finally able to recognize the power of my little ditch in allowing my forward-motion. The power of my own legs to go higher and higher. All along, it may have been these "kick ditches" and my own legs that were most responsible for thrusting me forward in my life.

Recently, I turned 47 years old. Not a memorable birthday for most, but probably the year that I will remember most vividly in my lifetime. It has been a tortuously unpredictable year, a year of countless and uncontrollable changes. A year that I am blessed to have survived. A year of very intense internal work and self-reflection (accompanied with a significant amount of self-laceration). I have come to learn some really amazing things about my life and life in general. About the power of me. Clearly, I have learned that I am fractured. That each and every person around me is fractured. Mostly,  I have learned that we all have the opportunity to embrace, ignore, or further trample our fellow neighbor during life's struggles. I have learned to embrace. I have learned to appreciate those who embrace. I continue to appreciate those who want to push my swing forward. I appreciate the power of my own legs in controlling my gains in altitude. I appreciate the "kick ditches" that only want to help support my forward motion.

It is humbling to learn that our choices and behaviors can affect so many people in so many ways. It is humbling to learn that others' choices and behaviors once had the power to affect me in so many ways. I am thankful for the people who can forgive. I am regretful and sorry to the people that can't forget. I am appreciative of the people who remember the goodness that makes me special in my own way.

Most importantly, I've learned that love, kindness, compassion, friendships, and family can sustain one through just about anything. I have also come to learn sad realities; that each and every one of us have people in our lives that can judge and abandon us the minute our fractures are exposed. The people who once offered you the most support, who tirelessly pushed you on the swing, might just up and leave. If they do, are you prepared to dip your toe into your kick ditch? Are you prepared to swing your legs as hard as you can to control your own flight through life? Instead of allowing another to sit in judgment and trample you, are you prepared to offer your too-proud hand to the one who wants to help you from the ground on which you are plastered?

Don't be one who forgets that you too are human and will never be immune to your own fractures and missteps. That one day you too may need forgiveness. Be the one who offers a hand to help up a fallen neighbor so that when you need a hand, your fallen neighbor will be there for you. Be the one who forgives so that when you need forgiveness, it will come for you. Be the one who strives to see the goodness in another the same way you want someone to see the goodness in you.

Be the one who helps another swing higher when they dip their toe below ground. Be the one who keeps those around you moving forward to higher ground in their lives.

Be a kick ditch.

Pentsosan pondering

About 3 months ago, I started Hampton on Pentsosan.

Have to be sure he stays comfortable for his artistic body art hobby.

Here's why:

1) He is big. Enormous. A moose, basically. This means more stress on joints.

2) His job includes work that he really was not bred or built to do.

3) I don't want to start injecting him until I have to.

4) He isn't having big issues, but can be locked in his back and in his neck at times. Massage and chiro help (and the Theraplate, but we no longer have access to that). I was looking for something to just help him out a little. Oral joint supplements are fine, but basically just result in expensive poo.

5) It's quite affordable ($25/injection. Given once a month)

What is Pentsosan?
Sodium Pentosan Polysulfate is a concentrated anti-inflammatory and stimulant of cartilage synthesis, repair and protection. It is NOT a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug like bute. It's legal to use Pentsosan in USEF competitions.

My vet recommended a loading dose to start with. So one injection once a week, for 4 weeks. Hampton gets 5ccs, but he could do 6ccs in the future because of his size. Administer at a dose rate of 3 mg/kg body weight (1.5 g / 500 kg horse)

Gangsta.

What does it do?
Pentsosan is best used for non-infectious inflammatory joint disease, traumatic arthritis, degenerative cartilaginous joint disease, osteoarthritis and osteochondrosis dessicans in horses. It does not just mask the pain (like bute, etc) but supposedly alters the disease process. It stimulates joint healing and repair, and helps relieve inflammation.


How does it compare to other injectable joint supplements?
Here's a handy chart

Have I seen results?
Yes. Granted, it took about 6 weeks for me to really notice. It wasn't like I gave him the loading dose and all of a sudden he was super horse. I have noticed the greatest change in his canter. It has gotten far more jumpy. His extended canter went from flat and almost lateral, to a bounding, impressive movement. The changes are getting better, too, because he has more jump and I can keep him straighter in his body.

I have also noticed it is easier for him to half pass now. He no longer gets "stuck" in the canter half pass, and there is no more rein lameness in the trot half pass. Obviously, I have learned to ride it better and not hang on the inside rein, but I think the injection helped, too.

Because sometimes we jump shit, too.

Side effects
I have noticed only one side effect, and that is staining at the injection site. After reading up, I think maybe I need to go deeper in the muscle. Thankfully Hampton is dark bay, so it just looks like a sweat mark. Not sure if it stains the hair follicles or something? Otherwise, no side effects.

I give Pentsosan two thumbs up. It is affordable, easy to give (5ccs IM), and safe.

A rather sore subject

I've tried to be honest on this blog - about the struggles and success of my partnership with Hampton. So I am going to be blunt today. I know this issue greatly affects his resale value, and brings with it a whole host of problems. But there's no sense in hiding it.

Hampton is now a cribber.

Oh trust me, it makes me sick to talk about. I get a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when I watch him do it.

I feel like I have failed him.

Why now? Why has his started cribbing?

It started  a few weeks before we moved barns. I noticed him cribbing at breakfast. I was hoping that switching barns and a new, better diet would possibly nip it in the butt. Nope.

He has always lived outside 24/7 in his time with me. He did spend time in a stall during his weaning days, and a little bit as a 2 year old before I found him.

From what I have read, cribbing could be genetic. And Hampton's mother was a cribber, an OTTB. Thoroughbreds have a high rate of cribbing. Is this genetic? Was it a result of how he was weaned? Was it a result of poor diet somewhere along the way?

With Royale at the water.

And before anyone pipes up, yes I have treated him for ulcers. And I have another ulcer treatment in mind as well (he is going back on the blue pop rocks). He does not show any other of his usual ulcer signs (girthy, teeth grinding, etc.). But yes of course I will continue to treat him.

No, I don't believe horses learn to crib from other horses. Horses do not learn from observation. Is that was true, I will just show Hampton video of Valegro and see you all in the Grand Prix ring next year! And in any case, he has not lived with any cribbers (except his mother ....).

My only theory is 1) genetics and it has taken this long to develop because he has lived a healthy lifestyle and 2) his diet has lacked something at times, and he started chewing on the fence ... and then just eventually figured it out. I HAVE seen him chew on fences in the past (like actually take chunks off and eat it), but never actually suck in air and crib until now.

Am I stressing him out? Is he anxious about something? Does he hate his life?! UGH!! I feel like an utter failure as a horse owner. WTF!! He has always had pretty much 24/7 turnout, free choice grass and/or hay and has never been overloaded on grain.

So anyway. As you can tell, I am pissed about it and it is a sore subject. Pissed at myself, not him. It's not his fault and he isn't doing it to piss me off. I have my own OCD and anxiety disorder habits, so I do get it.

How can you hate this face?

I broke down and bought him a Miracle Collar. I have to say, it does appear to stop him from cribbing. I feel AWFUL putting it on and cranking it tight.

Also, he does not crib in the stall. Only on the fence outside. I would label him a mild cribber, and I hope he stays that way and does not turn into one of those obnoxious cribbers who tear up everything in sight. I worked with a stallion once who tried to crib on my shoulder. Jesus Christ, no.

Sigh.

I have more positive updates for next time, I promise!

Over and out.

Supermodels

I don't know what flew up my ass, but Sunday I decided to not only ride both boys but do a photoshoot as well.

Hampton was up first. He knows the drill and basically took the opportunity to eat grass and ignore me. I shook a grain bag. I shook a whip with a plastic bag tied to it. I whipped the bags around as hard as I could. I threw the bags AT HIM. I clucked. I slapped my boot.

Nothing.

He just stood there. Looking like a plow horse.

"As you can see, lady, I give zero shits."

oh I did briefly get him to lift his head.

Exasperated, I tried to think of something that would get Hampton's attention. He takes handsome photos as long as he has a little flame up his butt.

Hmmm.

And then I had an idea!

And suddenly I was getting photos like this:

What's the magic ingredient to Hampton's sexy photos?

The DONKEH!

I threw Hampton out with the donkey and the mini and he INSTANTLY was obsessed with the donkey. OBSESSED.

"Excuse me, I like you."

"No, you come back. You iz mine now"

Hamp: "OMG I LOVE YOU!!!!!"\
Donkey: "What the .... shiiiiiiiiiiiitttt!!!!"

"I love you please come here!"

Donkey kept trying to run for safety over to his friend the mini. Hampton HATED the mini and kept herding donkey away. He got a little evil a few times.

Donkey is mine now!!! I am Hampton ruler of the universe!

He apparently has cutting skillz

"I have a donkey now."

That's better! Less plow horse-like

Then it was Royale's turn! He was MUCH easier. In fact all I had to do was raise a plastic bag to about my hip and he took off prancing around like the Saddlebred he is. I didn't even have to make a noise or really move around any. 

He has really started to gain some weight and mature in his body. He is really coming along under saddle, too! His canter is going to be to-die-for.

Hoping to get some under saddle photos soon as well. Just need a photographer!! Both boys are doing great. Royale has about another month here with me, and then he will go back to Indiana with Liz for a while. Hampton and I are plugging along. STILL trying to make the changes better. argh.

First world problems tho. First world problems.

It's time to retire

It's time.

It has been my faithful protector since early 2013. It has survived nasty KY summers, freezing winters, trail rides (protecting me from numerous branches), a couple of show seasons and daily abuse. The logo has been knocked off the front. Once sporting a grey stripe, it is now a brown, dingy color. It smells of ... uhh ... something vile. It has served it's purpose.

Second level debut

Third level debut

every day riding

Being a nerd

Clinics, lessons

It actually started turning brown

Basically I wore the shit out of this helmet.

So it's time to retire.

Thanks for the service, my IRH helmet! I'm not sure what I am going to do with you now. I don't have the heart to just throw it in the dumpster. Guess it could be a "Standby" helmet for emergencies.

But since Saturday (today!!) is Helmet Awareness Day, I took advantage and bought a brand new helmet - for just $50!! I don't find the Ovations to be ugly, and I really wanted another helmet with some vents. The IRH helmet was just sweltering on some days. (and by some days, I mean 90% of this summer in KY. ugh)

It's nothing fancy (that title is reserved for my blingy OneK helmet, which only comes out for shows and clinics) ... but this guy will do!

Farewell, IRH!
#mindyourmelon