heartbreak on horseback

when the ponies say no

My guts sunk. It happened again. This time, the sinking feeling wasn’t something going wrong for me. This time I was watching someone else.

We were at the horse show. The bleachers in the old hockey rink were gritty. Sand seems to track everywhere. We were nested in it.

One by one the riders took their turns, guiding ponies and horses around courses. First we watched the hunters jumping with style and grace. Next came the jumpers hammering their way through their trials.

Autumn was struggling. Last year, the horse she was on was not the sharpest knife in the drawer and would refuse to go. She went to several shows, returning home disappointed after all but one. This year, she had a new steed. This year everyone was excited with her, hoping things would be different.

This year though, she was jumping higher than she ever jumped before. Her pony, Georgie, was a legend. He’s a chestnut with a mane that looks like a forest fire. I love imitating his voice. To me, he sounds like a daemon, a hell spawn. To me his voice is the voice of chaos and destruction.

When it comes to ponies I get both absurd and excited.

Autumn and Georgie didn’t have the best of time at this show either. Georgie refused to go. Several of her courses, Autumn asked Georgie to go. He’d cantor along purposefully. At the jump though, he planted his feet, skidding to a halt. He just wasn’t having it.

Though a young woman in her mid teens, Autumn was classy and kind. Instead of cropping her pony and letting him know he was bad, she patted him sadly on the neck with a kind of loving resignation.

Next to watching someone fall off, there’s nothing worse than seeing a horse refuse a jump. The whole arena feels it. The wind leaves the room. Ghosts howl. Time stops. Lessons are learned. And?

Screw learning.

Screw disappointment.

Screw learning the hard way.

Watching horses refuse any rider, I feel disappointed whether I know horse and rider or not.

On the second day of competing I finally had a chance to watch show jumping. Show jumping is electrifying. The rules are simple: Go as fast as you can and don’t knock anything over or fall off. The horses can be rowdy. The riding is energetic and explosive.

Though I’ve led Ms. Roosevelt from her paddock to the barn, I’d never seen her jump. Sure, I’ve watched her under the steady control of Dorthy her owner. Mr. Roosevelt has such a lovely, bouncy, contained trot. She has a wonderful to witness cantor. I was operating under the false assumption that this massive mare was a bit of a lap dog.

Oh how wrong I was.

You’ve never seen Dot jump Ms. Roosevelt? She’s a fire breathing dragon of a horse! That was somewhat believable after the encounter Ms. Roosevelt and I had with the haylage. I was excited to finally see what all the fuss was about.

When Ms Roosevelt and Dorthy entered the ring my heart almost stopped. Ms. Roosevelt was stepping large. Her body was like a massive coiled spring fully compressed and ready to explode. Oh boy, I thought, this is going to be interesting.

The bell went off signaling the beginning of the round. Ms. Roosevelt bounced forward. Dorthy kept her collected and contained as best she could. The pair went from walk to cantor. Ms. Roosevelt frothed and snorted. Dorthy give her a little leg. Ms. Roosevelt exploded forward.

Before each jump, Dorthy had to pull back hard on the reins - so much so she would have stopped most ordinary horses dead in their tracks. This was a mere annoyance to the massive Ms. Roosevelt. She wanted none of it. She wanted to gallop. She wanted to fly. Dorthy needed to be more than just along for the ride.

Luckily, at each jump, Dorthy’s mastery and connection to Ms. Roosevelt was clear. She steadied her steed coming into the jump. At the jump, she pressed on the gas by ‘giving a bit of leg’ to Ms Roosevelt. Ms. Roosevelt responded by exploding forward.

I was gaping. Looking around the arena, I could have collected hundreds of jaws from the floor, such was the wonder we were gifted the opportunity to behold. I had never before seen such surging power. I had never before seen a team move with such explosive precision.

Dorthy and Ms. Roosevelt were majestic. They worked incredibly together. It felt like an honor watching them work. In the end, the duo won second prize. All of us from the barn shouted and cheered, thrilled that one of ours had been so amazing.

After the ride, Isabelle, the barn owner and Dorthy’s coach remarked: Dorthy and Ms. Roosevelt really needed that

I didn’t get it. What do you mean?

They’ve been working together for five or six years now. Each year something goes wrong. Each year it seemed Dorthy would leave one of these things disappointed.

Apparently Dorthy and Ms. Roosevelt have experienced their fair share of falls, avoidances and refusals.

This made me admire the skills, effort, resilience and ridiculous devotion of these riders even more. The women at our barn are incredible. They work and work and work with their horse and coach going through almost countless falls, refusals and disappointments. Eventually though, with persistence, things come together.

Later, I asked our coach Pam: What possesses someone to keep going, to keep at it after struggling so long?

She looked at me like I was an idiot. Which is the look I deserved really…

You mean to tell me you haven’t figured this out yet Mr. Dalling?

I just stood there looking supider.

Love. They love their horses. They love riding. Love sure goes a long way to overcoming disappointment.

I though back to Autumn and her ride on Georgie. I felt less sad, less disappointed.

It’s all part of the process I guess.

And when you love the process, it’s a lot easier to hang in with the learning until things come together and you achieve some of the results you’re seeking.