Last weekend was my first horse-show.  I’m going to attempt to write a bit more about Amanda today, but I am my favorite topic.

Amanda rode in her first horse show since before she started vet school.  It’s been more than seven years since she rode under judgment.  Vet school, internship, private practice, and major injuries to Amanda and her horse, Nicky, have conspired to keep her out of the dressage arena until now.

Amanda and Nicky competed at the “first level,” which is really the second level since "training level" comes first.  Amanda’s goals were achievable (don’t fall off the horse) but her hopes were high.  Her scores came in just over 50% in a discipline where 60% is considered very good.  She was happy with the scores and most of the areas where she could use improvement involve things she already knew she had a problem with.

Nicky and Dove seem to be kindred spirits.  Both are physically gifted animals with independent streaks and brains.  While those calm and reliable horses make perfect mounts for the training levels, and even level one, they tend to lack the fire-in-the-belly that it takes to get to the highest level of training.  Some of the Grand-Prix horses I saw were on the edge of being out of control.  I smiled as I pondered the parallels to performance dogs.

Horse shows and hunt tests are incredibly similar.  Volunteers put in long hours.  There was obviously months of planning to put on this event, plus scores of labor hours before, during and after the event.  All so folks could pay their entry fee, show up, and have a good time.  Everyone at UNH should be happy about the show.  To me, the novice attendee, everything was crisp and well-run. 

I’m so proud of Amanda for committing to this test, using it as a motivator to take her training to a higher level, bringing Nicky to high levels of training, and then participating.  Most folks never get beyond the training level (another parallel to NAVHDA, where most folks never make it past Natural Ability).

OK, time to talk about my experience.  I’m going to take some dramatic license and put two days of showing and three events into one, shuffled together chronologically.

After about four hours of sleep, the alarm clock goes off at 4:00 in-the-morning.  I didn’t know they MADE a four-in-the-morning, and if I had known, I would have elected to approach it by staying up, not waking up.  No time for the shit/shower/shave routine.  Brush the teeth (while Amanda, bless her heart, struggles with five dogs), put on clothes (having difficulty remembering the order of things, shorts or underwear first?), and jump in the truck to make it to the Cedar Hill Farm by about five-in-the-morning.

Nicky has to be cleaned and “bubble-wrapped” for transport.  So Amanda sets to work scrubbing off dookey and grass stains and applying the wrappings while I start my role as groom-in-training.  I get to fetch stuff and hold stuff.  It’s actually pretty fun.  I mean it beats the heck out of watching her do everything, and also beat the heck out of doing actual every-day chores at a horse farm.

Anyway, we bubble-wrap Nicky and load him on the trailer.  We have to leave the farm by six-in-the-morning (still a half-hour before I usually start hitting the snooze button).

The trip to UNH from that part of Maine is over land (back roads and some state highways, but not the ease of expressway travel).  On Sunday, we’d refined the routine and took coffee orders by phone from the folks in the farm truck before passing the last Dunkin Donuts.  

Once at UNH, there’s the matter of staking out some territory for the horse trailers and horses.  We used my truck to some advantage to stake out home base.

My first lesson was how to hold Nicky still.  Imagine having a 1300 pound dog on a leash.  OK, this is the same.  The horse’s compliance is 98% voluntary, but you can do some things to get his attention.  Let’s face it, if he wanted to take off, there’s nothing I could do to physically force him to stay.  I don’t weigh enough to make the physics work out.

I was pretty bad at this at first, but like heeling a dog, you kind of learn to anticipate bad behavior and nip it before the feet start wandering.  Horses are social pack animals just like dogs and they too seem to appreciate direction from Alpha.  By Sunday, I was taking off the wraps, which involves bending low near the horse’s feet.  It took a little courage for me to do this.

After unwrapping, it was time to “tack-up” Nicky.  I’m not yet a tacker-upper, but I got the routine down pretty well.  It was important to get a second, though less secure, handle on Nick while Amanda swapped the halter for the bridle.  It occurred to me that this secondary handle (reins and halter rope around the neck) was no good if there was real trouble.  So keeping up dominance and timing the swap was important.

With the riding tack in place, extra training tack was added.  This simulates the rider’s reins so the horse can be worked from the ground instead of mounted.  I think this is helpful for getting a certain handle on the horse’s mood.  I thought of how NAVHDA handlers heel their dogs and do basic retrieves prior to testing to tighten up their control.

After lunging, we head to the warm up area.  I have a bucket of stuff – I don’t know what exactly, but like horsy Windex – and some towels and water.  I also have in my charge the fancy (and clean) jacket and pristine white gloves.  One of my jobs is to keep these fancy and clean (not exactly my strong suit) while also managing filthy dirty things like horse booties.

After warm-up there’s a bit-check.  I don’t have much to do, except make sure Amanda gets her whip back.  Then she changes into her nice gloves and puts on the jacket.  I have to remind her about the order of things here to maximize clean and then scrub any ick off Amanda’s boots and Nicky.  Amanda gets some water and a peppermint candy here; Nicky just the peppermint.  At this point the only thing left for me is some encouraging words and to watch.  The sun is already blazing down and the temperature and humidity boarder on oppressive.

The dressage test at this level is a routine that takes about eight minutes.  Horse and rider go through a variety of maneuvers at the same time maintaining the proper gate for that part of the test.  They might, for instance, have to do a clock-wise circle at a trot, then later in the test (probably better to call it a show, but dog lingo creeps in) they might do the same thing at a canter. 

The whole thing is supposed to look like the horse just knows what to do; none of the kicking and reining you see in cowboy movies.  She controls a 1300 pound horse by how she positions her butt cheeks in the saddle and the like.  Actually tells him how high and fast to lift his feet.  They don’t call it butt cheeks either; they say something like the “left seat bone” moving “forward in the saddle.”  I don’t know what that means but I do know my ass covers my “seat bone.”

I’m pretty sure since Nicky takes the position of your ass in his saddle, along with the pressure you apply with your legs and whatever, as commands, I couldn’t ride him.  Whatever commands I was trying to give with my butt, they’d probably just be “heard” as “rear and buck until this idiot falls off your back.”

I don’t know what I was supposed to be looking at.  The difference between a trot and a canter is becoming more apparent to me, but knowing that she’s doing one instead of the other is not so clear.  I could tell when Amanda looked uncomfortable in the saddle, hands moving and not fluid.  I figure that’s probably a reaction to Nicky doing other than what he’s told.

The rides went smoothly enough.  Amanda looked more comfortable than some, less than others, and it seems a good enough indicator of success as she finished in the middle of the pack.

Then back to the trailer to wait in the sun for the next ride, hers or another student’s from the farm.  The trip back involved rewrapping, trailering and driving back to Maine.

I don’t know what the cost would be to stable over-night on site, but I think I’ll offer to pay it next time, and for a room for us.  The extra travel time could have been spent sleeping.

Amanda said I was an A+ groom.  I certainly got better over the weekend, but I’d say I’m a solid C.  She got to the ring on time, with the right equipment and did not have to worry about anything but her test.  To me, this is the minimum standard of what I should be able to do.

I’d like to learn to tack up the horse, anticipate her needs better, and scrub, clean and groom, including braiding.  I’m fairly certain that these are some of the things Amanda finds rewarding in horse showing, and I wouldn’t want to take them away.  However, it would be nice to be able to fix problems as they came up.  I enjoy being useful, and having a few responsibilities was rewarding.

Overall, it was a good time.  Horse showing is very much like hunt testing and the new experiences were a lot of fun.