From 0 to 100 in no time - and "just like a garden hose"

Ah, nothing like a good challenge: A lesson with a demanding Olympian after a whopping 15 minutes of riding in 9 days. And sure enough, Jan had us going from 0 to 100 in no time. It wasn't the best of days today, weather-wise. Warm and raining, which means I had to fight for every breath in the arena, even with my mask on.


Well, the good news is that I have better control of my shoulders. Bad news, I still don't have consistent contact with my right hand, meaning I give and take to much. When Remy doesn't go forward enough I give, and then he has nothing to go towards to.


Jan compared it with a garden hose, if you have it on full power and let go in front it will wiggle all over. If you have it turned on but keep a hold of the front you can control the movement. Yep, made perfect sense - of course!


I was happy with our ride. Remy kept his focus and worked his little butt off ... and quite frankly, so did I. Good thing we went to Dimitri's for breakfast this morning, my Spinach Omelet kept me going.


Remy wasn't worse for wear - he was off galloping with Chambord as soon as he came home. JP and I hopped into the sauna and afterwards replenished the lost fluids with champagne and we all agreed: Life is good :-)!

Back in the saddle - and a horse fix in form of a purse

Nine days without riding - one of the few things that keep me sane. But a weekend with a good friend in a fascinating city was great therapy, too. Ingrid met me at the Frankfurt airport and we traveled together to Porto, Portugal. We stayed at a historic luxury hotel right in the city center, and explored the UNESCO world heritage site from there. It was good that we had a day trip booked that showed us all the great sites, including a boat trip and a tour of a port winery with tasting. OK, it's official: I am not a fan of the sweet port. Give me a nice, light Loire wine or a Trollinger, or a really good champagne (which I'm having right now), and I'm happy.

Ingrid left and I had to pay my dues for the trip: A week of meetings. I was proud of myself that I kept the spines in. Ah, the advise from good friends: "Don't get into your Porcupine mode - keep the spines in".


Last night I came back to a clean barn, clean house, a full fridge, and happy husband. Note, the list is in random order. Tired but very happy to be home.


Remy was in Judy's capable hands while I was gone and she reported good flying changes. So today I finally could climb on again. We kept it short and sweet, just enough to find my 'riding legs' in preparation for our lesson with Jan tomorrow.


And I got a small horse fix in Porto after all: A purse with -you guessed it- a horse on it from the Portuguese company Cavalinho. It tied me over until I got to the real deal at home.

And the roller coaster ride continues - Highlights and low points

You could also say when it rains it pours. Still grieving for Max, then Teddy, the pony, had a worry-some colic episode (he's fine now), and to top it off my boss called yesterday to tell me I now report to a guy that is way less qualified and experienced than I am... but he's a guy and he's younger. What does that tell you?? Time to explore.


On the bright side, Jaas seems to slowly come out of her grief. She is eating again and overall more active. The boys are doing all well. My lessons with Remy are becoming the highlights. Judy made my day when she texted me that I'm doing well (after I questioned if I ride him well enough so she doesn't have to 'fix' my mistakes) and that our lessons are fun.


And JP of course does his darndest to keep our rides interesting - last time he lead us into a bog "oh, let's try a new trail". Luckily the boys kept their wits about them and their legs under them and got us out without pulling a tendon. Uff!


Tonight I'm flying to Europe. They highlight will be the weekend: Ingrid is joining me in Frankfurt and we travel together to Porto to spend the weekend exploring the city. The following week will be probably be the low point of the trip - meetings made even more 'fun' by the above mentioned changes. Oh well, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger!


Right when I get back I have a lesson with Jan to look forward to. Nothing like that to take your mind off anything else. You either focus or sweat it all out :-).

"With a little help from my friends" - Sadness lifts a bit

Friday night I hit a low point. It had been a stressful week at work and I was looking forward to  dinner at our favorite restaurant. Alas, we made the plans without one of the presidential candidates: He decided to campaign in Novi that evening, which meant that all freeways in the area were shut down. What can I say: No go. Three hours in the car, and I ended up dead tired, sad (missing Max) and sans dinner (too exhausted to eat) in bed.


Saturday we took the boys on a trailride, and that was an instant mood booster. Nothing like enjoying the quietness of the woods with my three favorite guys. It's almost like Remy senses my sadness, he's been even more sweet and cuddly than usual. JP tempted me to eat with a vegetarian Indian dinner, and we had a relaxed evening at home.


I got lost in a book (again), this time "Circling the Sun" by Paula McLain. It is a fascinating read, the life story of race horse trainer and aviator Beryl Markham. Beryl was an incredible strong and complex woman growing up in Africa in the 1920s.


Today we had another beautiful trailride, and I'm finally feeling less 'blue'. When I say "With a little help from my friends" I mean way more than "a little help", it takes a village: JP, the boys, the few close friends that are there for me whenever I need them, my books, Jaas, and the cats.


Stephanie, this one is for you:


Scheint Dir auch mal das Leben rauh
Sei still und zage nicht,
Die Zeit, die alte Buegelfrau,
Macht alles wieder schlicht.
(Wilhelm Busch)


Meaning:
If life sometimes seems rough, be quiet and don't despair. Time will eventually iron things out.
I do hope Wilhelm is right!

He was all I'm not - "sometimes you just have to have that unconditional love"

Max has touched a lot of people by giving unconditional love, always. All our visitors from Europe were just smitten by him, and he is the main reason why Stephanie and Harald decided to adopt their first dog.


Max was all I'm not - I definitely don't love everyone (actually, one could argue I'm overly selective in my relationships), and I'm not into adoring looks. He was timid, clingy, always forgiving and had the biggest heart of all.


What I learned from him was that you have to accept animals and people as they are. Max would never have been a brave, independent dog, but we didn't need that anyway. JP and I resorted to saying "that's just Max", and that was it.


I read recently a great interview with Ingrid Klimke about her training philosophies, and one thing struck me. She said: "You have to develop a loving look at weaknesses. It doesn't mean that accepting weaknesses means you stop trying to do your best, or give up on your horse. It means you have to adapt in that you look at weaknesses with love and not pejoratively, while to continue to work to improve the weak points. That way you keep the joy of the sport and it leaves room for positive surprises and future moments of happiness."


What reduced me to tears today was what a fellow rider said to me at the barn. She is a successful, beautiful, very wealthy woman who seemingly has it all. Her comment after learning about Max' passing: "I understand the loss - sometimes you just have to have that unconditional love." So true - and that is exactly Max' contribution to all that knew him.

Godspeed Max - RIP

The most gentle of souls has left us today -- Max passed away while the veterinarian was on the way to us. 

"My body is gone, but I am always near. I'm everything you feel, see or hear. My spirit is free, but I'll never depart, as long as you keep me alive in your heart."

Love Always

Not the best of times - it's hard to say good-bye

Well, what's been in the cards for a while now has become painfully obvious: It's time to say good-bye to Max. Max is one of our Viszla's, the gentlest of dog souls you can ever meet. He has been with us for almost 13 years. He was a 'failed' (gun shy) hunting dog, so obviously the breeder/hunter had no use for him. He was the runt of the litter and afraid of his own shadow, but turned into the most loving companion ever. There is a reason why Viszlas are also called "Velcro-Dogs" - they stick to you like Velcro.


He used to come with me and Saumur to our lessons at Julie's in Saline, patiently waiting for us to be done. I even took him with me XC schooling, and as they requested a companion listed on the registration form (no schooling alone) I entered Max. Not sure what he would have done should I have come off, though? Probably licked me until I got up.


Over the last months his health declined and he became very frail, so we knew we didn't have long. North of 13 is ancient for a large dog. But even last Thursday he still went out on his run in the woods with Jaas. But then he took a turn for the worse yesterday. It is clear it's time, even though Max doesn't seem to be in obvious pain he has stopped eating and can barely get up. Our regular vet doesn't answer the phone on the weekend, so I was getting really worried because we don't want Max to suffer. Luckily -or actually not to lucky because she had to go through it with her dog- a friend of mine recommended "Lap of Love" Veterinary Services. They provide hospice care and end of life services. The appointment is tomorrow.


I talked to my dad yesterday (he had hunting dogs most of his life, and as we always joked, first came the dogs then the rest of the family), and he reminded me that we have to consider ourselves lucky: Almost 13 wonderful years together, and we can make his passing peaceful at home. So, as I'm wiping away the tears, yes, indeed, that is what is important.