That's right. I rode my horse.
Earlier in the week I got on a couple times after some serious lunging and we moseyed around the indoor on a loose rein. Cara acted like we hadn't missed a day of riding, let alone 7 months. She jigged away from the mounting block as soon as I had a foot in the stirrup (I really should get on fixing that) and continued to test me throughout, forcing me to get out of lazy moseying mode. Despite the fact that we are currently condemned to just walking, I'm quickly remembering how much the mare has to be occupied, otherwise she will occupy herself. Thankfully, when I picked up the reins she came onto the bit and held a light, steady contact. Despite not having the same muscle tone as last year, she feels strong and bold, and she seems very comfortable relaxing over her back. The fact that the mare feels so good is a major victory, but absolutely nothing feels as sweet as being able to ride again, for both of us.
Today I thought we'd haul our walking party outside. We made our way past some very adorable, but very scary demon calves (apparently babies of all shapes and sizes are frightening) and headed to one of the back fields. The field itself has nice even footing since it's rarely used for anything (it has a gravel pit in the far corner) and contains some baby hills. We came out with the plan of attacking the hills at a seriously intimidating walk to help rebuild some sexy bum muscles. Cara switched into adventure mode and powered up the ol' Oprah Winfrey power walk. She looked fierce, while I sat there looking like a couch potato, wishing I had my leg muscles back. After one lap of the field Cara got her jog on, which quickly morphed into pre-race prancing. I think she was showing support for all her TB buddies running in the Preakness. Of course, the real culprit is the TB "field time = fun time = run time" gene that rears its head in any open space. As a result we broke a few rehabbing rules, despite my best efforts to rein the mare in. In the end, Cara ended up making awkward impressions of other animals while I tried to channel a peaceful calm in order to avoid a rocket launch.
|A prancing doe.|
Eventually we returned to the ring to simmer her brain. It's funny how fencing and walls make her automatically resume her regularly (or irregularly, in our case) scheduled work behaviour. Cara proved that she's still got it, and put in some nice shoulders in/haunches in and some leg yielding AND she did it without trying to kill the other mares in the ring. Miraculous, i'd say. A genuinely good day.
Gosh I've missed this.