Week three of The Owls Approve Blog Hop!
Let’s talk about the biggest achievements your horse has accomplished. I’m not talking about you as a rider – I want to know what your ponykins has done to make you proud. Is there a glorious satin collection, did he/she figure out some dressage movement that took months to learn, or are is it just a great day when your butt stays in the saddle?
The one thing Murray has done to make me proud this year is prove them all wrong. (I’m not exactly sure who “they” are in this scenario — just hear me out.) Murray has turned into a good horse. I mean wtf — from this little monster on the track to a little monster at our barn to this — a good horse.
I did not ever think I would own a good horse. I guess I do.
This was de rigeur for Murray in the past: “you want me to turn? What turn? Nope, not turning. I completely disagree with you. We shall not turn. Also, if anyone in this warm up so much as passes me at a speed higher than a walk I am going to back my ass all the way back to my trailer.”
These days it’s more like “turn? Sure thing! Oh and you want to crookedly point me at that jump and bury me to it and yank on my mouth at the same time? No big, I’ve got this, you puny humanoid.”
This horse, who failed so hard at racing, has a wicked gallop. He attacks obstacles on cross country. He jumps 3’3″. He overjumps 2’3″! He can dressage, passably. He can have his girth put on with minor complaint and minimal bribery. He walk, trot, canters without bucking. He does trot poles — trot poles! poles on the ground that once he would have cast himself upon the floor in a fit of desperation and ridiculousness about — like six of them, at a time! Sometimes even raised ones! He does lateral work, is bendy as a noodle in all the good ways, and has even started to lift through his withers. This horse, who I seriously did not think would make it through five, is staring six in the face and daring it to come at him, bro.
What did Murray do to make me so proud of him this year? He proved me wrong. Whatever niggling, whispering part of my mind thought maybe he couldn’t do it, that he wouldn’t do it, that I would ride Bad Horse Thoroughbred of Sin forever was completely, utterly, and entirely wrong. And you know what? I love it.