Larry Kilroy spoke to us during our Fox Trotter meeting. We need more riders in our local shows. If I can get riders, I’ll get classes in more shows. Will all of you pledge to ride?” At the time, I was so excited to have a new horse that I would have pledged anything.. I want to do it all. I took the pledge.
Summer heat and high humidity is here. I hate it. It erases my outdoors desire. However, I pledged…
The Greater Kansas City Arabian Association has a show this weekend. It has two classes for fox trotters, classes where I would be showing against multiple world champions in rail classes. There is another class we could enter, a Western Pleasure class where you get to canter. I might try that one too. Three classes might be enough. In my old days, two rail classes in which to show wouldn’t be worth the effort. I am a changed (and older) woman now.
Maybe there would be enough fast Arabians that would match Fancy’s normal too fast canter. Yes, three classes!
I gave Fancy a bath at the stable. She would dry in the trailer. “Perfect. Clean. Horse.” Hmmmmm, I might have put too much Cowboy Magic detangler in her mane. So what if her mane looks a little oily!
I arrived at the grounds. My classes are in the second half after a 30 minute break. I arrived early enough, I hoped, to be saddled up and get into the show arena during that thirty minute break. I want Fancy to experience the arena at a walk before we “enter at the fox trot!”
I’m used to this life. I show all the time. Sadly, my brain took a sabbatical vacation upon arrival. I had half brain and half fizz. Where to park? Where to park without backing? There! There! A pull in-spot under shade trees. I might not have to back out when it’s time to leave. Whew! I’m perfectly relaxed.
Fancy exits from the trailer. She is perfectly dry with an oily mane. I tie her up. I get the hay bag out of the trailer, I tie it up for her. I take a look at her before going to show office. Hmmm, she might get her lead rope wrapped around the trailer door handle. I move Fancy. I move the hay bag. It looks good! I get my purse. Two senior guys are sitting next door to me, “While I’m gone if my horse gets into any trouble. Save her”. Both of them agreed. I love horse show neighbors!
I had parked as far from the show office as possible. One senior neighbor guy told me it was a long way. I looked and replied, “Holy Moly, that’s about a mile.” Neighbor guy said. “Maybe one third mile.” The other guy told me, “Take your money and get food while you are there.” “Oh no, I have to ride my horse! I can’t eat!”
I left truck, trailer and Fancy and arrived at show office in fairly good shape. I walk inside looking for the sign-up form. My brain awakens and does a little brain scream. I’m not carrying Fancy’s coggins papers! Without the proof that she does not have that disease, I can’t sign up. The office people smile in shared sadness. I leave the show office and walk the 3 miles back to Fancy, the truck and the coggins papers. I yell at the two gentlemen and tell them that they should have noticed I was not carrying the document. They smile ruefully at me and do not admit that they are at fault. I wonder if they were thinking “Mental Case. Is she dangerous?”
I walk the five miles back to the show office. The humidity has sucked out half my body liquid. My coggins is approved. Ginny does the signing up for me. She assumes one class. Then she asks for money. Money? My checkbook failed to come with me to the show office! I never carry but a few dollars cash. Ginny sez she will just pay for me and I can get her the money. No wait! I want to sign up for three classes. I tell her the class numbers. The cost is $36. I can’t even blame my senior neighbors for the checkbook gaffe. Good Lord! The kind Ginny takes my class entry form. She trusts me to pay.
I walk the ten miles back to Fancy, Truck and Trailer. I claw out a water bottle and gulp it down in three seconds. I don’t tell my neighbors about the missing checkbook. They might call the sanity police to remove me from the show grounds..
Finally it is time to saddle up Francy. Saddle pad goes on and then the saddle. We pop away from trailer move around. Three circles and a canter are enough that I can tighten the girth three times enough to keep the saddle on top of the Fancy instead of pitching me to the ground.
I get the bridle. One set of ribbons is attached to the bridle. Where is the matching ribbons? I look in the trailer…no. I look in the truck and what do I see! My fancy saddle pad with the numbers already pinned on. Oh Lordy. I forgot to put my beautiful blue turquoise saddle pad over my regular saddle pad. It matches my beautiful turquoise shirt and boots. The saddle is already on Fancy. What the heck. I decide to leave everything as is. I still have the turquoise ribbons, boots and show shirt to make the judge gasp in admiration. However pinning the numbers on a saddle pad is difficult for me. Small hands with one arthritic thumb getting the safety pins through the saddle pad just right to get the number pinned on is hell.
I see the missing ribbons. I get a clamp. I have hair clamps that work for clamping the ribbon to Fancy’ mane. Wait. The dratted thing won’t open. I’m doomed.
I get the numbers off the fancy saddle pad. I have one number and the safety pin ready to install. Miraculously, I did it. I got the other safety pin ready to secure the other side of the number. Hell. Damn. I can stick it in, but not bring it out. Hellfire.
Time to find hero Lane Patterson. I have my numbers and one ribbon. Hero Lane gets my numbers secured on my pad. For several reasons, we decide I don’t need the other ribbon. I’m ready to go! The horror of show life is done. Now I’m riding Fancy.
Life is great when I’m riding. We walk around and go into the warm-up arena. Fancy has some fizz looking at the other horses and being in a different world. Fizz for Fancy is defined as a little more go with some brace in her body which shows up as a “pacy” gait, She is paying attention to my signals. She is under control. There is no spooking at anything. Praise God!
It’s almost half time. We make it to the entry gate with zero problems. Fancy is a million dollar horse. We ride around that arena at all speeds, both directions.
We exit. Fancy and I go to trailer and I tie her up. I walk the eight miles to the show office with my checkbook. Ginny tells me we can’t enter the walk, trot, canter class since we are not going to do the walk or trot gait. There is another class that has “optional” gaits which I could enter. It is later in the class lineup. I decide against entering. My energy level might not make it. I pay and walk the ten miles back to the trailer.
I place in the two classes where I should. It’s over and I survived! I untack the million dollar horse and let her eat the hay. I get vendor food…fried pie! (Only five miles one way). I’m in heaven. I find an old friend who I haven’t talked to in years. We gossip about what our other friends are doing. Life is good!
Recovery took three days!