I started to brush off the dirt, then thought better about doing that. White footing fragments littered her newly dry cleaned show jumping jacket. It was as if an eight month old baby had just puked milk down her shoulder to the backside of her arm. Obviously she had taken a tumble, a fresh hit to the ground. Like any good mother, I began to smack away some of the impurities, some soil, the dirt together with sticky sand. My hand briskly slapped as well as dusted, really I just wanted to hit away her humiliation. Turn back time. Grant her a "do over". Then I stopped, better not bring more attention to what had just happened.
Rocking Horse Fall Horse Trials started off as well as ended in an unwanted disconnected kind of way. Right off the bat, we had a bobble, a bad car battery. DRATS a three hour set back! A three hour tour! All I could do to calm myself down was keep the Gilligan's Island theme song repeating in my head. You know the one..Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip, That started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny mare. We towed into the dropping sun, rolled into the showgrounds on Friday night at six. A prompt early morning dressage test overshadowed their straightaway ten forty-five cross~country start time. The daylight started getting dark, we had better find her mark. If not for the courage of our fearless walk the mare would be lost. THE MARE WOULD BE LOST! Sunshine waned, weakened her line, made it hard to find the jumps. We had to make the best of things, cause it's an uphill climb. Without further delay, she braided her mares' mane, went to bed without sleep, faced an early bird wake-up call, missed the free breakfast to start the show tied for fifth, after the flat. YIPPEE! My rider, not without the pony, was a "jockey for position".
I set off to find some nourishment, can't have this pilot feeling like she could "eat a horse" or anything, not before they run across the country. DRATS once again, she solely wanted a bacon, egg and cheese on whole wheat breakfast sandwich, but for the most part all they had were crepes crunched in cups. Eager to please, I harpooned that food and brought it to her. Not happy while running out of time we walked the end again. Us being "out of time" ended up giving her time. Time penalties galore, almost enough to count as a refusal. Her fine fifth place position, plunged to nasty ninth.
The chips were down, but her spirit was still up before going into the final showjumping phase. The course was walked, paced out to perfection. Warm up jumps were flawless, not a rattle, nailed every distance, she looked just like Meredith Michaels-Beerbaum but without the "Shutterfly". The announcer introduced my equestrian along with the cremello quarter horse, the whistle blew, off they went. Every jump was off. The chips that were down earlier had found their way directly into how the horse ran it. Chipped in, popped up, every jump looked un-smooth, however, nothing had fallen down. Then, on the sixth jump the horse sprung straight up, leaped it big, everybody gasped, (by the way she heard that!) we thought the horse would land on top of the jump, they cleared it with surprise. That's when, the pair came around to the fateful seventh jump. Nope, that was enough....the mare stopped and my eventer popped over it alright, unfortunately without the horse. It was like, a ship set ground on the shore of some uncharted desert isle, and everybody fell off. Better luck next time.