Sunday, we brought Whiskey over from the old barn and moved him into the new barn. Before he had a chance to really settle, I tacked him up and took him on his first trail ride with two of the barn buddies. This was intentional - I wanted to see how he did when his brain was completely fried, surrounded by new horses, in a new environment.
And my horse (squee) was a fucking champ. He led, he followed, he crossed water with his face shoved into a palomino butt, and he led back over the water. He still walked like a drunken moose, but steering takes time, right? I was overall exceptionally pleased.
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| Chill enough to grab a snack. |
I gave him Monday off and tacked him up Tuesday evening, after having ridden Archie. Whiskey is squirrelly about the mounting block in a way I haven't seen in other horses - instead of walking away, he walks over it. We spent a good ten to fifteen minutes with a handful of carrots, walking up to the mounting block, standing, getting a treat, losing our mind, and doing it all over.
Once he was standing sorta still, gazing off at something in the distance, I mounted. And my dear stiff drink bolted backwards.
It was really fucking scary, I'm not gonna lie. But time slows down when you're in those situations. I knew he was getting too close to my car, so I moved him over and he responded. I kicked out of my stirrups. The next thing I know, I'm falling and he's falling with me.
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| My saddle on the ground, divots in the dirt. |
I can't say if he reared or what. I didn't fall far and am relatively unscathed. My immediate reaction was that he reared and flipped, but not over backwards - sideways. So his fronts may have left the ground, but not very high.
We both got up and we were both pretty shaken up. I called another friend, Big G's mom, and just walked her through what had happened. She advised putting him in the round pen to check for lameness and also so he didn't think he was going to get out of work. I dropped his saddle and did exactly that, where he was apparently fine. None of that flailing and falling felt malicious - it felt panicked.
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| A tiny bit of road rash on my elbow and a bruise on my stomach. |
I texted Ox's owner and asked if she could meet me Wednesday night, as I didn't want to try mounting him alone again in case something worse happened. I've mentioned this before, but Ox's owner is a retired h/j trainer and she also used to saddle break racehorses. And she's got a good twenty years of experience on me.
Her suggestion was to treat him like an unbroke horse. He's got so many gaping holes anyways, might as well. So I still tacked him up, but we went to the round pen again and worked on moving his haunches and just basic lunging. My homework is to get him moving his shoulders, backing, and continuing the haunches and lunging skills. He doesn't listen to voice commands very well, so that needs to be taught.
You'd think that I would be less invested in training up a horse like this, who dumped me while the ink was still wet on his sale contract. But I had problems with Archie and now I know the little bastard's soul. I wouldn't be interested in a horse who was easy. I still love the guy.
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| I like to think that Archie is telling him that if he tries that shit again, his ass is grass. |
You might also be screaming PAIN. Which, yeah, was my first reaction, too. No reaction to pressure points and the guy just had a physical. My tack fits (for now) and nothing was changed. He just derped and took me with him.
Yes, that's his show name. I've already ordered him a halter with that on the plate. My vet called me classy.
If you haven't seen my IG or Facebook today, it's official: Whiskey is mine.
He had a pre-purchase this morning and passed with flying colors. Everything was fine, he's a perfectly normal, sound horse. In the future, he might need shoes if we're jumping a lot. He sticked at about 16.1½ hands and looks somewhere around 12. At the beginning of the appointment, my vet commented on how he's always liked the look of Whiskey.
I'm going to send off some samples to Texas A&M and we're going to play a little game - WTF is Whiskey? I'll let you know when that game starts.
So if you're wondering how we got here:
If you haven't seen my IG or Facebook today, it's official: Whiskey is mine.
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| Someone taught this horse to hug. |
I'm going to send off some samples to Texas A&M and we're going to play a little game - WTF is Whiskey? I'll let you know when that game starts.
So if you're wondering how we got here:
- started riding him after my miscarriage
- owner found new owners, and I happened to be at the barn when they were leaving
- I gave the new owners my number and asked them to give me a call if it didn't work out
- the daughter called me the day before they were supposed to pick him up and said that he was too tall
- I immediately called his owner and said that I was interested. I scheduled a farrier visit and the pre-purchase exam
This carries on the tradition of pulling my horses unused from pastures, riding them a little bit, and buying them without looking at any other horses.
Every time I try to write, it comes out horribly depressing and/or boring.
So imma summarize. (i just like the look of that)
Archie
Full of piss and vinegar and loving the new barn. Went on a six mile trail ride Sunday, during which he bucked and bolted and spooked... and fell to his knees. He seemed okay, just derped on walking? The riders behind me said that he didn't trip - he just didn't bring his leg forward. He immediately got up and I immediately dismounted.
Ox
Tolerating my batshit crazy beautifully. I haven't been jumping much lately for medical reasons, but now I'm all cleared, so that's going to start up again. I think I needed the break because I was sucking majorly at all things getting-over-sticks.
Whiskey
He has a PPE scheduled. I'm not going to say when, so we can't be jinxed. I've asked a few people to hop on him and the consensus is that he's a good boy with giant gaping holes in his training.
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| "But this is work." |
Other Pets
Scarlette still has cancer - I opted not to send her to surgery. I can't stomach the idea of confining a dog with separation anxiety for two weeks post op. I just can't. Savannah wasn't feeling well this weekend. She got a bolus of sub-q fluids and cerenia and felt somewhat better. Her bloodwork was within normal limits, so we were flummoxed... until she peed on the floor and told us plainly that she has a UTI. Started antibiotics and magically feels better. And Birgette just has allergies.
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| Stressed puppy. |
Me.
I feel like I need a mental reset that I'm probably not going to get. Also probably drinking too much. And stopped exercising as intensely and frequently, but, again, medical. So I've gotten some closure on losing my baby and I'm ready to get my shit together. We'll try again. My life has to continue. I'm trying to set stuff up to look forward to - trips, purchases, etc - but I'm still stuck in the rut of only wanting to sit on my couch nursing a beer. It'll get better. Eventually. Fake it 'til you make it, right?
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