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.