Snoopy and I are horse-show bound.
The last time I tried to show my big, black horse, he broke his left hind sesamoid bone two days before the show. It's Friday night, the show is Sunday, and so far we're still healthy.
The show is a one-day in Desert Hot Springs at the Willowbrook Riding Club. We'll haul in. Niki will show him in the green trail and I'll show him in novice amateur. Niki's been to these shows before and describes them as very low key, low stress. I'm trying to follow her lead.
But can I confess to a little stress? The last time I tried this, I literally broke my horse. In reality, I know there's a low probability of this happening again. In my head, however, anything's possible.
That Snoopy came back to soundness after the break is so wonderful, we consider him our miracle horse. For me to get into the arena with him, almost three years later, is amazing. I may be a little weepy on Sunday. I hope I can hold it in until after we complete the course.
That leaves the course. Niki says it won't be extremely difficult for the novice amateurs, and she is confident that I can move Snoopy around on it. I'm not certain if I can move him around and make it look pretty. I try to do things correctly, but in the show ring, I get hyper-focused on the course and getting it done, which throws pretty out the window. I'm also aware of the next person to go and hate taking too much time, so I rush everything.
There's a phrase singers and public speakers use: Don't bogart the mike. I have no idea where it came from, but it means not to hog the microphone and keep the other singers or speakers from their full turn.
On Sunday, I plan to take my time, take my full turn, and bogart the mike.
I was going to take a picture of Snoopy in the wash rack, getting ready for the big day, but I forgot. Instead, I'll leave you with this little ditty. It's worth the 7:21 minutes, trust me. And the horse reminds me of Snoopy during the carrot scene.