The Frenchman's Blue Plate Special

You'd think that after all the hours under saddle Quzqo has endured this summer, he'd be rather blasé about trail rides. I'd taken him out in harness the other evening, and he behaved perfectly well, better than ever in fact! So one would assume (and you know what happens when you assume...) he'd be fine going out on the trail this weekend!

Got him all tacked up and headed out on a coolish late August Sunday, temps in the high 50's (August??? In Alaska maybe!), a good breeze from the north, sunny. They were cutting hay in the fields adjoining the barn property, and the local high school Equestrian Team was holding practice down in the outdoor arena. I rode Quz over near the arena and stood on a hillside watching the goings-on. He was very interested, standing rock-still, probably worried that his future involved going into that arena and running around in circles like those poor horses down there. Had to laugh to myself...two of the non-riding teen girls sitting by the arena turned and stared at us... rudely so. Were they thinking "what a beautiful white Arabian!!!" or "What's that old lady doing here???". I prefer the former, of course.

We headed out the driveway, avoiding all the trucks and trailers parked in the field below. Briefly were chased by a houseguest's Cardigan Corgi but he gave up because actually chasing a horse would mean work. Off into the field where they were cutting hay. Luckily the tractor was pretty far off, not that I think Quzqo would have issues with it, but I knew I shouldn't chance it.

Got him into a nice trot, and then into an awesome canter that quickly turned into a hand gallop up the hill. I rode one-handed, just giggling to beat the band as he flew up the fenceline and up the hill. The little bugger actually WAS hand-galloping! Cooler weather and exciting wind, and not having been ridden/driven for two days probably.

But he IS Quzqo and he petered out before we reached the top of the hill. Walked down and near the neighbor's horses, which now includes a mare and adorable foal, and an odd companion mare with a penchant for spooking and wild galloping, tail flagging, head high. She waited 'til we got close before she exploded and bolted around the pasture...Quzqo jumped sideways and attempted to spin to head back the way we'd come. I didn't bring my whip, but I did have spurs, and managed to get him back heading our original direction, and he marched past the scary fenceline filled with insane Quarter Horses into the open field.

Past the danger, he began his usual slogging pace, if I tried to get him to walk a little faster, he'd break into a trot. More than once he tried his "I have an itch" scam where as soon as I let him lower his head to scratch, he dives for the grass. But I had the shanked curb in his mouth this time, so he had to do what I wanted for once!

He was pretty good as we headed down the dirt road, other than balking as we left the hayfield. Hm, he hasn't done that all year...is he reverting? Is he bored and thinking up new things to test me with??? Again he balked as we headed into the woods, trying to turn and go back the way we came. I regretted using roping reins, since I didn't have any extra to pop his butt with like with split reins!

More petulant hoof-dragging and trying to turn back at every pause. We were in another set of forest, and could heard dogs barking up ahead. Quzqo stopped and downright refused to move one more step! His head came up, ears forward, I could feel his heart pounding through the leather of the saddle. If I tried to cue him forward, he started backing up and trying to turn around!

There were multiple dogs barking, probably up at the dirt road ahead, out of sight. Quz isn't normally concerned with barking dogs, so this kind of concerned me. But I couldn't let him get his way and chicken out. I let him stand and ponder for a minute or two, but if I tried to cue him forward, he'd start backing and trying to turn back. Once we ended up with his butt up on the side of the trail in the trees. I was wondering about my own supposed wisdom in pursuing this plan of action...in the movies the horses are always the ones to warn the ignorant humans of impending doom ("Black Beauty" anyone?) and it's the pig-headed humans that have to have their way, much to the misery of all involved.

Yeah, I'm a pig-headed human, and after some reassuring pats and then a curse and a series of smacks to the pommel of my saddle with the reins, he hesitantly marched forward, coiled so tight I was sure he was going to explode at any second!!

I could see movement through the trees...and Quzqo burst out of the woods into the road, and then we could see that Dog "A" was in fact "Killer" the redneck Spaniel out in front of his house to our right, and Dogs "B" through "E" were down the road to our left, helping their human install or remove full-sized American and Canadian flags from the crossed hockey sticks adorning their mailbox!!

Did I mention there was a pretty good sustained wind?

Dogs "B" through "E" saw us and began barking louder and bounding in our direction. They appeared to be various mixes, one had to be part Great Dane, a couple of Lab or Golden Retriever crosses, and one smaller Mutt. The man stopped messing with the flags long enough to begin bellowing at the dogs, which of course, only got them more excited!

Quzqo froze and regarded the canines approaching. There was no way I was going to turn him around, because that'd guarantee a dog chase! So, since the man couldn't control them, I cued him forward, and we walked towards the oncoming dog pack.

As predicted, the dogs stopped and bolted back towards their human, tails between their legs. I called to the man that it was all right, they're only doing their jobs, in an attempt to get him to quit his hollering. As we approached the man, dogs, and waving flags, here comes an ATV down their drive way, I assume with the wife driving! Gee, all I needed now was a marching band and maybe the Goodyear Blimp for good measure!!

Quz did a little side-spook but kept going, and he managed to walk past the melee of barking dogs, waving flags, hollering humans and blatting all-terrain vehicles. Let's see THAT in a horse show trail class!!

We kept it to a walk until we were maybe 75 yards past the driveway. Quzqo was thrumming with tension, I could feel it. Once we were well away from the dogs, I got him into a trot that turned into another hand gallop and off we went down the dirt road!

Into the woods again. The heavy, heavy rains of the past few days filled all the dips in the two-track with water, so we had a veritable obstacle course of puddles and small ponds. Of course he managed to avoid every single one, even the ones I tried to get him to go through. We made it as far as my favorite little stream, and stood quietly for a while listening to the water gurgle. That went well for a few seconds before Quzqo decided I'd had enough listening to water, and started to turn around. Of course that meant he had to walk a few yards in the original direction, despite much balking and tail-cranking, THEN we turned around on MY say-so.

He hauled back, wanting to trot, but I kept him walking. He spooked at the puddles, at the shadows, at the sticks. Just because he was being such a dick, we took a left turn onto the Michigan Shore-to-Shore trail...it was like steering a barge! Again I had to smack my pommel with the reins to get him moving. He was stopping, sniffing, trying to turn...it was like pulling teeth to get him down that narrow trail on the hillside. About halfway down he resigned himself and plunged forward in an effort to get it over with. We crossed the stream again, and once on the other side of the little bridge, stopped, assuming (wrongly) that we were turning around. Just because of that I pointed him up the trail. And did he ever refuse! He tried to spin, back, anything but move forward. I spurred him upwards and probably calling me every name in the book, he went up the hill. Once at the top I turned him around without warning, and we went back down, much to his surprise and delight!

We got back out onto the dirt road and I got him into a trot (my butt was numb from all that walking), then a canter. He was good for a few yards before he decided no, he didn't want to canter, and kept dropping back to a trot. I kept getting him back into a canter, then he'd veer suddenly to the left or the right, depending what side the invisible horse-demons were on at the time.

At least the man with the dogs, flags, and ATV were gone, looks like he was removing them since all that was left on the mailbox were the crossed hockey sticks.

As I was pondering our good fortune, and debating if I wanted to turn right and go back through the woods, or go straight out to the main road, without any warning whatsoever, Quzqo jammed on the brakes and reared up in a spin! The visor of my helmet hit the back of his neck as I flew forward, and my goodness, how nicely up-close I could see all the fleabites on his neck!! We ended up 90 degrees to the left, and I spun him around further. "You want to spin! FINE!! SPIN!!"

I'll admit right here I was pretty pissed off after putting up with 2 hours of his foolishness and attitude. We headed down into the woods (because I knew what spookable things would be down the road) and after one more in-place spook, took up the reins tighter than normal and kicked him forward. If his attention is on ME, it'd be less likely to wander and see boogie men in the shadows!!

We made it to the road, and instead of crossing back into the woods, we side-passed down the side of the road until we got past the SCARYSCARY realtor's sign that is always good for a bolt into the lane of traffic, then into a great ground-eating trot. Onto another dirt road where I got his sorry self into another canter, and this time he was all for cantering, because he knew he was heading HOME!

Eventually, without any further Sue-Loses-A-Stirrup caliber spookings, we did make it back to the barn. I was less than pleased with my boy, but I know he's just being a horse, a high-strung Arabian horse, and I probably wouldn't like anything less. I dismounted, congratulated him on not killing me, and told him see, I didn't kill you either! Here we are, home, safe and sound!!!

I led him into the barn, and was walking him past a big pile of sawdust. I didn't notice the wheelbarrow by the sawdust until apparently Quzqo hit it with his right hind leg and he EXPLODED up into the air and in front of me, knocking the wheelbarrow over, and landing maybe 15 feet ahead of me, reins dangling, stirrups akimbo, and standing on three legs!!!

SHIT!

He was hesitant to put any weight on his right hind...I checked him over, there was no visible injury. Shitshitshit!! All that nonsense on the trail, and he hurts himself in his own barn!!!

Gingerly I led him forward, and he limped a couple of steps then began walking normally. Quickly I untacked him, double-checked his leg, nothing was swelling. But taking no chances, I took him out to the wash rack and ran cold water on his leg while he grazed. I was happy to see him putting significant weight on that leg, and he had no problem walking. Put him back in his stall where the Magikal Hay and Grain Fairy had come and filled all his food containers, Joy Joy! But I stole his grain bucket away before he could dive into it, and spiked it with some bute powder. He didn't seem to notice or care and scarfed it right down!

So I'm hoping and praying he didn't do more than maybe bruise himself, or maybe tweak something when he jumped over the wheelbarrow. The hoofprints in the ground are pretty deep where he launched himself, and the impact prints are impressively far away from his take-off point!

Now I feel guilty for cursing him and calling him a Frenchman's Blue Plate Special for trying to kill me with his spooking. When I check on him tonight, it'll be nothing but peppermints and nose-kisses for sure!

---

An Update: Visited Himself this evening, and happy to report that Quz is fine, no limp, no swelling. Whadda boy!

Trail Ride Poker Run - 13th Time's the Charm

It's August and time for the monthly Poker Ride and Extreme Cowboy Race Weekend at the barn! I'll admit originally I wasn't going to do it, but then that Friday evening Bob asked me if I was coming along and before I could do anything my mouth went and said "Sure, I'll be there!". Stupid mouth!

By this time I'm pretty blasé about group trail rides, so I didn't hurry to get to the barn, I brought Quzqo in from the field, put him in his stall to enjoy a flake of hay while I organized my tack. I was still saddling him up by the time the indoor arena was full of trail riders warming up and familiarizing themselves with their loaner horses.

No Amish this time around!

Quz was sort of mellow about the whole affair as well. Maybe he does pick up on my emotions. I didn't even bother mounting up until everyone else was heading for the gate to go outside...I figure the less time sitting in the saddle, the happier my butt will be!

Despite the lying Weather Channel radar, there was a steady drizzle falling, probably that light stuff that doesn't show up on radar. But it was the lower 60's, I had enough layers on, and my tack is fugly, so who cares if it got damp. We ended up with around 14 horses and riders, and headed off!

Quzqo and I started out 4th in the line. As is usual, by the time we reached the road, about a mile's distance, we were dead last. I don't even worry about it any more, I know it's going to happen. I think he prefers it like that!

He also sported a bright red ribbon on his tail, and I was surprised at how many people assumed it was just decoration, and I had to explain to them about the kicking thing. Once they found out he kicks, they gave us wide berth. I recommend red ribbons even if your horse doesn't kick; it keeps people from letting their horses crowd you!

One of the riders compared Quzqo to the Arabian in "The Thirteenth Warrior"...I take that as a complement! And surrounded by all the big stock horses, he did sort of look like "Ahmed's" little Arabian! Jumps like him, too!

Hey, look, even their weather is similar!!

Quz, for the most part, behaved admirably, I was surprised! No kicking, no fussing, no drama queen temper tantrums. Maybe it was the grey day and drizzle that put a damper on things. In fact, most the horses behaved admirably. Must have been the weather!

The woods were amazing!! Normally this time of year, everything is dried and brown and dormant due to all the heat and lack of rain. This has been a unique summer, in that it's been much cooler than normal, with above average rainfall. As a result, the forest floor was carpeted with more diverse mushrooms and fungi than I can ever recall seeing! Bright fire engine red, bright yellow, orange with spots, black, white, creamy, splotchy, upright, flat to the ground, clusters, singles. If I was alone I probably would have dismounted many times to take photos, assuming I had my camera with me.

Unfortunately the heavy rainfall also meant that the Black Hole Of Sucking Death, i.e. the patch of mud at the bottom of a swamp on the trail, would be under water, and it was. The scene of our spectacular 13th-Warrior-Caliber leap on July's poker run came up sooner than I'd like, and I surprised myself by being absolutely terrified as we approached. It was bigger. It was wider. It was longer. It was deeper. It was six feet across and totally submerged in standing water. Fear gripped my very being, Quzqo became all wound up and antsy. Recall the trail here is about three feet wide with sharp drop-offs into swamp on either side. The front horses crossed without issue, being either too young or too stupid to know they should be afraid. The huge grey Quarter Horse in front of us was terrified, and proceeded to back his ample backside down the trail towards us, but we had horses behind us, and no place to go!

Last time some of the riders opted to go off the trail and lead their horses around the mud pit. The ground was uneven and soggy, but it wasn't a foot deep in black tarry mud and standing water. Bob's wife, Pam, dismounted and began to lead her horse off the trail. I felt like I was sitting on a water balloon filled with nitro-glycerine about to explode...Quzqo WANTED to go forward. He WANTED to jump the damned mudhole...I could tell he was rarin' to go, to go leaping skyward and kill Sue in the process!!!

He stood still for a split second, and I took that opportunity to jump off! As soon as my feet hit the ground I felt 1000% safer and calmer and more confident! Quzqo also settled slightly, and we moved aside to let the big grey Quarter Horse move back to the end of the line so his rider could calm him down a bit.

I tried to lead Quzqo off the trail and down into the swamp...he'd have none of it. He balked, he threw his head up, he refused. I turned my back on him and just began walking. True to form, he followed, but only after LEAPING off the trail and landing in the squelchy grass inches from my feet! The next step sucked my shoe right off my left foot as we headed into the bushes. Surrounded by saplings and branches, I had to stop and turn to get the shoe, with Quzqo blessedly patiently standing in the swamp, up to his fetlocks in muck and moss. Retrieving the shoe, we managed to wind our way through the tangle of branches and ferns and fallen trees, my stocking foot squishing in the mud...all I could think of was my tender little toes mere inches from Quzqo's mighty little Arabian hooves.

The other riders who were on foot followed by a different, longer route, but their horses were taller and I don't think they could have fit through the route we took. I stopped long enough to put my wet shoe on my wet foot, and with the help of a raised bank of dirt, managed to get back on Quz without further incident!

Can't tell you how RELIEVED I was to be past that damned mudhole! We all agreed we'd gladly donate money and labor to the Michigan Trail Riders' Assocation to build a bridge over that horror!! Gladly!!!

The rest of the ride was thankfully uneventful, other than the constant drizzle combined with occasional actual rain. One good thing, it kept the bugs down, and it kept the dirt bikers and rednecks in pick-up trucks home and traffic to a minimum.

Quz did surprisingly well. He didn't spook once, he didn't shy, he trotted when asked, he cantered when asked, he backed and side-passed when asked. He was even a little more patient when we stopped to receive our poker cards. I seriously think the weather had a lot to do with it!

As usual, the ride took over four hours. My poker hand was laughably bad and I only hung around long enough to grab a hot dog and a cup of coffee before heading home. But I was happy enough to have had an actually enjoyable ride on a sane, level-headed Arabian for once! Good friends, good horses, not too horrible weather. That's what it's all about!

Left to right: Lorraine (Pam's student) on Colby, Pam on Tru, and me on Himself.

Quzqo Finally Wins a Blue Ribbon!

Well...his portrait anyway.

I worked on this big Prismacolor colored pencil drawing on Sundays while vending at the farmers' market earlier this summer, working from a photo I'd taken on a drive earlier this year. It's a big drawing, around 12" wide, 18" tall.

Entered it our regional fair, and happy day, not only did it win its "Pencil Drawing" class (to be fair, there wasn't much in the way of competition, *cough*cough*), it also took 2nd place in the Graphics Arts Division Sweepstakes!!


I also won the first place Sweepstakes with another drawing, but it wasn't Quzqo, so...

Yay Us!

IT'S GONNA EAT MEEEE!!!

Haven't been riding Quzqo too much lately. I found out a couple of weeks ago that the farrier never trimmed him back in July because he was being such a stinker, he couldn't get anything done, so he just didn't bother to do more than trim the hind soles. Would have been nice if someone told me, instead I just assumed the farrier did a helluva bad job and wondered WTF?

So Quzqo's feet have been growing, nicely protected by his shoes, and now they're as long as a Park Horse's hooves...I'm almost ashamed to have such long feet on him, he looks downright neglected! It also showed me how nicely he kept his hooves worn down without shoes, since he went 12 weeks last summer without a trim due to his knee injury, and they never looked as long as now! And as an added bonus, his left front shoe is loose, clanking when he walks, and easily wiggled! He's been tripping like a drunkard, and if I trotted him, I could hear his hind feet clipping his forefeet.

The farrier's due to work on horses either this coming Friday or Monday, either way I'll take time off from work so I can be there to hold him, and see if I can help out if Quz turns stinker again. He can be hell on wheels when he gets "a mood", and my farrier isn't that patient a fellow, I can imagine the fireworks that might have transpired. He's probably more used to mellow stock horses, not little drama queens. (course he's been trimming Quz for the past 5 years, so don't know what changed!)

ANYway, tonight I felt like a ride anyway, and figured if we just kept it to a walk on the property, it won't be bad for the feet. The horse seemed in a pretty good mood, he'd had his grain and was into his evening hay, I didn't have too much trouble prying his face away from that first cutting goodness!

Tacked up and off we went, should have noticed the warning signs when he was walking tensly like a coiled spring just around the outside of the barn. We made it through the Creaking Gates of Doom (the scene of our big spook-fit on our very first trail ride together back in '04!), up along the fence line by the woods. The evening was cool, but the crickets were noisy, the sunlight golden, just a beautiful, peaceful evening!

We came along the back end of the property, to a steep hill to go down. Quzqo planted his feet and refused to go one step further. His head came up, his ears pricked forward, he snorted, staring at SOMETHING.

The neighbor was working on a run-in shed for his horses, probably 1/4 mile away. I assumed that was what he was seeing. I cued him forward...nope, not moving. He managed a wobbly side-ways step before spinning 180 back the way we came. I spun him right back the way we were facing. He planted his feet, staring... though I noticed he wasn't exactly staring at the neighbor, but rather, straight ahead!

Don't know exactly how long we had our "discussion" on how to proceed, which pretty much boiled down to "Move Forward!" and "Hell NO!"...wash, rinse, repeat.

He'd start backing up..okay, you want to back up, back up! I'd keep him backing up for maybe 10-20 steps, then cue him forward, which he'd do unhappily, get just so far, then plant the feet! Again we'd have our discussion, again he'd either spin around, or start backing. If he started backing, I kept him backing, then move him forward. Each time I moved him forward I DID get him a few feet or inches further down the trail until he'd plant his feet and stare at the horror in front of him!

As far as I could determine, the horror with the horse-blood-dripping fangs and yellow staring eyes that he saw was...a couple of dead tree branches on the other side of the hot wire, on the ground, in HIS pasture! Those branches have been there for months, we've gone past them countless times without incident (of course there's also been times there's been huge Drama Queen blowups about it).

After one more back-the-horse-up-practically-back-to-the-barn incident, and the horse stood rooted to the ground, staring at the branches about 50 feet ahead of us down the hill, and imagining what the neighbor was thinking (probably smug about owning Quarter Horses and thinking unkind thoughts about Arabians)...I seriously considered turning him around, riding all the way back to the barn (over a mile), go past the barn and up the other side of the property, and approach the Sticks Of Doom from the other direction. I cued Quz for a walk, and imagine my surprise when he walked forward and began down the hill!!

We edged as far from the Branches Of Death as we could, with the neighbor's electric fence on our left... I could feel Quzqo's heartbeat through the leather of the saddle fenders, it was pounding in his ribcage so hard! It was like riding a stick of dynomite, coiled so tightly I was seriously afraid he was going to explode then and there!

We made it past the Sticks From Hell and marched further down the hill...when we got to the bottom, I made my usual mistake. I said, out loud, something to the effect of "See? Just when I don't expect it, you can be goo-" and he BUCK-BOLTED like a bat outta hell from some unseen horror, perhaps he saw the Death Twigs behind him!

But, it IS Quzqo, and he only got a few yards before I slowed him back to a walk, laughing, and imagining what the neighbor might have been thinking (nothing good!).

The walk back to the barn was a series of twitchy-in-place-spooks and side-stepping at bobbing Queen Anne's Lace blossoms or frightening clover blossoms. A pair of Sand Hill Cranes were in the adjoining field and began squawking at us, which produced more lovely side-passing into the neighboring hayfield. The huge birds took flight, heading straight for us, but thankfully turned to the West and went away!

Made it back in one piece, once in the barn Quzqo let out a huge sigh and began yawning. Another near-death experience, dodging the Grim Horse Reaper yet again!