I am a compulsive list-maker. Always have been. I get substantial satisfaction from crossing an item off my "To-Do" list. I admit it: I have, at times, added an item to my list after completing it, just so I could ceremoniously cross it off. This is why I was so happy to have formulated a goal for Samba and I to begin competing in 2010. With a concrete goal, I could formulate a training plan, and begin to check off items as we progressed.

Before Sammie broke out in hives, we had just broken through our biggest sticking point to date: trot transitions. Now that I was comfortable wearing spurs, Sammie indicated a new-found willingness to listen to my leg, and to make prompt upward transitions. Having made this progress, I was busy planning fabulous rides for the end of November. Then the hives hit, and we lost a week of riding.

Just before the hives subsdided, Sammie got her first-ever body clip, and Meg left for a week to visit family for Thanksgiving. It wasn't until Thanksgiving day that I was finally able to ride again. It was a glorious, sunny morning, and I brought my sister-in-law and niece to the barn to "show off" my baby. The planets aligned, and Sammie was a good girl. We had a nice ride, and I was on top of the world. Unfortunately, my elation was short-lived, as I was too fatigued to ride on Friday, and opted to give Sammie a day off. She'd actually been without a true mental break for over a week, so it was time.

It rained Friday night. A lot. So Saturday morning, as I headed to the barn, I knew that there would be no dry spot available to longe before riding. Determined to stay "on schedule" with my training plan, I tacked her up and headed to the covered arena. My plan was to hand-walk her around to make sure she wasn't going to be nutty, and then ride. That was my plan. Sammie clearly had other plans in mind. The weather had other horses pretty nutty, and Sammie exploded into a series of squeals, bucks, and defiant spooks while I hand walked her. There was no way I could safely mount. I spent a half hour just walking her until I felt safe leaving the arena and walking her down to her stall.

Meg, who had returned from her trip, witnessed the temper tantrum, and offered to work Sammie on Sunday. I liked this change in plans. But on Sunday, the round pen and outdoor arena were still too wet to longe, and Meg felt strongly that Sammie would need to be longed before being ridden again, so Samba got another day off. Monday provided the longeing opportunity Meg was waiting for, and Sammie proved her right: she needed (in Meg's words) a serious longe day, and that's what she got. Meg longed her again Tuesday, then finally felt it was ok to ride, and put in a 25 minute ride. For reasons unclear at the time, Sammie was tripping quite a bit and felt heavy on the forehand. Plus, Meg still felt like Sammie was feeling as though she was on the verge of trying something naughty under saddle, so we left Wednesday's lesson plan open to change. If the chiropractor (who was coming Wednesday morning for a recheck after last month's major casting incident) felt she was ok to be ridden, we might use my lesson time as a training session, where I would watch Meg ride.

Ah, plans. Dr. Bari was on the fence about whether Sammie was ok to ride after her minor adjustment, or whether she should be left in her stall for the rest of the day. The decision was made pretty easy, when Meg discovered Sammie sprung a shoe! As it was the right front, I wondered whether it may have been loose the day before, when she was tripping. Probably. Unfortunately, Mike, our wonderful farrier (and I'm not being facetious...he is truly awesome) could not make it out until Friday to put the shoe back on. By the time the shoe was back on, Meg had to leave for a weekend show, so her assistant Kate longed Sammie. OK...that should be good. It was Kate that longed Sammie the day before Thanksgiving, and we had a good ride that day. I should be good to ride Saturday, right?

Wrong. Amazingly, when I got to the barn around 10:30, it was a ghost town. I tacked Sammie up, and walked her up to the covered. (I didn't longe first, because until Meg and I have a change to work on my longeing skills, I just don't feel productive in the activity.) I hand walked her around as an attitude-check. Well, Sammie displayed the same attitude she had the previous Saturday, in spite of the fact that we had the arena to ourselves. She was distracted, tense, and explosive. After 30 minutes, I thought I had her relaxed enough to get on and ride. Wrong. She exploded next to the mounting block, so I walked her around some more, and then put her up and fed her lunch.

I went down to the showgrounds and watched Meg ride a nice Prix St. George test on Osiris, one of Kathy's horses. How thrilling to watch my trainer ride PSG! As I lamented about my recent lack of progress with Samba, Meg reminded me that many horses go through this in their 4-year old year. Sweet, docile babies turn into fit, athletic horses, who have not matured mentally enough to keep up with their bodies.

Meg assured me that with vacations behind us, no more casting problems, and the shoe back on, we could get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Here's hoping.

From my blog: Green on Green