Fresh Starts aren't Always Fresh

           I know the term 'Fresh Start' is supposed to mean a new beginning or a second chance. Fresh and new like clean laundry right outta the dryer ready to get dirtied yet again. There's just something about putting on those clean clothes that makes you feel ready to attack the day with a fresh slate. However, my fresh start was not regarding laundry, but instead learning to enjoy horse shows again without my old reliable. I will admit it was hard to get excited about even going last week when my original ride hurt itself. Horses' ability to hurt themselves just purely by existing is the bane of every horse owner's existence. So there I was, ready to go to a show without a horse. Luckily Ocho was available in the wings and ready to fill in. So once again, I revved myself up and told my anxious little brain that it would be fun no matter what horse I took.

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It's not that I don't love showing horses because by God I do. It's in my blood. But without taking the horse you were expecting to, it really throws you for a loop. I'm still admittedly depressed about not having Reddin to soar around prelims with and conquer all the big jumps with. I know he passed almost 9  months ago but dammit we had plans. So here I was, salty, about going a lower level with a different horse than I expected. I was determined to make the best of it however and assume that God had a plan for me whether I agreed with it or not.

Once I got to the show, I remembered the giddiness of seeing people I hadn't seen since last season. Last year's gangly baby horses were now thriving adult horses and the once green riders now had many shows under their belts. The crackle of excitement could almost tangibly be felt in the air. Ocho certainly felt it as he threw quite a few bucks throughout the weekend. He earned himself the name the 'Flying Taco' at one point. Getting the stall set just the way I like it with the tack trunk and Sundance Farm banner hung made us feel ready to get this show on the road. I didn't sleep well that first night since it hammered down rain all night but I remedied that in the morning with a healthy portion of coffee. 

The dressage was dressaged and I was reminded of why I don't depend on young horses to perform in tests in the beginnings of their career. Except this should have been old hat for him. Ocho apparently forgot he had the ability to do any other gait than trot or a western jog. While he seemed pleased with his choices, I was seething. He taught me that I must go directly in the show ring after warming up because he is incapable to going to work a good test after a small break. What a turd nugget. We were holding up the bottom of the group after dressage and Ali was not happy about it. I vowed that Ocho would be receiving an education on cross country the next day. 

Mother nature had a few tricks up her sleeve all weekend. I got absolutely dumped on by rain walking my course. My rain coat needed a rain coat. The kind of rain that hangs in the air for hours threatening and just when you assume that it won't actually rain, she laughs and lets loose. All I could do was trudge along and curse my misfortune as I wandered fence to fence. I was soggy and annoyed but felt like the course had potential for a good time. I planned out all the spots that I would need to remind Ocho about half halts or evangelize him and introduce him to our Lord and Savior. Tomorrow was going to be an adventure.

And so cross country day came. I picked out rather small studs for him so that when he maybe he thought he shouldn't jump something, he would slide a bit and have to jump anyway. What a crock of shit all my plans were. He got into warm up and loped around as if he does this every weekend. An absolute dream boat. I had so much fun going around novice. He only ran off with me once on course in the water of all places. We also had the pleasure of crashing up an up bank. As much as I tried to prepare the over confident fool for the bank, he went full throttle for it and boy did he learn a lesson. I saw it coming so I sat back and let Jesus take the reins. We smashed into the dirt on the top of the bank and army crawled on his knees for a stride or so. Time stood still and I wasn't sure if was going to pile drive into the dirt or if would manage to find his feet. SOMEHOW after which felt like eternity, he found his feet. We pole bended our way through some pine trees and brush busted our way back to our original intended path just in time for our next fence. I swear I heard Ocho say "Nailed it!!" No sir, we nearly perished due to your choices. But sure, you're the man.

Surprisingly after the marathon that was cross country, we somehow moved up to the middle of the pack and it was just up to us to keep it together on stadium and not fall down like the day before. I honestly was so elated about his maturity in the electric arena. We toe touched one freaking rail and down she went along with our chances at a ribbon. Just one little boop was all it took. I really hoped we could take a ribbon home for his owner but it wasn't in the cards this time around. We had some laughs though when he deer jumped some fences which always make the rider real happy. What a wierdo. 

I think the real highlight of the weekend was finding my joy for the game again. I feel motivated to get my young horses going and get to more shows. I'm excited to see what skills they have. All the laughs and margaritas that come with shows along with all the folks is really what makes the experience. Well that and a chestnut that we affectionately call Taco instead of Ocho-who makes some questionable decisions out on cross country. But that big shiny buffalo made me so happy with his dopey idiosyncrasies and quirks. He gave me my much needed fire under my ass to get going and my sort of fresh start. This weeble wobbled, but she didn't fall down. She just had to army crawl her way out of a dark place.