Any time you get a new horse, you discover their little quirks. Some are common, some not so common, and sometimes they get you into trouble. V had plenty of them.
I discovered pretty quickly that he was a little questionable about tying. Unfortunately the barn where he lived had heavy chains for cross-ties and he decided to test them one day. I was halfway across the barn when it happened, and he actually went down in them and hung there until the crownpiece of his leather halter finally broke. I tied him with twine after that, if there were no safety snaps available.
There was also an area where you could straight-tie a horse to get him ready. Since it was a lesson barn, there was often a need to get several horses ready at once, so they tied them wherever they would fit. There was always a pile of hay available, and the horse's lead rope was looped and tied around a post. I left V there one day and went to get something from the tack room.
Child boarder: "Hey, your horse was loose. He was wandering around back here. I caught him and tied him back up."
Me (thinking I must not have tied the knot securely or something): "Oh! Sorry! Thank you!"
Several minutes go by, and I go back to the tack room to get something else. I come around the corner to find my horse wandering loose again, dragging his lead rope behind him. Apparently he kept untying himself and went looking for something more interesting to do. At this point one of the cross-ties had opened up so I stuck him in there instead. I found out later that he didn't straight-tie to the trailer either...but that reaction was slightly more violent.
He was great about baths (unlike my mare), having been on the track; and very little spooked him. The flip side of this was that he didn't stand still when mounted and would jig sideways next to you when you led him to turnout. He was also a cribber, but I don't think he'd ever worn a collar until I got him - we purchased one pretty quickly, and as long as it was properly adjusted it was very effective.
He was not much of a food horse when I got him. He was definitely thin and unfit when we brought him home, and the grain that they fed at the boarding barn was less than appetizing (not moldy or anything, just bland). The day that I saw him take three bites of his feed and then go stand in the corner, I realized we needed to change something. Knowing what I know now, there's a good probability that he had ulcers, but hindsight is 20/20 and if I saw the same thing today I'd be running to order GastroGard. Instead, I changed him to a feed that he couldn't resist (Omolene 200 and all of its molassesy goodness) and he started to eat like a champ.
I know there are more - but I've become so used to him and all his little habits that I can't think of any right now. Over time, he developed a bit of a "cold back"...but that's a story for another time...
Monday, July 2, 2012
Show =/= Race
The barn where V lived always had a dressage show on Memorial Day weekend, with classes ranging from Intro level (walk-trot) on up. I decided, possibly unwisely, that my green OTTB might be ready for such an activity. (Have I mentioned that, at this point in my riding career, I rode jumpers? And had never actually ridden a dressage test before? Meh...it's walk-trot.) Fortunately, I also realized that asking him to do a test which included canter might not be the best idea, and entered him in two Intro level classes.
Unfortunately this particular show is plagued by torrential rains every year, a fact that I was unaware of at the outset. Two of the dressage rings - including mine, of course - were located at the bottom of a rather large hill, in a grass arena. The footing was, shall we say...less than ideal.
He dealt relatively well with the chaos in the barn that morning. Our classes were at the start of the day, and there was a lot going on. I may have mentioned before that this was primarily a lesson barn, so there were a lot of children and teenagers running around trying to get ready...not exactly the most relaxing atmosphere. Still, he handled being braided with pretty good humor and soon we were ready to head down the hill and warm up.
I got on him at the top of the hill, as I had done before, and started to head down to the warmup area. By this point V had decided that all of the activity meant only one thing: he was going to RACE! Never mind that he was wearing a heavy saddle (and a heavy rider, in comparison to what he was used to)...and I'm pretty sure he never got braided for his races at Beulah Park. Still, all of those people and horses running around meant only one thing to him.
We jigged sideways down the hill to the warmup area. His front end felt decidedly light to me, and I seem to remember a couple of attempts at rearing, spinning and charging back up the hill. Eventually we made it to the warmup area in one piece, and since it was early in the day there were not many other horses there (thank GOD!) He was still very, very keyed up as we flailed around in the mud of the warmup area. I was sincerely hoping that he would steer well enough to make a 20 meter circle at the trot once we got in the little white arena.
Before I knew it, it was time for our test. We slithered into the ring, and around the arena until the bell rang. Heads high (which, if you don't already know, is desirable for the rider, but less so for the horse in this particular discipline), we began our test...and suddenly it CLICKED in his head, I could feel it.
WAIT....this isn't a RACE! This is the SAME THING we've been doing EVERY DAY in the SAME EXACT PLACE! All I have to do is trot around!
And lo and behold, he relaxed. The head came down (although the jaw was still pretty well locked up...but that was something that we would struggle with for years and years). The back relaxed, as much as it could in ankle-deep mud. We walked. We trotted. We circled, and we halted. We got perfectly respectable scores for a horse that had been in training for less than 2 months with a rider who knew next to nothing about dressage. Even better, we didn't die, and no spectators were harmed. We may have even gotten a ribbon - I don't remember, but if we did it's in my collection somewhere. And when we were done, we turned and WALKED up the hill.
He dealt relatively well with the chaos in the barn that morning. Our classes were at the start of the day, and there was a lot going on. I may have mentioned before that this was primarily a lesson barn, so there were a lot of children and teenagers running around trying to get ready...not exactly the most relaxing atmosphere. Still, he handled being braided with pretty good humor and soon we were ready to head down the hill and warm up.
I got on him at the top of the hill, as I had done before, and started to head down to the warmup area. By this point V had decided that all of the activity meant only one thing: he was going to RACE! Never mind that he was wearing a heavy saddle (and a heavy rider, in comparison to what he was used to)...and I'm pretty sure he never got braided for his races at Beulah Park. Still, all of those people and horses running around meant only one thing to him.
We jigged sideways down the hill to the warmup area. His front end felt decidedly light to me, and I seem to remember a couple of attempts at rearing, spinning and charging back up the hill. Eventually we made it to the warmup area in one piece, and since it was early in the day there were not many other horses there (thank GOD!) He was still very, very keyed up as we flailed around in the mud of the warmup area. I was sincerely hoping that he would steer well enough to make a 20 meter circle at the trot once we got in the little white arena.
Before I knew it, it was time for our test. We slithered into the ring, and around the arena until the bell rang. Heads high (which, if you don't already know, is desirable for the rider, but less so for the horse in this particular discipline), we began our test...and suddenly it CLICKED in his head, I could feel it.
WAIT....this isn't a RACE! This is the SAME THING we've been doing EVERY DAY in the SAME EXACT PLACE! All I have to do is trot around!
And lo and behold, he relaxed. The head came down (although the jaw was still pretty well locked up...but that was something that we would struggle with for years and years). The back relaxed, as much as it could in ankle-deep mud. We walked. We trotted. We circled, and we halted. We got perfectly respectable scores for a horse that had been in training for less than 2 months with a rider who knew next to nothing about dressage. Even better, we didn't die, and no spectators were harmed. We may have even gotten a ribbon - I don't remember, but if we did it's in my collection somewhere. And when we were done, we turned and WALKED up the hill.
Early Days
McVille wasn't always as calm as he'd been for that first ride - in fact, far from it. I quickly learned that his behavior on the longe line was NOT a barometer of how he would be under saddle that day (a fact that holds true to this day; rarely does he run or buck on the longe, and I usually end up getting more exercise than he does). As soon as I took him to the outdoor ring, I discovered just how nonexistent the steering was - while my other horse got angry if you rode with too much contact, I felt like I had to drag this horse around by the nose. His trot gradually developed more than one speed, although at first he used any attempt to slow him down as an excuse to stop completely. He hadn't raced in 4 months when I got him, and I suspect his fitness level was not what it should have been even then. For the first several months that I had him, we would work for fifteen minutes and he would decide he was done. I always made him do more, of course, before he was allowed to stop for real. After the ride I would put him back in his stall and he would lie down and take a nap.
I had him vetted, of course. I hadn't noticed any obvious soundness issues, but wanted to be sure. I was also a little concerned about those oozy lumps he had on his chest; I'd also noticed one in his ear, although it didn't look nearly as nasty. My vet did a standard pre-purchase exam, told me that she thought the masses were sarcoids and they might be difficult to get rid of, but they probably weren't a deal breaker. When she was palpating his legs I remember her saying, "This horse must not have run very hard!" In fact, when I brought him home he had one small scar near one knee, and absolutely no other blemishes on any of his legs. We took radiographs of both front feet just to be safe, and they were fairly unremarkable.
Over the next few weeks, I discovered the fun and athleticism of a young Thoroughbred. And by that, I mean: trying not to be run off with, attempting to turn right, occasional rearing, many fruitless tries to get the right lead...you get the picture. Although he wasn't the first OTTB I'd ridden, he was the first one that I'd gotten on right off the track, and while not that different from most of the green horses I'd ridden, there were definitely some habits that he'd acquired from being a racehorse. It was very difficult at first to get him to take his right lead, for example. I had to resort to extreme counterbending (not that he had any idea what "bending" actually was!) and even then we'd get it about half the time. He was also extremely stiff on the right side of his body, so turning right was a bit of a challenge sometimes. Still, he was clearly very athletic, and was learning a little bit every day.
I had him vetted, of course. I hadn't noticed any obvious soundness issues, but wanted to be sure. I was also a little concerned about those oozy lumps he had on his chest; I'd also noticed one in his ear, although it didn't look nearly as nasty. My vet did a standard pre-purchase exam, told me that she thought the masses were sarcoids and they might be difficult to get rid of, but they probably weren't a deal breaker. When she was palpating his legs I remember her saying, "This horse must not have run very hard!" In fact, when I brought him home he had one small scar near one knee, and absolutely no other blemishes on any of his legs. We took radiographs of both front feet just to be safe, and they were fairly unremarkable.
Over the next few weeks, I discovered the fun and athleticism of a young Thoroughbred. And by that, I mean: trying not to be run off with, attempting to turn right, occasional rearing, many fruitless tries to get the right lead...you get the picture. Although he wasn't the first OTTB I'd ridden, he was the first one that I'd gotten on right off the track, and while not that different from most of the green horses I'd ridden, there were definitely some habits that he'd acquired from being a racehorse. It was very difficult at first to get him to take his right lead, for example. I had to resort to extreme counterbending (not that he had any idea what "bending" actually was!) and even then we'd get it about half the time. He was also extremely stiff on the right side of his body, so turning right was a bit of a challenge sometimes. Still, he was clearly very athletic, and was learning a little bit every day.
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