Dumped!

How was your show-jumping session with Owen today?

Well friend, I’m not terribly glad that you asked.

We worked in the outdoor arena. The session started with Tom spooking at a flock of killer equine-dissolving vampire pigeons (the kind that can come out in daylight) that were lurking with murderous intent beneath one of the boundary trees.

It took almost 20 minutes of working-in before Tom had forgotten them, had jammed his eyes back in to his head and his pulse had dropped back to somewhere near normal. But I couldn’t get his canter back; he was on his forehand and keen to gallop strongly, not particularly interested in achieving the collected, bouncy, off-the-forehand show-jumping canter I was asking for.

Anyway, we worked through it and, with some fine-tuning from Owen, we jumped a challenging track that he’d built to test us in preparation for Saturday.

However, on a pass over an altered track (because Owen does like to keep us on our toes), we were in the air over a skinny (a very narrow fence) which we’d reached off a very nicely collected, forward-going canter, when a person with two dogs on leads walked around the corner a couple of metres in front of where we were going to land (but they were outside the arena, obv).

Tom has obviously not seen people and/or dogs before. He did a massive spook.

Except we were in mid-air.

So as his left forefoot touched the ground, he wheeled around (yes, he actually did a 180-degree turn with just one foot on the ground. Owen later said he’d never seen that done before!), and then flashed off in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately I was still in the air and, equally unfortunately, unlike Tom, I was still subject to the immutable laws of gravity and physics.

So as Tom vanished from underneath me I found myself rapidly approaching the ground at a speed of around 25 mph and from a height of around 17-hands – plus the 4’3″ we were off the ground.

And believe me, that’s not only a long way to fall, it’s a fair old speed to be doing the falling at.

Anyway, it took four or five minutes before I’d got my breath back, I hopped back on and we rode the track three times. Owen changed it once more and we rode that once before calling it a day.

So now I’m back home.

The stiffness from the fall is beginning to set in; back, shoulders, neck, head, arms – all of these have been compromised in some way and suffering reduced mobility and a fair old amount of pain. I also had a biggish nose-bleed and bit my tongue, in to the bargain.

Tom, it must be said, was a total star. We jumped his little (big!) brown bottom off today; Owen threw everything at us – incorrectly-distanced related fences, spooky fillers, skinnies, severe angles and sharp corners.

I feel we’re just about perfectly prepared for Saturday’s one-day event. I’m under strict instructions to work Tom to the same high standard as one of Owen’s lessons, every day for the rest of the week – which could be tricky if I’m as stiff as an ironing-board for the next few days.

But that’s my problem, not his.