Saturday, 16 May 2009

Rain rain go away!

Another miserable day of rain, rain and more bliddy rain. So today was spent in horsey shops. I was actually very good, I bought more bits and pieces for my cat really! Today was more about feed and supplements for Mr Fin, I have some research to do on that front before I commit to more than beet. Luckily neither of the two of them are wasting away.

I can't remember what time we got to the yard, but it was almost teatime, the theory being that if the rain hadn't stopped we could just bring the boys in to be cosied into bed. But the rain had eased, and feeling like I ought to run through another Pessoa session with Quadi, we were both suited and booted for work.

There are two outdoor school are they were both a little boggy with water but the whole yard is on a hill so I expect they'll drain quickly. We did have a lot of rain these past 24 hours, so it's hardly a surprise.

Quadi started off well, unattached to any pulleys or strings. He was sometimes bending to the outside but it was blowing a gale between arriving and tacking him up, so it wasn't so ideal by the time we started to work. But he was nice and active and his posture was great. Head not to high nor two low. However, transitions were sticky. Barely acknowledging my requests for a downward transition, dribbling into them really. And he is most frustrating to try and keep on a 20m circle. It obviously doesn't help that I am deficient to the tune of one cavesson. I have ordered one from Portugal, but we'll have to wait a week. In fact, it might arrive after I go away for work.

In my frustration, I think I ended up bringing him closer to me rather than moving out to him. And becoming increasingly irked with this session, I buckled him up to his Pessoa. Onto the baby, between-the-foreleg setting as discussed with the physio.


I adjusted it to give him plenty of room for natural maneuver (sp?) but not so loose that it was flapping around having no effect. All he really wanted to do was to sniff the floor, threatening to roll. In fact, he ended up putting his leg over the rope that was running along his side.

By this point I had a total sense of humour FAIL and escorted him back to his stable. No point in trying to work with a horse in anything other than a calm frame of mind with clear intentions. I rushed through the lunging as it progressively became a pointless exercise, which only increased our downward spiral. I should have stopped on the first revolution where I saw he was annoyed by the rain.

Upon arrival into the barn, I proceeded to have a small tantrum. Lunge whip was cast to the floor, tack was carefully removed from a soggy pony but I didn't thank him for his work as I always do. When Kate asked me if I was ok my face just crumpled into a pathetic little sob. It's great to have friends to cry on! I was also quickly cheered by my naughty pony unzipping my jacket pocket to obtain his post-work treat. I'm not so amused with his begging with a foreleg routine he gave me, will have to insist to him that only quiet, squarely-stood bog ponies get sweeties...

I just so very much want to get started and get him going, and this effing weather and all other elements conspire against me. Isn't that pathetic?! It's all about me, it's all obstacles in my way and a conspiracy! I don't think I'm the sort of person to give up, but I complained that this is too hard and I don't think I can do it. Tonight I'm going to read a couple of my go-to horsey books. Only to cheer me up, reading is not the same as doing something constructive with my boy.

Tomorrow's plan, weather permitting, is to get Kate onboard him and see if he is easier to ride than lunge through this finding-our-feet phase. I don't think I have great enough control of my bum to ask him to control his. He actually looks strong enough to deal with some ridden work and I've been given the ok to ride him anyway. Plus, I will have another bash at the Pessoa in the more intermediate setting.

Meanwhile, I'll be having a glass of wine tonight!

No comments:

Post a Comment