The Beautiful Queen of Horses

Our daughter, Hiliary, and son-in-law, Andy, gave Jenny and me t-shirts. Jenny got a “soft kitty” (a’ la The Big Bang Theory) and I got a cowboy on a brontosaurus:

man in t-shirt

Kim (S version) asked if I wore the shirt for Lesson #99 in anticipation of riding Dromie. Actually, I wore the shirt in anticipation of someone saying: “Hey, I like your shirt.” But Kim was half right, I did plan on riding Dromie. Shirt or no shirt.

Then again, perhaps there was some kind of collective subconscious process going on here that put Dromie and a brontosaurus on the same page. Later in the day, Karin emailed me this self portrait of one her young riders on Dromie:

drawing of rider and horse

Could this be a coincidence? Or a Jungian archetype, perhaps?

In any case, as anyone who has ever seen Dromie in person will tell you, she is one beautiful horse. No qualifiers regarding her age are necessary. Just a straight up pretty horse. So, if she is indeed a dinosaur she is a Gorgeousequus Rex (Bob Latin for “Beautiful Queen of Horses”).

Meanwhile, it must have been organization day at the barn. Half the contents of the tack room was spilled out into the general barn area, being inventoried and sorted. And new equipment arrived. It was like Christmas morning for a few minutes.

unpacking equipment

Pete unpacked this multiple-use item:

man with hat

I think this can also be used as a feeder of some kind.

Karin got a traffic sign written in equestrian language:

whoa sign

As for Lesson #99, all went well…

Well, not at first. As I approached Dromie in the pasture with halter in hand, she disappeared into the lean-to.

horse in lean-to

I thought perhaps she remembered our difficulty with the bridle in Lesson #98. I spoke to her for a minute or two, apologizing for the bridle thing, petting her and doing my best to explain the shirt. But I soon realized what the real problem was:


Dromie doesn’t like tractors.

Kim offered to coax Dromie from the lean-to and I thought that was an excellent idea. They have a good history together.

kim and dromie

After mounting Dromie from the wrong side (as noted by Pete), we moseyed around the arena as Gerry and Habakuk ran circles around us. Karin said that I was getting “too comfortable” on Dromie and that next week I’d be riding a different horse. Dromie is more or less a baby sitter and Karin is under the impression that my equestrian career would be better served with a tutor rather than a nanny. Even if the nanny is the Beautiful Queen of Horses.

We were joined by Liz on Rambo (or on Romeo? – I don’t know, it was one of the “R” horses) and proceeded to the trail for a bittersweet end of summer ride while being mindful of the horseflies that were rumored to be in the area.


No Drama on Dromie

For Lesson #97, I had the honor of riding Andromeda for the first time. “Dromie” is Kim’s (S version) horse. She is a Shire cross and she’s about as calm and sweet as they come.

Kim says Dromie is around 25, which in Karin Years is 18. That conversion isn’t as complex as it seems.

Dromie hangs out in the geriatric pasture with her buddy Rami and away from the obnoxious younger horses. Well… I think that’s how they would put it.

The Elder Council

The Elder Council

My nickname for Dromie is Krystal. Because I’m sure I’ve called her that several times now. In fact, I didn’t realize she was here until I saw both Krystal and Dromie  standing next to each other in the same paddock. With all the science fiction I’ve read, you can imagine what that was like for me.

I know that the horsepeople who see both horses everyday will think my confusion isn’t warranted and can point to a long list of details that distinguish the two. It should be obvious to anyone who is paying attention.

Ah, there’s the rub. To me, they are both black horses, thus identical.

And in my defense:

Not Krystal

Not Krystal

Not Dromie.

Not Dromie.

Of course, all of this is neither nor there. The most important thing is that Dromie was a pleasure to ride. She moved when I wanted her to move and she stopped when I wanted her to stop. End of story.

Kim gave me a crop just in case, but I didn’t need it. I did enjoy carrying it around under my arm like a Prussian Hussar.

Kim said that the only thing Dromie is afraid of is a tractor. That’s good, because I need a horse that isn’t easily rattled.

I don’t mean to be paranoid, but I couldn’t help but notice that Karin just happened to be using the tractor when Kim told me I would be riding Dromie. I know Karin likes to give me a challenge sometimes.

Karin struggles to maintain control over the Green Monster.

But we out waited Karin and she eventually gave up and put the Green Monster away.

woman looking at tractor

Dromie had been hit by a tractor one time and Kim showed me the mark. There is a reason for everything.

old horse injury

She also said that the horse is missing some teeth in front, but gets along pretty well without them.

I was able to apply her bit & bridle after only two tries. She’s kinda tall. After, the second try, Kim informed me that Dromie was “missing an ear.” And I shook my head thinking, man this horse has been through too much!

But this time it was my fault. And temporary.

man bridling horse

Nothing for the poor thing to do but stand there and wait for me to figure out that a correction was both needed and easily done.

I really like this horse. I hope I can ride her again next time.

horseback riding



The Respect of a Palomino

For Lesson #96, Charity filled in for Karin who was busy with horse camp kids. As usual, Gerry rode Habakuk. I’m really impressed with how much progress the Professor and the Moustache King have made together since Gerry started with Karin. And the bond is easy to see.

man on horse

I got my old friend, Goldie. The Palomino wasn’t particularly busy at the time and she stayed Not Busy for pretty much my entire lesson. Goldie is actually Leoni’s horse and according to my sources, Leoni says that the key to Goldie is to earn her respect or she just won’t respond like you think she should. I earned about half-a-trot around the arena’s worth.

With the camp kids taking up all the good barn spots for grooming and tacking up, Gerry and I had to try to brush and saddle the horses outside while they grazed.

“Those horses aren’t going anywhere with all this lush grass around,” one confident observer noted.

horse eating grass

Well, “not going anywhere” is relative. While Habakuk and Goldie showed no intention of packing up and leaving the property, they didn’t exactly stand still either. The grass is always greener four inches away.

“It’s like saddling a moving target,” Gerry observed.

I have this same problem when I try to get my granddaughter Aubrey dressed. She just knows that there has to be more interesting things for a person to do than fussing with something so obviously unnecessary as clothes.

But no problem, Charity was right there assisting Gerry as needed and assisting me just about every step of the way. Legacy’s tack room has a built-in special feature that enables it to spontaneously manufacture – out of plain thin air – rare saddle and girth types that fit together in an endless variety of ways. Each combination of saddle-girth-stirrups creates a unique Tack Puzzle that must be solved before you can ride the horse. If given enough time, I can eventually solve these brainteasers by myself, but by then everyone has gone off to bed.

stirrup puzzle

Charity is good teacher. You can tell she has learned some things by watching Karin, but I think her instincts are really good too. She knew how difficult it was for me to get Goldie going, but she never really pressured me or made me feel more uncomfortable than I already was. Her corrections were very specific in the “heels down,” “toes in,” “don’t lean forward” sort of way. She also taught us the proper way to pass in the arena. Just a few simple rules, but good to know.

riding instructor

Toward the end of the lesson, Charity brought out Karin’s Magic Wand. I couldn’t really see what she was doing with it, but the device had a multiplier effect on Goldie’s respect for me and we got her going for just a bit at the end. Karin always says to end the lesson on a positive note. Even if it takes a little magic.

Karin's Magic Wand


Philosophical Differences

For Lesson #84, Karin had us ride bareback. She put me on Maree and put my new lesson partner, Gerry, on Habakuk.

Maree is an absolute sweetheart, great with kids and as easygoing as a horse can get, but I think I’m too tall for her. Karin insists that I’m not.

I did a quick calculation, comparing Karin’s Equestrian Knowledge Data Base to mine and concluded that she had the edge there, so I agreed to ride Maree despite our philosophical differences and my misgivings.

I liked the idea of bareback. I have an awful time keeping my feet in the stirrups at anything faster than a slow walk.  I looked forward to not having that distraction. And Karin said I could ride with in my snow boots – a huge plus.

Bareback also helps the horse and rider share body heat. This was important because it was yet another cold, cold day. The better part of North America was still in the grip of the cruel Polar Vortex, which I now suspect is actually a conscious entity bent on our destruction. In any case, it was warmer that day in Moscow than it was in Knoxville, Tennessee. Some say we’re having a Russian Winter. Although, I don’t think the Russians would say that.

The bareback pad. Don't forget to attend to the girth.

The bareback pad. Don’t forget to attend to the girth.

For me, it was an easy tack day. Karin applied the bareback pad and Maree is the easiest horse in the barn to bridle. She practically does it herself. I just kind of dangle the headset in front of her face and the next thing I know it’s on her. I like that.

Her Sweetness, our Saint Maree

Her Sweetness, our Saint Maree

We rode in the arena, of course.  As I led Maree to the mounting block, Karin asked if I retightened the girth. I wanted to explain to Karin that you don’t need to do that with a bareback pad, but then I’m remembered the Equestrian Knowledge Data Base thing and settled for “No, I forgot,” as she tightened the girth again for me.

As it turned out, I was glad that Karin did that.  For some reason, Maree suddenly shied – rather severely – as we passed the radio sitting on the wall ledge. I have no idea why she did this. Maybe somebody had it on earlier while they were replaying Erin Andrews interview of Richard Sherman after the NFC Championship Game. We’re all still recovering from that. Including Richard Sherman.

The Voice of the Polar Vortex

The Voice of the Polar Vortex

I think if they ever make an action adventure movie about the Polar Vortex, they should hire Richard Sherman to do the voice.

Anyway, I almost fell off. Of all the horses I would expect to bless me with my First Fall, I would have Maree at the bottom of the list. But a horse is a horse and we’re just people and when it comes right down to it, they’re all capable of tossing anyone they please.

To be fair, Maree wasn’t really trying to get rid of me. She startled for just an instant. But it was enough of a bump to put me on her sideways. My right foot, still in its snow boot, courageously clung to the horse’s right side. A literal toehold.

I managed to hang on and not fall, but neither was I able to get back on and right the ship. Like Team Wallace at the Chattahoochee Hills Horse Trials, I struggled in Rider’s Purgatory for a moment or two, while Saint Maree patiently waited for me to accept the inevitable. Stickablity is overrated, I say.  I chose to get off rather than fall.

You can’t fire me, I quit.

Karin wasn’t there for the festivities. She had gone off to get Mackie while we warmed up. But Gerry was there to witness it – in silent amusement – no doubt, grateful it wasn’t him.

I related the incident to Karin when she came in with Mackie. She said it was too bad I didn’t fall. Oh, the concern was touching.

“You can’t be a real equestrian until you’ve fallen off.”

I think Karin and I have some philosophical differences on this subject as well. Although in this case, the fall would have been measured in inches and I probably passed up a good opportunity.

We worked for a bit and then let the horses loose to roll around in the dirt. Maree demonstrated a proper landing.  For my benefit, I believe.

This is how you do it, Bob.

This is how you do it, Bob.

And Karin and Mackie did a reenactment of Muhammad Ali’s TKO of Sonny Liston in 1963.

Karin wins in the second round.

Karin wins in the second round.

It was a good lesson for all of us.

A New Level

Lesson #82 was about tack.

I think I may have a handle on the bit & bridle application now. It’s a simple matter of timing my jump to coincide with that inevitable moment when the horse raises his head to avoid the little mass of leather and metal coming straight at him. I find the extra elevation necessary because I often miss that tiny window of opportunity that exists between the instant that the horse realizes what I’m doing and the instant he realizes that I don’t know what I’m doing. He steps back and jerks his head up toward the ceiling as if he’s looking for someone to save him from this dreadful ineptness.

It’s not pretty, but with a combination of physics, luck, and rudimentary knowledge of equine oral anatomy, not to mention persistence, I manage to get the bit in his mouth and the bridle over his ears.

So on Lesson #82 Karin focused on stirrup adjustment instruction. Specifically, doing this while mounted.  At first, I thought, you know Karin, I have trouble with this stuff with both feet on the ground. I didn’t feel I was ready for this new level of difficulty.


But Karin has discovered new reservoirs of patience within herself that I’m sure she never knew existed. I did that. Karin has explained these procedures countless times and has gone through a process over the last two years with me. At first, she would say things like “But I just showed you this last week!”  And then, “You’re messing with me, right?” And then, “Just figure it our yourself. I’ll see you outside.”  And then, “Kathy, don’t help him!” And then, “Kathy, would you please help him!”


Now she explains things to me she as though I’m an alien from a horseless galaxy who she just met five minutes ago. It’s remarkable. She’s so matter of fact, completely task orientated and immersed in the Now, oblivious to the fact that I should have gotten this stuff a long time ago.  This is Inner Peace through resignation.


This approach has liberated us from a linear learning progression. We can go ahead and try more complex procedures prior to mastering the simpler ones, because what-the-hell that’s never going to happen anyway. And thus, we went ahead and tackled stirrup adjustment whilst mounted.

When I realized that learning to do this meant I wouldn’t have to get off the horse  – and thus back on the horse – I became interested.  Getting off and on the horse is a bit of project for me and I try to avoid it when I can.


Karin knows this. And I’m convinced she knew it would motivate me to try. She explained the procedure one time and left me to my own devices in the arena.


“You can let Goldie walk on while you adjust the stirrups,” she said before she shut the door on her way out.

This sounded great, because Goldie can be hard for me to get started and I hate to make her stop for any reason.

So Goldie and I ambled to and fro across the arena, each in our own little world. I managed to adjust both stirrups – one up, one down as it turned out – so I ended up riding like Desmond Howard in the Heisman Trophy pose.  But I did it!


And thus I have reached another milepebble in my equestrian career.

Canter Language

We spent Lesson #78 in what Karin has tagged “The Great Indoors.”

sign on riding arena

This is why we stayed inside:

horses in lean-to

I had the pleasure of riding Krystal in what I would describe as a “standard riding lesson.” That is, Karin – mean, mean Karin – had the audacity to expect us to work. The four beat/two beat routine, just wasn’t enough for her.

horseback rider

“Make her canter, Bob.”

What? She clearly did not understand. To me, a canter is not a gait. It’s a project. It takes a lot physical and mental energy for me to make something like that happen. You have to focus and allow your mind and body to work together.

My mind and body are constantly bickering and I usually just let them go at it. Now, I had to be like a father warning the brats in the backseat that they better start getting along or no ice cream.

And I was pretty rusty. During the good weather months, we spent most of our lesson time out the on trails of Legacy Stables. Instruction in Open Terrain, they call it.

Memories of a better day.

Memories of a better day.

“You know how to do this, Bob. Build up the energy, then the half-halt, get the outside leg back a little and push her into it. Use your legs. Don’t forget the verbal cue.”

That’s like about 87 steps. And you have to do them almost simultaneously. At least seamlessly. Overwhelm the horse with utterly clear instruction.

To the less experienced rider, it seems like the communication is issued from a set of several distinct actions. But I think the horse has to comprehend it as one big idea, a kind of synergy between the various cues. It all melts down into one thing: “Achtung Canter!”

Well… I Achtung Cantered all around that arena the best I could, but with no success.  What Krystal was hearing from me was: “Hey Girl: let’s trot a bit.”

“Bob! You can’t start posting when you’re want her to canter.  When you do that, she thinks you want her to trot.”

Stupid body.

Sensing my growing frustration, Karin escalated her intervention. As I rounded a corner, she approached and spoke some magic words to Krystal.

Krystal broke into a canter. That’s all we needed – a translator.

But Karin wanted me to do this myself. I tried again. And again. And again.

“Use your legs, Bob.”

I used my legs. Krystal broke into a canter. A sweet, lovely canter. The motion created a little indoor breeze that whistled past my ears. I like that.

Karin – mean, mean Karin – made us do it a second time. There will be no talk of flukes in The Great Indoors.

Actually, it’s good to be working like this again. Don’t misunderstand, I do not regret a single moment we spent on the trails this summer. And when the good weather returns, I have no doubt we’ll be back outside. There is much to be learned out there as well.

In fact, we don’t even need “good weather.”  Just a nice day.

winter horseback riding

Backward Thinking and Apples

The apples are everywhere at Legacy Stables. They must be experiencing a bumper crop because I don’t remember it being like this last year. I think this property is best described as an apple orchard where someone put a house. Then a barn. Then an arena.  Karin calls it a Schlaraffenland:  the German version of the land of milk and honey.


The more impatient apples are picking themselves and dropping to the ground on their own accord. Of course, they don’t fall far from the tree.


But who has time to pick apples right now? Legacy buzzes with summer activity and even Double Karin can’t be everywhere. Lesson #71 took place just a few days before A Vaulting Connection left for the AVA Nationals in Denver. They have 10 kids going this year, plus Avenir and Caspian. It’s a huge, time consuming project.

Karin isn’t doing this alone, of course. No one could. In fact, the trip as planned wouldn’t be possible without the support of the kids’ families.

I think it’s so cool this many kids get to go. I think they’re going to have a blast.

Karin had some kind of business to attend to, so she turned Christi, Gabe and me over to Leoni for Lesson #71. We rode Avenir, Caspian and Goldie, respectively.

Karin suggested that Leoni teach us “something brand new.”

That phrase struck fear into my heart. I’ve seen the kind of things Leoni does on a horse.



I certainly wasn’t prepared to flip about in the saddle or ride upside down.  It’s hard enough just getting on.


With her morning coffee cup in hand, Leoni had obviously just gotten up.  But I could see the wheels turning in her head following her mother’s suggestion.


I thought, “Oh no, the coffee is working – we’re in big trouble now.”


On the other hand, we’ve seen how Leoni handles her younger vaulters: the calm confidence, the infectious enthusiasm, pushing for improvement but always making it fun. The kids love her.


So, maybe she would go easy on us.

She took a sip of coffee and let those wheels turn for an extra beat. Then, her decision: “We’re going to learn how to back, but not straight.”

Ah, “not straight. ” I can do “not straight.”

Then she showed us what she meant by not straight. It was an “L”.


I put this through my Concept Meter and it registered as “clear”. Not bad, just a 90 degree turn.

Leoni explained the basic principle: “If you want to turn left, you use your right rein and right leg. To turn right, you use your left rein and left leg.”

I like this kind of symmetry. All it takes is a willingness to think backwards.

At this point, the “I Remember This from Somewhere Alarm” went off in my brain.  It reminded me of when Hiliary and Jamie were into horses and I had to learn how to back a horse trailer. If I used backward thinking then, I certainly could use it now.

Left is right, right is left. It’s a simple formula – as long as you don’t overthink it.


We did pretty well on our first attempt. Goldie was experienced in this maneuver and my brain minded its own business and allowed the hands and feet to work with the horse.


However, while Christi and Gabe were taking their turns in the L, my brain began to pick at the details: Okay, so you work the right rein to turn left, but do you pull the reins in or out? And what exactly did I do with my leg? I wonder what I’ll have for lunch. Was there some kind of play in the ankle? Who’s pitching for the Tigers tonight?

By the time I took my second turn, my brain was creating so much noise that my hands and feet gave up any effort to take the initiative and simply waited for their instructions.

“Fine brain. Just give it to us step by step then.”

I totally blew the second try. Goldie was hopelessly confused. No matter which way I pulled the reins, we continued to swing in the wrong direction.


Leoni attempted a few verbal corrections, but the frustration hole just got deeper.  Finally, she simply stepped in. Instead of feeding the frustration with more vocal commands, she physically pressed Goldie and me in the right direction backwards through the L.

It wasn’t pretty by any standard. By the time we were done, Leoni’s “L” looked like this:    \ \   /   \.  But we had accomplished the essence of the task.

Leoni smiled and said, “Okay, good.”

It would have been easier for her just to let us off the hook and say it’s not happening today. But when you start something with a horse and rider, it’s always best to finish it, whatever it takes.  I think that this kind of calm persistence is at the heart of a good riding instruction.

So yes, at Legacy Stables, the fruit doesn’t fall from the tree.


The “G” Word

For Lesson #67 Karin had me ride Goldie.  Goldie is an old friend of mine.  My first taste of equestrian glory was with her:


And last year, she made a huge contribution to the greater cause:

Goldie and Oakley.

Goldie and Oakley.

Goldie is Leoni’s horse…


….but like all of the horses at Legacy, many claim her:













I often hear that Goldie is “lazy” or at least harder to get moving than some of the other horses. I remember Karin giving me a crop and instructing me to annoy the horse into motion. Karin is a good teacher and knows my strengths.


I also often hear that Goldie is one of the fastest horses in the Legacy Herd. I’m guessing that has something to do with why she’s Leoni’s horse.


On Lesson #67 Goldie’s higher gears became a subject of interest to me. Karin had us trot as expected:  “makehergo-makehergo-makehergo.” And this was followed by the now routine, “I want you to canter, Bob.”

And then she added, “Just don’t let her head for the Big Door.”

The Big Door

The Big Door

I glanced toward the Big Door and replied:


I thought this may a good time to ask for my stunt double.

I’ve grown fond of cantering. The instant you see that horse head in front of you go into the rocking motion and you feel the acceleration, the brain must release some kind of addictive chemical that makes you want to:

1) Not stop.

2) Do it again after you stop.

We cantered around the arena three or four times. I had even less control on Goldie then I did on Krystal in Lesson #66. But I remembered what everyone said about how Perfect is overrated, so I just sort of found my balance and let Goldie and Nature take their course.

I admitted to Karin after we halted that I had no control from start to finish.

“You are an experienced rider now, Bob. I could tell you weren’t scared.”

This was true. It was more fun than frightening. Although, I did have the Big Door on my mind for most of the ride.

Then Karin added, “She doesn’t really have a good canter.  But when she goes faster, she beautiful.”

Goes “faster”…

It was as if Karin was trying to avoid saying the word. So I said it for her:

“You mean — her gallop?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

This is the first time we’ve used the word gallop.  Usually, if Karin says a word, it won’t be long before I’m doing it.


* * *

Jenny and I are going bike riding next week, so I won’t be posting here until the beginning of July. When I get back, I want spend two or three postings talking about Karin’s horses as an intro to the Legacy Stables Horse of the Month competition.

Also, if you would like to support this blog, the best way to do that is to go to the Bob the Equestrian Facebook page at and click the “share” button under the post that references my latest blog entry. Your support is much appreciated!


Keeping the Sickle Sharp

It’s going to be a big weekend at Legacy Stables. Karin is hosting a vaulting fest & clinic on Saturday and Sunday. I thought about telling her we could skip my lesson this week and I could pick up an extra session next week after things settle down. I know how busy she is.

Leoni practices for the opening.

Leoni practices for the opening.

But it was just too nice of a day not to ride and we have to strike when the iron’s hot here in the Great Mitten. So I went.


As planned, I arrived early. About 20 minutes before my lesson. In response to my previous post, loyal commenters Rachel and Danielle extolled the virtues of showing up early and proper grooming. So I was bound and determined to do both.

We had a lot of rain this week and Vinnie was pretty muddy. But instead of allowing myself to be overwhelmed with the gargantuan task of removing every speck of mud from the poor guy, I went into the Pretend Zen mode and simply focused on one area at time. I did not rush.

Vinnie relaxed on the crossties.  The fidgety, impatient, flat-eared Krumpel Huber of last week was gone.


As I ran the curry brush over his neck, withers and back, I took note of the areas that seemed sensitive to him.  I went easier on those.

I also noted that the barn was quiet. No other horses, no other people.  Nothing going on. I think this had something to do with Vinnie’s demeanor as well.

By the time we finished and got tacked up, it was 35 minutes into my lesson hour. Karin said that this was a big improvement. Next week, I’m going to get started 40 minutes earlier.

We decided on some Instruction in Open Terrain.  This meant that we were going to go well over my allotted lesson time. I was a surprised Karin was taking the extra time for this.  She had so much do.


Karin rode her old buddy, Charley.  Vinnie and I followed. It was a gorgeous morning. Perfect riding weather.


As we started down the trail, Karin shared a short parable about a farmer who tried to cut grass with dull sickle. He was so overwhelmed with the amount of grass he had to cut that he declined to take the time to stop and sharpen the sickle. He worked all day long, into the evening, and still couldn’t get it all the grass cut.  With a sharpened sickle, he would have had the job done before noon.

Then, she turned in the saddle, looked back at me and said, “I sharpening my sickle right now.”


It was a great ride.  On the way back, Karin’s phone rang.  Apparently, somebody had a few questions about the vaulting fest.  So that was it for the sickle sharpening.


No matter. She was ready.

Grooming the Krumpel Huber

I spent lessons #62 & #63 with Vinnie. He’s still my favorite, despite being an old grump in the morning. Of course, this is what makes us a pair.

Karin calls him a “Krumpel Huber.”  The nearest translation I could come up with for this is “creased man with acreage.”  I’m thinking this might be akin to the classic grouchy old man who chases kids away from his watermelon patch.

Just look at those ears.


Although, get him outside and on the move and his whole disposition changes.

Now look at those ears.


Another thing I noticed about Vinnie is that he’s shedding like crazy.


All the horses are. Karin broke out this tool:


I know this is normal for this time of year. And I also know that grooming is an important part of the lesson and helps build the rider-horse bond.


But my problem is that I’m not sure when to stop brushing. I worry that Vinnie will become like the horses in the Excessively Groomed Herd that runs down our river every so often.



Even then, they’re still beautiful.


Also, all this grooming really cuts into my lesson. By the time I get done brushing and struggling with the tack, I have about 14 seconds left for riding. Karin lets me ride overtime, but in all fairness, I should be able to get my lesson done on time and be out of the way for the next student.

So this summer, I’m going to arrive at my lessons a little earlier to get a head start on all the preliminaries. I tried this once before and it just angered all the other horses still in their stalls. But that was back before Karin moved to Legacy and the set up was different.

I think now the old Krumpel Huber and I will be able be able to groom, bond, and tack up without upsetting anyone too much.  And then we might have a little time at the end to let him do what he really wants: