It’s a stunning evening in early spring. Birds are chirping, trees rustle in gentle winds, and the dying sunlight casts long shadows into the flawless footing of the arena. Upon bringing C in from turnout, M notices he is fresh and decides that popping him on the longe might not be a bad idea. Under the orange light of the sunset, reflected in his copper coat, C canters and bucks and farts in a relatively civilized manner as M coos him praises.
A truck and trailer slowly turn the corner. C has never seen a truck and trailer before. Instinctually he bolts in the opposite direction; M digs her heels in and tries not to lose her balance despite being dragged by a 1300 pound 16.2 hand-high behemoth. C realizes that not even an inch before him lies a mounting block, which he flies over, majestic and deer-like. On the backside of this ‘jump’ he tries to kick out, nearly falling flat-out on his face. M screams, “Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen?” at the top of her lungs while the pony clubbers in the neighboring arena look on in a mixture of horror and awe. The majestic baby OTTB recovers his balance and fancy-trots as though nothing happened.
As M leads her horse to the upper jumping arena, trainer (N) says, “I saw a chestnut streak down there. Was that C?”
Yes. Yes it was.
C proceeds to be angelic under saddle and his canter feels like clouds.
Ah, the sweet art of give & take.