Born That Way

I have at least three Facebook friends dealing with barfing children. Folks are chiming in with advice. I'm holding back because my gut reaction is to say a)Ewwww and b) get in your car and drive far far away in the opposite direction.

Animals won't make me sick.

Parents who fail to quarantine their sick children deserve to wait on me when their crotch droppings get me sick. They should have to fetch my Slushies, pay for my Kindle and iTunes downloads, and any other online shopping I choose to do. I'll just tell them Smartpak donates a percentage of their earnings to schools.

My dog isn't welcome at family gatherings. But he won't make you sick or tell you you're fat or take over the tv. His paws aren't sticky. You didn't have to buy him a gift.

My brother-in-law and sister-in-law are bad pet parents. I asked over the holiday how many dogs they had. Apparently they got rid of one of them because it was too hyper around the children. My mother-in-law repeated in all seriousness: "they just had to." I just had to remind myself to breathe. This is what training kids to dispose of animals looks like. I spend so much time around animal-centric people, I forget folks think like this. "They just had to". I think all they just have to do is a) quit acquiring new animals and b) fuck off.

I wish it were socially acceptable to act as grossed out about children as people act about my animals. They'll pet my dog twice and then they get all, okay that's enough, he can leave me alone now. So I make it happen! Can you imagine if I said about a persons's kid: "Okay, that's enough, get him away from me now. I'm good"? Usually my face is saying this at about a thousand decibels, anyway.

When I find out someone is pregnant (gravid) my first thought is, "I hope they don't ask me to hold it. Gross" Once the kid is verbal and doesn't stare at me blankly I'm good. Until then it's: "I like your stuffed varmint." Blank stare. "Look at the bird in the tree." Blank stare. "Auntie Witty Horse is like the witch from Hansel and Gretel, only without a candied house." Blank stare.

I wonder whose carbon footprints are bigger: horse owners or parents? I need to decide whether to feel apologetic or superior.

Crutches or stepping stones?

Every now and then I change up my gear to see what will help me ride better. Ultimately my money is better spent on lessons than what might be a quick fix. But some things do just work better. I don't always know when I pull the trigger on my Dover Saddlery cart or my Smartpak cart and click "complete purchase." Usually I'm humbled when I get the item and realize I just need to straight-up ride better. I have some things that didn't help me. There are tack swaps for that kind of thing.

After doing some slinking around online, I got the idea to try lightweight (composite) stirrups. I have a bad habit of letting my weight come out of my heels occasionally, and this plus a bouncy horse = feet are all the way home in the stirrups. Not attractive, functional, or safe. Especially not safe. Duly creeped out by the possibility of a bad accident, I bought safety stirrups. Cool. But my feet were still doing their thing and not behaving. Could lightweight stirrups be an improvement?

So far, so good. Now, I know George Morris wants me in a classic fillis iron. I want to meet him and have him sign my book and offer to tip my flask into his coffee at an epic clinic. But the lighter weight stirrups are just easier. My feet stay in the same spot, where they should be, the entire ride. The lighter weight causes them to, er, I'm trying to think of a way to describe it using physics....I don't know, they just don't swing the fuck all over the place like my other irons. Now, I am continuing to improve myself by pushing weight into my heels and keeping my legs long. The stirrups meet me halfway. My trainer has me riding in the fillis stirrups occasionally, so I keep a feel for both.

So tell me, what equipment has helped you and your horse? You don't have to register or anything to leave a comment (what a pain), so don't be shy. What did you buy that didn't help (help me save some money here!)

War Horse - Stories Within Stories

On the heels of yesterday's post about movies, I saw War Horse today. I'm not going to spoil it (I got spoiled). It has the usual themes, lovable protagonists, great scenery. The dude who plays Joey's owner is pretty good-looking. That gave me pause. Wait? How old is he supposed to be? Am I a pervert? I got all distracted by that and then lost myself in pretty horsey scenes.

The dude who plays his Dad (drunken, damaged) resembles the father from a Knight's Tale. Maybe it's the same actor? Or is the old guy who turns up later the Knight's Tale guy? No matter. The film, though it's designed to stir your emotions, does not have a romance subplot shoe-horned in there! Yay! Damn refreshing, if you ask me.

If you have to take a trip to the can mid-movie (I typically do but didn't today), don't miss the part with the plucky young French girl. Squeeze your knees together, and do your Kegels, or you'll miss some of the best lines of the movie. Adorbs! I don't use that word often and I know it's a stupid word, but no other word would do.

My eyes watered but there was no tear spillage. I'm a movie crier, so today was a one-off. I have ugly-cried at a movie within the past year and didn't want to repeat THAT performance.

The most saddening thing is that, to me, horses marching into war parallel the marching of horses into slaughter. So it follows, then, that anyone crying at War Horse would be anti-slaughter? And if you're anti-slaughter, you shouldn't be eating meat? I have some ideas that reconcile these themes. They don't involve strict vegetarianism or anything. It's a topic for another day.

All I Ever Got Confused About I Learned from Movies

Last night I was watching a really gross romantic comedy while I waited for a funnier movie to start on another channel. Love, love, love. All these movies I've been watching since childhood revolve around love. This indoctrinated me with some messy ideas like "the surly guy secretly has a heart of gold", and "you jump, I jump" and "love conquers all." Insert archetypes as needed. When I entered the dating world my expectations were crazy, just crazy.

Horse books/movies do it too. In National Velvet, Velvet is coached by the curmudgeonly Mickey Rooney. In The Black Stallion, Alec is coached by the still adorably grouchy Mickey Rooney. In Sylvester, a grizzled old coot is caught schooling haute ecole in the moonlight.

It's all very wax on, wax off.

(Mr. Miyagi using chopsticks to demonstrate how to perform a half-halt)


It wasn't long before I came to associate crabby/crusty with knowledge. But sometimes under the crusty exterior there's just even more manure.

The entertainment value, of course, is infinite. There was the barn owner who thought ground manners were optional and wanted me to do turn in/ turn out of her (Brontosaurus Equus) warmblood herd. One day she admitted, in hushed tones, that even she was a little afraid of the worst offender. There was the bra-optional lady who made me ride in a western saddle with miles-long stirrups that just wouldn't adjust. There was the hoarder obsessed with goats.

There's even one I've never met - a horse trainer in my area that used to own my dog before he found his way into our home. Have you ever seen a hundred pound dog cringe at everyday things like brooms and hoses? I have. So, my fate has been sealed. I'm already a bit eccentric and crusty too I guess. Next stop, crazy! If I ever cross paths with that walking turd of a trainer, I will go crazy. Foaming at the mouth, get-in-the-ring crazy. Anything less, I imagine, would be un-equestrian.

Are You Sitting Down?

Where do we go when we no longer wish to jump, but our childhood jumping background has us going into 2-point or some bastardization thereof? One man's fetal crouch is another man's 2 point! A lot of reriders have to master the whole sit yo ass down technique! You're not careening towards a jump, or careening at all for that matter. Not much good comes from leaning forward. That's where the mane is if you want to grab it, but the handy dandy sit yo ass down and ride keeps you from HAVING to grab mane in the first place. How do we learn it?

Longe lessons. Difficult to find, quite valuable to building a good seat, and the way all riders should be started. For every soul on a message board who proudly blowhards: "I start all my riders on the longe", they sure are hard to find.

Self-longing. Self-lunging? Self-longing is when I'm like wtf why is my life not more awesome? Self-lunge-ing. Round pens have never been better! I spent some goodly time in the round pen with a grab strap willing myself to "sit yo ass down."

What if I have neither longe lesson nor round pen, Witty Horse? Glad you asked. In this case you are down to one option. You must hire Suze Orman to yell at you while you ride. She is the scariest person I've ever seen. She will burst a blood vessel as she shrills: "That SADDLE cost you $2000 PLUS interest PLUS several months' LATE fees! You must SIT on it and RIDE. But you can't. Get off. Just, just, get off. You can't afford this. Sell everything, move into your car, and know your credit score. Stick around, because in a few minutes I'm going to pretend to say something inspirational even though I just melted your dreams with my words."

Happy riding!

Routine

The post I planned to put up today is going to simmer a tad bit longer. Had a routine MRI which called for a routine Ativan, and I'm not in good form. Something about being all sedated and in an enclosed machine had me feeling spooked even though I had no reason. My thoughts turned to our horses and how much they trust us (to varying extents).

A dental float - an act of caring - seems invasive. An act of betrayal - being asked to step onto a trailer like so many show days, trail ride weekends - feels routine. They never truly know what is intended for them. In a world of such uncertainty, I'd spook because the mounting block had been moved, too.

What Your Farrier Really Wants for Christmas

Your farrier wants peace and quiet. I could watch someone trim hooves all day; it's almost hypnotic. And yes, you're there to chaperone the horses at their regularly-scheduled pedi. But here's where the nail salon analogy ends.

Your farrier most likely wants to shoot the breeze, get the work done and get on with their life. Shoot the breeze does not include being a therapist for venting about barn drama, or any other kind of drama. You can chat, converse, but don't dump on them. How do you know if you're dumping? If your diatribe lasts longer than two hooves, you're dumping. If your monologue could be described as a rant, you're dumping. If the subject matter is something you'd prefer they'd not repeat but you're hollering loud enough the horse thinks he's being chewed out, you're dumping.

I'm not saying you have to be this happy:



That's Newt Gingrich's wife, by the way. I think my achieving that expression of frozen euphoria would require a trip to the derm AND the pharmacy. Merry Christmas to me!

Clothes Horse

As I mentioned previously, I'm partial to all disciplines. Ponykins is currently in a dressage saddle, in which I work tirelessly to attain an independent seat (it's coming!). But I've also asked Santa for a western saddle, and look forward to bombing around in that. It's all good. Okay, maybe not all good. Here are a few things I find heinous:





Showmanship pants. I cant look at those and breathe at the same time. Sure, they look nice on our model here, but that's a model with a long-ass torso. Those of us less vertically gifted do not find this comfortable. I assure you that I don't require some kind of pants/corset/strapless bra combo to show my horse in-hand. Pants don't need to come up past my waist. I'm having flashbacks to Beverly Hills 90210 now. Let's step back in time.



Western shirt. Why a large collar? I have a feeling the phrase "catch the judge's eye" is lurking somewhere close. You know what else would catch the judge's eye?



This fellow. Same collar, same verse, worse than the first. I want to wear a western hat and chaps, but not at the expense of looking like a Halloween costume.




Recently Kerrits thought they'd dink around with tradition in the English show world, and THIS hit the market. I love me some futuristic-looking helmets, but don't mess with what should be a smartly-tailored jacket. This looks like it was designed by a physical education teacher or something, which is so wrong because they don't think riding is exercise, anyway. We'll quit trying to convince you riding is hard work and you keep your hands off our gear.

What did I leave out? Most equestrian attire is very fashionable. It's no accident that the horsey look shows up on the runways every autumn. What can I say? It's just another way the horse thing is effortlessly fabulous.

Tasty!

Which of your horse's rations have you tasted? How was it? Better or worse than you thought?

I've only tasted Equine Senior...not bad, not bad. What I enjoyed most was the day I licked a brand new mineral salt block. It was clean, so I thought, why not? It was divine! Ponykins was in the cross ties at the time so I felt like I was being greedy. We enjoyed tasting bits of it together. Probably gross, but it's good to know what they're tasting. I avoided the parts he licked, which wasn't hard because he drooled all over his part. Maybe I'll make him a horsey margarita for his birthday: a bucket of apple juice lined with bits of salt.

Speaking of buckets, keep them clean! Clean buckets = more water drinking = less risk of colic. No being lax about it just because the weather is cold right now. No, they're not "getting lots of water by eating snow." Make sure the water is clean and not frozen. No, they shouldn't have to break through a layer of ice to get to it. This is horsemanship, not ice fishing.

My guy is finicky about any kind of new food or treat; he only recently decided sugar cubes were okay! He especially adores mints. In a few weeks here, candy canes will be on clearance and he will be guaranteed an endless supply of them. Those of us with hard candy-addict horses know the entertainment that goes along with watching them light up at the sound of crackling plastic. They stand a HAND taller! I'm going to send peppermint candies to my favorite rescue. I'm not able to write them a big check, or a small check, really. But the rescues will have treats! Because they deserve it just as much.

Horses are for consuming food, not becoming food.

Please don't make a match

Omg Omg Omg.

Three days into posting here at Witty Horse and I'm already dipping into Craiglist for fodder. I'm not going to blast the person writing the ad here. Not in this case, anyway. I'm not interested in going on a classified ads witch-hunt. But I'm going to write about this disturbing juxtaposition of ads posted within days of each other.

First, a witty story! Around this time last year I found myself chest-deep in the throes of a Seasonal Affective Disorder meltdown. Took off to visit a friend for a weekend of shopping, drinking, and snarking. My (non-horsey) pal and I took a cruise through Craigslist personal ads in search of her first ex-husband. We'd already polished off a bottle of red when we found Tripod Box Guy. He had his own place, he was looking for a lady friend, and like the others he had been thorough enough to post a photo of his manly bits. Lurking in the background of the photo of his junk was a pile of junk. Proudly atop the pile of junk was the box that once housed the tripod he was now using to photograph himself.

"Why, someone's in a hurry!" I commented. Oh, Tripod Box Guy. It could have been a match made in heaven. Haste makes waste.

Below are two ads I hope don't make a match. He looks like a sweet guy, and he's priced to (meet a bad end) er, move.

"Buckskin gelding. $1. I am pregnant and don't have time to ride my well broke older gelding. He stands tied,worms, takes vaccines well,trims hooves and loads just fine. I've been told he is a poa, he looks more like a small quarter to me. Buckwheat is utd on all vaccines and worming. He is due for a trim but isn't bad at all. He has a lot of get up and go for an older horse. He will keep up with the younger horses. I frequently take him on 14 mile rides. I don't know his age. The vet says he's around 20 or so. I've had lots of kids on him, I don't recommend him for a beginner though. He does have a little buck if a horse behind him is biting his butt. He has never thrown anyone however.Make an offer. Please don't email. Text or call xxx-xxx-xxxx with any questions. Thanks"




On the next page of ads we have this little gem:

"Unwanted horses. looking for anyones unwanted horses looking to fill my pasture i raise and train horses if your looking for a good home for your horses this is the place email me or call xxx-xxx-xxxx thanks"

I want these two to get together even less than I want my friend to meet Tripod Box Guy. Ugh. Fort Dodge, Iowa Craigslist.

It's a Shame About Rae

Let's have a bit of a chat about Jaci Rae Jackson, college rodeo competitor, student, and killer of winning Southern Arkansas University rodeo horse Credit Card.

First off, her name. Nothing good can come of giving your child the middle name Rae. "Jaci" is borderline sketch, and Rae drags it right down into mugshot caption material. A classic Elizabeth or even the overused Marie would have been better.

Anyone who loves animals or even has a semblance of right and wrong knows her ass should be nailed to the wall for this. Variations on a theme can be found everywhere, brainstorming as to how she should pay for the death of Credit Card. The whole thing, really, leaves me so disgusted that it sends me back in time somewhere far away. Somewhere dark, vindictive and feral. I'm less County Sheriff and more Regina George. Jaci Rae, prepare to be Mean Girl'ed.



Who exactly told you it was acceptable to shave off your eyebrows and draw them back on with a brown Sharpie? And a bit of concealer around the eye area would camouflage any dark circles. All of us horsewomen who've ever been up late tending to a colicky horse know that. I'm not sure what exactly you know about staying up late with horses, but I hear it involves dismembering them.

Speaking of things that need to be put back together, what's going on with your hair? There are parts that look like they're trying to be straight and parts that look like they were scrunched up together into ringlets with dime-store gel. Which is it? It would be better to commit to either straight OR curly, and make the texture more uniform. You know, uniform like that hot little orange number you have on.

Your facial structure is okay, but do remember that we get the face we deserve. Things like sleep help a person to age more gracefully. With that in mind, we can only guess how quickly you'll go downhill, seeing as we're not sure how you sleep at night.



Is socks with flip flops a look that is encouraged in lockup, or was that a sartorial invention all your own? Maybe go for something more classic that commands respect, like Crocs.

Look, we've all had to endure rejection from a guy. The only difference is we hugged a horse and we cried it out while the barn cats watched, instead of having a horse murdered while we watched. Get the distinction?

Welcome to Witty Horse!

I don’t have any stories about my childhood horse – there wasn’t one. I don’t say that to weep at my parents’ not producing a be-ribboned pony on Christmas morning. I say that because having had to scrape for horse time, period, made me judgmental of people who take them for granted and screw things up. I don’t have sympathy for old-horse-dumping, non-fence-fixing, ignorant wastes of oxygen. I’m lucky enough to own a horse after years of reading any horse book and riding any horse I could find. Books drier than a lazy BYB’s water tank. Slow horses, fast horses, fugly horses, and even a few fabulous ones.

Now we’re on the edge of slaughter plants reopening here, and the two camps are getting fired up. The horses suffer from what I call “overbreeding and undertrying.” The overbreeding has been discussed at length, so I’ll elaborate on what I mean by “undertrying”. When people don’t try harder to do better and be better, horses suffer. It pisses me off so much when people don’t want to hear about something awful being done to animals because, as they say, “I can’t handle thinking about it.” If you can’t handle the mere thought of it, then it must be awful enough for you to work to stop it. Donate money, write a letter, or do something other than stick your uber-delicate head in the sand!

If slaughtering horses were less cruel I’d maybe support it. But it’s not, it never has been, and pro-slaughter people aren’t exactly busting their asses trying to make it less cruel. They’ve had AGES to devise ways to make it less cruel. Would it kill them to give Temple Grandin a quick call? Or have they never heard of her and merely thought the HBO movie starring Claire Danes was lost footage from My So-Called Life? Maybe they were waiting for Jordan Catalano to show up.

“Ummmm….do what now?”

I think they’re just too lazy. Laziness leads to cruelty. Just because you’re too lazy to try to figure it out doesn’t mean it can’t be done. How about sedation of some kind throughout the transport and killing processes? The pro-slaughter people just tell everyone how necessary slaughter is, without changing their systems to make the whole thing easier to condone. We’re not asking for glitter and kittens here. We’re just asking them to stop putting out their cigarettes on our collective arms, with the awful methods they claim are appropriate for slaughtering horses. So, by default, I am anti-slaughter.

Nobody is looking forward to the possibility of people here in the US eating horse meat. The brain trust that brought us Turducken is probably going to attempt to stuff a cow with a horse that has been stuffed with a pig. Can you imagine McDonalds with horsey happy meals? What kind of toy would you even put in there? The next Helicopter Mom who starts clutching her pearls about germs in the McDonalds feral child refuge, er, play area is getting an earful from me. “That germy slide, and the booger I saw him eat, aren’t so bad. There’s this stuff called Bute…”

Maybe they’ll start regulating drugs like they love to regulate everything else. What if, and this is a big tin-foil-hat What If, but….. what if they got all Minority Report about it? What if they regulated the drugs horses were allowed to be given, in the event that they may someday enter the food supply? What if the horse meat industry eclipsed what we currently know as our horse industry?

As for the current state of the horse industry, I’m not much for discipline-bashing. We’ve been over that before. You can train a horse for competitive pole dancing for all I care, just use common sense and don’t be abusive. Also, when I hear the word “headset” I get the vapors and put on my fullseat judge-y pants. Headsets are for pilots and World of Warcraft addicts.

Nice headset.

There’s so much to snark at, so much to learn, and so much that needs to be done to improve the lives of horses everywhere. There are many topics to explore, and many computer screens to destroy. Let’s do this.

I'll be here every weekday with witty, horsey banter. I believe in spelling, grammar, and the pursuit of excellence. I don't know it all but I want to learn and be corrected if I'm in error. Because we're all in this together - the obsessive drive for excellence in horsemanship. See ya tomorrow!