I had to write this while I was still giddy with excitement! I just got home from the barn and a lesson on Fantom. I feel tonight that I conquered two of my biggest hurdles for coming out at first level at the March show, one being one of my biggest fears–the canter lengthening. I know I have probably tried Jonni’s patience with what may seem an irrational fear to her. Last Saturday, she asked for a canter lengthening, and I said, “Oh, shit, Jonni,” a little louder than I should have. Would I say that to David, Jonni asked. I don’t know, maybe, sorta, maybe not like that. But it did make me reflect. I couldn’t push Fantom in the canter because I was so afraid he would sidestep, or bolt, and I would go flying off and my body would break in a million pieces again. Jonni said I couldn’t be afraid of something that hadn’t happened yet, and while Fantom has never given me any indication he would do such a thing, another horse did, and that scared me to death. It always seems that when I go through an issue with my riding, Jane Savoie posts an article about the very issue. Bless her! Jane is very much into facing and overcoming your fears on horseback. I could not let my fear defeat me–I’ve never let that happen before. One of my friends told me one time I was the strongest person she knew. Tonight I faced my fear and got right up in its face and said, “No more.” I let it go with the canter lengthening, and guess what? Fantom didn’t bolt, he didn’t sidestep, and I stayed on! It was a great moment! Jonni asked for another canter lengthening, and then another, and said she was going to bug me about these. Bring it on!
I am also learning to sit the trot better–moving my hips with Fantom’s motion. I’m sitting down in the saddle, and since my butt is not slamming down on his back, Fantom is giving his back much more. While my butt may not be bouncing, the girls are, but hey, that’s unavoidable. I’m very excited about the March show, and 2010 is looking very good in many ways!
January 28th, 2010
Just when Fantom was getting back in his groove after surgery to repair a double fracture of his right hind splint bone, he developed bilateral refractory ulcers of the eyes. We don’t know what caused the ulcers–there could be any number of causes. It just seems like it’s been forever that we’ve been treating his eyes. Many, many thanks to Dr. Kerby Weaver of Wilhite and Frees for the wonderful, compassionate care he has given Fantom. I think we have rounded the corner and are making one final charge to clear this stuff up. The really good news is that his eyesight is not affected. Poor dude, it has just not been his year. I’ve seen a lot of the vets at Wilhite and Frees this summer, and have an immense amount of respect for these guys–they conduct themselves with the utmost of integrity. I can’t imagine any of them ever giving a deliberate misdiagnosis of a horse–but then . . . what vet with any integrity would do something like that? None that I know.
Baby Boo is settling nicely into his new digs and is very happy with his in/out accomodations and his new pasture mate, Jade. I am happy to have him closer so I can visit much more often. He is such a sweet little boy and I am looking forward to watching him develop over the next few months.
Jonni is bumping up our training in preparation for coming out at first level next spring. Whew! The work is difficult, but I love the physical and mental challenge. Okay, okay, I’m super sore tonight–I’ll admit that. I’ll also admit that I am not totally physically prepared–who knew that sitting a trot was so . . . well, difficult. I need to build up my stamina because I can post the trot during warmup, but the rest of the ride is in a sitting trot. And trust me–even though there are bras advertised as bounce-free, nothing holds these babies in. I dream of a breast reduction.
I went to my first KU basketball game on Tuesday evening. Allen Field House did not tremble and shake when I walked in. I really had fun–the company was wonderful, and the whole place was rockin’. I might even be persuaded at some point in time to switch over to the dark side, that is, if I can find a KU shirt with sparkles.
Tomorrow night is sushi and Cosmos with my dear friend–it’s been a long time, and we have TONS to catch up on. I can’t wait.
November 13th, 2009
Fantom’s surgery yesterday went without incident. I was a nervous wreck leading up to yesterday, and I appreciate everybody’s patience with my up and down emotions. Jonni and I took him to MU on Wednesday–early, because Jonni had to get back and ride horses. I drove separately. We left at 6:00 a.m., and though our appointment was at 1:00, they were able to see Fantom right after rounds. He unloaded from the trailer rather exuberantly–that’s actually an understatement. Anne took the lead rope and led him in–he was weighed and then put in his assigned stall. HEAVEN! Thick, thick cedar shavings, still in a large pile in the middle of the stall. When we go to shows and the shavings are still in the plastic bags in the stall, Fantom likes to help me with the shavings by either standing on the bags, or doing his own Fantom job of spreading the shavings over the floor. He loves to do this. He immediately started helping Anne spread the cedar shavings. His stall was light, bright, he had hay, water, and he was a happy camper. He was assigned a team for his entire stay at MU–Dr. Reed, Dr. Keslar, and David, the vet school student from Tennessee who will graduate in January. David took his vitals, and then Fantom was led off for the ultrasound. One of our biggest concern was damage to the suspensory ligament. I didn’t understand at first–I thought the suspensory ligament might be damaged by the fracture. I found out that the concern was that the suspensory blew, and then that pressure caused the fracture. The preliminary exam by ultrasound looked good, but would have to be confirmed at surgery, and it turned out that his bone was fractured in two places. During the course of the ultrasound, I suddenly noticed that Fantom was . . . well, not being Fantom. He was quiet. Earlier, I heard someone ask Anne about whether or not he would stand still for the ultrasound, and she answered–”He’s really pushy.” No, that’s not right. He can actually be a P-I-G on the ground. I asked Anne whether she was working magic on my horse, or if they gave him something. Everybody laughed, and Dr. Reed said, “We saw how he unloaded from the trailer and gave him something to relax him.” Where was she with that magic syringe during the last four stress-filled weeks for me???? I left MU earlier than I thought, and sought the comfort of a late sushi lunch in Blue Springs.
I was back on the road to Columbia mid-morning on Thursday. They let me see Fantom right away, and the I.V. was already in. I stayed in the stall with him up until the time they came to get him for surgery, and he was following me around, wanting his ears rubbed, using me as a scratching post. Note to self–NEVER wear a light-colored shirt around horses. After the surgery before him left recovery, Dr. Keslar came to get Fantom. The next step was taking him into the induction room and administering anesthesia. I couldn’t watch that–they move the horses from the induction room to the surgical table by means of a hoist–the horses are lifted by the legs and moved by the hoist along a track. So, I had to leave for the waiting room until I was called back to watch the surgery. Dr. Keslar said when Fantom realized I was gone, he looked all around for me.
Seeing my horse on the surgery table was a big shock. I realized I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was, and also felt incredibly alone at that moment. I wished I had someone special in my life who could have comforted me and told me everything would be okay. I teared up when I saw Fantom–he was already hooked up to the ventilator to keep the gases flowing throughout his lungs. His leg was scrubbed for about 15 minutes–this was so much like a people hospital. The surgeons came in later after scrubbing up, and the incision was made. A student would come out every 10 minutes to give me an update. No suspensory damage was found–the larger bone was removed, and then the smaller floater, and then Dr. Keslar smoothed the end of the splint bone. They put the large bone in a glass vial for me so maybe I can make some jewelry–I don’t know. Just joking! I had to leave when they started bandaging him up–again, they had to hoist him up to move him to recovery. This was a long wait, and I wished desperately I had brought some trashy magazines to read. Judge Judy was on the TV that got horrible reception, so everybody kept cutting out. I meandered over to the bulletin board to see if there was anything interesting, looked at everything in the vending machine, found a receipt in my purse to read . . . Fantom had an uneventful recovery–the doctors were pleased, and finally he was back in his stall, shaky, lethargic, but he did perk up a bit at the sound of my voice. He should recover 100%.
I don’t know even how to begin to thank the staff at the MU equine clinic–for everything. Their kindness, compassion, their knowledge. Fantom was in the best hands possible–and he received the best care. BIG thank yous and hugs to my friends and family who emailed and texted me before, during and after the surgery. He should be able to come home on Saturday, and we will start rehabbing. I have my Budski back–he is quite a remarkable guy, both in personality and ability, but I can now stop stressing over him, and concentrate on some more positive aspects of my life.
July 3rd, 2009
Horses can hurt themselves in a padded stall–anyone who has owned a horse for any length of time can attest to that. I’ve seen my friends’ horses get hurt, and I’m always there for them with empathy, sympathy, and to commiserate on the unpredictability of the horse and the damned rotten timing of it all. Sometimes what an injury seems to be in the beginning is not what it really is. That’s what happened with my Fantom. It started with him being off in training. Really off. Quickly, Jonni got off of him, and we stripped the boots off to check his legs. Shit. How the hell did I miss that swelling in the right hind when I was tacking him up? It wasn’t just mild swelling–it was ugly swelling, and getting uglier by the minute. I cold hosed him and buted him, and hoped for the best in the morning. Morning came, and the leg was no better. We called the vet, and Fantom was diagnosed with cellulitis, which is a particularly nasty thing, sometimes hard to get rid of, and difficult to ascertain the cause. Fantom was started on antibiotics, bute continued, DMSO sweat wrap, cold hosing and ice. The wrap was to stay on for 48 hours, then if the leg looked good, we could start working him lightly. Everything went as planned, we even kept him on stall rest an extra day, and then we lightly worked him. The next day, his leg was swollen again. More calls to the vet, more antibiotics, more of the same routine. Everytime the wraps came off, the leg swelled. Another call to the vet–this time the big guns came out. Out came the digital x-ray machine to rule out soft tissue injury, and multiple views were taken of the affected leg. I was watching TV when the call came, and you know it’s never good when the vet starts out, “This is going to sound bad at first.” My heart stopped at that moment, and my eyes already started to fill up. Fantom, it seemed, had a fractured splint bone, self-inflicted, no doubt, as he is an inveterate stall kicker. He kicks at feeding time, he kicks when he is bored. He kicks hard. I knew this was a difficult call for the vet–I know him, and his wife and I are friends–and I know if he could give me any other news but this, he would. But, there is good news. Or at least, better news. It seems that the splint bone, especially in the lower, thinner, wispier part where Fantom’s fracture is located, is not a necessary bone. Even though it is not a necessary bone, it cannot heal on its own–it has to be removed surgically. I said, “Look, I’ve got a lot to absorb. I can’t make any decision tonight.” I thought of the show in Mason City that I was now forfeiting the entry fees, the hotel room, the hopes and dreams that I had for this year, the goals I wanted to accomplish. And suddenly, none of that was important anymore.
It dawned on me that this was as close to unconditional love as I’ve ever felt. I had that kind of love for my kids-I still do. Hopefully, one day, I will have it in a wonderful relationship. Everything in my life at this time revolves around this horse. How can I not love him–this horse that tucks his nose under my arm when he gets scolded, who nuzzles my hands and pockets for a peppermint wafer that he gets when my trainer is not watching, who is so happy to see me, and nickers at me when I drive up the driveway to the barn. A horse whose heart is as big as this universe, who tried so hard the day we lightly worked him, and I am wracked with guilt, and asking the what if, what if, what if questions that will never be answered. Even now, I as write this, I’m crying, because he is such a good boy and doesn’t deserve this.
The prognosis is actually good. The surgery is not an uncommon one and has a great success rate. He will be on stall rest for 2 weeks, and then 2 weeks of handwalking. If all goes well, he should be back to work in 2 months. He will be in good hands at MU (sorry to all my KU friends). He is in no pain at this time, and I can take him out to hand graze him, and it’s difficult to get him back to the barn because he’s so hungry for that green grass. I ask that all of you please keep Fantom in your thoughts and prayers, especially on Thursday, July 2.
June 20th, 2009
Or maybe not. I find this blog concept interesting. I know I’m certainly not breaking new ground here, but what is MY purpose for blogging? Even though I adamantly state I am not passive aggressive, I wonder if there is a certain amount of passive aggressiveness involved with blogging, or at least, my blogging. Do I post something that really irritates the stuffing out of me that I don’t want to confront somebody with and deal with the subsequent hassles? Or . . . is blogging actually a way of saving somebody from my Irish/German/Hungarian temper–that while it takes a long time to light the fuse, once it blows, it blows, and then it’s over, but it’s not pretty in the interim? I have two good friends who blog–I follow their blogs religiously and check every morning for new posts. I love the blind items they put in, because I know who they are talking about, and it is titillating and provides for hours of juicy gossip over sushi and Cosmos. I would never question anything they write in their blogs, I’m just trying to discover what works for me. I am certainly not going to question their blogs, because I literally missed by the skin of my teeth getting blogged about after my last dinner with a good friend–thank you KB for distracting her and getting her onto another subject! Maybe it’s a combination for me–a way to share everyday occurrences in the horse/dressage world, personal life, frustrations, dislikes, happy times, with a bit of Hollywood gossip column thrown in for good measure. Yeah, I like that.
May 10th, 2009
I was perusing my computer files this evening, and found a short essay I wrote in 2003. It was fun to read it again, and I hope you enjoy it, also.
I blame Walt Disney. Poor Walt. For years, we thought he was cryogenically preserved, but that turned out to be another one of those urban legends. It was The Miracle of the White Stallions that started all of this. The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh also contributed, but more to general horse interests. Christopher Syn rode a beautiful dappled-gray horse across the English marshes, and a younger Patrick McGoohan (who is on my list of the top five best looking men in the world) played Christopher Syn . . . but, I’m straying from my original subject. Yes, it was The Miracle of the White Stallions that gave me my first glimpse of dressage. It told the astonishing story of the Lipizzaner stallions of the Spanish Riding School, which isn’t actually in Spain, but Austria, but that’s another story. During World War II, a plea was made by the director of the Spanish Riding School to General George S. Patton, ol’ Blood and Guts himself, to save the Lipizzaners from the approaching German and Russian armies. Patton, an astute judge of stellar horseflesh, not only saved the Lipizzaners, but many Arabians from the Polish stud farms, including the famous Witez II, who holds a particular interest for me because a mare I owned as a teenager was bred to one of his last surviving sons in the United States. This is just skimming the surface of an incredible story.
Pas de deux. Passage. Caprioles. Courbettes. Levades. It was literally a horse ballet—graceful, synchronized, and beautiful—a classical equestrian art originally designed as evasive moves on the battlefield. How could horses make those movements seem so effortless? I devoured Marguerite Henry’s Album of Horses, with illustrations by Wesley Dennis. Dressage specifically gave way to a love of horses in general that has continued my entire life, but the images of the white stallions remained indelibly etched in my mind.
Fast forward 37 years.
I like telling people I have a dressage trainer. It makes me feel as though I have more experience than I actually have. It lends an air of authority to my words: “Yes, my trainer recommended this . . . my trainer told me . . .” People look at me with a new measure of respect in their eyes. “You have a trainer?” “Of course,” I reply. It’s not necessary to tell them I have been with my trainer for less than one month. Barbara is an incredibly good sport to put up with my idiosyncrasies. She thinks I went into dressage for the clothes. This is partially true. I dream of the day I can wear a shadbelly. I am very fashion conscious, but I also wanted the creative outlet. “You write,” I’m told. “That’s creative.” Writing is creative. But it’s what I do. Do? You know—it’s what I do everyday. One of my writer friends nods her head when I tell her this. “I know what you’re talking about. I take pottery lessons.” Her house is filled with beginning efforts that lean to one side. But to her, there is something deeply satisfying about throwing a lump of wet clay onto the potter’s wheel and molding with her hands an idea not completely formulated in her mind.
Still, there is a fine line of demarcation between what I do everyday and my chosen creative outlet. I can’t help but draw analogies between the two. This is intrinsic in my nature—the inability to completely let go of the work I do, which besides writing is the teaching of writing. I like to find parallels. The idea of comparative mythologies—the underlying similarities between religions and the ancients—fascinates me. Are there parallels between dressage and writing? I think so. At my only second dressage show in October, I realized the parallels as I stood with my future trainer. A horse can be beautiful, and execute a seemingly flawless performance in the ring, but there is something—that inexplicable something—that is missing. That something is oomph—naughtiness or cheekiness—that when properly constrained translates into sparkle in the show ring. In grading a freshman essay, I can have in front of me a paper that is close to technically flawless with no glaring grammatical or mechanical errors. We composition instructors all hope for that, but rarely is it given to us. Still, in looking at this essay that is free of grammatical and mechanical errors, there is something missing, something I can’t quite put my finger on, but I have to, because I am the instructor, and I have to justify a grade. That something lacking is voice and style—that indescribable something you recognize when you read it which separates an “A” paper from a “B” paper.
There is also the incessant process of revising and editing, both in dressage and writing. In dressage, the revision and editing process takes place in the form of training, and the persistent quest for perfection. Dressage people are happy with one or two good steps during a training session, in the hopes that those few steps will continue on to four or five good steps at some point in the future. So it is with writing. You have occasional flashes of brilliance from your students, something that indicates there is more there than meets the eye. As an instructor, you push, you coddle, and you cajole in an attempt to bring out more flashes of brilliance in your students’ writing. It is a continual progression for both students—horse and human.
May 1st, 2009
I tried to get into the William Woods show at Fulton for two years. Last year, my mare Kilian was due to foal around that time, and I had to scratch. I can’t remember why I didn’t show the year before–I’m lucky to remember what I had for breakfast this morning–though my memory can be somewhat selective by choice. This year, we were fortunate, and everybody who entered from our barn was able to show. What a fun show! Nice facility, and Karen Pautz is wonderful–I wish she could manage the Columbia show in July. The only drawback to the show was the unending wind, blowing dirt around. I had to rinse off my face several times each day, and everything in the tack stall was layered with gritty dirt. By the end of each day, I was tired, hungry, and stinky (and gritty).
Fantom settled right into his temporary digs, as he usually does. He was exceptionally good with schooling on Friday afternoon. Unusual–my trainer said–for Fantom to be quiet on Friday. Shhhh. Don’t jinx it! I was pleased with his schooling–he was on the aids, and listening to me. Trust me, this horse can blow through me without a second thought, so I was thrilled with his softness. Maybe I’m getting better at catching it. Our first class on Saturday night was training 1–a simple class–but I am still learning outside rein, and had him flexed too much to the inside. Sigh. It’s always good to read the judge’s comments, because you can change things for the next test. Training 4. I have my heart set on qualifying for Regional Championships in September, but Jonni told me not to go into a test with that idea in the back of my mind. Ride the test. Be in the present. I was very happy with the T4 test, and we did miss a qualifying score by a percentage point. That’s improvement-because these were tough judges, eh? (They were from Canada). I always sing to myself before a test–right before I go into the ring. It helps my nerves, and makes me breathe. I wonder if I sang O Canada as I went past the judges’ stand if that would have improved my scores? Probably not-not with my singing. We won reserve champion at training level that night–at only our second show! I was so proud of my boy.
Sunday was a mixed bag. I was already exhausted, and the other riders had family members to help them get ready for a test. Tired and hot is not good for me, and to be nagged about things when I am trying to handle everything on my own was getting me in a pissy mood. Note to all of you–if you are ever at a show with me–DO NOT ask me if I’m going to wash my horse, or if I’m going to do anything with my horse–ESPECIALLY if you are not helping me. As far as I’m concerned–it’s none of your f**ing business what I do with my horse. There. Training 4 on Sunday–I’m hot, cranky, pissy, handling things on my own, everybody else has their entourage. I finish my class, and nobody brought my little ringside bag over with a bottle of water. I totally overheated, felt sick, and at that moment, hated everybody in the world. Except my horse. It was not a good test, but it was a good lesson in how my emotions can affect me. I debated on whether or not I should scratch the T2 class, and also realized I should not have eaten that 7 layer bean dip earlier that I felt like puking up. Completely dehydrated. I drank bottle after bottle of water–rehydrated–saddled up Fantom one more time for T2. I can do this. We head over to the warm-up ring, and everybody is getting ready to go over to the arena to watch Molly’s class (this was her first show–more on that later). I walked Fantom around the arena, and suddenly realized we were alone in the warm-up. I loosened my shoulders and started to relax. Let’s go ahead and pick up the trot. It’s funny, from the first step, I knew this was going to be good. So Fantom and I were alone in the warm-up arena–I was relaxing and getting evil thoughts out of my mind–he was spot-on my aids. No other voices, no other horses–just us. 10 meter circles, 20 meter circles, trot canter, canter walk, halt, trot, counter flex, inside flex–no hesitation, no resistance. The atmosphere was almost surreal. It was good to have this alone time. He was completely on my outside rein. The test was phenomenal. I felt for the first time we were truly getting it together, and I felt so good about my riding and his performance. We scored a 65, with an 8 on our diagonal trot, 7s on gaits AND my riding! It’s amazing how much your mental outlook affects your performance.
Back to Molly. Molly is the daughter of new friends of mine who ride out of my barn. She’s 10, and rides Bella, a Georgian Grande mare. WW was Molly’s first show, and she had a terrible case of show nerves on Saturday before her Intro B class. Bella decided to exit the ring, and Molly was in tears, but was brave and went back in to finish her test. She had to do that on her own–we couldn’t do that for her. Sunday was a different judge and a different story. Intro B again, and again Bella exits the ring, but this time, the judge doesn’t allow Molly to finish the test. I have huge problems with this. It seems to me that the intent, or at least the implied intent, of USDF and USEF is to encourage young riders. A first show is a frightening experience—and even as adults, we have had situations where we didn’t want to go into the ring. Admit it–we’ve all been through that. For a 10-year old, it is terrifying, and then to be denied the right to finish a test–that is not good. I don’t know if Molly will ever show again–that is the most tragic part of this entire story.
One last note–I had no idea that blogs could attract spam. I was surprised when I logged in to update my blog that I had spam about penis extenders. My blog spam thing caught these errant comments, but I was a bit surprised.
And truly one last note–I am happy that tax season is over, and I am finally having sushi with my best sushi buddy tomorrow night. We have much to catch up on.
April 27th, 2009
Fantom
It took my getting fed up and mad to really start making progress with my riding. I love my horse. I really love my horse. All of my friends who listen to me tell them how wonderful Fantom is will tell you I love my horse. But you know, there came a time when I had to say, “Dude–I ask you for 1 stinkin’ hour each day. You can give me that.” Maybe it was a little trepidation on my part. I’m still nursing wounds from what I maintain was a sadistic trainer who delighted in making me feel like crap. But I’ve got to put that behind me because I am out of that situation. I am in a happy barn. Jonni, my trainer, kept telling me that I had to step up to the plate. Still, fear and trepidation on my part. We trained and trained for the KCDS March Kickoff show. I already knew Fantom would need lots of warmup time. The first class on Saturday went well, or so I thought–the test was accurate, but we weren’t forward enough. The second class is what prompted this post. Fantom, I discover, needs just as much warmup for the second class as he does for the first. And, if he was in a third class, he would need just as much warmup for that third class. He is like the Energizer bunny–he does not wear down. And that fact became painfully apparent to me when I entered the ring for Training 4 on Saturday, and I realized that I had a lot of horse, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that horse. Sarah Michael wanted forward? By golly, she got forward–LOL. Wait a minute–we’ve already had a one hour warmup and one class. Why isn’t the edge off this guy? Lessons learned. And the biggest lesson learned was I’m not going through THAT again. Up to that point, Fantom didn’t take me seriously. That second class on Saturday was actually the best thing that could have happened to both of us, because it completely changed my attitude. When we got home and started our schooling for William Woods, I was a different rider. And Fantom sensed the change in me. Sure, he still tried a couple of his old tricks after that, but I was no-nonsense, and suddenly, there was respect for me. And with that respect, what we were able to do in schooling, and what Jonni was now able to ask of us, was escalated. I didn’t ask anymore–I told Fantom what he was going to do and when he was going to do it. Suddenly, we have gone from 20 meter circles, to shoulder ins, renvers, haunches in, leg yields, counter canter, simple changes, trot lengthenings, and so much more. Each day brings more progress. Canter/walk transition must be made with no trotting steps. Walk/canter with no trot. A halt must be instant with no creeping forward, and he must stay on the bit. Fantom and I are truly partners now. He is still my Budski and gets treats when Jonni’s not looking, and lots of kisses and hugs. This is a horse that likes to work, but he needed to respect me and know in no uncertain terms that I meant business.
I am so excited about William Woods. I have never been to this show, but I hear it is a fun venue. We’re still showing at training level, though at home, we are beginning the steps of prepping for 1st level showing. My dream is to earn my USDF bronze medal. Jonni is pushing him on 3rd level stuff–he has incredible canter pirouettes. I could not have asked for a better horse for me. And all I can say is it’s about time!
April 3rd, 2009
Just when I was getting used to the warm weather. I do not do cold weather well. I admit it. I was spoiled. Now look what’s going on out there–nasty stuff. My trainer writes on Facebook that she LOVES snow. I wrote back “that’s crazy.” The weather needs to make up its mind that it will be warm and stay warm.
However, before the weather came out in full force, Fantom was visited this morning by the chiropractor/acupuncturist, Dr. Randy Huenenfeld, of Rolling Meadows Animal Hospital in Adrian, Missouri. I am a firm believer that horses need to be maintained with the same care and concern as humans. If there is something I can provide for Fantom that will make him more comfortable, put more spring in his step, get his giddy-up going a bit more, then I’m all for it. Dr. H. is working wonders with the eye of Lark, my barn friend Sheila’s Hanoverian mare, so I jumped at the chance for him to work wonders on my boy. The entire concept of acupuncture and chiropractic fascinates me. Bladder meridian–I’m not quite sure what that means, but I heard it alot today. And with chiropractic and acupuncture, the issues do not emanate from the direct spot. Dr. H. was working and manipulating Fantom’s left knee–it popped with an audible pop. That released his neck, Dr. H. explained. Something somewhere else released his hip. Putting in one needle in his rump created a strong reaction in Fantom–a couple of minutes later, wriggling the needles caused no reaction. The acupuncture released endorphins, and Fantom had lots of endorphins released this morning–he started to chew and lick, his eyes closed and his head drooped. Amazing! Dr. H. was pleased with the reaction. Fantom snoozed for awhile, and then suddenly woke up, and it was time to take the needles out. It will take 4-5 days for us to see the full benefit of this treatment. All the while, I was chit chatting with Dr. H–this will make my friends smile, as they know how shy and retiring I am.
It’s been an interesting winter. Barn gossip is rampant. The usual switching trainers, the selling and buying of horses, who passed what test and who didn’t. Interestingly enough, talk of affairs in KC dressage world is not prevalent. I don’t know why that is–to me, that would be far more interesting talk than what I do hear. You learn who your friends are. You learn which veterinarians you would use, and which ones you wouldn’t send your dog to, and which licenses you’d love to yank if you could.
I am thankful for my barn and trainer. It is a barn of little or no drama, and I credit my trainer, Jonni Adams-Allen, for that. I have never heard her make a derogatory comment about anybody. Trust me, I have been in a snake-pit of a barn, and I don’t want to ever return to a situation like that. We had our barn Christmas dinner–not planned by me. I wanted us all to take pole-dancing lessons–and that idea was quickly vetoed–and it appears that my input will not be asked for again regarding the planning of barn activities. I like my circle of dressage friends. I have hand-picked each one, and purposely avoided the ones I regard as trouble. And boy, let me tell you–trouble is out there. It promises to be an interesting spring. I need my sushi fix, and am eager for tax season to be over and done so I can entice my accountant/dressage/stable owner/sushi buddy out for a dinner out at Sushi Haru.
March 29th, 2009
