Okay, the subject line might be going a little too far. I certainly haven't tried to force Mitzi to read Twilight. However, the thing I find most annoying about its heroine, Bella Swan, is the way she whines and mopes about, horrors! having to live in a green and leafy place where it rains!

For the past week or so it's been hot and humid and sporadically sunny here in Halifax, and although Mitzi hasn't thrown an actual tantrum, Lease Girl reported some ear-pinning in the last couple of rides. This is something Mitzi does when she gets hot and cranky: she'll pin her ears but otherwise comply with whatever you ask. Normally she works out of it once she gets going, unless it's really hot and really sticky and frankly, I never ride on days like that anyway because yuck. Anyway, unlike the my-saddle-pad-hurts fit last week, the ear thing is more I-prefer-not-to-but-can-be-convinced.

Yesterday was overcast and humid and Mitzi was a little grumpy to begin with. Then the temperature dropped a bit and the drizzle turned into rain, and she cheered right up. So: one more vote for the Bella-is-a-dimwit camp.

The lesson went pretty well, Coach Girl took the stirrups right off Lease Girl's saddle and didn't give them back until nearly the end of the lesson. There was a repair job going on at the front of the barn, the doors were off and boards were being replaced. I had an unstable week, leg-wise, so I groomed Mitzi a bunch but didn't have the nerve to longe her (I just felt iffy enough to be cautious) and she therefore hadn't been worked nearly enough. But she didn't spook and didn't even look all that much, and Lease Girl was good about getting her attention back when she did gawk.

Right at the end Coach Girl put up a crossrail, which they'd gone over once before a couple of weeks ago. Lease Girl didn't use enough leg the first time and Mitzi stopped, but after that she'd trot up, pop over, and canter away without any fuss. She looked sort of amused. They went over it a total of maybe fives times, both directions, and Mitzi cantered away on the right lead both times but I think that would be easy to fix. And she didn't seem anxious or inclined to rush. The thing about Mitzi is, she's a timid horse but she's neither sharp nor hot so as long as she understands what we're doing she's pretty sensible.

Speaking of pretty sensible, when she was on the crossties after the lesson the gentleman working on the repairs tried to hang the top half of the dutch door. He got it in place but the prop holding it in place slipped and the door fell down with a fairly impressive crash behind us. When I got Mitzi a thing like that would have made her pull loose from the crossties and bolt, minimum. Last year she'd have set back on the crossties at the very least. Yesterday, she went "Yikes!" but probably jumped less than some of the people present, and seemed to forget about it right away. Even the door going back up didn't faze her.

So. Good girl!

Also, Bella is a nitwit.

It's an international list with a distinctly international flavour, to the extent that the members seem to keep in mind when they recommend products or trainers that the person they are speaking to may be halfway across the world.

It also has a couple of Russian members whose English (all posts are in English) may not be up to lengthy discussions--but they participate with images. One has a gorgeous grey gelding named Horsk, and she posts fairy-tale images of him. The fact that her captions are very brief just adds to the glamour by giving him a little air of mystery. The other posts images of her own stylized and astonishingly beautiful artwork. Here's an example. I swear, if I was going to get a tattoo, I would want her to design it. (Her journal is in Russian but it's open and she posts images of her other stuff, horsey and not. I think I'll ask if I can friend her just so I can see more of her art.)

Anyway. God bless digital cameras. And an otherwise sometimes rambunctious community's willingness to let members participate in ways that they can.

And someone, walk me home in case I pass a tattoo parlour and lose control entirely!

I ran out to the barn after work to drop off a cheque for the farrier. When I arrived Coach Girl was teaching a lesson in the ring to Black Mare and her girl. When I arrived they were trotting calmly and in a relaxed manner around the ring, and then then jumping over a two-fence crossrail bounce.

For illustration purposes, here is a video I found that includes a bounce in the middle of the line:


Black Mare was calm, relaxed, checked backwards and forwards with her ears to monitor her rider and pay attention to the jump, stayed soft, and even when she miscalculated and had to scuttle through the second crossrail, didn't hesitate to try again when asked. Honestly, you'd never think it was the same pair.

I mentioned, when the barn drama began, that I was going to start cracking down on dangerous activity by this pair (just as an adult who is present.) Well, last night I decided the flip side was to praise effusively when appropriate. And it was, so I did. Nice job, everyone! By the next fun show in August they'll be kicking butt!

I've posted before about the worrisome black mare at our barn, and about her promising progress at the trainer's. Well, she's back with us again and her demeanour when you bring her in from turnout is completely different and quite civilized.

On my day off on Tuesday, I happened to be at the barn when the black mare's people arrived, and was a first-hand witness to: the black mare walking quietly into the barn, standing patiently on cross-ties, and then when she was ridden going around with every appearance of calm, and no more stiffness than, say, Mitzi or any other equally green horse learning to relax in circles and come down on contact. Truly, you wouldn't believe it was the same pair.

Also, the kid and her mother spoke with anticipation of lessons with Coach Girl to keep them on track.

So far: win all around, and apparently what was needed was to learn what the right thing feels like. They don't look like they want to go back to their old scary habits at all.

There is not enough "Yay!" in the world...

Okay, I know it's a hard and thankless job being the mod/maintainer/whatever for a large Internet group. I know you can't please everybody.

However.

If your moderation style is hands-off, say so. Don't offer excuses for why you don't crack down when members go all Lord Of the Flies on each other. Just admit that you have no interest in doing so.

Also, if you have made it clear that you're not interested in appointing another moderator to help out, it's pretty pointless to counter complaints with "do you want this job?" Maybe, if the question were not rhetorical, the answer would be "yes."

With all that said, I'm now comfortable with my own approach of "consider the source." It's pointless to get all bent out of shape because a few assholes who attack everyone are attacking someone. They're assholes. That's how assholes behave. I need to scrape it off my shoe and move on--not "grow a thicker skin" or whatever non-advice the mods offer to get around the fact they don't moderate (which is fine if that's their approach, just be honest about it), but just not stress about the fact that some people are a complete waste of skin. Fuck 'em.

Heh. You being to see why I spend a lot of time in my own company. I don't tend to be overtly mean, but it occurs to me that I am probably condescending!

I have a couple of vacation days left to use up, so I'm leaving work very shortly and taking tomorrow off.

In between times, the Inner City Surfers are playing at Gus's tonight. Woohoo!

And I'll have time to drop in on Mitzi and longe her for a little bit before I have to go anywhere. That should fix me right up!

Also known as, "Even well-intentioned people can be fucking idiots sometimes. This includes me."

Mitzi was cranky as all hell in Lease Girl's lesson yesterday, to the point of hitting the brakes and backing up so Lease Girl had to use an open rein to turn her in a circle to get her moving forward again. She stopped at the gate several times at the beginning of the lesson and then went into the backing-up performance at the end.

Not in heat. Not gassy. Not like her.

The only difference was, she was wearing a new saddle pad that Lease Girl got as a group award at the schooling show. Lease Girl's mother and I were of the opinion the pad didn't fit properly and was annoying her. Did I insist on taking off all her tack and investigating? I did not.

And when we removed the saddle after the lesson, sure enough the pad had worked itself into a fold right down her spine. I'm sure another horse would have bucked someone off over that.

So, unequivocally: Mitzi does not misbehave without a damn good reason. If she's throwing a tantrum, something hurts. I am so mad at myself I almost wish she had bitten me when I was untacking her.

Instead, judging by her behaviour when I went back that night to tuck her in, she has already forgiven us for being such God-damned idiots. Coals of fire, indeed.

I mentioned this one someone else's blog--for serennig:



It's an Arlo Guthrie tune but I can never say no to a Johnny Cash version of anything. And as I say, every quarter horse I've ever sung it to liked it. (And no, I cannot sing.)

Okay, I can't run.

But the filly in the sale ad I saw today?





Run, baby, run!

(She is by a horse named Cool Blue Mouse, a nifty grullo quarter horse built like a cow pony and a little bigger than Mitzi. Not that I have any plans to breed her.)

Also, from the show on Saturday--a couple of guests who just came to show what they can do:



While trying to take their picture I accidentally recorded a video for a second. In retrospect, I should have let it run longer:



Okay, I don't know about you, but I feel better now.

I mentioned last week that Mitzi (or "Primadonna," as they did indeed call her for the day) was going to be in her very first horse show at our barn. It was a training show just for our gang, so the girls would get feedback from the judge (who was a qualified judge as well as a friend/coworker of Coach Girl) and the horses would get to go through the motions of being in a class setting and "collecting ring" in the safety of their own home, among friends. This seemed like a great idea for Mitzi.

( Long gushy illustrated entry about Mitzi's first show follows. )

At this rate, Lease Girl can call her any damn name she chooses. We're all already looking forward to the next show in the series--and to a possible clinic by our helpful and friendly judge!

Well, Sunday. Which is supposed to be sunny and warm.

Coach Girl and her friend who co-owns Benson have organized a training show for the barn gang. They have about a dozen classes and and outside judge, so it should be a good experience for the girls. Lease Girl is going to ride Mitzi. I think Lease Girl has done some showing before but she's excited about riding a first-timer horse. (Just being in a class with a bunch of other horses should be good experience for Mitzi, although of course since they're all her friends I can't imagine her getting very flustered.)

This being a show, Mitzi needs a show name. I confess I am weird about names: blame it on my background with registered quarter horses and Appaloosas, but I have never really gotten over the idea that a registered name is the horse's real name, and giving him another name for open shows is pointless. I don't say this, of course, since it's none of my business and if I ever have another registered horse I am naturally free to do whatever I want about the matter. (Mitzi is, of course, unregistered. Which means she can have any show name we care to give her.)

I'm becoming reconciled to the idea of the extra open-show name, especially in cases where the horse has a passport and the extra name is also sort of official. But even with grade horses like Mitzi, I always have the idea you should pick a name and stick to it. It used to confuse me when the lesson kids at the barns where I took lessons would give the schoolies new show names nearly every season. (My limited showing experience was in western shows, and in my experience Western riders ride quarter horses and paints and Apps, and they use the registered name if there is one.) Even last summer, one of the girls got to ride an old QH in one show--he had a registered name and an open show name, and she didn't like either so she just called him something else for the day. It wasn't a show where you needed a passport but I still got weirded out by the idea of this horse performing under an alias.

However. I am not riding Mitzi in this show. And the plan is, it'll be part of a series this summer and Lease Girl will ride in them. So I have decided that Lease Girl can call Mitzi any darned thing she wants for this set. If I ever start showing myself, I will unilaterally name her something and insist on any other rider using it. But for a few little fun shows at the home barn? What's the harm.

Last I heard, Lease Girl and Coach Girl wanted to call her Primadonna, which in my opinion is about the most un-Mitzi-like name possible, but I think I'll offer no objections.

I need practice in letting go of stuff anyway.

And it's not like Mitzi is going to worry about it.

My leg (which of course means my back) is still troublesome, but after the conference and the training session ended last week I woke up Saturday in about eighty percent less pain than I had been in all the week of the conference. (My back and my head are connected by more than just my neck, shall we say.) I went back to physio and got some new exercises, which means I was sore again last night, but the clenched feeling is gone. Whew!

I felt so good Sunday that after Lease Girl's lesson I got on Mitzi for a few minutes and walked her around. Getting down was a bit of a jolt, and the kids all giggled at the sight of me in an English saddle, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I was beginning to feel really jealous of Lease Girl. (Yes, I know: horses have rich emotional lives, and just because she's friends with Lease Girl does not make her less friends with me. If I could ride too I'd be fine, but envy is a nasty thing.)

One of the kids took some pictures. I didn't mess with Lease Girl's stirrups, my legs are too far in front, and I am not sitting up straight enough. However, Mitzi was very patient with her old mum.

( Photos! )

It's not much, but it's something.

This past weekend was the Victoria Day long weekend, so of course it rained. But only two of the three days, so Lease Girl got to ride Mitzi in her lesson.

To tell you the truth, I was a little worried about how Mitzi would behave. She hasn't gotten anywhere nearly enough work the last couple of weeks, what with bad weather and me crashing after painful days, and there's a Thing in the corner of the ring where the jumps are stored (turns out to be a board covered in a blue tarp, intended for use as a liverpool for our jumping types) that Mitzi swears is going to eat her...

I mean, I don't want Lease Girl to have bad rides and lose her confidence.

But things got off to a good start when Lease Girl went out to fetch Mitzi from turnout. So far, Mitzi has walked away and then let herself be caught. This time she spotted Lease Girl coming and walked over to meet her. I knew she'd start doing this as soon as she figured out Lease Girl always takes her to do fun things in the ring, and it made Lease Girl feel good.

And then, aside from a few spooks, she was really pretty good. And the spooks reminded Lease Girl to keep her attention (I actually butted in once or twice to remind her--"When her ears are forward, she completely forgets about you!" It's true, but easy to fix.)

Also, I got a new camera with far more mega pixels than the old one, so better photos are in the future!

On Monday, though, I went out at lunchtime, in heavy rain, to find all the horses outside. I brought Mitzi and Benson in because they were both shivering. By the time the rain stopped they had dried off and warmed up so back out they went. But I can't understand why whoever cleaned stalls booted them all out in that cold rain!

I've been thinking lately about my jubilant "Mitzi is so great!" posts all this spring. I'm a little embarrassed to be so pleased that my eight-year-old mare has turned a corner and is now sensible enough to use in low-intermediate riding lessons without fear of explosions. And I was so exultant when she didn't blow up at spooky things earlier in the spring. (Again yesterday, something loud happened and she started but didn't move, because she could see the situation develop.) I mean, lots of my f'list are doing pretty high-level things with their horses, and I'm delighted at kindergarten stuff.

My only defense is, when I bought Mitzi it wasn't possible to tell she was a basket case until we got her away from the nice quiet farm she grew up on. And then... well, she was a spooky, over-reactive, scared-of-everything adult grade horse who had never been ridden. The first month I had her she panicked, big-time, at least three times. Even after a year she panicked at the trainer's, and yes, maybe some of it was angry resistance, but she's shown so little inclination toward tantrums since that I think a lot of it really was panic.

She got mighty scuffed at the trainer's, just doing stupid things out of fear. And I let it happen because I'd started to realize that if she couldn't learn, if she was loco in the My Friend Flicka sense of never knowing when she was among friends, then anything could happen to her if anything happened to me. For her own safety, she had to get over that stuff.

But after three months of steady training and two riding seasons worth of my best efforts... she is now a ridable, teachable horse. She's not a trail horse yet, but if I got hit by a bus she could find another job.

So any evidence of her new, more mature, borderline-confident outlook is worth celebrating for me. I feel like, somehow, I have managed to do right by this horse. I could do better, and I hope I will... but she's in better shape now than when I bought her. So: jubilant posts about baby-level stuff.

Thank you for your patience with them!

It occurred to me on the way to the barn last night that there might be another use for the adhesive tape cross I wrote about a couple of posts ago. I tend to slouch a bit when I ride, as well, and my head tips forward when I concentrate.

I think, although I would have to do further testing to be sure, that there is probably a spot on your upper back where a tape cross could let you know if you were letting your head drop forward. It wouldn't actually interfere with anything, but it would provide a reference point--if I go so far forward, I feel the tape tug at my skin.

Of course, you would need an assistant to put the tape on properly, because there's no way your neck would remain in the right spot while you were twisting around to apply the tape. (Not to mention the risk of your hair getting caught.) But I mentioned it to Coach Girl and it might be worth trying. I'll let you know if we do.

Yeah, I've been reading the Fugly blog, and I know she would disapprove of a ranch where large numbers of foals were bred every year and sold as infants. I suspect PMU action, frankly. (And if so, congratulate them for not dumping all their mares when the market crashed.) But also, congratulate them on trying to produce good-quality babies: these foals' daddy is Foothills Beau Dunit, a point-earner in reining and quarter horse shows. He's an own son of Hollywood Dun It and out of a daughter of Colonel Freckles. And a few of the mamas that I looked at are daughters and grand-daughters of some very famous horses.

All of which means there is no need to ever breed Mitzi. if I ever get a bad case of baby fever and can afford a second horse, nice babies are not so hard to find.

And just look at their little Hollywood Dun It faces!



( Further Dunit babies here! With the faces! )

Yes, I have started reading the Fugly Horse of the Day blog.

No, I never really planned to breed Mitzi in the first place.

Yes, I have abandoned any such non-plans.

However, the bloggers do occasionally post bitter references to online horse-breeding games that deluded would-be breeders should play with instead of screwing up real live horses.

And those? Sound like fun!

...didn't happen. It rained buckets all day long so Mitzi's sense or lack of it was a non-issue. So we have time to get our act together again this week--if it ever does stop raining for five minutes...

Last week, between the rain and the new physio exercises getting to me, I wasn't at the barn nearly enough and when I was we didn't do much. So by Saturday I knew I had to at least longe Mitzi or Lease Girl would have a crummy lesson.

It was cold and windy and Mitzi not only spooked at bits of paper coming into the barn, she actually shook on the cross-ties because she was so hyper. (With that said--the spooks were the old "Eek!" ones where she didn't do anything, and she stood still and shook. Credit where it's due.)

Anyway, I got her wrapped and booted and we went out to the ring--

--where we discovered the gang of local teenage boys who work around the barn (in exchange for garage room for various project cars, as far as I can tell) were shoring up the arena fence over by the driveway. There was much shovelling, hopping over fences with shovels in hand, and some flinging of dirt.

Mitzi completely forgot that these are the same young men who give her hay most evenings, and it took a while for her to stop imagining they were going to chase her down and eat her. I had to get after her to stand still while I closed the gate, because ooh! Scary! (Mitzi, as you may be aware, has a vivid imagination.) Anyway, she did the tail-in-the-air snorting thing, the I-want-to-run-in-circles-because-I-feel-safer-that-way thing, and the drop-and-spook thing for the first few minutes.

She got a lot better when I started singing "Happen Now" to her. I'm just sayin'.

And in case you're not familiar with that song--here you go.

I haven't said much about Eight Belles, but there has been discussion on my f'list about her, including the fact she was about 17 hands as a heavily-worked three-year-old. Which is just asking for trouble.

And I had this flash in my head of Coach Girl's gently didactic voice explaining to one of her students that she only rode her 17.2-hand four-year-old, Benson, for about fifteen minutes every couple of days because "he's so big, it'll take him a long time to really grow into himself. We just want to make sure he knows his manners and that he has a job to do, eventually."

Um, yeah. Benson acts like he knows he's a pretty lucky horse, but he has no idea just how lucky he is.

That is all.

I was thinking about the Montreal Canadiens facing elimination last night and did not notice anything else going on in the world of sports. So I didn't realize the Kentucky Derby was being run, so I didn't have my annual battle between wanting to watch the beautiful horses and being terrified something was going to go wrong.

One of the girls at the barn told me about Eight Belles. I'm so glad I didn't see her.

I don't have time to say anything more, and maybe I have nothing more to say, but there are certainly worse things for a horse than running around in a field until you're five and then becoming someone's pet. Damn.