The second ride was a lot less boneshaking. I had retained at least some of the helpful information and advice offered to me by those with much more experience and sense, and felt myself click a lot more with Sunny while in the saddle. We had had a bond on the ground from the start, but when mounted I was a different person, and, I'm ashamed to say, a slighly over-confident one at that. I was sure my ability to conquer riding school ponies was infallible, and would work on any horse, but the first ride proved me completely and utterly wrong. It made much more sense to accept I wasn't perfect, and doing so led Sunny to trust me. With my parents there to guide and support me, I could relax, and concentrate on getting Sunny listening to me, rather than concentrating on not hitting the ground.
Weeks went on and I worked with Sunny, improving my riding and his manners. He was still a tough ride - strong and willful in canter being the worst offence - but we were making progress. That is, on the flat. When jumping, we may as well have been trying to compete at Grand Prix level with the success we had. He was a dirty stopper, pulling into every fence, refusing the tiniest jumps, and bunny-hopping when given a sharp kick. It was excruciatingly tedious to try and make him relax and jump calmly, and there were days when the frustration got the better of me. Sunny was a former eventer, but years of pure dressage, and months of rest in the field had made him reluctant. I have always been a very keen jumper, and this was a very large obstacle for a young girl to tackle. One day in particular was totally refusal-free, and I was on an enormous high. At the same time, someone had tried to steal Sunny's rug and tore it badly, scaring him and almost destroying the careful groundwork I had done with him. It was a miracle he was still so placid and kind, and made me appreciate how special this horse was.
Sue gave me instructions and tips to help me re-school him, and we made noticeable progress, but he would sometimes take a few steps backwards and revert to his old, cheeky ways. I had to introduce him to every jump, push him on strongly, and let him cop on and stop refusing for no reason. It wasn't the ideal training method, and in summer, he stopped altogether. I tried to jump him over one, simple jump more than forty times, and he wasn't having any of it. Beaten, worn out, and quite upset, I gave him a few months break from jumping. We had him shod, used hoof-treating supplements, schooled him to be more responsive, and did everything we could to improve our chances of actually jumping. My natural instincts to be airborne and to solve problems came into play, and eventually, we got him back on track in autumn.
From there, we went uphill. We improved immensely, and had a total mutual respect that enabled us to keep moving onwards. I started to jump him bareback, which, on an excitable thoroughbred in an un-fenced field, is no mean feat, and even tried bridle-less. In October, we managed to leap 3 feet together, which was just 15cm less than my overall record. This was also the day of my first fall, when he stopped suddenly at 1 metre. November and December brought snow, which Sunny was delighted to canter around in, fully rugged, with me on his back. In January, we went to our first show at my riding school, and earned a respectable clear round in the 60cm class and a few justified stops in the 70s. He never touched a pole all day. Now, in February, we have nearly perfected his canter, making it rhythmical and relaxed, and I have him on an outline most of the time. Bareback and bridle-less jumping is the way to go, with our record standing at about 70cm. We've been in a bit of trouble with jumping again, with the ground in a bit of a messdue to terrible wintry weather, but I am determined to make it through this annoying little phase. We are closer than ever as a team, and I love him more than anything.
I'm just thankful I'll never have to leave Sunny, and this incredible being has changed my life, my riding, and my attitude for the better.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Sunny Side Up :) Part I
Sunny Side Up is, without over-exaggeration, the focal point of my life. He is my personal sun, the reason I get up in the morning, my best friend. I love this horse to pieces. Sunny is a 16hh (approximately) chestnut Thouroughbred gelding, with looks and talent to die for. He loves to be groomed and loved, and especially being fed, and doesn't like rain, being bitten by Darcy, or being ignored. He has a million different quirks and preferences, and it would take me five years to list them all. He is truly the most talented, intelligent, funny, sweet, beautiful horse I have ever laid eyes on, and the most unique horse to ride. How I acquired the luck to be able to ride such a marvellous crature is a mystery.
Sunny and I first met in June 2009. He was my friend Hannah's pony's field mate, and I was Hannah's horse crazed friend. I would accompany Hannah on her trips to see and ride Pippa, and briefly encounter Sunny as we caught her, but that was the extent of our relationship. He was just a horse, me a human. But things soon changed.
Debbie, Sunny's loaner, became pregnant near the end of that year, and Sunny had no-one to ride him. He lived in his field, and became bored, and seeing this prompted an idea to strike me: I could exercise him. With the all-clear from my parents, I asked Sue, his owner, if I could ride and lunge him for a few weeks while Debbie was unable to. My heart exploded with delight when she told me I could.
On March 26, 2010 I got to catch Sunny and groom him for the first time. I was smitten. His coat was velvety soft, and he stood quietly and calmly, because he knew in his special Sunny-ish way that I was nervous and inexperienced. Looking back, it was stupid of me to assume I could handle such completely new, powerful creature, but I was immensely lucky that he wasn't just a thoroughbred - he was Sunny. I lunged him and even got to trot him bareback, being led by Hannah's dad. Sunny was an angel the whole time. I'll never forget that first day with him.
We fell into a pattern of visiting, grooming, lungeing, and parting. He would be kind and overlook my novice mistakes, and I would do my best to please him. It occurred to me, however, that even though he was the perfect gentleman, he was still a powerful horse. I was nervous, but still eager to ride, but because of this realisation, I put it off. One weekend the weather wasn't great. Another, I was too busy. The next, my cousins came to stay. These minor things prevented me from riding, or rather, were the excuses, but eventually, the time came for me to clamber into the saddle I wasn't worthy of.
The first ride was, quite honestly, scary. He trotted too quickly as he sensed my nerves, and he took hold in canter. I was now fully aware of what my horse could do, and I felt slightly over-faced. I would usually just trot around the arena in a ride in lessons, transitions, turns, exercises and the like quite impractical in the group setting. But on my own, I had to do these things. Sue and Debbie coached me, telling me how I should turn my toes in, relax, make nice big loops. I was just concerned about not hitting the ground. He was no bombproof schoolie, and me no eventer, and we were an odd couple. I deemed the ride was eight out of ten, fun but ultimately terrifying. But I still wanted to prove myself, and be able to show his and my full potential.
Sunny and I first met in June 2009. He was my friend Hannah's pony's field mate, and I was Hannah's horse crazed friend. I would accompany Hannah on her trips to see and ride Pippa, and briefly encounter Sunny as we caught her, but that was the extent of our relationship. He was just a horse, me a human. But things soon changed.
Debbie, Sunny's loaner, became pregnant near the end of that year, and Sunny had no-one to ride him. He lived in his field, and became bored, and seeing this prompted an idea to strike me: I could exercise him. With the all-clear from my parents, I asked Sue, his owner, if I could ride and lunge him for a few weeks while Debbie was unable to. My heart exploded with delight when she told me I could.
On March 26, 2010 I got to catch Sunny and groom him for the first time. I was smitten. His coat was velvety soft, and he stood quietly and calmly, because he knew in his special Sunny-ish way that I was nervous and inexperienced. Looking back, it was stupid of me to assume I could handle such completely new, powerful creature, but I was immensely lucky that he wasn't just a thoroughbred - he was Sunny. I lunged him and even got to trot him bareback, being led by Hannah's dad. Sunny was an angel the whole time. I'll never forget that first day with him.
We fell into a pattern of visiting, grooming, lungeing, and parting. He would be kind and overlook my novice mistakes, and I would do my best to please him. It occurred to me, however, that even though he was the perfect gentleman, he was still a powerful horse. I was nervous, but still eager to ride, but because of this realisation, I put it off. One weekend the weather wasn't great. Another, I was too busy. The next, my cousins came to stay. These minor things prevented me from riding, or rather, were the excuses, but eventually, the time came for me to clamber into the saddle I wasn't worthy of.
The first ride was, quite honestly, scary. He trotted too quickly as he sensed my nerves, and he took hold in canter. I was now fully aware of what my horse could do, and I felt slightly over-faced. I would usually just trot around the arena in a ride in lessons, transitions, turns, exercises and the like quite impractical in the group setting. But on my own, I had to do these things. Sue and Debbie coached me, telling me how I should turn my toes in, relax, make nice big loops. I was just concerned about not hitting the ground. He was no bombproof schoolie, and me no eventer, and we were an odd couple. I deemed the ride was eight out of ten, fun but ultimately terrifying. But I still wanted to prove myself, and be able to show his and my full potential.
The First of a Long Series of Posts
Well, hello there :) I thought I'd introduce myself properly. My name is Aoife, I'm a teenager living in Ireland, and I set up this blog to save my mother from the boredom that she inevitably feels (and kindly disguises) any time I start to passionately discuss any equine issues I find important but have absolutely no relevance to her in any way. This blog is dedicated to sharing my horsey opinions, observations, and rants, and hearing those of others in the equestrian community.
I have been riding horses for seven and a half years, and have been working with one very special horsey in particular for nearly eleven months, but I'll elaborate on that in another post. Living in suburbia, it has been tough to cater for my hunger for horses, especially as my parents aren't particularly horsey or wealthy, though they are very supportive of my riding. But we have devised some ingenious ways of dealing with this.
Firstly, I have been taking lessons for donkeys' years in a great equestrian centre where I have learned the basics of horsemanship and equitation. I absolutely love it. The ponies are quirky, the people are fun, the atmosphere is positive, and I am thankful for every lesson I have taken there. Without them, I wouldn't be an equestrian, I would be... a hopeless wreck of a rider.
Secondly, my parents have been amazing. They have done what they can to make my equine experiences pleasurable and plentiful. They're the ones who cart me to lessons every Saturday, take me to as many events - Dublin Horse Show, countless race meets, and a few shows amongst them - as possible, while maintaining a balance. I adore my parents. I obviously wouldn't be alive without them, but that aside, if I had different parents, my equestrian life would be frought with a lot more hardship. They are neither pushy nor lazy, and it's them I have to thank for everything.
Finally, a little beastie (by which I mean 16hh Thoroughbred) has been my anchor over the past 11 months. I say anchor instead of rock because rocks don't do much. They're just there. I say anchor because without Sunny Side Up, I would be floating along, untethered, unhappy, uninterested. He always puts a smile on my face, and any time I see him, whether he's been a star, or refused a million times, I feel a strong, happy, comfortable bond, and know everything is better in his big, ginger presence. He has done wonders for my riding, my confidence, my general horsemanship, and, above all, my happiness. Words cannot express how much this horse means to me, and nothing could stop me loving him.
I hope I haven't bored you to death, dear reader, but this has been an informative introduction into my litle world :)
I have been riding horses for seven and a half years, and have been working with one very special horsey in particular for nearly eleven months, but I'll elaborate on that in another post. Living in suburbia, it has been tough to cater for my hunger for horses, especially as my parents aren't particularly horsey or wealthy, though they are very supportive of my riding. But we have devised some ingenious ways of dealing with this.
Firstly, I have been taking lessons for donkeys' years in a great equestrian centre where I have learned the basics of horsemanship and equitation. I absolutely love it. The ponies are quirky, the people are fun, the atmosphere is positive, and I am thankful for every lesson I have taken there. Without them, I wouldn't be an equestrian, I would be... a hopeless wreck of a rider.
Secondly, my parents have been amazing. They have done what they can to make my equine experiences pleasurable and plentiful. They're the ones who cart me to lessons every Saturday, take me to as many events - Dublin Horse Show, countless race meets, and a few shows amongst them - as possible, while maintaining a balance. I adore my parents. I obviously wouldn't be alive without them, but that aside, if I had different parents, my equestrian life would be frought with a lot more hardship. They are neither pushy nor lazy, and it's them I have to thank for everything.
Finally, a little beastie (by which I mean 16hh Thoroughbred) has been my anchor over the past 11 months. I say anchor instead of rock because rocks don't do much. They're just there. I say anchor because without Sunny Side Up, I would be floating along, untethered, unhappy, uninterested. He always puts a smile on my face, and any time I see him, whether he's been a star, or refused a million times, I feel a strong, happy, comfortable bond, and know everything is better in his big, ginger presence. He has done wonders for my riding, my confidence, my general horsemanship, and, above all, my happiness. Words cannot express how much this horse means to me, and nothing could stop me loving him.
I hope I haven't bored you to death, dear reader, but this has been an informative introduction into my litle world :)
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