I hate my horse today. Do you ever have a day when you just hate your horse? It happens to me once or twice a year. The truth is always, of course, that I want something to happen and it doesn’t- usually in a really big way.
Today I wanted to trailer to a friend’s to hack. Today I also had three interviews to do and needed to pack. Today it rained when there was suppose to be sunshine. Today the dogs wouldn’t come in. Today was not the day to take T-man.
Awww, but he needs the exercise, and it would be so good for him to ride with Patchwork, she’ll get his engine going. No one to help load today. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
What did he do? Nothing. NO THING. No movement. You have to move to get on the trailer. He did not move. I’m pretty good at getting a horse to move. I’ve been working with a stubborn horse for years. I know how to offset balance to create movement; if you push here it will move there; join-up, on and on and on. But when a long-backed, gumby, 900-pound horse plants his feet and grows roots there is a sense of finality to the moment.
Ever notice the more upset you get the more obstinate your horse becomes. Ever notice when you need your tools they are never around. No one at the barn, long purple guaranteed-to-walk-right-on lunge rope is gone, Carrot stick is just a stick, and the horse he stalks day and night is watching with a smile on his face swishing his tail.
Nope, not happening. Finally, he does move a little. He has earned the name Gumby for a reason. “Look I can do circus acts! I can bend in half. I can turn inside out.” And while I’m contemplating dragging the 200-pound mounting step to block one trailer side I’m not sure if it is my mind or his that is saying, “Are you sure you want to do that? A leg can step right into the underbelly and get caught and that’s a $4-500 vet bill.”
I finally gave up. But I showed him. I moved that little puppy all over his paddock and sent him to his room, closed all the doors, took out the hay, closed all the barn doors and drove off with his best friend, who happily plopped on the trailer.
I know it didn’t make a damn bit of difference to him, but I sure felt better sending him to his room. I probably should have just gone back to bed today myself, but the roof may have fallen in on top of me. Maybe I don’t hate my horse today; maybe I just hate the day.