Lame
There are many things in the horse world that correlate to love and dating.
Don't fall in love too fast.
Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
Relationships take time and effort.
And with horses, just like with people, be careful who you fall in love with.
Ducky. OTTB. Grey. 6 year old Gelding. 16.1 hands. And I thought I was falling in love. He was trained, so I had been told. He had been turned out to pasture for the past 2 years. Previously to that, he was mostly ridden by jockeys. The only physical flaw of his, the reason he never made it on the track, are his coon feet. His back pasterns drop a little low. They don't bother him. He's just not cut out for heavy work or intense athletic sports. But for flat work, he's sound.
The first day I rode him, one of the other girls said " Are you riding Ducky? I thought he was lame." To which my witty response was, "You're lame."
He's easy to catch. He's sweet. He would nuzzle my hands. He would come running to me from the back of the pasture. I thought that we were friends. The first few times I rode him, he wasn't incredibly responsive to hand cues. He struggled to stay on the rail. I rode with a crop frequently, resting it against his inside shoulder, he seemed to understand it. It was just a simple trick that kept him on the rail. As we kept practicing, he kept improving. Every day, he got better.
And then one day it all fell apart. He started crow hopping. I stayed on and rode through it. I got him back to himself. Then a few days later, he reared. I wasn't having that.
I went back to basics with him. Riding in small circles. Only walking and trotting. Lots of ground work. He seemed better. But it happened again. More violently than the first time. When he reared, I was terrified. I immediately dismounted. I'm not even sure all four of his feet were on the ground when I got off, I just needed to get down. Another girl tried to ride him, to see if he would rear with her too. And he did. She stayed on him and tried to ride it out. She turned him in tight small circles. And he ended up bucking her off anyways. And then he tried to bite her. And it blew my mind, how different he seemed to have become overnight. He got checked over by the vet, the dentist, and the farrier. He got a perfect bill of health. I swapped out the tack. The rearing continued. Daylight Savings time came. I ran out of daylight. I ran out of ideas. I turned him back out to pasture.
We still do ground work. But I haven't put a saddle back on him. He's not my horse. So he's not my problem, at least that's what my father keeps telling me. But I just feel like I can't give up on him that easily. Right now, I'm out of ideas. And I'm out of practice. As a teenager, I would willing hop on nearly any horse you put in front of me. But now, I don’t bounce like I used to. It hurts to fall. And I'm just not as fearless as I once was. And sometimes, I just don't feel as smart. And I blame myself. If only I hadn’t quit riding. Maybe I'd still have the skill level to help Ducky. But I did quit. And I don't know how to help him. But I keep trying. That's all I can do. Because he's not my horse. And in the meantime, he has a good life. He's young. Maybe I'll figure it out one of these days. Or maybe he'll always be my unrequited love.
Don't fall in love too fast.
Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
Relationships take time and effort.
And with horses, just like with people, be careful who you fall in love with.
Ducky. OTTB. Grey. 6 year old Gelding. 16.1 hands. And I thought I was falling in love. He was trained, so I had been told. He had been turned out to pasture for the past 2 years. Previously to that, he was mostly ridden by jockeys. The only physical flaw of his, the reason he never made it on the track, are his coon feet. His back pasterns drop a little low. They don't bother him. He's just not cut out for heavy work or intense athletic sports. But for flat work, he's sound.
The first day I rode him, one of the other girls said " Are you riding Ducky? I thought he was lame." To which my witty response was, "You're lame."
He's easy to catch. He's sweet. He would nuzzle my hands. He would come running to me from the back of the pasture. I thought that we were friends. The first few times I rode him, he wasn't incredibly responsive to hand cues. He struggled to stay on the rail. I rode with a crop frequently, resting it against his inside shoulder, he seemed to understand it. It was just a simple trick that kept him on the rail. As we kept practicing, he kept improving. Every day, he got better.
And then one day it all fell apart. He started crow hopping. I stayed on and rode through it. I got him back to himself. Then a few days later, he reared. I wasn't having that.
I went back to basics with him. Riding in small circles. Only walking and trotting. Lots of ground work. He seemed better. But it happened again. More violently than the first time. When he reared, I was terrified. I immediately dismounted. I'm not even sure all four of his feet were on the ground when I got off, I just needed to get down. Another girl tried to ride him, to see if he would rear with her too. And he did. She stayed on him and tried to ride it out. She turned him in tight small circles. And he ended up bucking her off anyways. And then he tried to bite her. And it blew my mind, how different he seemed to have become overnight. He got checked over by the vet, the dentist, and the farrier. He got a perfect bill of health. I swapped out the tack. The rearing continued. Daylight Savings time came. I ran out of daylight. I ran out of ideas. I turned him back out to pasture.
We still do ground work. But I haven't put a saddle back on him. He's not my horse. So he's not my problem, at least that's what my father keeps telling me. But I just feel like I can't give up on him that easily. Right now, I'm out of ideas. And I'm out of practice. As a teenager, I would willing hop on nearly any horse you put in front of me. But now, I don’t bounce like I used to. It hurts to fall. And I'm just not as fearless as I once was. And sometimes, I just don't feel as smart. And I blame myself. If only I hadn’t quit riding. Maybe I'd still have the skill level to help Ducky. But I did quit. And I don't know how to help him. But I keep trying. That's all I can do. Because he's not my horse. And in the meantime, he has a good life. He's young. Maybe I'll figure it out one of these days. Or maybe he'll always be my unrequited love.
Ducky
Comments
Post a Comment