Why I'm glad Cricket isn't my horse any more...

Sigh. I promised Wayne I would do something to try to change my perspective on Cricket, since he loves him so much and is getting sick of my biting sarcasm and snarky remarks about his horse. Cricket and I have a bit of a history, and I'm really, really good at holding grudges. It's all very silly considering Cricket is a horse and probably didn't do anything wrong on purpose....but I still hold a grudge all the same.

When Cricket was my horse, I saved up and sent him to a very reputable trainer in the area. It sounded like things had been going well, and I wanted to bring Cricket home at the end of his 90 days. She himmed and hawed about it, and I wondered what the deal was. I decided I would go out and ride him and we'd make the decision then (but I was pretty deadset on bringing him home). Almost as soon as I'd mounted, he bolted and crowhopped across the arena and scared me silly. The trainer won, and he ended up staying another two months. Things went much better when I rode him the second time.

He came home, things went pretty well considering. Considering he was still afraid of his own shadow, and any quick movements in his proximity still caused him to scoot around like a greenie. We progressed, though, until I left for a week for spring break. The time off allowed him to regress...a LOT, and we almost had to start over from square one. Suddenly he was afraid of EVERYTHING, and the saddle, bridle, me, caused him to overreact to epic proportions. We'd start to make progress again only to have him come unglued at another formerly inert thing the next day. I was frustrated, but determined not to let him "win." I was driven to tears more than once and felt like I was going crazy.

One nice day, I decided he'd made enough progress we could once again go into the outdoor arena. It was warm, so I wore my brand new summer-weight riding helmet, tights, and boots and half chaps (I'd gotten them all on sale the previous fall when they were no longer in season). We did out customary groundwork, and he seemed to be half asleep, so I dragged him over to the mounting block and I hopped on. Almost the second my butt hit the saddle, he started trotting off. I calmly asked him to walk, which is when he determinedly took the bit and took off at a full gallop out of control bolt across the very large arena. This is when I made the stupid decision to bail after I could not get him to stop. I probably should have stayed on, but the sheer panic overtook me and I was afraid he'd either try to jump the fence into the adjacent field or stop suddenly and put me over the fence into the adjacent field. I ditched and hit the ground with incredible force and speed and tumbled a few times before coming to a very painful stop. After spitting out the gravel and dirt, I laid there trying not to focus on the pain when I realized I couldn't see anything at all--my glasses had come off during the fall. I had a very "Christmas Story"-esque moment while I crawled around feeling for my glasses, and when I found them I forgot about the pain and was only angry. It was a nearly new pair of glasses and they were ruined. I marched over to Cricket and grabbed him and went marching up to the house to get help from the barn owners. I was faintly aware of a growing bump on my right forearm just below my elbow and was a little concerned I had broken something. As soon as the barn owner saw me I lost it completely. She drove me to the hospital where I kept it all together pretty well until they put me on the stretcher in a neck brace.

All in all, it was a pretty traumatic experience. I only had scrapes and bruises (thank God), but had road rash all down my right side and forehead. My biggest problem was that I felt betrayed by my horse. Knowing Cricket as I do now, I wonder if he knew what he was doing when he took off--he's always been a horse that thrived on getting people frustrated and worked up. I don't think he intended to hurt me, though, just intended to get a rise out of me.

This brings us to today. Well, yesterday. After my fabulous ride with Jasper all by ourselves, I got a wild hair and decided to work Cricket when I got back. We did some groundwork, and I was so thrilled with his response I decided to see if I could get him in the trailer. Big mistake. I'd started and couldn't stop until I was successful. It took two hours.

Today I told Wayne I don't feel safe riding with just him and Cricket because Jasper and I are often used as a barricade when he can't control Cricket (which is more often than I'd like). I thank God Jasper has stood his ground every time, but I'm worried it's just a matter of time before he loses it (Cricket chases him around the field pretty viciously). Needless to say, he felt rebuffed and I felt bad and so I invited him to come with me today. But we couldn't get Cricket in the trailer, and the shadows were getting longer and longer. I'd long since resolved myself to having to ride in the arena, and settled in the barn with Jasper and JJ as they munched hay to wait for Wayne to finish or give up. He wanted my help, but I told him I was at the end of my knowledge with dealing with Cricket and the Trailer.

Since we had resolved ourselves to riding in the arena, out of curiosity I asked Wayne to saddle Cricket and bring him in. I wanted to see how bad Cricket had gotten, and to see if there was any hope left for him as my husband's mount. I showed him how to do a few basic maneuvers (like asking Cricket to break at the poll instead of letting him stick his indignant little nose in the air), and told him to mount and prepare for a fight. He mounted as Cricket characteristically sidepassed and started trotting while Wayne was only partway on. He asked Cricket to break at the poll and suddenly it was like Cricket clicked into his "professional" mode and started behaving himself. I showed Wayne a few other concepts he hadn't gotten before (like having Cricket do smaller circles when he started trotting too quickly), and the two of them worked for over an hour. I was impressed, and suddenly the future wasn't looking so bleak for the spotty terror. Wayne even dismounted twice and remounted and Cricket planted his feet until he was asked to move forward. Success! I told Wayne we're nowhere near out of the woods yet--and that I think the two of them should stick in the arena for a while until he's got the stopping and steering a little more under control.

Ack. What have I undertaken here...