dancinghorse | Whoosh!

Maybe next week will finally quiet down?

She said plaintively.

Spot is here. That's Ch. Winbucks Triplet to you. Also Tattoo or Too, but the name she answers to is Spot. She's a Cardigan Welsh Corgi, she'll be three years old this year, she weighs around 35 pounds (average for a girl is about 25--she's sizey, which is good because Kaz is 40lbs), her color is brindle and white (actually she's colored a lot like Tenshi), she got her championship as a puppy (i.e. she's a beautiful example of a Cardigan), she's a Hereditary Writer's Dog (her litter-sister is Jennifer Roberson's Rosie, and it was Jennifer who gave the referral), she's had two litters of puppies but had major trouble with delivery so it was decided that she should go to a pet home.

She flew to Phoenix Tuesday evening. It was a bit of a saga to get a flight for her (thank you, 9/11), but once she got on the plane (sadly stressed, her oldmom said), things went smoothly. She was off the plane right away and by 20 minutes after landing, I had signed for her and taken her out to stretch her legs. Let's have a round of applause for Delta Dash service. My mom and dad had come with me--they have a big car with a three-body trunk--and that worked well: we put her crate in the trunk and she traveled home in the back seat either on my lap or curled up next to me. One thing about retired showgirls, they know how to travel. By the time we'd made the two-hour drive home, she'd charmed the socks off my parents as well as me.

Mind you I am not a Dog Person. Horses yes, cats yes. Dogs in general are a noisy nuisance with gross personal habits and a sycophantic approach to social interaction. I love my own dogs but can take or leave dogs as a species.

Spot puts me in very real danger of becoming a Dog Person. Or maybe the proper term is Spot Person.

So, there has been a lot of lap time for the princess. She settled in very quickly, made instant best f riends with Kaz, achieved detente with Shadow the elderly Dobie, established Her Spot at the other end of the sofa while I work (Trouble, after Negotiations and Discussions, got the back of the sofa), and has made herself at home. She loves the yard. The horses are to be sternly kept in line, rabbits get chased out at top speed, and she's announced to the world that this is HER YARD!

So now all the new arrivals are here. It's time-consuming to acclimate them to the various groups, and the changes in routine take time for everyone to adapt to. So it's a good thing I'm still In Between Books. Though I have been doing background work for the next one.

Night before last, we got another gullywasher--nearly an inch of rain--so we're back to ankle-deep mud again. This has been the wettest month for us in years, and believe me that's a good thing. They're referring to current conditions as a millennial drought. Rain is badly needed.

However this did mean some fuss with lessons, since my arena is all muddy again. After some backing and forthing, Joni and I borrowed Serena's arena for keed and Capria, after which we came back here and Pan got her first work session in at least eight years on familiar territory.

The other arena is crazy city for my guys--they can see the rest of the herd on top of the hill but not get at them, and it's open and exposed. It has lovely footing (pea gravel over sand) which benefits from being a little wet, compared to my current slippery mudhole. I saddled both horses and ponied keed over there, handed him off to Joni, then sat with Capria for a while as he had his Teacher Torture. Capria was mellow and content. Once I got on her however she started to get wired. By the time my lesson came around, she had attempted one ballotade, was jigging and screaming, and generally being a pill.

And that was a very good thing, because it let Joni address a Lot of backstory. Twelve and a half years. Capria winds me up, then I wind her up, then she winds up some more, then we're Outta There.

So, the first instruction to me was, "Relax your ankles." Then piece by piece, I had to relax the rest of my body. Outside rein steady and in contact. Inside rein could lift as needed (but not pull back). Abs toned, hip f lexors open to allow her to raise her forehand and come up and through. Engage her hindquarters and she can't get rushy or freaky--she's too busy carrying herself and too balanced to get upset. Keep her evenly balanced within the aids, no leaning or shoulder-throwing. Extreme tact with aids. Ask her inside hind to step into the outside rein, until she softens and stretches, then do lengthening and shortening of frame. When this happens without change of attitude from long to short, ask for trot. Repeat. Keep posting slow. Don't grab her face when she takes off. (We had one more episode of Airs when keed started to roll, Joni ran toward him, and Capria went Straight Up. I locked up, of cuss, but unlocked quickly enough that she calmed down, then we could carry on.)

It went well--though she had one serious temper tantrum going through the gate at the end, having failed in her nefarious plot to reduce us both to galloping hysteria. But I had found the aid Joni's been trying to get me to find for some time now--back of the thigh, which allows the horse to sit down and raise her front end and stay balanced no matter what's happening--and her tantrum didn't get anywhere. Go Me.

Keed, be it noted, behaved perfectly through all of this. He had Joni riding him, that was the difference.

We rode back from this in time to rescue Sue, who was struggling with Pan. Pan's very big and mentally very strong, and there was Insecurity going on. Their lesson was in groundwork and communication. It went well and they started to get it together. They are a good match, look good together and Pan is a nice, calm mare. She just hasn't worked in eight years (talk about poor work-study habits--she doesn't have any), and she's out of practice.

We did ascertain that even in her unmuscled, pasture-potato state, keed's Big Horn fits her pretty well. The plain Quarter Horse bars saddle Sue has is just this side of pinching her withers. She needs the extra-wide one, full bars with the 7-inch gullet. But that's no surprise. She's a Lipp and she's big.

And now I have a Spotty Girl at my feet, and am waiting for smoemeth and wojsvenwoj to get in from Green Valley--they flew in last night. Which is a good opportunity for, say, a Nap. Pook is begging me to ride him, but the arena is too slippery and he's a little too full of himself to trust on the road (which is also slippery). As much as I want to ride him, we'll both have to wait.