jitterbug | Horse Racing Free Tips

“You have GOT to stop pulling.”

I feel like I say that a lot these days to my 4-year-old off-track Thoroughbred in what I think is our sixth week of stall rest but feels more like the sixtieth. Although his progress healing from a cracked splint bone has been good, he is not yet at the level of soundness he'll need to withstand the rough and tumble play in the field which probably led to this injury, so a month after our last update, we are still basically in the same place.

We are cleared for twice-daily hand grazes and just this week, under-saddle walks. After a Christmas week that included lots of texts to my veterinarian about reserpine and horse poo consistency, as well as a particularly rough hand walk where Blueberry had a rare temper tantrum and spent several minutes as a balloon, I told my friends at the barn I'd had just about enough of stall rest.

'He's driving me crazy,' I said.

But it's often in the most unexpected circumstances that we learn to appreciate the best in our horses. In the background of nursing Blueberry through his splint, I've also been exploring new career options for my 17-year-old draft cross mare. As I've written before, Jitterbug's start in life was not an easy one, and as a result, the start of her training was rocky. She was easy to start under saddle; the challenge came in when she realized I expected her to take instructions from me. We learned dressage, eventing, and jumpers together after I had spent my riding career in hunt seat, and as you can imagine, that was a slow transition. She was not – and still isn't – a particularly willing partner in dressage, but to balance her large frame and downhill canter for the jumps, we had to do a lot of it. It would be a step too far to say dressage judges hated us, but they were usually pretty happy to see us amble out of the ring.

The first horse (at right) and the second (at left)

When it came time for her to find a less rigorous job, I began making inquiries. There was interest from both a local lesson barn whose owner I know well and a nearby therapeutic riding program to lease her on trial (with the provision I retain ownership and be able to come ride and snuggle her frequently – a requirement for me after years of covering stories of well-intentioned sales gone wrong). As I've introduced her to new people, I've had to answer a lot of questions about her.

How is she with kids? Oh she loves kids; kids are her favorite people because they take the least amount of effort and are the most grateful for it. It's the perfect formula.

How is she with a busy environment? Well, since her normal exercise takes place with other (sometimes very green) horses working around her, surrounded by dogs and children, sometimes in blustery wind with pastured horses zooming around just over the fence, I'd say there's not much that bothers her. Except (ironically) carriages. Don't let her see a carriage.

Cows? Thinks they're a bit weird and doesn't really want one for a friend, so mostly just stares at them. Is turned out near a goat, a mini horse, chickens, and mini donkey, so other farmyard animals are no problem.

Is she hard to stop if she gets going with a forward trot? You're kidding, right?

What about ground manners? Her favorite thing in the world is eating. Her second favorite is sleeping. Her third favorite is days when her only job is to stand in the crossties while I clean tack, clean the stall, or clean her. She has quite literally stood there lazily in the midst of multiple fireworks displays while the barn cat weaved in between her legs.

Does she trail ride? She gets very excited on trail rides, and by that I mean she carries her head about four inches higher and sometimes snorts at trees.

Instead of focusing on what she couldn't (or wouldn't) do anymore, the process has made me realize what a terribly useful horse she is for a low-key job with riders in a lesson or therapeutic program, mostly because of how smart she is. She is very good at assessing any given situation and mentally filtering out what she doesn't need to spend energy on. (And in her case, there's very little she thinks is worth spending energy on – a liability in a dressage test, but a strength for the young students she has had through the years.)

That was what drew me to Blueberry's mother when I first met her at Keeneland. She was sweet, but above all, she was smart. She considered new things calmly, curiously. She learned habits – she could shift her weight to give me the next hoof when I finished picking one, and learned which direction I went around her body. She quickly figured out that it was easiest after a show to wait for me at the front of the stall; I might be back for her in a minute and a half because she was so popular, or if I had to get another filly out, she probably had about ten minutes to grab a snack before her next trip.

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When I swung a leg over Blueberry for our first under-tack walk earlier this week, I was taking extra precautions. Including his vacation after the Makeover and some downtime before his splint diagnosis, he hadn't been under saddle in two months. I checked my girth a few extra times. I asked my husband to hold him by the mounting block. I closed the arena gate.

And – he was serene. Forward and cheerful, but utterly unflappable. Our rides since have been exactly the same.

Sure, part of it was probably the low dose of reserpine a couple of weeks ago. But I think most of that is his brain. I think he's mostly happy to be doing something, but is smart enough to realize it's not worth too many airs above the ground. My friends keep pointing out what an incredible testimonial it is to him that at the age of four, he has been stalled for six weeks with comparatively minimal drama. There are some horses, particularly young ones and particularly hot-blooded breeds, who can't tolerate stall rest even with much heavier-hitting drugs at higher doses, and who would never have made it a month without needing some kind of sedation. He still stands quietly in the crossties for his standing wraps, ignores the gusts of wind rocking the barn and rattling the doors. He gets through each day not worrying about the one before or the one after, and I'm trying to channel his very smart coping mechanism.

I look really clever, having now hand-picked two incredibly rational, intelligent horses as partners. When I adopted Blueberry, I had been thinking about picking up a young prospect for some time, as I knew Jitter would soon need a lower-stress job. I wasn't committed to getting a Thoroughbred, actually. I wanted a really smart horse, and if they were athletic then that was a nice bonus. I was determined to reunite with him before exploring any other options, and see if he was the personality match I'd hoped for.

As I get ready to get back in the car for a second trip to the farm this holiday, I may feel tired but I also feel lucky. Even as our dressage training is on ice, Blueberry reminds me a little each day what an extraordinary individual he is. There was a Thoroughbred out there for me. I really believe there's a Thoroughbred out there for everyone.

The post The Blueberry Bulletin Presented By Equine Equipment: The Value Of A Really Good Brain appeared first on Horse Racing News | Paulick Report.

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This is the second installment in our monthly column from editor-in-chief Natalie Voss following her journey with her 2021 Thoroughbred Makeover hopeful Underscore, fondly known as Blueberry. Read previous editions in this series here and learn Blueberry's origin story and the author's long-running bond with this gelding and his family here. You can find Blueberry's Facebook page here.

Horse racing is a sport predicated on comparisons – both of horses actively competing against each other and those generations apart. For some years, Racing Twitter loved nothing more than to pit two greats from different eras against each other in a theoretical race (Man o' War vs. Secretariat is the one that used to make the rounds) and ask which one would have won. It's a question people still love to ask jockeys and trainers who have been lucky enough to work with more than one top-level runner. The interviewee almost never has a very stunning or insightful answer and I frankly think that's because it's a ridiculous question.

As someone who rides, I have a keen sense for what unique individuals horses can be and that's probably why I've never found these comparisons all that interesting. Great horses are no more similar to each other than mediocre ones, so a lot of it has seemed like comparing apples, oranges, and bananas for me.

And yet, I find myself doing exactly the same thing in my own riding life.

Although I've been riding my whole life, Blueberry is just the second horse who has been my own. My first is an opinionated Percheron/Thoroughbred cross mare named Jitterbug, who I have written about here before. She was a neglect case in her youth, essentially feral until the age of three. I began working with her when she was five and unbroke. While teaching her to carry a saddle and rider was surprisingly easy, it took years for her to become a reliable mount with a solid walk/trot/canter who could reasonably be said to stand for the farrier, bathe, tie, clip, load – the most basic list of skills you see in most sale ads. She has been a challenging ride, made more challenging by the fact I encountered her at a time I was retraining my hunt seat to dressage.

We have accomplished a lot together when I think about where she started – a buggy-eyed, rank individual of Too Much Weight and Too Much Brain, shuddering in the back of her stall the fall morning I first met her more than a decade ago. We've competed successfully in horse trials, combined tests, dressage and jumper classes; we've hacked many miles in the local parks and on hunter paces; she is now reliable enough to carry children around, as long as they have no ego at all and tell her how pretty she is. I cannot pretend that she has always been easy or good for me as a rider. Flatwork sessions on late nights under the arena lights have sometimes ended in frustrated tears. She's bigger than me, and she will never unlearn that. We know each other so well, we crawl into each other's brains and play chess over 20-meter trot circles. A lot of effort goes into minimal improvements in our dressage training, but I have to admit there were many times I had doubted she would be rideable at all so perhaps I should take what I can get.

Jitterbug is now 17, and Blueberry's arrival in my care after his retirement in November was impeccably timed. Jitterbug is partially leased by a kind family who ask relatively little of her, and she and I needed a break from pushing each other's buttons. As I've brought Blueberry along under saddle these last two months, it's been hard not to think about all the positive qualities he had that the big mare … well … doesn't. (A work ethic, for example.)

The author with the big mare

I'm trying to reframe this way of thinking, as I don't think it's totally fair to the OG. So instead, I've been trying to think about the lessons one horse has taught me in order to prepare me for her polar opposite.

A horse with a good mind is worth their weight in gold. Mentality was more important to me than anything else when I began thinking about my next riding partner, and that's what attracted me to Blueberry. Jitterbug has kept me safe through fireworks shows, rogue wildlife, loose horses flying by us at horse shows, and all manners of klutzy moments as I've led her to and from the field in icy mud. So far, Blueberry has shown similar wisdom, tuning out galloping pals in neighboring paddocks on late evenings in the arena, staring placidly at loose horses at shows (it's a jungle out there) and learning to ignore a Most Unsettling Power Saw. He's an athletic little thing, but even if he moved like a giraffe, I'd know I was safe. As I get older, I have come to appreciate that I do not bounce so well when I hit the ground, and as such I value a horse that will avoid any unnecessary gravity checks.
At some point, if you chose well, your developing horse will outclass you. This discovery with Jitterbug came when she progressed from smaller fences to three-foot monsters and I realized suddenly that all that talk about a tight lower leg was not a suggestion based on aesthetics but practicality. That was several years into our journey together. In true OTTB fashion, Blueberry learns new things quickly both mentally and physically, so it was a matter of weeks before he went from doing the drunken sailor/baby horse wobbles around corners in the arena to proudly holding himself up. While he was getting stronger, I was staying basically the same and as soon as he was capable of taking bigger, more upright strides, I started looking like a beginner. Floppy lower legs, a wobbling core, weak wrists – it's all I can see when I watch video of us working together. I suspect all riders hate watching their own equitation but I'd forgotten just how much I hate it. I think I'd assumed I had more time to develop myself and now we're waiting on my fitness level to catch up to the 4-year-old greenie.
The answer to this is always to drop your stirrups and suffer through as much posting trot as you can. This is tougher once you get a horse with a Thoroughbred-sized stride, by the way. I hate this truth, but I can't escape it.
Smart horses will learn from you every moment, even when you aren't trying to teach them things. I can no longer blame my horses for immediately running out of gas after a nice transition from canter to trot. I apparently am so relieved to have kept a consistent position from one kind of bouncing gait to another that I immediately become a wet noodle, inadvertently suggesting 'You know, this is a great time for a nap.' All this time I had blamed the half Perch for halting a few steps after a lovely canter, and in fact I am the lazy one. Sorry, Jitter.
You're playing the long game here. It's easy to become discouraged when considering the above, especially when you're an amateur rider like I am, fitting in lessons and training rides around the edges of a full-time job. It's easy to feel like you're behind where you could or should be. Jitterbug has taught me though, that any real progress worth measuring takes place over months and years. I hope Blueberry and I will be partners for many years to come, and that means each of us will have periods of rapid progress and plateaus, both physical and mental. Yes, he seems like an easy ride right now, but we will have our struggles eventually. That's just life with horses. The more important thing will be looking at how far we've come, and working through those challenges as a team.

The post The Blueberry Bulletin Presented By Equine Equipment: Lessons From A Draft Cross To An OTTB appeared first on Horse Racing News | Paulick Report.

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