Sabina's lament

"Mama, let's go riding". Sabina on Tornado, me on Crownie, riding around the obstacle course in the arena. You get the picture.

Eventually, Sabina has had enough riding, but I still want to fit in a couple of canters. Sabina happily hops off. Then she takes the bridle off her pony. Tornado is delighted, and sinks his teeth into the knee deep grass. Yummm!

I keep cantering around, totally aware of what is about to happen. When I finish up, Sabina opens the gate, and encourages Tornado to follow her. The little pony runs out with joy, followed by a very upset Sabina.

Eventually we catch Tornado and bring him back to the hitching rail, but Sabina is unconsolable. "Mama, I hate Tornado, I want you to sell him. I want a new pony. You must buy me a new pony." And on it goes.

I sit with her, laughing inside, agonising on the surface. I love the fact that she can be so open and expressive about how she feels. And that she has a good listening ear to throw it all at.

Eventually she calms down, and we can actually work through the situation. The analogy of green grass to Tornado is the same as chocolate cake to a tired Sabina appears to really hit the spot. Sabina opens her eyes wide with disbelief - you mean you actually need a headstall to lead Tornado back to the hitching rail?

Tornado's lament

I go out first thing in the morning to do some farming stuff. As I am approaching the house, Sabina pops her little head out the door. "Mama, let's go horse riding!", she commands. My dream has come true.

We grab Crownie and Tornado. I setup a little obstacle course. And off we go. Doing laps around the arena. Each of us doing sort of our own thing. But we keep talking and giggling as well, and it's a lot of fun.

After lunch and a rest, "Mama, let's go horse riding!" Sheesh. This time Sabina grabs Tornado, and I grab Gally. I don't quite trust Gally to ride him with Sabina, but I figure that a bit of playing around, and standing at the hitching rail will do him a world of good.

Now, recently, I purchased some DVD's from Wrangler Jayne. I've watched the first DVD and today I apply the learnings from this DVD to Gally. The transformation is amazing. Gally stops trying to rip the shirt off my back, and starts to gently ask if I can possibly keep rubbing his forehead.

Later when Sabina is riding, I bring Gally into the arena. Not riding, just leading. This is a bit risky, because if Gally takes off (and remember we are in a 7 acre paddock - the "arena" is simply the mowed part of the paddock), then Tornado may take off after him.

But taking off is not on Gally's agenda. He is quite happily focused on following me around the obstacle course. Every now and then he still throws in a little challenge, like a little mouthing with his lips on my jacket. I reprimand these, praise, then move on.

Sabina, of course, is also doing loops of the course, enjoying a trot and canter in between obstacles. Tornado is probably the least happy, but he puts up with it all.

At the very end of the session, Sabina insists that we wash Tornado. The hose and bucket come out, and Gally sighs a huge sigh of relief when he realises that only Tornado is being bathed.

First canter

The cousins have left, and the place feels so empty it's eerie. "Do you want to ride your pony?" I suggest to Sabina. She nods.

We get the pony and Crownie as well. For brushing pleasure. Then Sabina suggests I saddle up. Ah, what the heck.

"Mama, let's go in the state forest", suggests Sabina. "But you don't lead me." Oh no no no. I don't think we're up to that yet. So I propose we practice in the paddock first.

Crownie is a long striding horse, and the pony is tiny, so it looks a bit like this. I am up ahead walking, and Sabina keeps falling behind. Then I stop, allow her to catch up, and then we move on again. I encourage Sabina to have a bit of a trot to catch up.

So there I am, in front. I've just come to a stop, and take a look behind me. Oh! My! Goodness! There is my little girl cantering on the pony down the long side of the arena, with the biggest smile across her face that you have ever seen.

She pulls up to a screeching stop, all excited. I praise her immensely.

Letting go

Sabina and I arrive at Pony Club. We saddle up Tornado. "Mama, can I get on?", asks Sabina. She's keen. "No! We need to get gear checked first." This is the problem with parents buying kids ponies (rather than kids learning at a riding school first) - the "rules" get overlooked.

Finally, she's allowed to hop on. We go into the beginners class. All the other kids are on ponies on a lead. "Mama, let go", come the instructions. "Really? Are you sure?", I ask. "Yes mama!". I unclip the lead rope. "Now you let me know if you need me", I smile.

Sabina steers her pony around the arena with such a serious face that the instructor keeps asking if she is ok. But she does an amazingly good job, negotiating around the other ponies, and stopping behind them when required.

As time progresses, Sabina starts smiling and even laughing. She does endless loops of the arena, and not once does she say that "it's boring". In the final lesson, Sabina is actually trotting unassisted, laughing all the way. At the very end, I am allowed to clip the lead back on so that she can trot over the trot poles. I think we even manage to sneak in a stride or two of canter.

Of course, throughout the entire exercise I am doing loops of the arena too. Mostly at walk, but also at trot. Umm, I mean running. Given my post operative state, it's a reasonable effort. I am very glad when the whole thing is over and we finally head home.

Back in the saddle

Yesterday was exactly four weeks since my operation. I bring Bess and Tornado in, under the watchful eye of my mother. Sabina runs circles around us.

I figure that if I can brush and saddle up a horse, then I can get on. In the meantime Sabina's enthusiasm to go riding does not diminsh. What a pity.

In the end, both Bess and Tornado are saddled and ready to go. Sabina is on, and mum holds the lead rope. Then she gazes at me, and the 16hh horse. And she wonders.

I gaze at the wither and wonder too. But, enough of that, just get on. And I do. Child's play.

Once in the saddle, I feel a million dollars. After all, my legs weren't operated on, and I sit solid as a rock.

We ride out the front gate. 50 metres down the road mum gives me the look - she's had enough. I sigh. Okay, okay, I convince Sabina to turn back. We've been on horseback a mere 10 minutes, and we're back at the hitching rail.

I gaze at the ground. Hmmm ... long way down. What will the jolt of dismounting do to me? I'm not really ready for any jolts. I haven't even tried a slow jog yet. I didn't think this bit through very well, did I?

I grab hold of the pomel and use my arms to lower myself slowly. Easy done! Success. Yay!

Catching Gally

So here we are at the end of winter, and the winter rugs need to be taken off. As I am out of action, I beg and plead with my husband to take the rugs off. He managed to do two last weekend, and he is attempting to do the remaining two right now.

Gally comes up to him and seems friendly enough, until that is, the headstall appears in his hand. Then Gally is off. So Pete proceeds to take Crownie's rug off first - too easy. Then back to Gally. The little bay horse refuses to be caught, and trots circles around Pete.

We manage to coax Gally into a separate paddock. At least here Pete only has to negotiate the knee high weeds, and not other horses. But Gally seems more intent on showing off extended trots and collected canters than being caught. Finally we bite the bullet and move all the other horses out of sight. Pete goes into the paddock with an outstretched hand holding the head stall. Gally races up to him and sticks his head into the headstall.

My lament

I've had my cancer removing surgery and am now successfully and quickly recovering. But the rule is that I can't ride a horse for four weeks - that means I have another week left before I can ride a horse again.

I'm itching to get back on. That's an understatement. I keep having these thoughts of taking Sabina for a ride on Tornado. Or secretly catching Crownie and just giving her a brush.

I can just see myself next Saturday - I'll get up early and go for a three hour ride. Even if it is just mainly walking. Cannot wait!