Defecating oneself

Tomorrow Vin and I are going cross-country schooling.

Given his recent behavioural switch from all-round good (equine) guy to tanking at coloured poles at a speed that feels not too far removed from Mach 2.1, the thought of sitting on a 16.2hh Thoroughbred ex-racehorse as it eyes up a field full of 3’6″ fences which, let’s face it, are not going to fall over if we get it wrong and hit any of them, well… the thought is bowel-loopingly frightening.

But I have a cunning plan.

A cunning plan to deal with Vin’s ‘arguing every step of the way’ mindset; a cunning plan to get me through tomorrow’s cross-country training in one piece (and alive!).

My cunning plan is to take a short rein, work Vin in to a balanced, rhythmic canter, adopt a forward seat and sit very very quietly (which is my natural riding style anyway) and just let him get on with it.

If he gets too close to a fence and hits it or if he takes off too far away from a fence and he has to go on a long stride and (inevitably!) scares the living daylights out of himself, he’s just going to have to sort himself out.

Hurtling up to and over cross country fences is no place to try and sort out an equine’s manners! He’s just going to have to learn his lessons the hard way tomorrow.

Wish me luck!