I went to a horse show

See this picture?

Two-Legged Mom and Auntie Niki took me to a horse show! It was mostly fun. I don't like to get a bath so much, and it tickles my ears when Auntie Niki holds the buzzy machine next to them. She holds them next to my legs and on my nose, too. I don't know what for, but Two-Legged Mom says I look pretty, so it must be a good thing.

But then I get to ride in the Big Moving Box. That's fun. I get to eat and hang out. This time, my friends Tommy and Sandy went with me. The floor goes up and down forever, and the grass and trees go sideways forever, and then we're somewhere new.

I recognized this new place. I was here last year. They have really tasty water here, but the shavings aren't very fluffy. Last year I had my head out of my stall all the time and was always calling out to my friends.

This year, I felt different, like I was too grown up to scream and jump around. Even when Two-Legged Mom took me to the pen to let me run on the long rope, I didn't want to jump around or act silly. I had work to do.

Auntie Niki and Two-Legged Mom were the silly ones this time. My jammies are a pretty bright color. Two-Legged Mom calls it "red". Auntie Niki thinks it makes me look like Super Snoopy, whatever that means. She drew something on my hoodie.

I don't know what it is, but it made them laugh. I like to make Two-Legged Mom and Auntie Niki happy.

I had fun in the show ring. I went over all the sticks, just like I was told. Two-Legged Mom told me to back into the flower box, so I did. Usually I'm not supposed to knock things over in the ring, so that was fun.

After that, we walked back into the big moving box and ate more food and then we were back home.

Life is like a bag of carrots. It's all good.

I love A-HA moments

This is, for most of you, going to be a "so what?" post, but bear with me. I have a point.

Yesterday, I had an a-ha moment in my lesson on Snoop. I've had lots of them, although maybe not enough of them to be as proficient on a horse as I'd like to be. But when a detail finally makes its way into my brain, I savor it. I cherish it. I describe it to myself as I drive home. I re-live the moment while I'm in the shower. If I could bronze it, I would.

The situation was this: Niki was asking me and Snoopy to lope a straight line across three poles. The poles looked, more or less, like this (the orange triangle is a cone on the corner):

The line we were supposed to lope was here:

I loped Snoopy around on the right lead first, pointed him toward the first pole, looked at the last pole, and thought we had it made. Niki, of course, was yelling at me to stand him up more. Oh, she wasn't yelling because she was mad. She was yelling because I get so zoned out when I'm riding, she's reduced to shouting and repeating herself. I figure, I'm giving her good training for when her son is about five and too busy watching cartoons to actually listen to her.

We loped over the first pole, loped over the X, then suddenly veered to the right. Before I knew it, Snoopy was jumping over the cone.

"Nope. Do it again." I heard Niki say that.

I tried it again, this time listening hard to Niki and pushing his left hip over and tugging the reins up over his withers. I confess, I wasn't sure why I was doing it, but I did it. Our line was perfect. I did it one more time to prove it wasn't a fluke, then turned around somehow and loped the same line on the left lead. This time I kept Niki's commands in my head and loped it perfectly the first time. It felt superb, like I was actively riding my horse and he was just as actively responding.

"Beautiful," Niki said. She kind of sang this, as in, "Hallelujah, the woman can be taught."

So here's the a-ha part: Afterward, I figured out what she was telling me to do. When I was looking down at Snoopy, he looked to be in a straight line, in that his hips and shoulders were parallel. I expected us to go straight.

But even though his shoulders and hips were parallel, they weren't even. His right shoulder and hip dipped slightly lower than his left side.

Even if his body seemed to be on a straight line, he would not be able to continue the line. Sooner or later, he would veer. By pushing his opposite side, it aligned the leaning side and made him truly travel in a straight line.

I know this is a little detailed and possibly dry and mechanical, but my point is that sometimes it is in the details, whether it's horseback riding or writing a novel or raising a child or living a life. Broad, sweeping changes aren't always necessary. It's that one minor adjustment that can give you the greatest reward.

Play nice!

I read a post today at Equestrian Ink, about one horsewoman's discomfort with the idea of "liberty play" with your horse. You can go read about it, but the gist of her argument is that it's never a good idea to try to play with your horse as if you were another horse. Not unless you weigh a thousand pounds and wear iron shoes.In her words, "It works until it doesn't."

I was going to write a big long comment about my experience playing with my horse, but I decided to instead post my story here. After all, I have 5 followers on this blog - they might want to know!

A few years ago, the dog training pen in the front of the ranch was a turnout for the horses. It's a kind of oval shape, so trying to lunge a horse without a longline usually meant the horse would tear down one side of the fence, then stop in the corner and make you chase after them.

Frostie & Baby Snoopy in the old turnout

One day, I was in the pen with my mare, Frostie. I wanted her to run, but she just wanted to walk around and look for leaves to eat. If I had been a smart woman (key phrase here), I'd have taken a whip with me, or put her on a line. Instead, I just ran toward her, snapping the lead line, making shushing noises, and waving my hands. She ran.

Frostie in high gear

Then she stopped. Then I chased and she ran again then stopped. Then turned when I didn't ask for it, etc. Pretty soon, we're doing this weird kind of keep-away dance. I'd run, she'd run, then turn and I'd have to quickly try to turn her back. Of course, as I'm doing this, I get a little lost in the moment and don't keep track of how close our bodies are getting.

Suddenly, with one stop, she turned her butt to me and a big red flashing lightbulb went off in my head, complete with System Shutdown Honk-Honk Siren. "You're too close! You're too close! Get out! Get out!" I turned and took two steps away from her.

They weren't far enough. She planted and fired out with both hind legs. Her ears weren't back, and the rest of her body didn't say she was mad or annoyed. She just looked like she was being playful. Unfortunately, her playful kick caught me in the butt.

The good news is, I was just far enough away to only receive the very tail end of the kick, so it didn't even knock me off my feet. I did have an interesting bruise on my tush.

Frostie ran to the other side of the pen, where she stood with her head down. She could have been pleased with herself, but (if you'll allow me a little creative license) she looked quite mortified.

The other good news is, I learned a valuable lesson that day. You can play with your dog. You can play with your food. But don't play with your horse. They outweigh you.

Can I taste you?

Oh, and if you think I'd ever play with this guy, you're out of your mind.

Goals for 2012

My goals for this year are much like last's: enjoy my horse and take him to a few shows.

The first one is a one-day show in Desert Hot Springs, on January 14th. It's at the Willowbrook Riding Club, if you're interested in coming.

Then my selections get large and my decisions get foggier. I don't see anything on the horizon until April, when there are two shows. Three in May, then nothing until August. So the question I have to answer is, how many shows are too much for one month? Three in May seems exhausting, to me and the Snoop-Dog. But should I try for both in April? One is the first weekend and one is the second. (I'm not counting the Del Mar Nationals, because I'm just not going to that one.)

Maybe I should plan on the first horse show in the month. That way, if something happens, I've still got the second one to try to get to, instead of planning on the second one and having something happen.

Stay tuned. Snoopy and I may change our minds.

Merry Christmas!

We hope your holidays are safe, sane, and healthy, and that your New Year is dazzling.

Snoopy's mom learns something new today

Here is Snoopy, relaxing in the roundpen. You can see, in the foreground, a mounting block. We keep it in the roundpen for two reasons: 1) sometimes we ride in the roundpen, when we start young horses or need a confined space for a lesson, and 2) it covers the hose.

Under the mounting block is a hole in the ground, which contains a faucet with a hose attached. We use this hose to water down the dirt. There's a concrete lid to the hole in the ground, but the mounting block kind of protects the whole thing.

Except when Snoopy is in the pen. Every time I put him in there, when I come back, he has removed the mounting block and the concrete lid. This always alarms me, as I think at some point, he will accidentally step into the hole and break another leg.

Turns out, that's not what I should have been worrying about.

Today, shortly after I put Snoopy out for some play time, I watched Niki walk over with a bunch of hay cubs cradled in her shirt. She tossed the cubes around the pen for Snoopy to find and eat.

"It keeps him busy, so he leaves the hose alone," she said.

I told her I was always worried about him stepping in the hole and that's when I found out the truth: Snoopy likes to get into the hole so he can turn the faucet on.

On one of his playdates, he actually broke the handle off the faucet. By the time Niki checked on him, the roundpen was flooded.

I knew my horse was a land shark. I didn't know he was amphibious.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

That's right. It's time to take the Annual Family Christmas Photo!

Last year, I posted a few of the outtakes. This year, I thought I'd show you all of them. This is what we go through - for your entertainment.

We start with the easy task: arranging one boy, one dog, one cat.

When everyone's settled, I can walk away.

So far, so good. Well, good-ISH. Doesn't Katy the kitty look thrilled?

And then Dale takes his place... as instigator.

Once we add the horses, it's madness.

I'm left now with two options for our Christmas card: Should I be nice?

Or naughty?

Comments are always appreciated.