“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.
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.
