My lesson on Wednesday was a little strange. Berry and I started out well. We warmed up over a skinny, which at first she refused, but eventually I got her over it. This may have been a foreshadowing of events to come, or it may have just been that the fake stone wall was terrifying. But she jumped it a bunch of times, and all was well.
It’s hidden behind the standard. Or you can pretend I’m jumping a ghost jump! Wooooo!
My photos to began with are pretty terrible. Dave, who graciously came to film me so I could finally know how Berry looks jumping, had been drafted into helping work with the tractor. So he simply set the camera on a jump standard. Yet another factor that will lead to our doom.
We started jumping the line. All was well.
That’s the angle I got, so that’s the only photos I got. I hope you enjoyed those three similar photos set up in a pyramid pattern.
Then we added the terrifying brush jump which I don’t have a picture of (yet) because the camera was sitting on it. She refused it at first, but then she was jumping it. We did our little loop, and all was well.
Then I said I really wanted some photos of myself jumping, so therefore I needed Dave. So we took a little break while we waiting for Dave, and my instructor waved the camera around without knowing it was on, resulting in such classic images as, close up of glove material, and shot of the sky, and the ever classic leg shot.
A must for everyone’s photo album.
Finally, Dave came over to join us, so I began my jumping round of vanity.
The line was first. Each jump was more awkward than the last.
Whoa, overachiever!
I feel like each leg is going a different direction
And then we went around to the terrifying brush jump, and all was lost. My brain packed up and left the arena.
Noticing the sack of potatoes on top of her, she refused the brush jump.
We tried it again. It was a no go. Things got so bad that the brush jump was abandoned.
But we couldn’t end on a bad note, so it was the line again. Then, this happened. The jump was set up again, and then she refused it over, and over.
My trainer dropped the rail.
That was still a no go.
We assumed she was tired. Too tired to put up with a sack of potatoes. As someone who regularly hauls sacks of potatoes while tired (I do have other hobbies!), I felt Berry’s pain. My trainer had me cut into the line to just do the second jump.
Success!
And we cantered away into the sunset, never to be seen again.
After this, I asked my trainer if I ruined Berry. She assured me she isn’t, but I’m not too sure. It sure seems like she is.
Today I’m having another lesson, hopefully to un-ruin Berry. I don’t know if it’s possible, it might be better to admit defeat and take up a new hobby, or invest more time into potato sack hauling.
(sidenote: Everyone is super jelly of Berry’s racing stripe. I thought it needed a little something extra though, so I clipped the letter V in there.
It is a V! V for Vintage!
I seriously laughed for like 15 minutes at the thought of clipping my other horse’s initial onto Berry. It was the highlight of my night!)