Volunteering Part the Second and Ring Work

First, just a non-specific rant about horse owners who are always after the New Thing, never happy with what they have, and have no more connection to their horses than to a treadmill that has grown boring and is now a place to hang laundry.

And a note to myself to stop going out of my way to help people like that, as they often treat people as they do horses.

And now that that is out of the way.....

I did my second track visit with CANTER this morning, in the rain that was - as so colorfully noted by a Liverpudlian I once sat next to on a flight - intermittently chucking down rain.  I walked through more wet sand than I care to think of, wore a coat that was too heavy so I was both chilled and overheated, and bits of me were hopelessly drenched.  Continuing my streak as a bad luck charm, there were no new listings today, although several trainers received updates on horses that they had donated.

At one point, as we were watching horses go by in the aisle of one of the barns, I was asked if I noticed what was different about the horses.  I stared, thinking that they were much smaller, but then my eye was caught by their feet - they were barefoot.  Small and barefoot.  Small and barefoot.  What does that mean?

"They're Arabs," I was told.

Well, if I had looked up at their heads instead of down at their feet...

I had no idea that Arabian racing even existed, and I certainly had no idea that it was held at Delaware Park.  After all, it didn't exist.  Paradox.

I kept looking at those horses, and they didn't look much like the halter-bred Arabians at the barn.  These horses... looked like horses.  They had croups that angled!  Their faces were not terribly dishy either, but their muzzles were smallish.

I subtly (as we were in the midst of the barns) asked if the issues existed with unwanted Arabian racehorses as with Thoroughbreds.  No, the overpopulation isn't there as it is with Thoroughbreds, plus they often have a second career as endurance horses.  Oh.  As CANTER deals exclusively with TBs, we passed any barn where we popped our heads in and saw a line of little muzzles turn towards us.

I was also impressed at one barn where the stalls had nothing but a chain strung in front holding in the racehorses.  Peanut simply puts his head underneath those, pushes through until his neck is a bit out, then lifts up until it pulls out from the wall.  Then, he walks out with a distinct air of smugness.  I mentioned this, and was told that these horses sometimes did the same.

While talking to the trainer in one of the barns, an alarm like an ambulance siren started sounding over the loudspeakers.  The trainer started saying how awful it is when you just sent a horse out to exercise and that sounds, because you're afraid it's broken down.  The siren kept sounding, and we walked to another barn where a groom said that it was a loose horse alarm.  Minutes later a voice came over saying that a horse was loose at ____ and belonged to barn __.

And on to Ring Work.

I hate working in the ring.  Peanut hates working in the ring.  Peanut probably hates working in the ring because I hate working in the ring.

Today, after this funny bright thing appeared in the sky, I rode canter figure eights with simple lead changes in the middle.  The transitions were not as clean as could be, and not as quick as could be, but he took the correct lead every time.  I could tell that he took the correct leads too, as the two leads feel so different.  The left lead is smooth and lovely, the right lead is the rocking horse canter which is still smooth and lovely to the non-gaited set.

We can still get both leads well.

I'm tired of the ring, and the thick sand footing makes me worry about his tendons.  I don't know if I'm really interested in going further in the ring.  Does a trail horse really need to know more?  I do need to work on transitions (hint: I suck), but man I hate the ring.