As I mentioned in the previous post, Laura began taking lessons in the indoor arena her father built at their farm (I know, LUCKY girl - can you blame me for hating her at first)? Sometimes I was allowed to ride Flashy in the lesson with her, but the poor horse didn't know his right lead from his left, and most definitely didn't know how to canter without first trotting as fast as he possibly could. But he and the horse trainer humored me anyway. It didn't take long for me to realize that I actually didn't know much about the mechanics of horse riding like I thought I did. What exactly was a right lead anyway? Hmmmm, diagonals? Hunt seat? Equitation, what?!? I was now keeping Flashy part time at Laura's farm and part time at the barn with Bridget. I know he and Bridget missed each other, but I was on a mission. Flash now knew what it was like to be kept in a stall, and he did not like it! This was a horsey horse, not a stall kept ninny - at least that's what he tried telling me.
Like I said earlier, Laura was beginning to show at local Tennessee Walking Horse shows. At that time, early 90's, the Walking Horse Shows weren't very big here in Michigan. They usually were held at someones farm where the horses were just tied to trailers. Some of the people at the shows didn't know a thing about what they were doing, while others seemed seasoned and polished. Laura usually cleaned up in the Equitation division and did pretty well in every other class as well. It wasn't long before she was the one to beat. She had people coming up to her all the time with flattering comments on her riding abilities and horse's quality. I began wanting for THAT kind of attention myself. No longer did trail riding seem sufficient, I had no idea that a whole 'nother horse world existed.
I began pestering my mother for riding lessons. "You already have a horse and ride just fine," she'd try to reason with me. I insisted, so after a while, she took me to the nearest horse farm she could think of. This particular farm was a big Morgan Horse facility about 3 miles from my parents house. It had been there all through my mom's childhood, so she knew of it. Though she didn't particularly like Morgans, she assumed that after a few lessons, I'd wisen up and be satisfied with my little horse at home.
I remember my very fist lesson like it was yesterday. I chose to ride hunt seat because I'd never done it before. The barn owner and trainer (we'll call her J) scheduled me for a semi private lesson with the older riders in her barn (13-16 year olds). She stuck me on an older gelding named Merriweather B Dandy and away we went. I flopped around on that poor horse like a dead fish. I couldn't figure out my diagonals, my canter stunk and I couldn't make this seasoned show and lesson horse set his head for the life of me. "LEFT RIGHT, LEFT RIGHT!!!" Jiwould yell, it just wasn't registering. I left that lesson feeling dejected, hopeless and completely hooked. My horse life would never be the same!
Like I said earlier, Laura was beginning to show at local Tennessee Walking Horse shows. At that time, early 90's, the Walking Horse Shows weren't very big here in Michigan. They usually were held at someones farm where the horses were just tied to trailers. Some of the people at the shows didn't know a thing about what they were doing, while others seemed seasoned and polished. Laura usually cleaned up in the Equitation division and did pretty well in every other class as well. It wasn't long before she was the one to beat. She had people coming up to her all the time with flattering comments on her riding abilities and horse's quality. I began wanting for THAT kind of attention myself. No longer did trail riding seem sufficient, I had no idea that a whole 'nother horse world existed.
I began pestering my mother for riding lessons. "You already have a horse and ride just fine," she'd try to reason with me. I insisted, so after a while, she took me to the nearest horse farm she could think of. This particular farm was a big Morgan Horse facility about 3 miles from my parents house. It had been there all through my mom's childhood, so she knew of it. Though she didn't particularly like Morgans, she assumed that after a few lessons, I'd wisen up and be satisfied with my little horse at home.
I remember my very fist lesson like it was yesterday. I chose to ride hunt seat because I'd never done it before. The barn owner and trainer (we'll call her J) scheduled me for a semi private lesson with the older riders in her barn (13-16 year olds). She stuck me on an older gelding named Merriweather B Dandy and away we went. I flopped around on that poor horse like a dead fish. I couldn't figure out my diagonals, my canter stunk and I couldn't make this seasoned show and lesson horse set his head for the life of me. "LEFT RIGHT, LEFT RIGHT!!!" Jiwould yell, it just wasn't registering. I left that lesson feeling dejected, hopeless and completely hooked. My horse life would never be the same!
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