D is five, and its about time we try some stressage. We go to a local unaffiliated competition. What I forgot to check was where the tests would be taking place… they are in their indoor school that has no windows and no sign of the outside.
A friend takes us. Her lorry is tiny and in hindsight D’s probably a bit big for it. We arrive and she is dripping in sweat.
She warms up ok (well she was hot already :)) and we are called to do our test, the big sliding door rolls shut and its just us and the judge, a little old woman sitting in a little box at the end.
We neigh, neigh, neigh, neigh and then neigh some more. She completely ignores any aids from me and sets off round the school at an AMAZING extended trot spooking at shadows.
The bell rings, we bronc. When we finish we make our way to enter the arena at A. As we turn at A, something clatters against the wall of the school, we bolt up the centre line at a flat out gallop and hoon round to the right when we are supposed to be turning left.
The next 4 minutes were interesting. We didnt do any walk, we bronc’d so much at one point we were facing completely the wrong way and the judge had to tell me which way i was supposed to be going i was so disoriented and dizzy!! We couldnt get any canter on the left rein but only cantered and wouldnt trot on the right. We bronc’d again in the FWLR and ended up heading the opposite direction at a rate of knots. We got to the final centre line and bolted down it. The look of fear on the judges face will live with me forever. We didnt end up doing a final halt, we did a lap of the arena and halted at A, facing sideways. The judge looked shell shocked.
We scored 47 (how!?) my favourite comments on the sheet where ‘well sat I thought you were a goner then’, ‘lovely extension’ and ‘i thought that was the end for me’
Not our finest hour!