September 18, 2008

I am exhausted. We got back to the room a bit ago, and I got to have a little nap. It felt like dead sleep. Now we head back to the place for schmoozing with the press and the talent show.

Charles was a giant help today. He's getting into leading Miss Billie around and seems unfazed enough that she can relax and show her good girl side.

Our competition was today; we survived. Charles took her out while I went to the walk-through meeting. The course was no big deal, and we got to talk with the judges and ask questions. My turn was posted at the very end (3rd from last), so I figured I could watch a few. It's amazing how entering a huge arena with a lone baby horse changes the angel at the end of the lead into something else. Lots of "mistakes" were happening, some from nervous handlers (thank goodness I'm not the only one) and a bunch from nervous whinnying yearlings. About 10 into the list came two really good trips. Nice to see. I want to emulate, right?

Charles met me in the arena with a good report on Billie. After a bit, we headed over to the barn to check on her and start to get ready. That's when I heard the announcement that my ring was doing away with the list, and please just come when you are ready. Crap. So I got dressed in my nicer duds, pulled the boots on, brushed the horse out (no bath, thank you) and we made our way to the same arena we practiced in last night. There is a warm-up area right there and we went in. This was no angel on the end of my lead. She lunged a little, fitting a few bucks in, mostly trotting, mostly to the right. She managed a few piaffs, just to keep me on my toes. The best ones came while I was trotting her around the warm-up area. I then decided to head down for our body conditioning score, since everybody had left the warm-up area and this might be part of our behaviour issue. She seemed to settle a little, but started pawing pawing pawing. What does that mean? She want to roll, roll, roll. In the warm-up area, I finally saw someone else's yearling roll. Hurray! It's not just mine!

Billie stood for about half of our conditioning scoring time. I think they will count off for fidgets. Then we had to wait a bit more to actually go into the ring. I took her outside to the concrete, thinking that this would keep her from wanting to roll. Every time she'd paw, I'd make a right-hand turn (one of our maneuvers). By this time, the butterflies were roiling. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. But I need to present this little filly like we just got offered a million bucks, right?

We headed in for our turn. This started out okay. I went to the first cone; we paused till acknowledged by the judges (I remembered). Then we walked toward the stock trailer to load and unload (our one good trick). Billie was breathing so hard, so I kept saying good girl, good girl. We turned to make the trailer approach, I stepped up, she paused like she does, she sniffed, she put one front hoof, she put the other front hoof, she stopped. She started to heave herself onto the trailer. She stopped. She backed off the trailer. Oops. I invited her again to join me in the trailer. She said "no thank you" and made to back away, a new trick. Oops. So I decided we were nixing the rest of the trailer load/unload. We walked to the next cone. We made our 360 turn to the right. It was not our best, but she was worried. We stopped. This was the time to pick up feet. I picked up LF. I went to pick up LH--she moved. Tried again and got it. I went to her RF. She waddled away, but I got it. She was having none of RH, moving moving moving, so I just ran my hand down her leg to show I know that's what I'm supposed to do. Somewhere in this maneuver, she ended up in the air, but we continued on.

Next, we trot. We are headed over the low jump, then through a serpentine of cones. I think we made it over the jump (maybe she walked while I trotted?) and she was trotting when we entered the cones. Then she was airborn again and having a fit. Continue continue use the energy yada yada. I bailed at this point and decided that we would walk the rest, if we could trot we would. We walked to the box; she was leaning in on me as I was pushing out on her. She kind of turned the 90 degrees, kind of backed and turned into the chute. Definitely walked out of the chute. We were supposed to trot a curved set of poles over to the exit poles. We started to trot, and she started to leap, so we finished with a walk.

I was in tears as we exited, not in disappointment, I don't think, but sheer terror. Charles took her over from me and she quietly led back to the barn.

Later, another gal told me that they gave up on the list since so many had to scratch, not being able to get to the arena in the first place. I'm shocked. At least we made it there. I spoke with one of our judges, Ken McNabb, and he told me to consider that at least I was out there working to make the mustang accessible. It doesn't matter how my trip went. He said some other things, too, to help me to see where I should be proud of my job done, and I am. It's nice to have it put in perspective: an untouched animal 100 days ago trusts me quite a bit today. It's not perfect, but I have no experience and am learning as I go. It's really a great thing.