Wish I had that one back...

Looking through old pictures from jackpots back during my high school days make me run the full gamut of emotions--from sentimental to smiling, giggling to bawling. A picture of me on Slick at Nowata reminded me of the first time I ever won the 1D on him---the picture wasn't of that winning run, but of the week before it, when I was a half second off of placing in the 1D. I fell in the crack between the 1D and the 2D that week, but was determined to ride better and not fall in the crack next week when we ran.
I was so proud that my horse was coming along so well! I'd only started him on barrels a few months before that, and was the only one who'd ever taken him through the barrels. Slick was really laid back that evening, and was a breeze to warm up. He'd progressed to the point that I just hauled and ran him, no more exhibitions before we ran. The ground was always good there, and my horse felt awesome under me. He felt waspy, just full of energy. He wasn't trying to run off or buck, but he sure wanted to move! Three or four really tough horses ran before us, but I always made it a point then not to watch the "competition"...I guess it was a mental thing for me then, just like it is now. (I was horrible about not catching the times that I ran then, I always just hung around to see if my name was called.)
When it finally came our turn, we were at the bottom of the ground, but that wasn't much of an issue there because it was always so deep and they watered it so well most of the time. I knew we were going to make an awesome run after he turned the first barrel-I could hardly catch my breath to smooch him around the second barrel! I was carrying a bat, and swatted him once going to the third barrel--I thought he was running hard before, but he grabbed a higher gear I didn't know he had! Just as quick as he had hit that stride, he rated then blew out of the third hard enough that I lost a stirrup. I kicked for all I was worth all the way to the end of the arena. I sat back and quietly said the magic word..."Whoa." ....He slid half the length of the alley way, sending up rooster tails of dirt and groans and grumbles from the girls dumb enough to set right next to the gate and the alley way. I don't think you could've knocked the smile off my face with a baseball bat! I hadn't even been listening for the announcer to read off our time, I was too busy listening to my friends hooping and hollering at me, and let me tell ya, it was a GREAT feeling! I wouldn't let anyone tell me what we ran, I just swung down and started to uncinch my horse. He was in great shape, not even breathing too hard. By the time we got back to the trailer he was ready to graze, not too worried at all about anything. I took his boots off and let him graze around the trailer for a minute. As he ambled around at the end of his lead rope, he started sniffing for a spot to roll in. He rolled in the road around the arena, it must have been just the right type of sand, he seemed reluctant to get back up! I let him shake off then tied him up and went in search of a water hydrant to fill my little pink bucket. After drinking two full buckets, Slick resigned himself to a little hay and a nap before the ride home.
I sat in a lawn chair and tried not to listen to the times as the remaining girls ran-I was so nervous I could hardly sit still! There had been around 30 or 40 girls there that evening, with a lot of them being open caliber horses that rarely placed below the 1D. The last horse left the arena, and the announcer told every one they'd take a minute and have the results for us. They were pretty efficient, just 10 minutes later they started reading off the winners....first came first through third in the 4D...then the same for the 3D and the 2D. I felt like I was going to be sick! They'd read the 4D, 3D and the 2D, and I hadn't heard my name called yet. They started to read the 1D off as I sat on a big railroad tie, Slick's lead rope rested at my feet as he grazed behind me. They took their time to read third and second place, making sure to tell who won and what their times had been, even telling how much they'd won. I was on my way back to the trailer when I heard them announce, "And the winner of the 1D with a 16.43"....ME!!!! I jumped and squealed like I'd won the lottery, to the point of spooking my poor horse. He was sure he was about to get beat for something, after all, the only time he'd ever seen my jump around and holler was when I was furious! I couldn't hardly believe it-I tied him up to the trailer again, then ran all the way to the announcer's stand. Sure enough, I'd heard right! They had the most beautiful white envelope I'd ever seen waiting on me, with my name written across it in pretty blue ink! Let me tell ya, if I'd been able to do cartwheels, I'd have done them all the way back to the truck. I'd placed before, and won my fair share from the 4D all the way to the bottom of the 1D, but I'd never won first in the 1D before. I think I may have used all of my cell phone minutes for the month that night, I called everyone I knew! I was ecstatic!! The only person more excited than me was my Daddy, he'd given Slick to me before he went on a pipe line job the fall before, just as something to keep me occupied. "Keep him legged up for me, play around and take him through the barrels if you want." He'd had no clue that he'd turn into a seriously competitive horse in less than a year, especially with little more than "local" hauling and limited seasoning.
Part of my excitement was due to the fact that I'd trained this horse myself, the other was that I'd just a few months back sworn off barrel horses all together. A little mare that I'd been riding had flipped over backwards with me, ruining me on barrel horses as a collective group for awhile. I'd always loved rope horses, Daddy always had one or two around ever since I'd been born. They were so laid back and easy going, they were such a welcome break from the hot headed, hind leg walking bunch of barrel horses that I went through. To this day, I don't like to buy a "finished" barrel horse. It's too hard to find one that isn't crippled or crazy!
Slick was my dream horse. Something that I could turn out for a month, then catch him and leg him up, then haul him to a jackpot and get the money on him. He was pretty as they come, halter bred of all things. Coosanova and Dontcha Luv Quincy. He'd been in AQHA Western Pleasure classes his three year old year, but obviously hadn't really fit in that world. He was one of a kind, that was for sure. Heading, heeling, steer roping, those were all old hat to him when I started him on barrels. I'd rather take a team roping horse that's been there and done that and start them any day over a goofy 3 or 4 year old that's never been anywhere!
I have no doubt that in the right hands Slick could've easily carried his rider to the NFR. He was just that good. I think about him alot, more than I should I suppose. He was my constant in those last crazy years of high school, the only thing that kept me at home. I knew if I left home that the horse couldn't go with me, so I toughed it all out so that I could keep my horse. My dad would give him to me a few years later, just for me to give him right back after some family problems. He was sold to a family in Arizona back in the spring of 2005, shortly before I married my husband and found out we were expecting our first baby.
For all the happiness ahead of me, I realized that I had a little hole in my heart. I'd gone to the barn and rode him for a week or two, just to tune him up before he went west, and it may have been one of the hardest things I've ever done. As I unclipped him from the cross ties for the very last time, he refused to move, seemingly frozen in place. Naturally thinking the worse, I thought something was wrong, and began to feel joints and legs, feeling for a heightened pulse and everything in between. Nothing seemed to be wrong, he simply wouldn't budge. My emotions got the best of me when I realized that this was the last time I'd ever put him up in "his" stall, and that I'd never get to fill his water buckets or hang his hay bag again. I stood and sobbed into his mane like a little girl, to this day I'm not sure how long he stood there with me. My cell phone rang quite unceremoniously, breaking me out of my stupor. The call was from my dad, letting me know that the folks wanted him there a day earlier, that they'd already sent a bank transfer for the full amount for the horse, and that the trailer to Arizona would be there within the hour. after the call ended, I gave him a kiss on the nose and walked out of the barn. As I shut the door behind me, I heard him nicker down the the alley-and I lost it again. I couldn't go back though, it was time to move on. I kept his halter, that was the one thing I couldn't part with. It hangs in our tack room now. I don't have the heart to put it on any other horse--the lead rope is on my husband's rope halter for his sorrel horse.
*A black nylon halter with leopard trim on the nose band and cheeks isn't something that looks great on a dark gray horse, so for now, I'm happy to look at it hanging on the wall.*

Before I start my gripe, let me say this first.
About 5 or 6 years ago, I had an extremely aggressive gelding. He wasn't a problem if he was saddled and being ridden, but if you tied him up where other horses would be walking or moving around him, he was a demon. Kicking, biting, squealing--he was a huge pain in the ass. That being said, if I hauled him anywhere at all away from home, he was NEVER tied around other horses. I just didn't do it. It didn't matter if I had to walk a half a mile to and from the arena, he didn't get the option to be a jerk to everyone else's horses while we were there. If it was raining/cold/sleeting, I put him in the trailer. He was better off in there, he couldn't bite, kick, squeal or hurt anyone that way. He couldn't hurt himself, or more importantly, anybody else, or anybody else's horse. I would've been absolutely mortified if he had ever hurt another horse because I was too lazy to tie him up outside at my trailer. I never once had a problem with him, in the 3 years that I hauled him. I just assumed it was my responsibility as the owner of an aggressive, some what neurotic gelding to keep him away from ALL the other horses around.
*NOW*
Here comes my gripe--
I have a very meek and mild sort of gelding that I'm running barrels on now. He's on the bottom of the totem pole at our house, and because of that, he gets his own pen. When he's turned out with our other geldings, he has to be fed apart from the other two-or he gets whipped. Plain and simple. He's a lover, not a fighter I guess! He's very easily "cowed" I suppose you could say, and he has a VERY high sense of self preservation!
I've had this horse right at five months-and haven't really had the time to "click" with him. I've taken him to some local jackpots here lately, and we've been improving a little each time. Friday night, I took him to a jackpot, and made the best run we've ever made. Needless to say, I was ecstatic. After our run, I was cooling my horse off and stopped for just a second to visit with an old friend about a horse she used to run. In the 10-15 seconds it took to loosen my front and back cinches, a horse tied across the fence decided that my horse was in his bubble. We were on the other side of the fence, completely at the opposite end from where he was tied. Here he came, teeth bared, squealing, front feet flying at the pipe rails...what did my dear sweet Woodrow do? He shagged ass! He made it clear in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to stay there and let psycho sorrely eat me for dinner, I was more than welcome to, but he wanted NO part of it! Fast forward to 30 MINUTES LATER-I was again, on the other side of the fence, opposite end from where psycho sorrely was tied. Once again, he decided poor Woodrow was in his bubble, but this time decided to try to kick over the fence at him. Freaked Woodrow out again, he pulled back (something he's never done since I've owned him) and of course, thrashed like a fish on the end of a line. He thrashed so hard and was so scared, he bashed himself off of the fence, and of course tore the right side of his head up. His eyelid got a chunk torn out of it right at the lash line, and about 3/4 of the hide above his right eye was peeled off. He hit the fence so hard that he has pink streaks across his forehead under his forelock part of the fence was painted red-he hit it so hard it rubbed off). His right eye lid is now puffed up to the size of a softball, no telling how bad he's going to need a chiropractor! I was afraid he'd cracked his poll, I've seen several horse that have pulled back and had to be put down because of their violent thrashing. I realize that it was partly my fault, I should've had him somewhere else I suppose.
**What really gets me though, is that this sorrel horse that freaked mine out so bad, had been doing this same thing ALL night! Squealing, trying to bite across the fence, kicking at anything that moved. I don't know how many people remarked at how horrible he was. I understand when a horse is herd bound, really I do! This guy seemed to be almost mentally challenged as soon as his buddy was bridled and ridden away. He weaved, pawed, screamed-everything you can imagine because he was so upset at being left alone. At one point, there was a woman (I'm assuming a friend of his owner) who stood for over 30 minutes with him, across the fence of course, trying to calm him down and keep him from screaming. I realize who ever owned him had just as much of a right for him to be tied there as I had to tie mine ALL THE WAY DOWN THE FENCE from him, but come on! He had almost a six or seven foot stretch of the fence all to himself because he was so awful! NO ONE in their right mind would tie their horse directly across the fence from him, or even on the same side as him, it was ridiculous.
I think the thing that bothered me the most, was that who ever owned psycho sorrely had no respect for the rest of us that were there. She (or he, I don't know!) couldn't have possibly thought, "Oh, Shnookums will be just fine while I sit in the warm up pen for an hour with his buddy out of site!" Really, I used to have a neurotic horse myself. Guess what-he stood tied OUTSIDE-to my TRAILER!! NOT INSIDE WHERE HE COULD BE A NUISANCE AND A DANGER TO EVERYONE AROUND!!!
Friday was the first time I felt like I'd "clicked" with my horse. Now?? Bless his heart, it's going to be at least a month before I even TRY to ride him. I guess it's selfish of me, being pregnant means that I have a smaller and smaller window to be able to compete, and now, it's almost shut. I care more about him than to try to ride him when he's hurt, but in a month, who knows what will be going on?? It kills me to walk outside and see him with his head drooping, like he knows that he's on the injured list. He literally jumped into the trailer that night, and was dancing all four feet in place after he got in, he was SO excited to be going somewhere. He loves his job, and now all he can do is stand around and heal. He's doing great, taking his meds like a trooper, his appetite is great, he doesn't act like he feels too bad. I just want to stand in his pen with his head in my hand and kiss him and tell him it's okay! LOL-ok, and maybe bawl a little.
*I think that might be hormones, too, not gonna swear to it though!*
I have a few people interested in buying him, and now that's put on the back burner as well. I'm not going to let anyone try him, until I know for sure that he's 100% back to his A game. I guess I shouldn't let it get to me, that it shouldn't bother me like it does. So many people would point out that "You're pregnant, you have so many things that are more important than that horse!"
I guess in some ways I suppose they're right, but to me-that horse is like one of my kids! I've been working SO hard to get him in shape, and try to get in a groove with him, before I get to big to run him anymore. Oh sure, I'll still ride when I'm farther along, but I know not everyone is happy with my choice to still be competing, even at this point. My timing isn't off, my balance hasn't shifted yet, so I don't feel at all like I'm putting me or this baby in danger. I trust my horses, both of them for that matter! I'm very aware of my own limitations, and I really wish that people would stop underestimating me. I don't know if I don't buy into the concept of pregnancy making a woman weak and vulnerable, or if I like to think I can handle MY life. I know what I'm capable of, I always have. Why is it when a woman becomes pregnant that everyone else in her life gets the automatic right to tell her what she can and can't do?? I think that may go right up there with the people that think they can put their hand on your belly the minute you're showing---OH THAT DRIVES ME INSANE. If I wasn't pregnant, you wouldn't touch me, what make you think me having a baby growing in my belly changes things??
Me thinks I'm having a mood swing.....

Goodness-I do believe I may have neglected this blog for a bit.
Things are going along swimmingly! LOL We've sold a horse or two, some calves, got our nurse cow turned out for the forseeable future, so we have considerably less to do around here.
It's not much fun without Clementine (our nurse cow) around, but oh well.

Ick. Just ick. No other words, just ick.
Okay, maybe a few words other than, well, you get it by now.
So, the ranch rodeo?? It was ok, we did better than we expected, not as well as we had hoped.
I've been riding Woodrow, actually entered a barrel race last Sunday. Didn't make a great first barrel, but the second and third were awesome. We ran a 16.1, which I thought was great for our first time entering. We did have a few little kinks, but it was a short pattern so we made it up pretty easy. I was ecstatic after we came out of the arena, it had been so long since I had been good at something! I'm still entered for the big amateur rodeo, and I also entered an even bigger 6D jackpot for the same weekend. I'm up during the week for the amateur rodeo, and then up Saturday for the jackpot. I hope I can work all the kinks out of ME before then. I'm having a heckuva time remembering to sit up and R_I_D_E!!!! I went to a little playday last night, and didn't make real good runs. I entered us in the barrels and poles....I made a decent first barrel, hit the second, and went a little too wide on the third. I'm struggling with giving him the right size pocket, and getting over myself and letting him work. He has a solid pattern, he WILL NOT run by a barrel or a pole, but I can't help but try to shut him down before he starts to turn. He's so quick that I get a big case of the Chicken Shits, and my heart shrinks to the size of my little finger! I can tell it frusterating my horse--heck, it's frusterating me!!
I suppose the only thing to do is to get off my butt and ride him. I was embarrassed last night....
Jeeze. I'm cranky this morning because of last night, and I genuinely feel like crap! LOL
I spent my day cleaning on my house yesterday, I don't think I'm going to do much of anything today...maybe ride this evening here at home.....Hmm....BLAH! Oh yeah, and--ICK!!

I'm the sort of girl that jumps into stuff feet first, eyes shut, fingers clamped over my nose, praying I'll be able to see the bubbles and figure out which way is up!!!

__________________________

That being said, I'll get to the central topic here. I entered a BIG BIG BIG amateur rodeo.

On Woodrow. I entered the barrel race AND the pole bending. I've ridden Woodrow a total of 3 times now...Jeez. I really hope I'm not going to push him too hard, I'm trying to be patient about this, but goodness it's hard to do. If I have to, I'll ride my other horse just for the heck of it. It's not like he couldn't use the trip to town! I'm hoping between now and then I'll be able to really get in the groove of things with Woodrow, and that he'll be ready when the time comes.

We've just been walking and trotting these last few nights, simple stuff really.

I even had my husband ride him around night before last, he thinks he needs more, "Manners".

Yeah, I'll keep you posted on how that goes! Jeez-he backs up crooked once, and he's a dink for life! I had to remind him, "He's a B_A_R_R_E_L Horse! He hasn't had to work for a living like our other two horses have, he just doesn't know any better!"

SO, any who, this should be fun!
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I can even START to express how excited I am for this women's ranch rodeo! I know all of the girls on my team are excited, too! I am so ready to get back into the competition aspect of things. Four years--It's been over four years since I've entered anything. That would astound the 18 year old me, that I would go that long without entering anything! Oh sure, there were times back then that I'd be short on funds, and would go a few weeks without hauling to anything, but it sure was never as long as this last spell! I'm just giddy over it! I don't know how else to describe it...I'm a little nervous, but I'm not a nervous person by nature. I think it's more the anticipation that has me all amped up, not really nerves so much. That whole weekend is going to be a blast-
A barbecue and dance to kick it all off, then a day full of ranch rodeos, then the big event...
the memorial steer roping. The steer roping is near and dear to my little ole heart because it's a memorial roping for my Grandad. Ironic really, the arena it's being held at was named in honor of my uncle, and the roping is for my Grandad. Well, anyway, here's to barrel races and ranch rodeos, and many great rides in between!

Updates

*Woodrow Update*

His knee is much better--*Enter big sigh of relief here!*
He didn't really cut anything but hide on the side of his knee-the pressure from sticking his leg between a pipe and a weld-on panel just basically sheared (is that the word I'm going for? LOL) the skin from the outside edge of his knee for about three inches. My heart dropped to my stomach when I first saw him, basically because his leg was covered in blood. After he was cleaned up and covered in pink medicine, I realized that he wasn't even limping. I had to fight the urge not to drop to my knees and say, "THANK YOU JESUS!!!"
...So, now that you know I'm somewhat overly emotional and prone to religous outbursts, here's the fun part---My other horse, Smoke, that's going to be my main mount for the ranch rodeo, hasn't been ridden in a week! JOY-he'll probably act like an idiot when I get on him tonight.
Oh well-as humid as it is, I bet he won't put up too much of a fight!

Here they are world--my goals for my horses (and me!)

1. Keep up my work with Smoke.
He's really starting to come around, but he needs at least 2-3 days of work a week. He's so much better about his leads, stopping, backing (we still back a little cock eyed sometimes, it's a work in progress!) flexing-all the things he needs to know to be a nice barrel prospect. He's trotted the pattern a few times, more walking than anything else. I'm a firm believer that a solid foundation for a barrel horse comes from walking and trotting the pattern, because they can learn to run on their own. I've never had a horse that didn't understand the running as hard as they could aspect! Once they realize they CAN run, and that they're not going to be pulled up, it's just a matter of time before they really start trying. I can feel it in Smoke even now. I'm excited!
WOO HOO! SUMMER FINALLY GOT HERE!
2. Ride Woodrow as much as possible to get "with" him.
Woodrow is my new barrel horse. He's got some issues, but he's a gentleman when he's under saddle. I haven't really ridden a *real* barrel horse since 2004, before I gave my horse back to my dad, after which he promptly sold him, LOL. I have to fight the urge to drag him to every nickel and dime jackpot around...it's so hard to tell myself no!
*THIS JUST IN*
I went outside about 30 minutes ago....to turn Woodrow out with the other geldings.
Looks like about 15 minutes or so before I came out, he hung a leg in the fence, and of course, it's sliced like an apple at a day care center. Well, I'm TRYING to look on the bright side...at least I won't have to fight with myself to NOT take him to afore mentioned jackpots now!