Debut Dressage

We may be feeling down about trailers and our showjumping prospects but word has gone out that Pat is planning another Dressage Gala like the one she held in October. At the time we were mere ponyowning wannabes, and now we are one of them, with a pony of our own, even if it’s Clyde!

When I heard this exciting news I rushed off immediately to find J, schooling said Clyde in the bottom school. A dressage gala! A lovely dream-bubble was floating above my head: showcoats, tophats, and flashy Arabs polished till they shine, flaunting their paces and their lovely flowing moves – a grand parade of fine horsemanship - and we will be there!

I skidded to a halt at the arena and looked in. There was my dressage team: one surly old pony trotting stiffly round a bend, his skinny knock-knees clashing at each stride. His hogged mane stuck up stiffly like a Mohican and his one white foot looked as if he’d dunked it in the muck bucket. He was on the bit all right - chomping on it, trying to roll it past his big yellow teeth and out so he could clopper off back to his haybag. Pony girl sat hunch-shouldered on his saggy back, her boots covered with 3 days’ dust and her hat slipped down over her eyes. This sight was a bit of a blow to the dream-bubble I must say, but I rallied bravely and broke the news.

We have some weeks to practice yet and PG is nothing if not determined and well-versed in theoretical technique. And Clyde scrubs up ok with a spray of Canter Coatshine, held down by three strong men while his meant-to-be-white bits are hosed. And he’s a willing, well-trained sorta lad who moves into canter at the slightest touch, unlike, eg, Pantso who needs three circuits of kicking, flapping and drumming heels on her barrel sides to get the message, or Vicious, who will canter all right, but not when you ask him to and certainly not in the right direction. Clyde (or Braveheart as we must now call him) will be a star… of sorts. Roll on May 1st!