Pippi standing in her little field, waiting for us to get her. After Trainer told us to chase her when she does not come when called in, there have been about three merry chases around the field. Donna's mom much enjoyed the sight of me running around like a looneytoon for about 20 minutes last week.
I can report that each chase is shorter, and Pippi is now proving easier to catch. But - BOY - she sure can turn on a dime when being chased by a crazy middle aged wacko! (great exercise!)
Here I am riding. I had every plan to canter yesterday, but Pippi was a spitfire and I lost my nerve. Okay - I totally chickened out!
The Mini's came out, and with their running around Pippi felt it was quite unfair that she had to work. Pippi is used to being alone, so when she has equine company she gets real excited.
Miranda ended up schooling her for a bit more, with some very bad behaviors from Pippi, and then guilted me into riding again. And I did.
Trotted like a champ.
This is my new fun little project; Gracie. She is a a hairy little beast that I am hoping to have some fun with. No one shows her, so my "training" should not mess anything up for anyone.( I can play with her while watching Miranda ride Pippi.)
I have nicknamed her "Whoopie" because she is a little tramp. The mare field butts up againts the stallion field, and Whoopie butts up against the fence. A LOT!! Her rear end is almost permanently placed against that fence, rubbing back and forth so much that the fence now has a Whoopie booty imprint. A girl after my own heart; if you want it, you go get it girl!
As I have probably mentioned a time or two, Pippi comes from a long line of purely western horses. They showed in Western Pleasure, probably some English flat, and some were Contest Horses. NO Hunter Jumpers. Pippi was untrained when we found her, and we tried a number of things to find out what talents (if any) she had. She hated barrel racing, and would get worse with time, and was not fond of the heavy western tack. An English saddle was more her thing, and when she first jumped cross rails (and received a blue ribbon ten days later) it was clear that she loved it.
Our friend Donny, drove to Michigan in January 2011, and brought back a TB Mare named Betty. This mare raced just a few times when she was young, but after that her life is a bit of a mystery. The best we can tell she just stood around, and I think she had a few foals. Betty is a bitch. No other word for it. She hates everything, and lets you know it. Brush her, she will try to bite you, tighten a girth and teeth are coming at you, enter her stall and watch out for flying limbs. I don't know why, but we love her.
Donny has had Chiro work done, several vet checks, and put her on all the supplements one can think of. She has the most expensive and best farrier around. All of this made her feel better, but did not improve her mood. Although it did wonders for her speed. Betty can run, and loves it. Oh Boy, can this Bitch pick up some speed. Donny has spent the last year doing his best to make Betty a Hunter Horse, but Betty will have none of it. She will give him one course at medium speed, but then she is off to the races. It is Nascar time, and she takes off like a shot. Just all out hand gallop hunter jumper style. Donny has had a hard time controlling her, and was he not such an excellent rider (with velcro breeches) it would be disaster after disaster. I kept saying to him that she just does not get it, and she just disagrees with him, strongly, about the need for slow controlled canters. Some people suggested she become a Jumper, or an XC horse, but she is is just too fast, and strong, to control. After our weekend at Chagrin, Donny was heartbroken, after having to send her towards the wall to stop her.
So how about barrels? I know, a TB running barrels? Well, we just thought she would like it. At first we joked about it, although secretly I was serious. I have watched this horse for a year, gritting her teeth and trying to show Donny that fast is just better. Her frustration at his unwillingness to learn was palpable. I felt her irritation, and she held a grudge, cursing him every time he held her back. If slow is good, FAST IS BETTER!!! They way she handled herself, reminded me of a chomping at the bit QH Barrel racer.
So on Saturday he tacked her up western. And gave it a whirl. First he let her warm up, and then worked on some sharp turns. Turn and Burn style. Betty was thrilled. Ears forward, pounding the ground, neck low, ripping it up like she loves to do. If she could have, we would have heard a rip roaring "WooHoo" or a "Hell Yeah." Betty was allowed to run all out, and really let go. (side note; Donny has lunged her extensively, let her run, and not run, to see if anything would stop her penchant for speed, to no avail.)
We then set up a barrel pattern, and this is one of her is her first run around those:
She was killing it, and as you can see she even started doing the signature barrel horse hop. Digging in with both hind legs and hopping around that barrel. TB's can be a bit stiff to bend (IMO), but look at the sharp turns she does. With even the lightest tap, she would step out or in. Between runs, and they only did 5-6, she was breathing hard, but was calmly waiting to go again. After two runs, the objective was crystal clear to her, and she was just going for it. Slowing for the barrels, and shooting out between.We were amazed! Jaws dropped, goofy grins for everyone.
Donny asked me what I thought, and I just was smiling like a goof ball, with tears in my eyes. Betty seemed like a different horse, and I was thrilled that she had found her purpose. Donny had not been sure what to do with her before Saturday, as he could not sell her without fear of her killing someone. But now he had his barrel horse. Donny started out as a Contest rider, but never found the right mount. Then fell in love with Hunters, but still dabbles when possible in speed events. Who knew that his dream Barrel Horse would be a grouchy old TB Mare?
After he cooled her down, we all walked, still in awe speaking over each other, to untack her. For the first time ever, Betty stood quietly while tack was being removed. She even allowed Donny to brush her all over, and stood quietly while he rinsed off her legs. She was happy and content, and yawned as though it was all in a days work.
Later Betty told the herd all about how you really should put the time into your human, and not give up. Sometimes they surprise you, even though it may take a year, and finally get what you have been trying to teach them. I know Pippi agreed whole heartedly saying; "Oh I know, can you believe mine thought I was a western horse? Stupid Humans, Right?"
I love these photos, and somehow treasure them more than the splendid photos of Pippi and Miranda executing a perfect three foot jump. But I have one shot of Pippi that I would love to get:
I would JUST LOVE capturing a shot of Pippi doing that. It would be printed and framed, and placed in honor at my house. For some reason it just cracks me up to see a horse do this. Never have had the pleasure of seeing Pippi do this maneuver, but she has it in her I just know it.
Since I have not done any riding, or even hanging out at the barn, lately, I will just go ahead and take advantage of my daughters work. Hey now, I made the kid, allowing me to use her photography is the least she can do. I HAVE STRETCHMARKS from that kid!!!
Pippi looks about ready to go inside here.
Pippi in front of her little barn.
Huge stride for such a little mare.
Pippi is only 15 hands, 1100 pounds (we think), but she sure can stretch those legs out. When we first found her, I would see her at liberty and I just knew she would be a great Hunter/Jumper. She glides, and flows; like an equine waltz.
My next lesson is Monday, and I need to really kick it in gear. Amy, at A Work in Progress, has some pics on her Facebook that really inspires me to get my lazy, fearful, chickenshit, ass moving. I never thought of myself as a chickenshit person until I started riding.
I mean I have stood toe-to-toe with the "Queens (and Kings) of The White Trash People" in moments that were Jerry Springer worthy. One Tenant Wrote "F$%# YOU" on the wall in one of the apartments using his own poop. (I know, how stupid do you have to be? Why use and touch your own crap, when a permanent marker is harder to remove? The Site Manager felt awful for me, and I felt awful for her. I mean; I was not the one who had to clean that up.)
I've got some stories!
But I hope to have stories of how I jumped my horse. Stories of my first time doing more than a step-step-hop over crossrails. And I will!
My Husband surprised me by bringing flowers for Valentines Day on Friday last week. I prefer that he give them to me in person, at home, rather than have them delivered to the office. It is always so awkard kissing the delivery person, don't you think? I know some women enjoy the show off factor, but to be truly romantic I prefer a private moment with my sweetie.
It was my turn to feed this morning, and so I pulled on the muck boots, and brought work shoes. I have tried being careful when in the barn, only to find hay on the floor in my office. It was above freezing today, so the mud was also a factor.
A little after seven am, I entered the barn and Pippi was waiting - Impatiently! A big harrumph escaped her, and I swear she shook her head in disgust. Kevin feeds the mini's around 6:30am, and although he gives her a handful of hay, it must be hard to watch Chance chow down on grain while she waits for her sleepy humans to finally make it down. Sigh!
I grabbed her hay, let her get a bite and threw it in the corner. She turned towards it, bent to eat, and I checked on her water buckets before turning to go get her grain. I ran my hand down her neck and said "Happy Valentines Day, Pippi," and she lifted her head. Looked at me, and stepped in close. Her head went over my shoulder, across and down my back and she held me there for a moment in the warm embrace of her neck. A deep sigh escaped me, she lifted her head, looked at me, and nudged me gently towards the door with her muzzle. "The moment is over Human, go get my grain now." (She is so smart, she always knows first when the hug is over. )
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