Trainer mentioned during the long, sad drive home Friday that her prelim horse was back home with her and she was meeting up with Bette at a hunter Pace Sunday. She invited me to tag along.
I then spent all of Saturday in a major funk. Losing A was depressing to say the least. Sunday morning I woke up determined to no longer be sad, so I took her up on her invite and loaded my very fat, nearly pregnant looking mare in the trailer to out run my sorrows.
The ride didn’t disappoint. The company was fantastic, the horses all paced well together and the trails were gorgeous. Horse therapy wins again.
It was great to not only get Gem back to her roots, but to share that with Trainer and Bette. Trainer has only seen the frustrated side of Gem and it was really nice to show her off in her element. It gave Trainer a whole new opinion of her.
It also showed me just how much Gem loves the trail and how much she hates jumping. We’ve spent the last 14 months working solely on jumping and she still balked at every stick across the trail. Gem doesn’t like this new gig. It isn’t fair for me to keep asking it of her.
After I got home with her and saw her happily canter off in the pasture with Pete and roll, I knew I couldn’t ask her to continue to do this. No more lessons. No more cross country schools. No more jumper shows.
I’ll continue to ride her at home in the arena just for fun and to keep her in shape and that may include a few small jumps here and there but there won’t be any more jumping exercises or attempts to force her into a role she doesn’t want to fill. More paces are in our future. More time spent back on the trail.
I still want to learn to jump. I still want to go cross country. My hunt for a partner that will enjoy these activities continues although I feel a bit jaded. There is a new horse to try this week if the rain stops. He sounds promising and if he doesn’t work, well I’m sure at some point another will pop up. Some day I’ll find my new partner.
In the meantime, my current partner won’t be asked to do work she despises. We will return to our roots and have fun with friends on trail. It would be nice if at 20 years of age she could maybe perhaps start listening to my input especially at the canter instead of going off where ever she pleases. I doubt that will ever happen. She thinks I’m useless. Who needs power steering anyway?