Just Like Your Favorite Spot on the Sofa

Your own horse. The horse you've spent hour after hour sitting on. The horse you've poured blood, sweat, tears, and yes, let's face it, dollars, into. That horse's back is the most comfortable back in the world. I went up to ride Dee right before the New Year. She hadn't been ridden in a few weeks, and maybe just jumping on without lounging was't the most intelligent thing to do, but it was great to be on her again. She was, after all was said and done, not terrible. We had some airs above the ground, but she's grown up a lot. Two years ago, she would have probably been a rodeo star, but now she was just a little bit of a snot a couple times. Maybe now I understand her better, too, though. When she sucked back and started doing her weird head shake, lip-smack thing, I booted her in the ribs. When she shot forward and did her best impression of a capriole, I laughed, brought her back to a walk, composed her, and off we went again. I think we're both more comfortable these days. After I rode her, I got on one of the other horses. He was an adorable, pudgy, kind of short, warmblood looking thing. I had a total blast on him, but it's amazing to me how foreign it feels when you get up on another horse. Especially when that other horse has been trained by someone who's got a slightly different style. For instance, when I get up on one of Steph's horses, I can usually find the right buttons pretty quickly, and it's not quite as foreign because I'm at least used to how the horses she trains go. It took me a little longer to find Scooter's buttons, and I'm not entirely sure that I pushed them all correctly. BUT, he was sweet and fun anyway. Getting on Dee, on the other hand, was like settling into my favorite spot on the sofa. It was familiar, comfortable and predictable. I guess after a certain amount of time, even if you don't realize it, you start to learn the little "tells" before a spook or some other naughty gesture.