Tedious paperwork - and a nice surprise in return

Too much ice and snow to drive to the barn (which, on a good day, takes an hour). Ah, no more excuses to skip the equine paperwork again... I really needed to get Remy's Morganhorse registration transferred, pay membership dues, have him registered with the USDF and USEF. All the fun -and expensive- stuff.

While filling out the transfer papers I noted the name of the breeder and the farm where Remy was born. A quick visit to Google and I found out that the "FRM" of his registered name "FRM Flower of Remington" stands for Faith Ranch Morgans. I emailed the ranch to see if I could get some more information on his 'early days'. I was not expecting the almost instant response from Pat Prouty, the owner of FRM. She gave me some information on Remy (she was hoping for a girl... well, I'll never tell him!), and sent me some lovely baby pictures. Quite the traveler, our boy: Not even four years old and he has almost crossed the entire US: Born in California, raised in Montana, and now he is with us in Michigan.

I was really happy to find out that his early days were at a very nice place with people that loved him. Of course, I knew that Remy had a wonderful upbringing with the Radtkes, but I was curious about the place where he was born. I always have Saumur and his 'baggage' in mind... It would not have made a difference in my choice of Saumur, of course, but if I had known everything about Saumur from the beginning I would have approached some things differently.

Remy really is a reflection of his upbringing, he is such a people horse. Somebody at the barn recently called him "a dog", and I was totally taken aback - until I realized she meant it in terms of a puppy dog disposition. Good thing I thought about it before punching her!

So, I spent a lot of money in registration fees and membership dues - but dealing with the tedious paperwork brought the 'bonus' of leading me to Remy's early childhood; with beautiful pictures of him and his mom to boot.

My bubble needs a thicker skin - and where are the keys??

Ah, one day things are great, the next day - not so. I got really frustrated while working with Remy because I was so distracted by all the chatter around me. There are days where I can't stay in my bubble, meaning ignoring everything that's going on around me. And it was just such a day where I couldn't focus. We try to get the horses focus on us, but then we can't do the same for them - not fair, is it? Remy still tried his best, though, and we had some lovely trot work. I just need to be mindful of the outside rein, especially going to the right he needs it to stay straight.

By the time I got on Saumur I had myself pulled together (and most of the distractions were gone), and actually Saumur also filled in 'my holes'. It was a blustery day, with doors rattling and light coming through. First I wasn't sure if I should even give it a try, but we had a very good session without spooks. Go figure.

Time to drive home - but where are the truck keys?? Nowhere to be found. JP was carrying them in his jacket and they must have fallen out. After painstakingly raking the arena, checking stalls and turnouts still no keys. Britney loaned JP her car so he could drive home and get the spare set - but of course the house keys were with the truck keys. Ugh. I called Dolores, our farm sitter, to see if she could swing by to open the door. By the time Dolores got to our place JP had already broken a window and gone into the house. In the meantime, strange things were happening to the truck: The doors unlocked! Then all of a sudden the truck alarm went off. What the heck?? So, again we went on a search. Britney scored the win: The keys were in Chambord's stall, and by stepping on the remote he had unlocked the truck. Good thing he didn't drive off!

Time to canter - on my very own 'therapy horse'

Glad to be back from Mexico City - and desperately in need of my 'horse fix' today. Remy was the 'choosen one'. He started out from the beginning relaxed on the longe line, and carried it through in our trot and walk work. Sandy asked if I wanted the give the canter a try - a first in her large arena. Yes, of course!

We had good departs on both hands, and really smooth canters :-) I was grinning from ear to ear. How fun! It is so unusual for me to ride a horse that doesn't see demons lurking in every corner, over analyzing anything that could happen. Remy is confident in himself, and takes life in stride. He is the best 'therapy' for me.

The early years with Saumur left me with what Sandy calls "PTSD" or "Beaten Wife Syndrome"... I am still having flashbacks to our troubled past: Saumur bolting out of control, spooks that could have sent me into the stratosphere, being trampled... even though things are MUCH better now, I never totally relax. So here is where Remy, the youngster, fills in as 'therapy horse' -- I am relaxed and happy when I ride him. That in turn transfers to my rides on Saumur. It should be the other way round, Saumur giving me the confidence for the youngster - but hey, I don't care who is helping whom, the important part is that all three of us are improving and having fun doing so!

It's not you - it's me... OK, I guess I have to fake it

Yesterday it was finally warm enough (for Michigan standards, I mean) to ride. Remy, the 'energizer bunny', was showing how happy he was to get moving after 4 days of only turnout. With the frozen ground most horses are not running outside (luckily!), so all the pent up energy has to find an outlet. It was the first time that I saw Remy bucking on the longe line, nothing major, just some "I am happy to move" expressions. Still I had some doubts about getting on - remembering two recent incidents where the working students got bucked off by the exuberant youngsters. The key, of course, is to block this out, otherwise the body gets tight and the tension transfers to the horse. I admit, I started out faking it, just trying to breathe deeply and to relax my back. It did the trick, and we went to work. We finished with some good baby leg yields and turns on the forehand.

That should have set the tone for my work with Saumur, alas the sun rays were coming through the door and I felt him tense up as soon as he got a glimpse of it. From there I automatically tensed up, keeping a vice grip on him, lest he takes off with me. Saumur in turn thought something MUST be wrong based on my tension, and he reacted accordingly. Guess it's the classical "you started it - no, you did". With Sandy's help we worked through it, but I was not happy with myself, even though we were able to do a pretty cool exercise well: trot half-pass to center line, straighten, leg yield to the wall, then half-pass back to the center line. Just need to remember that less is more (aids in this case).

I talked with Sandy after the lesson and she suggested that in order for Saumur to be ready for the show season he would benefit from more rides by her. Ouch. I mean, of course, she is the much better and experienced rider/trainer, but nevertheless it spun me into the well known circle of doubts: Obviously, I am not able to give Saumur the rides he needs, we'll never get anywhere, etc. etc.

JP and I went to a late lunch (with the worst service ever, very fitting to my dark mood), and poor JP had to listen to me questioning my abilities and the whole endeavor for about the millionth time, it seems. In the end, though, talking through it helped getting me back on track (wonder when he will present the bill for his 'shrink duties'?): So what if we don't hit 4th level at the first show of the season? Or even show this season? The hitch is that I THINK I NEED to prove it to myself that I can do it. But do I really need to prove it? The answer is NO. So, here's the remedy against doubts creeping in:

Breathe deeply and relax ... or at least fake it (some wine doesn't hurt either!)

Too cold to ride - but still having 'productive fun'

10F this morning: definitely NOT conducive to riding. We still headed to the barn, and plucked the boys out of their fields. I decided it would be a good day to refresh Remy's groundwork with the simple basics: Go - stop - turn. As it was too cold for longing we did a slow jog in the indoor. That actually was really fun, Remy is such a quick learner, he figured out immediately what was expected of him (NOT charging ahead of me, politely and immediately stopping with a respectful distance). At the end, I felt ready for some in-hand classes. Turns out Remy is a "great puppy", meaning he walks perfectly on a leash (halter rope) - not something I can say about our to rambunctious Viszlas Max and Jaas.

Chambord "Mr. Sensitive Feet" showed off his new, custom made shoes - including padding and a 'rubber mound' to keep the snow from balling up. Jim Dolsen, our farrier, did a great job; and Chambord is happy and sound. JP climbed on Chambord bareback, but Chambord seemed to be confused by the concept ("what - no saddle, no bridle, and you are not wearing a helmet? I don't think I'll move"). Smart horse!

Hardworking Saumur got to do his favorite thing: rolling to his heart's content in the indoor. After that we just did a lot of walking, walk-halt transitions without a leadrope. Quite a change from his usual work: on Wednesday he did canter half pass left - flying change - half pass right with Sandy. I got an excited email from her: "Zigzags - here we come!"

After a liberal distribution of apples and carrots the boys headed back out to their playmates, we tried to 'de-ice' with the help of the heater blasting in our truck - and all were happy.

Eat your words, Mr. National Champion!

Last night I was reading in Denny Emerson's book "How good Riders Get Good" (an autographed copy, no less, with the inscription "Birgit, best of luck with your riding adventures"). When I still had the 'eventing bug' Denny was THE authority. I even went to meet him at his farm in Vermont. At the time I was riding Crissy, my Morgan mare.

So imagine my surprise and yes, outrage, when I came across the following:

"Suppose you love the Morgan breed, but are also entranced with the sport of dressage. Certainly Morgans can be used in the discipline, but very few of them are suited for the demands of upper-level dressage, a world dominated by such Warmblood breeds as Hanoverians and Westphalians. So you'll have to choose: Buy a Morgan, and probably restrict yourself from the upper reaches of dressage, or buy a Warmblood and give yourself more of a chance to excel in your sport. (Or win the lottery and buy one of each!)"*
*Page 182, How Good Riders Get Good, Denny Emerson, Trafalgar Square Books

Now this is a statement coming from "One of the 50 most influential horsemen of the 20th Century", according to the Chronicle of the Horse.

Well, Denny, you just got me even more motivated to prove that Morgans can excel in upper level dressage.

Take a look at Saumur - or check out the accomplishments of the members of the Morgan Dressage Association... and then: Eat your words!

Professionals have coaches - what about amateurs?

I was thinking about a comment a fellow rider made the other day. She said that as she takes less lessons she feels that she is riding better. Having less 'micro-management' helps her figuring things out on her own. Of course, I immediately questioned myself "what's wrong with me?" I certainly don't ride better if I go long without coaching/lessons.

A friend of mine is a psychiatrist and specializes in "Mind Coaching". She works with top executives helping them become the best they can be in a extremely demanding and cut throat 'dog eat dog' environment. The statement on her website reads "Professionals have coaches. Amateurs do not". I would beg to differ, but the message is that if you take something serious and you want to be the best you can be you need a coach.

There are plenty of people that are very self-sufficient, work independently and achieve amazing results. All that (aside from not always having the "amazing results") applies to my professional and personal life. I abhor to be micro-managed.

As a rider, though, I rely on the expert advise, eyes on the ground, and feedback of my instructor or clinician. While I don't enjoy the constant corrections (that I need) they make me a better rider. Should I feel bad about this 'perceived neediness'? Absolutely not! Every Olympic athlete has one or even several coaches; the vast majority of accomplished riders work with instructors and coaches. So, yes, I admit that I am 'somewhat needy' - but only when it comes to my riding (don't tell me what to do anywhere else!)