Horse of the Year 2025 Part 2: In-hand

We returned to Kyalami Park the day after the Arab classes with Wynnie and Charlie in tow. After the wild flurry that always precedes HOY, with so many horses to bath and plait and load and pack for, it was a huge relief to finally be on the road and ready to do the thing.

Charlie is a client's super cute partbred gelding and has actually never been to a show, but he's one of those people who just aren't bothered by anything, so I was confident about overnighting him. Wynnie was our earliest horse of the day on Saturday and I knew she'd overnight well because she has done so several times before. She loaded and traveled like an absolute superstar, although I'd put her ninja outfit on to keep her plaits clean and this proved to be a mistake. The poor girl sweats like her mother. She was sodden but unbothered when we got there, and neither of the two youngsters put a foot wrong when we arrived.

We found the show stables had suffered somewhat after weeks of rain and the paths in between were pretty muddy. The stables themselves were fine, but the amount of bugs gave me the heebie jeebies, so I absolutely drenched both horses in Tabard to keep the disease-carrying little blighters off. Both horses settled perfectly and were happy to nibble their hay while I got the stables set up and ready for what promised to be a chaotic following day.

We got an early start on Saturday morning. Erin kindly found time in a truly hectic schedule to come over and help with turning out Wynnie. Although Wynnie is solid bay and thus makes my life much easier, I was determined that she should look utterly spotless. If we weren't going to win the in-hand class, it sure as sugar wasn't going to be because of her turnout. I knew she had it in her to win the class and really wanted to do her justice, so I'd made an effort to improve my turnout game, which definitely included dragging Erin into it.

Before she got there, though, I made a bold effort at washing the sweat and Tabard off her from the night before. This proved easier said than done. First, when I went into the stable to feed her, Wynnie (very rudely) barged out the door and hooned around the stables, naked and feral.

"Loose horse," people yelled as she merrily trampled over the nice, professional grooming area that the Proper Showing People had set up.

"Loose horse!!" they shrieked as she almost mowed down a kid and pony.

"Don't worry," someone said, "there's the owner."

There the owner was indeed, following dejectedly behind with a rope halter, making despairing little cooing noises and brandishing a carrot. Wynnie didn't give a crap about me or my cooing noises or my carrot. She was having too much fun sowing chaos wherever she went.

"Oh, hey, Firn!" someone yelled.

There was a chorus of greetings from the other Nooitie people with their normal, sweet, well-behaved Nooities while I followed in the wake of the dragon spawn I bred.

She eventually dived underneath a half-unfolded gazebo for some grass and I managed to wrangle her halter on, whereupon she followed me back to her stable as meekly as a lamb.

The meekness didn't last. After her breakfast, I took her up to the horsebox to use our handy-dandy portable wash bay to get some of the stickiness out of her coat. This was a big ask - there were very few other horses visible and the box is a long way from the stables - and Wynnie did make a bit of a scene about this. She called, pawed, tried to push me over, and reared once in protest when I corrected her sharply with the halter. She did settle somewhat after a few minutes, but it wasn't productive, so I called it quits with only her shoulders and flanks clean and then attempted to graze her in the sunshine and get her dry.

We had variable success with this part. She spent much of that time grazing like a good girl, and the rest of it leaping around on her hindlegs in a very annoying manner. To her credit, it wasn't separation anxiety - she was fine about that once she could see other horses close by. It was more a case of being wet, fresh, and bored out of her skull. If I'd given her a five-minute lunge or even just some groundwork in the warmup, I'm willing to bet she would have chilled the heck out.

Anyway, she was at least well-behaved in the stable once we got back and she could entertain herself by eating hay instead of homicide. I polished her coat with Brylcreem - well, that's what I thought I was doing, anyway; turns out I was making artsy little streaks of oiliness all over her - and she was actually very good for me to plait her forelock. I also managed to clip her ears with a bit of clicker training and patience, which was great. Erin fixed her tail, which I hadn't clipped properly, and put on her beautiful checkerboard quarter marks.

Then, while we were still working on the finishing touches, they called our class ten minutes early. This happens to me every single year. I forget that dressage is dressage and you absolutely cannot be forced to go in before your ride time, but showing is showing and does what it wants. Ten minutes isn't a super long time, but it was the time I had set aside to walk Wynnie around and get her brain in gear, and that was the time we ended up not having.

Erin ran a last brush through Wynnie's tail and shoved us in. Rather, Wynnie dragged me in, plunging and snorting in all her draconic finery. She is her mother's daughter in many good ways, but also a few regrettable ones. It felt like wrangling a young (well... even a not-so-young) and angry Arwen as we absolutely charged around the arena with Wynnie doing her best to remove my arms from my sockets and me doing my best to keep a lid on the beast.

There were two key troubles here. The first was just that I hadn't taken enough time to get Wynnie moving around and focused on her job before we went in. The second was that Wynnie did not, in fact, understand the bit as clearly as I thought she did. She'd been so good for her in-hand work at home that I'd barely used the reins at all, only my voice and posture, keeping a smile in the reins like a good little horsewoman. We'd done a lot of lungeing in the stretchy thing, which gives only a really soft and gentle connection and really encourages the horse to go into the bridle and stretch down without any fear of their mouth. This is awesome and everything, but it left me almost entirely without brakes. The more I pulled, the more she merrily pulled, too.

It took me a hot minute to figure this out. By the time I did, we had wrestled each other around the show ring and then had a fairly catastrophic trot during which she exhibited none of her loose and beautiful movement but a few very credible airs above the ground.

To her enormous credit, though, Wynnie never once fidgeted in the halt. Once homegirl was standing, she was standing. It was the moving that was the problem. I stood her up for the judge, who looked her up and down and said, "Walk away and trot back, please, and pray that she behaves."

I did, and she did. We walked away and trotted back without turning a hair, but it was already too late. Wynnie had proven herself a misbehaving renegade and came second to another very gorgeous filly. By the time they handed out the ribbons, I had made the tremendous leap of intellect that perhaps I should stop pulling on the reins and use the same training principles with which I had, in fact, raised the horse. I started to use click and reward every time she behaved instead of merely hauling on her mouth. Miraculously, the horse started to behave the instant I was consistent and clear. Amazing. What a shocker.

I was tired, annoyed, and a little bummed out as we left the arena. Wynnie has been so well-behaved at previous shows that I didn't put much thought into how she would be at this one, so I wasn't expecting to have any difficulty with her. I had the feeling she might have done better if only she'd been more chill when we went in (read: if only I had done the stuff that I should've done, I realize, with my 20/20 hindsight). Also, I was just over it, because we all know how incredibly fun it is to get squished, trampled, and pulled around by an increasingly big and strong young horse.

She stood mostly still as we waited to go back in for the championship, and once we did, she behaved perfectly. When my expectations were clear, she met them. (Amazing how horses behave better when we, like, do the thing correctly). We didn't get any ribbons in the championship, with the first-placed senior mare winning it and the junior winner getting reserve, but at least Wynnie was good and I could look forward to the group class later.

I showed dear old Charlie, who was perfect in every imaginable way and a wonderful experience after wrangling Wynnie (we won't mention that I have fussed over Wynnie's training for three years and this is her fourth HOY, while Charlie had never shown before and we'd only had him four months). Then it was time for little Raya's first ever show.

Raya had been a superstar leading up to this show. My expectations for a baby's first show are super low: load politely, travel without incident, and then have a positive experience the rest of the time. I had her in the stud group class with Wynnie because then she wouldn't even have to trot up by herself - she could merely follow Wynnie. Life was so hectic with prepping eight horses for HOY that we only actually got around to teaching Raya to trot in hand the week before, but she just did it like the perfect angel child she is. She even stood, snoozing, for me to plait and sew in her hair on the Thursday afternoon.

The stud group was right after the geldings, so I didn't even have time to get her ready myself. K and BarnRat did so with variable enthusiasm. I had just enough time to notice that no one had thought to, well, run a brush through Raya's tail before the ring steward was calling us in. I grabbed Wynnie, K grabbed Raya, and in we went.

This time, Wynnie had had the chance to settle, and she was pretty much perfect from the first step. Darling little Raya was an absolute angel from start to finish. She's a quiet little soul, friendly and calm, happy to cooperate as long as she gets a little attention and maybe a treat or two. She followed Wynnie around without a single misstep.

They both stood up beautifully for the judge, who asked if Raya was Wynnie's baby (no, ma'am, she is not, but the resemblance is strong). We then had to walk away and trot back together. We executed a lovely walk and symmetrical turn, and then things went a bit pear-shaped when we started to trot. Wynnie accidentally stood on the edge of one of the tekkies (sneakers?) I'd elected to wear for the in-hand, and it came right off. She barely even stepped on it, to be honest---her foot grazed mine when we trotted off. The show must go on, I decided, so I ran across the show arena with one tekkie and one bright blue socks with cute little dogs wearing sunglasses on it.

I giggled. K was appalled. The judge informed me that I could go back and get my shoe, so I ran back across the arena as everyone watched, grabbed it, shoved it on, and returned to Raya's side. Wynnie, to her credit, was angelic for this part.

A lot of weird and silly things have happened to me in the show ring, but that was definitely a first.

We didn't get any placings in the stud group class (not a huge surprise, as all the different breeders show their very best horses in the group class, and that doesn't usually include growthy little yearlings and misbehaving three-year-olds), but I was just so happy with how little Raya had behaved---and with the fact that Wynnie had finally screwed her head back on straight---that I honestly didn't care.

That wrapped up the stressful in-hand part. It was time to relax, focus, and enjoy the grownup horses in the riding classes.

God is good.

Horse of the Year 2024: In-Hand

 I can hardly believe another year has passed and it's time for the best and most fun show of the calendar again. Despite the fact that HOY is always the most pressure, stress, and effort of the year, it's also always the most epic. Hubby and I consider it a huge highlight. Spoiler alert: this year was no exception.

I woke up on the Wednesday night before HOY and realized with horrible suddenness that I haven't actually bathed Wynnie since HOY 2023. Not that she really needs it - she is solid bay, after all - but I was gripped with panic that she wouldn't stand for a bath.

a riding school aunt took so many photos

My concerns were deeply unwarranted. Not only did Wynnie stand perfectly still to be washed from head to toe, she was perfect in our handful of in-hand sessions to prepare for her classes. At first she didn't want to trot - until she got her first click and reward for a few trot steps. After that, she trotted up effortlessly with a voice command. I didn't have to pull to get her to go or stop or stay beside me - it was pretty cool.

We also worked on standing square, which she didn't quite do on her own by the end of the sessions but she easily went there when asked. As an aside, this is the first youngster I've clicker trained, and I am absolutely going to do the same with Raya when the time comes. She's at the point where she immediately looks around for a treat when she sees a Scary Thing.

click treat, feat. ugly plaits

Getting her ready that evening in the dark was effortless. She didn't move a muscle as I clipped her legs and face. She even stood sleeping on Friday night while I plaited her mane, which was a total disaster through no fault whatsoever of Wynnie's. Her hair is really long and thick, but has a missing chunk in the middle, so I couldn't show her natural. We ended up showing in the biggest, ugliest, fattest pull-through plaits you've ever seen in your life. Sensitive viewers should avert their eyes.

Faith's prep was less promising. She has been working hard with E2 and K, but often moved short with K and we couldn't quite figure out why. I think her obesity has a lot to do with it, possibly leading to a little tenderness on her feet, but then again she would move beautifully for E2 on the same surfaces. Anyway, the week before HOY, Faith was better than ever under saddle.

Studvet Turbo, Wynnie's paternal grandsire, who is 26 now and still going strong

Show time clashes meant that I'd be showing her in the hand, so I practiced a little with K screaming at me to run faster (I've got little legs) and she was really super in hand. K had done a fantastic job before last HOY getting her to stand square and trot up easily.

Arwen's prep was pretty unremarkable. We've already settled into a fun routine of bathing, manic tail-scrubbing, and plaiting. She snoozes in the cross ties while I work; I listen to the Compelled podcast to keep my perspective, and it's almost as much fun as the actual show. While she was not amused about being locked in a small paddock for the night, she only galloped around for a couple of minutes before resigning herself to her fate of eating a huge net of hay.

Raya and Wynnie's daddy Dakota as a young stallion

We finished up on Friday afternoon with a bit of box training, just a refresher for those who hadn't been in the four-berth box before or hadn't been out for ages. Wynnie walked right in, obviously, but Faith was extremely dubious. We could get her in, but I physically couldn't shove her over enough to close the partition. Everyone started to get stressed out at that point, and it was getting late, so we took her back to the stable in the hopes that BarnRat would be able to help me close the partition.

At half past four the next morning, however, all four mares (including Erin's lovely mare and Arwen) loaded like a dream. We put the lunge line behind Faith and she was unsure, but it only took ten minutes to get her in, and hubby was able to push the partition closed. It appears I no longer need to wrap him quite so heavily in cotton wool.

With that, we were off to Horse of the Year Show 2024: my poor husband with a literal truckload of girls and mares. They traveled perfectly and unloaded calm and happy at the show, even - perhaps especially - Wynnie. She seemed to look around and say, "Oh, this place again," then immediately settled down to hand graze. In fact, I handed her to BarnRat so that I'd have both hands free to wrangle Arwen, who turned out not to need any wrangling. She was chill from the moment we got there.

We tucked the mares into their stables and immediately leaped into action. C and BarnRat helped Erin and K to turn out their Boerperd mares to the nines while I got Wynnie ready and helped with Faith. For the record, bay horses are the best thing ever. I sprayed some shine spray, brushed her tail, wiped her face and put her halter on while everyone else ran around painting Wompom on white legs and bemoaning grass stains. In a flurry of activity, everyone was ready, and we all set off for in-hand: K and Erin to the Boerperd arena, and Faith and Wynnie to the Bob Charter arena. Arwen came along so that she wouldn't be all alone in the stables.

Faith and I arrived at the arena gate with a little time to spare. The gigantic Bob Charter was divided in half, with the showing happening on the far end near the restaurant. Faith and I hung out on the other side for a while and I immediately knew that we were going to have a rough time of it. Faith couldn't see Wynnie and Arwen - although there were other horses in the arena with her - and it worried her hugely.

I walked her around a little and we discussed the fact that feelings are okay but running over your handler is not okay at all. She was still tense and pulling but no longer trying to squash me when the steward called us in and I showed the big girl for the first time in years.

photo by Denford Studios

She was understandably worried but actually the best I've ever seen her in hand. In motion, she was perfect. She wasn't into standing still, but did so long enough for the judge to look at her. Her trot was really cool despite my tiny legs and she pinned second in a medium-sized class, her best in-hand result yet.

After Faith's championship class, where she didn't place, we quickly trotted out and I handed her off to the girls in exchange for Wynnie. We went straight in with no time to get her settled, which turned out not to be a problem at all, because Wynnie was utterly chill. She called to Arwen once or twice, but never really looked around for her. Instead, she marched into the show arena like she owned it.

I had a pocketful of small treats and I unashamedly deployed them with frequency because my little two-year-old was foot perfect. She tossed her head a little and had an excited step or two in her trot, but didn't yank me around or jump up. She barely even fidgeted when she had to stand still in the lineup - which is a feat for a baby her age.

photo by Denford Studios

I was glowing with pride even before the judge placed her second in a class of five, which I was over the moon with. She's only two and her class was fillies four and younger, so there were much more mature girls in the class, and she stood up well against them. More importantly, she was pleasant to handle and enjoyed herself. She knows this game now and she likes it. I think she's going to be an absolute pleasure for her first ridden show.

We had a short break before the group class, which gave me time to get Arwen spot washed and polished for her baby riding classes with a little kiddo. (More on those later). I handed Wynnie to C while I was busy with Arwen and she quickly figured out that she could drag poor C all over the place. When I took her back, she tried to walk over me and got bopped in the shoulder with a showing cane. She took the correction with grace but she was starting to run out of patience - understandably for her age. Annoyingly, it took several reminders for her to stay out of my space, and this transferred into her class somewhat.

photo by Denford Studios

We headed in for her group class, where two horses from the same sire or dam are presented, and showed alongside her beautiful half-sister also by Dakota. Wynnie was getting a little irritable at this point and wiggled around in the lineup a little. I gave her the tip of the showing cane to chew and that settled her somewhat. She gave a jump when we trotted up, but never brought any feet near me, and trotted nicely by my side despite some annoyed head-shaking. I had to remind her to stay out of my space a few times, too. Nothing was horrible, she was just really over it by that point and that's okay.

Hubby was having an amazing time. He thinks Wynnie is the most beautiful horse he's ever seen, and we brought his bike along to the show, which was a stroke of genius on his part. He zoomed around happily fetching and carrying and none of the horses seemed to mind. Each time we won a ribbon, he hung it on his bike. It was delightful.

We got third in a fairly large class and then poor baby Wynnie could go for a rest. It was time to get Arwen and her kiddo into the arena, and this was the class that I was the most invested in for the whole show.

More on that later. God is so good.

the first of many

Bodywork for All

 Even with the kiddos returning to lessons after the school holiday, I have finally gotten something of a handle on fitting farm management into my day-to-day and so we have hit our stride in a more normal routine again. This meant lots of work for the two greys, which inevitably led to some bodywork being required.

It started on Wednesday last week when I was grooming the Lanceycorn and he flinched when I was brushing his back. I checked and found he was pretty sore right behind his withers. We've been working quite hard this winter - lots of climbing hills and working on straighter, more collected canter work and mediums - and I dithered about giving him time off until he could see a bodyworker or keeping him in motion. I opted to keep riding and see if it improved or got worse, and with a lot of long and low stretchy work, the tenderness was better but not gone.

hacking a very spicy Stardust, who is at last sound and back to work after her abscess ordeal last year, in lieu of lame Lancey

I checked in with a physio/massage lady who could come out this week and she said to keep him moving and stretching until she visited, but this backfired when he argued with Sahara and kicked the stable wall, bruising his left hind. It was really mild but he was a bit lame at first so he had several days off while we waited for the physio.

Meanwhile, Arwen was working really well on the whole, but I could tell she needed some work on her hind end. She had one day a couple weeks ago where her rein-backs broke halfway through the ride. She's always struggled a bit with them, which worsened after the birth of Wynnie and the subsequent sagging of the dragonbelly, but that day she did them nicely and then flatly refused to do them at all. Refusing outright isn't like her so I backed off and we just touched on them the next day, where she did them but begrudgingly.

why yes that is a matchy new browband

She also had a few moments where she wanted to rear or kick out at my right leg - Lancey uncharacteristically did this a couple times too, so I'm certain my own body is funky as well. While she absolutely understands the changes mentally (it didn't take long), she also had some difficulty changing left to right, leaping through them in a way that felt like she was struggling to get her right hind underneath her. Most horses would simply change in front and go disunited, but not the dancing dragon. Oh no. Increased airtime was absolutely her solution to this problem.

On Monday, we rode in the double. I've been alternating the snaffle and the double lately - she's okay in the snaffle for a ride or two, then goes back to pulling like an absolute freaking train - and it works really well. It keeps me honest about the connection but also prevents my arms from being pulled out of their sockets. (Dragons gonna dragon). We played with the idea of the pirouettes, which I have no idea if we have any right to be doing, but she sat down and lifted really well to the left. The right was a bit more messy, but she gets the idea. We finished by taking E2 and Leia for a hack, for which Arwen was absolutely impeccable. For once.

a behaving dragon

Lancey's leg looked fine, but I gave him an extra day off to be safe and just replaited his mane instead of riding. I did Wynnie's mane too, including asking a bit more than usual of her by tying her next to the tack room and plaiting her there while Lancey went inside to the stable. She was concerned about this at first and remained quite wiggly throughout, but respected my space in the end and settled considerably when she realized that standing quietly resulted in treats. We also measured Wynnie for the first time in ages and discovered that she's just shy of 14.1hh at 18 months. Considering that Arwen and Dakota are both 14.3, I'm guessing she might turn out a little bit bigger. Erin holds firm she's going to leave hony territory behind but I cling to my hope that she'll be 15.1 at the biggest.

Tuesday morning I lunged Arwen in the Pessoa real quick so that we could fit in a workout before Lancey's physio came. She's surprisingly pleasant to lunge and keeps most of the chaotic good under wraps, although on this day she wanted to fall in to the right, which had become a thing under saddle lately too.

The physio lady was met with an absolutely disgusting grubby Lancey, which unfortunately is the Lancey we have this winter as my clippers died a tragic death after a decade of faithful service. We took him to the barn to take thermal pictures, which was cool to see. He was a bit hotter on one side than the other, and there was some heat over his lower back, but otherwise he looked fine.

I've never been given a more detailed and thorough report than from this bodyworker - hugely recommended

Wynnie lost her marbles in the paddock because Lancey was out of sight, but to his credit he didn't get stressed or wiggly. He answered a few times when she called him, but didn't call to her first. Before long, he was enjoying a lovely massage, especially on his lower back and bum. The physio didn't find any restrictions or particular problems - she said he was just muscle sore from working harder than normal and building strength. After the massage, his back wasn't tender at all anymore. She also showed me some massages and stretches I could do to help him as he builds strength for the more collected work.

Finally, Lancey got his butt taped with kinesiology tape. It stayed on surprisingly well for how dirty he was, but I had to pull it off on Wesdnesday afternoon because it had started to come loose.

Both ponies had Wednesday off because we drove halfway across Mpumalanga to go and see a traumatized Appaloosa who is coming to visit in the spring for E2 and I to try and help him. He was interesting to work with and so kind. I admit that, now that I'm not the one who actually has to get on, I look forward to working with a remedial one again. We haven't had one in ages.

Before we went to meet Trauma Appy, though, the chiro visited Arwen. He found restriction in her left bum and correspondingly in her right neck, so she got acupuncture and adjustments. Nothing was major or injury-related, just normal maintenance, so he left us with instructions to do a stretchy ride on Thursday and then normal work on Friday.

she was only moderately incorrigible for this visit

Thursday rolled around unusually overcast and blisteringly cold with a howling wind, but with strict instructions from the physio and chiro not to let the horses stand around and get stiff, I saddled Lancey up with freezy fingers and tried for a ride. He was a little spooky and spicy, only to be expected for someone who'd had a week off and was being ridden in that weather, but felt really good. The bodywork had clearly left him feeling loose and powerful, so we had a good time and he was lovely in the bridle for the first half-hour or so, only getting a bit fussy toward the end.

This thing of his with throwing his head on occasion has been a thorn in our sides ever since I bought him (which was... four years ago?) and it's such a hard one to figure out. Nobody can find a physical cause, but I have this nagging feeling that surely if it was purely a training issue, it would have resolved by now. It's better, but still remains the focus of most of our sessions. I've occasionally gotten myself into the trap of forgetting about his back end (which, obviously, doesn't help at all), but even with the rest of his body in order, he's always looking for a way out of the contact. It's been tempting to give up on dressage altogether but he can be so, so good and so, so enjoys attention, so we'll keep searching for ways to finally get rid of the issue.

always wanted a halter like this as a kid lol

By the time I was done with lessons that afternoon, it was absolutely frigid and I couldn't bring myself to do much more than pull Arwen's snaffle bridle on and walk around in the arena for fifteen minutes. She was really well behaved, to her credit, despite the weather.

Friday was a fabulous day. Arwen gave me the time of my life that morning despite another windy, overcast day. We test rode most of Medium 3 and she felt incredible in the bridle - soft and easy and more supple than usual. Her trot work was all totally solid, and most of the canter work was good, although I didn't set her up well for the first change left to right which made the change immediately after that a bit dodgy as well. Still, we would have gotten through it at a show, which was great.

The Lanceycorn was slightly less great on Friday afternoon than he had been on Thursday, but not dreadful. I dialed our half-passes back to the long diagonal instead of the short diagonal to work on the impulsion and correctness and he gave me some really, really good ones in trot. We've pushed pause on the canter lateral work and changes again (sigh) because of the connection and straightness issues, but hopefully we'll get back to that really soon.

A good and busy week for the greys while Thunder continued to enjoy big boy school. More on that next week!

God is good.

Winter Dramas

(CW: laceration to a horse's face with pictures)

Highveld winter weather is some of the nicest we get all year. The nights are cold, going below freezing, but there's little wind and almost no rain and daytimes are balmy and comfortable, usually around 20C. It's one of the reasons why many of our major shows take place in midwinter, when they generally don't get rained out.

The only bummer when it comes to riding is that the daylight hours get pretty short, but I can still usually fit a horse or two in most days. With SANESA season heading toward winding down and the kiddos busy with exams and holidays, I was really looking forward to a productive riding winter. So far... that hasn't happened.

Because of the family member's mental health, I've taken over running the Jersey herd. It's really fun - also cows are amazing and do not spend 90% of their lives coming up with inventive new ways to be sick or injured - but has eaten my time somewhat while I adjust to the extra responsibility.

I also suspect I'm operating under a low-level sort of burnout. It's not the stressed, getting-no-sleep, one-meal-a-day, can't-keep-my-eyes-open burnout that I had last year, thank God (sincerely), just a vague sense of not having the emotional or physical energy for much. This autumn was really rough both emotionally and physically and I just need a minute to recover, I think. Something to focus on during the upcoming school holidays.

There are exciting things in the works, though. On Saturday, we dropped Thunder off at J's for the winter to get ready for Advanced and beyond. It was a really hard choice for me, because Thunny and I haven't ever really been separated for more than 8-9 days, and he's going to be away for three long months. But J made me an offer I couldn't refuse and honestly, it's just not fair on the big guy anymore. He's doing so well in his Medium work and riding him is so exciting and fun, but we're genuinely struggling with the pirouette canter and the pirouettes. That old issue of not having him active enough keeps biting me in the butt and I don't have the toolkit to fix it to the point where we can do a pirouette on my own. It's better for us both if he can learn the fancy tricks from an expert, and then teach them to me.

Also, thanks to the aforementioned loss of daylight, I just don't have the time to school all three. Thunder was the obvious choice to go for schooling and I'll have Arwen and Lancey at home to play with all winter. Plus, I get to visit him and ride him at J's, so it's really exciting. I'm so grateful for the chance to get Thunder produced to his full potential.

On the same day that we dropped Thunder off -- he immediately went to graze happily in his fancy new field, while I was a blubbering mess, sorry J -- Wynnie did this to her face.

(Mega gory photo below. Do not proceed if squeamish).

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(I did warn you).

At 6:15 when the guys fed her, she was fine. At 7:30 when they went to take her out, she had THIS on her head. It was difficult to see the full extent at that point, so I cleaned it up, put some antibiotic cream on, put her fly mask on and called the vet. He came out that afternoon, sedated her, injected some local anaesthetic, and then gently pulled the flaps of the wound aside to assess it.

And I looked at my baby horse's skull. At her BONE. I have seen my share of gross animal injuries (and gross human injuries as a first aider) but I'll admit my stomach did a little cartwheel at the sight.

The vet cleaned up the edges, flushed the wound, and sewed it up.

He was sure it would heal nicely, since the bone wasn't damaged, and it did look much nicer once it had been sutured. Then, a few days later, when I went to clean it a bunch of gunk came out of the top. I squeezed lightly and there was a glorious explosion of chunky yellow pus. Absolutely delightful at eight in the morning on a bellyful of eggs.

Despite the antibiotic injections and cleaning, there was an infection under the stitches and it was disgusting. Poor Wynnie's wound was puffy and red. I called the vet again and got instructions to continue the injections and flush the wound twice a day with lukewarm saline, then squirt a little penicillin directly into the wound. Let me tell you, I was not particularly looking forward to this activity with an 18-month-old horse. 

Despite my misgivings, Wynnie has been amazing. I used a lot of positive reinforcement to make the injections a non-event -- she now turns her head for a treat when she feels the needle -- but the flushings are still a bit of a wrestling match, understandably. They're sore and uncomfortable. I have my lovely groom M hold a bucket of the nicest muesli I have under her nose, and she chomps away while I flush the boo-boo. It's not fun for anybody, and she still moves her head around trying to escape, but there have been no fireworks. I'll take it.

fun fact: unlike her mom, Wynnie is a very cheap date

There was significantly less pus this morning, and her temperature has been fine even though she's off the flunixin now, so I think we're winning. Her magnificent stitches-on-a-Saturday vet bill is a whole 'nother story, but luckily I'm on the brink of finishing a novel so we'll be fine.

Despite being gross and dirty (my clippers have been in for repairs for 6 weeks now... yes, 6 weeks), Lancey is still managing to be a fantastically good boy. We're exploring more power in his gaits as well as playing with the later EM work, and yesterday we touched on the changes again. He gave me one each way, very clean and easy, after a few attempts, so we called it a day on that high note.

Arwen has been similarly fantastic. She still DRAGONLEAPS into her change from left to right, but the right to left one is easy and soft now, and she's significantly more supple. Once we have paid Wynnie's Bill of Magnificence I hope we might get to do some dressage this winter.

And old Skye is doing really well. Not quite as fat as she is in summer, but coping nicely on her soupy diet and wreaking general havoc when the lesson children are unwise enough to leave treats lying around.

It's chaotic, but we're okay.

God is good.

Week Recap

 We started out this week in the Eastern Cape, nursing my granny after a minor eye surgery. Granny turned out not to need any nursing whatsoever and bounced right back after the surgery, leaving us to enjoy a quiet week in East London. I missed my horses with a fierce intensity that I haven't felt since I was a little kid; it's safe to say that my love of riding has returned full strength, and I am so grateful for it. It's a gift from God and one that I thought I had lost for a minute there.

We visited our favourite local haunt, the Sea Spirit, ate way too much seafood, spent some time splashing around on the beach, and went to see a movie for the first time in a while. I read Felix Francis' Pulse (standard engaging Francis fare) and James Patterson's The Horsewoman, which was disappointingly poorly researched, and I'm not even being a snobby horse person critiquing everything just to prove how smart I am. It just... completely failed to capture what riding really is, and made it feel like any other high-stakes sport. Sorry Mr. Patterson, I know you are rolling in dough thanks to your writing prowess, but I didn't like it.

I quickly remedied this by reading the next instalment in Jeffery Deaver's Colter Shaw series, which has been impeccable so far, because Deaver just always is.

there were so many doggos on this beach

Anyway, it was lovely seeing my grandparents and spending the entire week basically inseparable from my husband, but when we got on the plane to go home on Tuesday I was ready to get back to the beautiful life we've been given at home.

Steve picked us up from the airport and she was delighted to be reunited with DH, and he likewise squawked "Steve!" the moment he spotted her. I swear I'm the third wheel around here sometimes.

It's the first time I've flown since I was a tiny girl, and it felt like time travel. One moment I was at the beach and the next I was in my home arena, teaching lessons.

I was too tired to ride once all the lessons were done, so I hung out with Wynnie and did her mane instead. She chomped on her haynet, happy for the attention, and stood almost perfectly still for the whole thing. I can't believe she's growing up so fast.

On Wednesday morning I got to try out some new goodies I'd ordered that had, characteristically, arrived while I wasn't home. Thunder has been desperately needing a new girth for an embarrassing amount of time and I got this nice Capriole one for like R500 from Tack Shack. (That's about $30). It's elasticated, shaped and nicely padded, and I'm fairly impressed for the price. I also managed to guess the right size perfectly, so bully for me. (It's 24", in case I forget again by the time I need another one).

I don't think I've mentioned Thunder's new saddle yet, either. Back in the days of being a teenager with parents who fed me, I bought three saddles - a JC jumping, a Kent & Masters jumping, and a Wintec 250 dressage. The JC was sold to Jamaica's child after Magic retired and is being passed on to Jamaica's new child, the K&M has had a thousand tiny repairs done and goes on Flashy, Midas and Faith, and the Wintec 250 is still going strong and fits Arwen and Lancey. Not a single one of the above ever really fit Thunder. I discovered a Blackburn dressage in the tack room at the Friesians and asked to buy it, at which point the owner promptly gave it to me. It didn't fit me but it more or less fit him and I probably wouldn't have been able to ride him at all for the past two years if it wasn't for that Blackburn.

Still, it moved at the back and I drowned in it, so I was saving up for a new saddle even before holes got worn in the saddle flap and knee rolls. I was anticipating paying a small fortune for even a secondhand synthetic dressage until J came through for me and worked a little bit of magic to get me a secondhand Flexi Rider dressage for half the price I would have paid anywhere else. It's in pristine condition and fits Thunder perfectly once I'd put in a red (wide) gullet plate.

used a half pad under it while we waited for the new gullet to come

The Flexi Rider is a sort of Wintec knock-off, although the quality seems better than the Wintecs I've sat in. This one sits very similarly to the Isabel Werth, which is my favourite saddle in the universe. I love it to pieces and so far it's been life-changing for both Thunder and me. And that concludes the most painless saddle shopping experience ever.

Anyway, E2 the work rider (who is back now that her collarbone is better, yay!) posted on her WhatsApp status that she had some stirrups and leathers for sale at a total bargain, so I asked her to bring them. They turned out to be Prestige MG stirrups and I got them for an embarrassingly tiny amount of money (like... $15?) even though I did try to offer her more.

They're a little beat up but I'm pretty sure DH can work his magic and make them beautiful. I'm thinking... silver glitter. I like the broader footplate and the weight of them (they are HEAVY), although I'll still scrounge a pair of Nu Angles somewhere one day.

Thus dolled up in all the New Stuff, Thunder and I had a sticky sort of ride. K had been riding him last week and Sir TBird clearly took advantage and plopped around a bit. I also felt a little discombobulated up there after like 10 days off riding. It wasn't bad, just sort of lazy and meh, so we kept it simple and focused on gait quality. Either way, it was so, so good to be back on him again.

He's going to J's for three months in the winter to be made Extra Fancy and I am not entirely sure how I'm going to survive that, but I know it'll be worth it for both of us. It's not fair on him for his ammy mom to try and teach him the PSG movements alone. J Boot Camp will be far better for us both.

That afternoon, after a quick catch-up lesson for Shaila, I saddled up Madam Dragon in her adorable new outfit. Steve and DH clubbed together to get me my first proper matchy matchy set for my birthday last month, and now I am a real proper dressage queen. Did I mention that the numnah is glittery? It is so, so glittery.

K and E2 and my super groom, M, had kept Arwen thoroughly in work while I was away - she is so fat that she really can't have any time off - and she was really pleasant from the moment I got on. Arwen is used to having lots of people ride her and very quickly adjusts back to me. As always, we did a lot of work on suppleness. Her gaits are solid quality now, and the suppleness is slowly improving. We finished off by playing with the flying changes for the second time. Technically she needs a suppler topline before the changes are really going to be anything, but she has been offering them so I'm not going to turn it down. She tries really hard and gets the idea, but we need a bit more practice - and, again, suppleness - to make them clean. She's the first one I've had that changes behind first and then takes a stride or two to change in front.

Lancey had a photo shoot the next morning so I didn't want to ride him and make him all dirty again, but also didn't want to fall and die considering that we were taking pictures in the cosmos flowers, which are taller than we are. I gave him a little free lunge and he was actually sort of flat, but very obedient.

The next morning bright and early E2 arrived. She wanted cosmos photos for her portfolio and offered me a short shoot for a great price. Lancey was spicy and playful as we walked out to the flowers, which are currently in full bloom. I know they're invaders but cosmos time is still my favourite time of year. The whole farm is decked out in a way that puts me in mind of the heavenly Jerusalem coming down out of the sky as the Bride of the Lamb. I'll post all the photos later with some poetic drivel I'm working on, but here's a sneak peek.

by Erin Vogler Photography

It was really fun. Lancey was spicy and threw one little porpoise-y buck, but he was so game to do whatever weird thing I asked. We even cantered a short distance through the flowers (almost squashing Blizzy in the process) and he went boldly, no questions asked, leaping through them to keep his legs from getting tangled up. I'm not sure there's another horse in the world that I'd ask to do that.

On Thursday afternoon between lessons I hopped on Thunder with a bit of a more businesslike approach and made it clear that we were going forward from the very first stride. He immediately obliged and was actually pretty spicy after just a few minutes, giving me everything willingly and easily. It was really, really great. I carried my whip, but only used it twice; the rest of the time he went straight off my leg. We played with lateral work to heat him up and he gave me really super half-pass zig-zags in trot, quarter line to quarter line to centreline, with a soft easy bend.

Since those were so easy, we took a shot at a movement we actually haven't tried before - the same movement in canter with flying changes. The first time through he got a bit excited and thought we were doing tempis, so it was a bit hair-raising, but when we did it the second time I felt him say "oh! it's like the thing we do in trot" and it was smooth. Not perfect, but smooth and easy with clean changes. That made my day.

We also went back to working on the pirouette canter and large quarter pirouettes for the first time since getting our new saddle, and that was much easier than before. There was no getting stuck or kicking my leg. I worked hard to stay sitting up instead of curling over my hands, and it was the best work I've had from him. He was sweaty when we were done, but didn't feel tired. I think the muscular stamina is finally getting there.

Arwen was supposed to have her weekly jump with a kiddo on Thursday afternoon, but when kiddo rescheduled to Friday, M just gave her a good lunge instead.

Friday morning dawned with the exciting promise of lessons with J, always a huge highlight for me. I brushed Thunder's mane out - it's getting all long and Friesian-y now - and groomed him to within an inch of his life. His legs are being eaten up by the flies a bit, but the rest of his skin weathered this summer better than it's done in years. We're looking for some heavy-duty fly boots for him to survive being out in a large field with friends all summer, so if anyone knows of a good brand, let me know. We can get most of the overseas brands down here.

J was in fine form on Friday and put us straight to work, teasing all the way. I thought I might have a tired, flat Thunder after riding him the previous afternoon, but instead, Thunder was so ready to work. I'm not sure if it was my more positive mindset or if his old saddle was bugging him more than I realized. Either way, he put his ears up and said "Yes, ma'am!" the second I put my leg on, so that was really great.

We warmed up with lots of rein-back, stretchy walk and some loose working trot, and then got right to business. J introduced piaffe/half steps on the long reins a few lessons ago, when we were in no-saddle-limbo, and today we tried it with me on board. My job was simply to sit still, keep him straight and soft, and not get my leg squashed against the wall. J was giving the orders. I'd done the same thing a few years ago but on J's two GP horses, so things were a little more complicated for me this time. Not that Thunder had forgotten how to piaffe - on the contrary, he knew perfectly well that if he gave John two or three solid steps (not expressive yet, but rhythmic and sitting), he would get a big pat and some treats. In Thunder's mind, therefore, there was no need to take more than two or three steps. The moment J gave him the voice command for piaffe (a rhythmic cluck, in his case), Thunder sat down and gave two nice steps and then stopped and turned his head for the treat. I was an accessory.

J rewarded him the first time and then started to ask him for a few more steps at a time, slowly building the strength that will eventually lead to more collection and expression. Thunder seems to find this movement deceptively easy. He's not very extravagant but there's a very solid rhythm and he can already do several steps almost completely on the spot. He did want to go backwards once or twice, though, at which point I kicked him forward a bit, and once he threatened to give a buck. No one got annoyed with him for that - he's allowed to express a lack of understanding or fatigue. Most of the time, though, I barely had any contact on the reins at all. He understands and likes this game because there are treats involved. 

We continued the lesson working on that ever-elusive collected canter that I struggle with so much. On the day, though, his collected canter was nearly effortless, in no small part because homeboy was HOT after all the piaffe work. J gave me a few reminders to keep my left rein the same length as the right rein and to keep his neck straight without worrying too much about the position. If he needs to lift his nose up a bit at this stage in order to engage his butt, then that's what he needs to do. There's no use trying to make a frame in front without true collection from behind, and it's not going to be perfect while he's still finding his balance in the ultra-collected movements. We proceeded to pirouette canter with a little help from the ground and got three or four almost on the spot steps at a time.

J left us with strict homework: collected and pirouette canter work, using treats to reward him after good steps just like we do with the half-steps/piaffe. My job is to interfere much less and trust the horse to carry himself far more. He's a big boy now and he can do things independently - I generally just get in his way. I need to be uncompromising about my leg aid in a way that allows me to keep my leg almost completely off except for tiny reminders from my upper calf even in pirouette canter. (Carl Hester's whole thing about riding a lazy horse with the leg off certainly applies).

Thunder hardly felt tired by the end of the lesson and barely sweated, although, granted, it was a cool autumn morning. He felt ready for more. I think we're actually getting somewhere now.

Lancey was next, and I was a little worried about him. I'd heard him cough once or twice when he was turned out and his legs were quite stocked up. He does that sometimes, and he had a normal temperature with no discharge and acted completely like himself, but I decided to keep a really close eye on him. Probably my favourite thing about riding with J is that he advocates, hard, for the horse above all things, more so than anyone else I've ever ridden with. J will never push a horse that's fatigued, let alone a horse that doesn't seem well or even the tiniest bit off or sore. I wouldn't even have saddled him up if it was anyone but J.

Still, his legs were cool if puffy, and when I took him for a little walk before the lesson he was chirpy and eager to go forward. We came into the arena and did a ton of lateral work in the walk, changing it up: either going down the long side and transitioning from shoulder-in to renvers (or shoulder-out to travers) repeatedly, or coming out of the corner in half-pass, down the quarter line in shoulder-in, back to half-pass to the centreline, down the centerline in shoulder-in, transition to renvers, large half-pirouette to the track, repeat. This latter worked really well to keep him balanced and supple and not allow him to brace. We picked up the trot and Lancey coughed twice more and then moved boldly forward with no hint of unhappiness, and by this time his legs were dry and tight, so we went to work. I'm pretty sure he was just a bit allergic to all the flowers we played in the day before, but he's got the weekend off and we're keeping a good eye on him.

okay here's one more - by Erin Vogler Photography

Right from the start, J wanted me to do the opposite with Lancey. Where I needed to leave Thunder alone more, I needed to ride every stride on Lancey more. We started with a ton of shoulder-in in trot, J encouraging me to really focus on connecting constantly to both reins and using repeated light aids to remind him of his position and be compassionately uncompromising about what I wanted. Consistency was the theme.

Once he was nice and warm, we played with some half-steps, too. They don't come quite as naturally to Lancey as to Thunder, and I had my work cut out for me keeping him steady, soft and straight in the bridle. Still, when we did get three nice steps, they were powerful and expressive and he got plenty of praise and treats. That seemed to make the penny drop for him, and they got better after that.

Finally, we went on to some canter work, just going round on a circle, and for some reason I was just... failing at riding a connection. At all. J reminded me constantly to keep his neck straight and to ride him strongly from inside leg to outside rein for balance and connection. Lancey loves to fight my hand, but the thing is that sometimes he's not actually fighting my hand, he's fighting my leg. He will go around very sweetly in a working frame in working gaits, but works hard to wriggle out of connection when I ask for the collected gaits. Still, once "Mother has her brain switched on" (in the words of an exasperated J), he gave me some really, really solid work.

Friday afternoon was Arwen's jumping lesson, so I spent her usual riding time hanging out with Skye instead. Skye was always a pretty standoffish mare - she'd come to me if I called, but she wasn't one for grooming or fussing. She'd had a difficult past before my parents bought her when I was a little kid, and some of that wariness stayed with her even when we were still riding.

Something's changed in the past year or so, though. Skye's become cuddly. She's always in the middle of whatever we're doing, nuzzling the lesson kids, lining up in front of the tack room with the schoolies like she wants to be involved. She even tried to get into the horsebox when we took Spirit to SANESA two weekends ago. I'm just so happy that I can groom and fuss and play with her without imposing on her, and I spent a long time grooming and cuddling and feeding her treats on Friday, especially because it was her Gotcha Day (or maybe my Gotcha Day; I'm not sure). I was seven when my parents bought her for me, and that was nineteen years ago. A whole lifetime. My whole lifetime.

I'm so grateful that we've had this incredible journey together, Skye and I. The Lord has worked so mightily in this mare. She gave me wings when I was little, made my childhood absolutely magical, allowed the imagination that makes my living today to run unfettered. And when I was a teenager, she was instrumental in helping me find the One behind the magic I saw as a kid. Now somehow I'm a grown woman and she's still here, beautiful and kind, still the same mane to cry into, the mane that held my childhood dreams and my teenage secrets. That's something so special. Something rare and amazing.

She's doing so well physically, too. It's almost time for her routine autumn bloodwork but on the surface she looks great. Her weight is amazing, she gallops out of the night paddock in the morning and back into it in the evening, and she trots only about 1/5 lame, which is not bad when you're a 35-year-old horse. The old knees will never be young again but they don't appear to impede anything she wants to do - galloping up the hill or lying down to roll or just grazing in the field - and that's a gift.

Arwen rounded off the week by being super good for her kid, which she always is. This kid actually rides well even though she's quite small and Arwen has started to bend and connect a little bit for her. She jumps with great gusto, only little fences, but the cardio is good for Madam Lardy Dragon.

She's just really hairy right now and starting to suffer a bit since it's still hot and she always sweats like a pig. I'm going to need to try and run the clippers over her next week even though it's a little early in the year.

God is good 💜