A Two-fer

Merging these two lessons into one because they kind of build on each other and will roll into my next lesson, which will be separated into two posts.

I had a late afternoon lesson a few weeks ago that was slightly time-crunched because we were trying to make it to the Grand Prix up in Wellington that night. Fuego was a tinge spicy to start out but channeled it into some great trot work. I showed Trainer T how the extension was looking. She asked how much I had to use my leg to get it, and I told her it wasn't especially hard once he got into a good rhythm. On that particular day, he was stiffer through his neck and jaw, so we didn't get the suppleness that I wanted, which my trainer made a note of. It's certainly something that can be developed over the next couple of months. From what I remember, the canter was unremarkable. He's a complete couch.

Over the jumps, things just kind of fell apart, I guess. Not on his end. He was calm and steady through everything. Me on the other hand? I was struggling to keep it together. I think I fatigued myself very quickly through integrating the extended trot in the flatwork because for the life of me, I could not keep my legs wrapped around him. Poor Fuego took it all in stride. I think he's one of those horses who, when you're really just out of hit, he figures it's easier to just play along rather than get upset. He chipped to everything and barely picked his feet up. I think we hold a record for the most faults in a course of cross rails. Why work if you have to be an adult babysitter?

His usual m.o.: barely tracking up on approach

There was one line that I just could not get a good pace through. Well, the pace wasn't bad perse, but I couldn't get the right striding. I eventually had some decent distances through it, so we called it a day and headed to the Grand Prix.

The following week, I had my normal lesson time again. Fuego was much more sluggish than the prior week. Like I had to beg him to canter. Over fences, we started out literally perfect. Trainer T said we were perfect. We went through one of the longer lines in the ring like he's done it his entire life. Even took a longer spot to the out fence.

Then things actually, really fell apart compared to the prior week. There were two riders who entered the ring as I was lessening. I've ridden with them in the ring before, and they're always courteous, so this isn't a dig at them at all. There's a turn coming out of one of the lines that's a little bit tight. We've done it multiple times turning to the left. Now it was reversed, and doing it to the right is a lot harder because I struggle to support on the right. As I went through the first line, the two other riders were right in my ride path, so I had to cut off the turn and just could not make it to the fence on a good line. I circled twice to get back on track, but from there, it was difficult to keep him together.

Does this even count as picking his feet up?? Feels like a glorified canter stride.

I'm not sure what happened, but after that first attempt through the course, he had zero brakes. It hasn't been very long for us, but homeboy has never fully locked his jaw and taken off with me. He's been extremely reliable on the backside of the fence thus far, and I panicked when I lost that. The typical response from trainers in the past has been to hard halt and stay straight after the fence. So I did that, and directly afterwards, Trainer T made it clear that I cannot do that. She understood why I made that choice, but Fuego is not a horse you can do that on without it causing more anticipation in the long run.

And boy, oh, boy did that move truly screw me over for a bit. He got overwhelmed and went to his usual side pass approach to fences, but this time, he was coming in so crooked that it would have been irresponsible to make him jump at such a weird angle. Circles and circles until he was straight enough that we could get over things. From there, it was just about me redeeming myself and building the trust back again. Shockingly, letting him take me to the fences and not fighting managed to make him settle down, even if he was literally barreling at them. He progressively started slowing himself down. Then started settling after each fence on his own (again, still very strong on the approach, but at least his brain was halfway there). At that, we quit for the day, then began the long process of me trying to make sure he didn't suddenly hate me.

Oh no, a raised tail! Wait, no, that's because of a fly. Can I get this horse back?? Yes, pls, thnx.

Shouldn't come as any surprise that he literally did not care about, uhhh, any of that. Once we were back at the barn, the place of chilled carrots and cookies and scratches in all his itchiest spots, Fuego was fully focused on getting his usual post ride pamper.

Anyways, the plan now is to try jumping him bareback sometime in the near future.