A Return To The Wonderful World of Horse Shows

And I remembered why I left.

Couldn't sleep a wink, kept awake by mingling thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. What if it rains, what if I can't find anyone to hold the horse while I hitch him up, what if, what if, what if. Thunderstorms rolled through during the night; is Quz okay in his stall at the fairgrounds? What if he's scared? What if he spooks and kills himself? What if a wheel falls off my cart! What if I break my other leg!

Of course it pretty much stopped raining, the horse was fine (but hungry! He's used to being turned out around 5 a.m.), everything was fine when I got to the fairgrounds around 7:30. Gave Himself a couple of flakes of hay, fresh water, and stepped back to admire the serving platter-sized poo stain on his right side. It seems all his stains are on the right side. Who'd have thought that horses would have a favorite side to sleep on, just like people! It also told me he slept quite well last night, despite being in a strange place. At least he relaxed long enough to grind that fresh manure into his previously-clean and white barrel.

While he broke his fast, I set about unpacking the car, and moving my tack/etc into an empty standing stall at the end of the building. We were in the Draft Horse Barn, and that half of the barn had been moved to the current fairgrounds from the old fairgrounds in town back in the middle-1970's, and they'd added on to it at a later date. It was kind of nice to use those big Draft-sized standing stalls for tack storage, and the mangers worked well for holding shampoos and sprays and such.

Got my cart out of the back of the horse trailer, and attached the shafts. Everything seemed okay, no loose nuts (just the one holding the reins!). I wheeled it from the trailer up by the barn, seemed more sensible to have it by the horse, duuuh!

It didn't take long for Quzqo to suck down his breakfast hay... no grain at horse shows, thank you. Though I had to chuckle that Sandy had brought not only grain for Spike, but also his vitamins, supplements, and electrolytes. Can't be without those! Quz only gets 1/2 scoop a day, so I didn't think he'd miss it or care.

Managed to get Mr. Poopy cleaned up (I really like that Cowboy Magic Green Spot Remover...it works!), braided up his forelock, unbraided his tail, and put him back in his stall. All around me women were busy washing their horses, spraying them with various aerosols to make their darks darker, their whites whiter, or to give that overall finishing shine. That's one disadvantage ... or advantage, to owning a multi-colored fleabitten grey horse... none of that stuff will make a bit of difference! Even when he's clean, he looks dirty, because of all the roaning in the coat. Maybe that's why we never did great in Showmanship.

No Showmanship for me, no Halter either. My ankle only permits a rapid hobble, which doesn't quite present that polished, finished graceful look you want for in-hand classes. Saved myself some money in entry fees and horse cosmetics, and saved myself the embarassment and humiliation. That would come later.

My main concern was timing. When to begin harnessing. Lord Knows I didn't want to RUSH and break the other leg. Slowly the time passed, it was eventually safe for me to put on my show shirt (a flashy red Western shirt with white embroidered roses and pearl snaps, a Christmas gift from my niece back in 2004)(still fits!) and clean off my Western hat ($9.95 at the Michigan Horse Expo last year). They'd finished the Showmanship Division, which left a mere 13 Halter classes and a Championship showback to go before lunch. A good a time as any to start harnessing!

It was so nice to have the stall, I could tack up in peace and quiet, the horse was mellow... relatively. I'd secured the services of my friend, Sandy, to hold him for hitching, and I CAREFULLY led him out of the stall...he was being very careful himself; once he gets those blinkers on, he moves around like Mr. Magoo! I ground drove him a bit around the fairgrounds, no spooks, no fussing, no rearing...good to go!

Once hitched he stood rock solid for me, and I let him...we only had a mere 45 minutes until our class!

We ended up in a back field behind the parked horse trailers to practice and warm up. There were a couple of trailers parked at the edge, and it was amusing to see the horses tied there essentially freaking out of their skins and the horrible terrifying sight of a horse and cart! They had people nearby, so I wasn't concerned. Hey, I had every right to be there, same as them, plus I was about a football field away, so, deal with it. Only so many places one can drive a horse cart y'know (especially since I'd removed my orange "slow moving vehicle" triangle from the back).

Quz did good, lots of energy, yet would halt and back and turn and be his usual good self for me. Getting bored just bounding around across a mown field, we went back to the show grounds and parked in front of my car (because I knew THAT car wasn't going to pull out anytime soon) and waited.

It was fun and cheering to receive all the complements and good wishes from friends and strangers alike, those who knew what happened last year (and apparently it was quite the story that made its rounds of the local horse show world!). As one lady put it, "the last time I saw you, you were drooling in the back seat of a car saying 'these drugs are GOOOOOD!'", LOL. Well, I don't believe I was "drooling", but still...

FINALLY lunch was over, they cleared the arena of all the practicing riders, the tractor came and touched up the dirt (good, nice and neat for my class!), and we were ready to go! The other driver was by the gate already, and they looked GREAT!


Crap, there goes MY chances! Her little Show Shetland was just slick as snot, with a cute little patent leather harness and a snappy little cart, I don't remember what she was wearing, who cared, the pony was too adorable! Quzqo looked like a big Draft Horse in comparison! Oh well, I guess it's better to get a 2nd place competing against someone else rather than a 1st place if you were the only one entered.

Those few final seconds of waiting, I felt all the strength just DRAIN from my arms. Usually it's my legs that go weak, LOL, but since I was sitting comfortably on my butt...well, makes sense I suppose.

They called for us to enter at a trot. Er...huh? TROT? I'm supposed to TROT my horse down a narrow alleyway through a gate and then do a sharp turn to the right? Well, we didn't do that, I was more worried about getting the horse in the arena, through the gate, THEN we managed a trot. He hadn't been in the arena with blinkers before, so he was trying to look at everything, did a little bobble-shy at the show photographer along the rail, but I managed to keep him on the rail and zip around the corners without flipping.


Then they called for a "Road Trot". What the hell's a Road Trot!!!! I looked for the other driver, and saw her little pony just flying along.... okay, "Road Trot" is "fast"! HA! I tried to get Quzqo into a faster trot, but I didn't want to start whupping his butt with the whip...that'd look bad I imagine...I tried kissing noises, clucking noises, saying "Trot", nope, he just sort of happy slacker-trotted along, even SLOWING and getting an actual tap on the butt with the whip to keep him moving.


The announcer then called for a "Park Trot"...again I glanced at the other driver, she'd slowed...okay, "Park Trot" is slow....(I hear "Park Trot" and I visualize Park Arabians, and their Park Trot is NOT slow!). We reverse direction on the diagonal, that was cool, because by then we were on opposite sides of the arena, and we both crossed at the same time, almost looked like a drill team maneuver! Now going the other direction, they called for the Park Trot again...at which we failed miserably. Then a walk, and he slowed very nicely. Line up facing the announcer's stand.

One by one we backed...Quzqo did very well at that. I knew we didn't win, but it was so neat and fun to even BE there...and yes, I'll admit a certain amount of smugness and contempt for those poor slobs whose horses do NOT drive, ha ha ha! Quz may not be able to do a peanut-rolling jog trot, but by gum, he can pull a cart!

We did place second, and since it was double-judged, we got two ribbons. Cheesy dumb FLAT ribbons, *sigh*...I like big fat rosettes, but those days are over for the foreseeable future.

NOW panic set in. I had SEVEN Equitation classes between me getting out of the cart and riding into the arena for my Equitation class! Two of those classes were Saddleseat, with two entries...not a big time-sponge! Yikes!

Got the horse unhitched and unharnessed and saddled, then I ran (hobbled) back to the trailer and changed into my idiot huntseat clothes (why DO we spend so much money on ridiculous skin-tight outfits that we can't really wear anywhere else? The pants are too tight, the shirts have those goofy collars, and the coats are too short to wear to job interviews!). I'm sure by then the temperatures were into the lower 80's, and sweat was just pouring off of me... just appreciating so much the black leather boots, the dark coat, the black unventilated helmet on my head, oh yes.

I will admit; a horse show is the only place on Earth you will see me walking around in light-colored skin-tight pants. Hey, if you don't like what you see, don't look!

Got on horse (bless his heart, he stood rock-solid for me all weekend!!) and into the warm-up ring that he LOATHES! When he wasn't veering towards the center, he was trying to bolt for the open gate, and lacking that, pinning his ears and spooking at people on the rail. And as for tucking his head and being "on the bit"...FUGGEDABOUDIT! Almost every request for him to give to the bit resulted in the head going STRAIGHT UP in the air! (his teeth are fine, the vet checked them last month)(Maybe he needs his brain filed down!)

After a couple of near-disastrous cantering stints, I noticed my show number on the ground! HA! So much for those $#@%& magnetic show number holders....seems they don't work with slick laminated show numbers! Well, now I know that. But do you think I could find any SAFETY PINS??? I threw the horse back in the stall and tore my stuff apart, I KNOW I had a little metal Altoids tin with my safety pins (and spare magnets)...could NOT find it! Not in the tack stall, not in the horse trailer, not in the car! ARRRGH! BLESS the sweet lady who offered to go to the show office and get me a couple of pins to attach the number the old-fashioned way! I was freaking out, I was hot, I felt sick, my class was mere minutes away!

First class was "Novice Huntseat Equitation, 19/0ver", and there were three others in it with me. Unfortunately I recognized two of them as long-time riders from past shows (yes, wimps like me who didn't want to canter!) and the third looked very capable, as did her horse. It seems the only way I've managed to place in the past is if the other entries are worse than me. That's not really a good foundation upon which to build a show career!

Well, we did the class.... trot, walk, reverse, walk, trot, stop, back 3 steps, line up, we placed 4th out of 4 under both judges. I thought we did well, but who knows...


I'm not sure what we're doing here, I suspect we're in the process of backing???? (Dang, is my horse fleabitten or what!??):

After one more class, we were back at the in-gate, ready for "Novice Step-up", an open novice class with (gasp!) cantering! Only the BRAVE dare venture into the dark unknown of the Third Gait! The....CANTER! There were three of us brave souls.... The young teen from the barn (the one who called me about Quzqo's knee injury), and Bob's 7 year old granddaughter...and myself, who will turn 50 in less than 10 days! GAH!

Initially I was embarrassed out of my brain, but then it occurred to me; it's my fellow 19/over Novices who should be crawling under the barns to hide their shame-covered selves from the sight of their fellow entrants...at least I am BRAVE enough to confront....The CANTER! Me, a 15 year old, and a 7 year old. Harrumph!

BWAHAHAA...Hell-Horse:


He looks like he's about to go "Alien" on me! I expect his mouth to open and another fang-riddled mandible shoot out dripping acid! But don't I have the happiest little smile on my face, hee!


We did all right, Quz got his leads right, pretty much spent the whole class with is nose stuck out in front of him, and like I figured, Bob's 7 year old Granddaughter cleaned our clock. But hey, if I was riding that veteran, professionally-trained push-button remote-controlled QH she was on, I bet I would have won too! We did place 2nd under both judges, beating the 15 year old. Whoo Yeah, I'll take it! Any shame I may have had disappeared long ago! At my very first horse show with Tezlu I creamed the field of kiddies in Novice Huntseat, and still have the blue ribbon to prove it!

Had an hour to rest up before they got to my Huntseat Pleasure class. Didn't do any good to try to warm up or work on the headset issue. Yes, I'll admit to feeling a tad discouraged by then.

Barely remember the Huntseat Pleasure class. We did good I thought; correct diagonals, no veering or head tossing, backed like a pro. Once again, placing 4th out of 4. Sigh.

But damn, Quz looks so KEEYOOOOT!:

LONG wait until our trail class! It had started to sprinkle...barely sprinkle. The show committee decided to move the trail course to the new covered arena where they hold the cattle judging during the fair. Well, Quzqo has never been inside that building in his entire life (me neither, for that matter). The trail course was pretty simple: trot to walkover bridge, turn left, walk to cone, pivot 90 degrees to left, trot half-circle to cones, serpentine at trot through cones, trot to and through parallel logs, stop and back through gap in logs in "S" shape, walk out, stop, pivot 360 degrees, dismount. Easy Peasy!

Our first problem came when we were waiting our turn to go in. The gate that was loosely tied open is the exact same kind of gate that TERRORIZES Quzqo on the trail around the barn property. It was the scene of our first big spook fit many years ago, and to this day he will tense up and quiver as he goes past it...expecting it to creak or rattle just as he's near it! It didn't help that right then a breeze came up and moved that gate towards us...squeeeeeeeeeee. The horse side-stepped away and tensed right up. Oh goody.

We went on in, waited at the first cone for the signal from the judges who were seated in chairs at the edge of the arena. Then we started at a nice sitting trot towards the bridge at the other end...Quz jammed on the brakes...

"Oh NO...Oh NO YOU DON'T make me go near that scary thing!!!" He wouldn't even go NEAR it...it was a totally benign low bridge, just like the one at the barn that he will go out of his way to go over because he enjoys it so much! Nope, we gave it three tries, he wouldn't have anything to do with it!

So, we went around, stopped, pivoted 90 degrees, picked up the trot...halfway through the half-circle, OHMYGODTHERE'SPEOPLE THERE! He'd spotted the judges and jumped sideways...got him going to the cones....right at that instant the show photog snapped a pic, the flash spooked the horse and he jumped through the cones and out the other side! THAT kind of annoyed me...they should have included her in the original pattern if she was going to sit there at the rail flashing her camera at the horses!


Why am I smiling? Either that or cry!

We made it to the parallel logs, he backed halfway before deciding this was bullshit and refused to go any further, spun to the left and ended up rearing before hopping over the log. We trotted to the end, he did a beautiful pivot 360 degrees, I dismounted, ran the stirrup irons up the leathers, and then left. We placed 5th out of 5, I didn't bother even picking up the ribbons for that miserable experience; I don't want the reminders.

I'm kind of bummed the photographer didn't get a shot of him in mid-rear, that'd have been worth buying a copy of!

I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel like crap. All that work, all that sweat, all that money, just to be told repeatedly that I suck, my horse sucks, we both suck together. I tried to console myself by thinking that those show horses were nigh useless out on a REAL trail. In fact, one of the horses from our barn who did flawlessly over the trail course that day IS totally useless outside a fenced-in area. His owner has lamented repeatedly that she can't even take him on the trail around the barn property without him going berserk. Small consolation, that.

Totally disheartened and with tears welling in my eyes, I put Quz back in his stall, untacked and brushed him, filled his hay bag to bursting, fresh cool water in his bucket, and promised him I'd never put him (and me) through this again (after tomorrow) (well...I'd pre-paid, they've got my $7.20, they can suffer with having to look at us!).

Earlier this year I'd come to the realization that I don't really like showing. I'm not a competitive person, I don't have big bucks, I don't have a show horse. Truthfully, look at your good show horses; they like it! They don't veer towards the gates, they don't balk at going into an arena, they stand in the lineup with dull-eyed acceptance and mindless obedience, not even having to wait for the rider's cue to change gaits, they recognize the words over the loudspeaker and automatically comply. They're content to lope slowly with their heads tucked and on the rail until the next command comes along. They'll doze by their trailers or in their rented stalls, and stand like statues as their pasterns are clipped and their manes banded. They don't need Pony Pops in their stalls to keep them occupied.

Some people are destined for the stage, some are more content working the ropes and pulleys behind the curtain. I believe it's the same for horses. I asked myself "what makes me the happiest"? It's no big genius revelation; I'm the happiest riding my horse, alone, through the tall trees in the forest, with just the invisible songbirds in the canopy overhead. No smell of horse makeup, no blaring announcer's stand, no arbitrary number on my back. Life's too short to spend it doing things that make you cry. This might just be my last horse show.

Until tomorrow, because, as I mentioned... I prepaid.