Rain, rain, rain...

Don't get me wrong. I love having my horses at my house. In fact, if I had the means to, I would never board my horses again. It is a lot of fun having people to ride with. It is fantastic having classy facilities to use that you didn't have to buy. And it's always nice to have someone that will feed your horse if you're sick or if you need to go out of town.

However, there's nothing like being able to look out your window and watch the sun glint off your horse's back as it rises/sets. There's nothing like getting home from a long day and having quizzical faces demand you feed them before you get a chance to rest and eat dinner yourself. There's nothing like being able to make all decisions without having to clear them with anyone- if I want to leave my horse in the round pen during the day, I do. If I want to put her on stall rest for 24 hours, I do. If I want to run through my pasture wearing only a bikini and mud boots and wave my arms like a chicken at my horses while making high pitched noises, I do. Not to mention the fact that during any sort of natural disaster, sickness, or other emergency, they are only a few steps away.

But boy do I miss having a covered arena!!!

I absolutely refuse to complain about any rain we receive, since there was such a shortage of it last summer. Paying upwards of $12/bale for hay really puts things into perspective. But all of this rain, while being a very good thing, definitely limits my riding/training time with Sienna. On top of not being able to ride when it is raining (which has been happening for several days in a row, lately), my round pen is set up in such a place that it floods and stays very sloppy in the bottom "corner" (yeah, it's not as round as it once was). I've had several close calls while riding on what looked like dry ground that was discovered to be mush when Sienna slipped almost out from under me. Not to mention that I live in a flood plain, so when we get a lot of water, the horses don't have many dry places to go. We do better than a lot of our neighbors, but if I had to evacuate during a flood... I couldn't. Not without swimming the horses (and dogs, and cat) through. But I digress.

If I am ever blessed with my own property and future equines, I definitely want to build a cover arena. I know, I need to start saving up like, 10 years ago. But seriously. I feel like as far along as Sienna is now, she could be even further if we didn't have to take so much time off for the weather. We could possibly be getting our leads down now instead of still working on cantering off on command. She's doing much better on that now (minus almost bucking me off Sunday). But, you have to make do with what you have, and she is doing remarkably well despite our inconsistent schedule.

Speaking of Sunday, my last few rides have been... interesting. Sunday, my parents came up to fix my riding mower (battery was completely dead). They had not met Sienna yet, so I dragged her from the way back of the pasture to say hello. Since they had some time, I saddled her up so they could see everything I had done with her. Things started out great- she showed off her pivot, she flexed well, jogged around happily, tra la la. What I did not take into consideration, however, was that was our first canter-ride where I did not longe her before hand. Oops! I set her up, asked her to canter- and then we bucked the whole way around the pen. I laughed it off, as these were not very big bucks, and kicked- trying to rile her up, as it was- and I was rewarded with a humongo buck that threw me out of the seat and made me lose my right stirrup, followed by several more bucks. I had a vision of me flying into the side of the round pen while she ran by without me. However, I managed to gather myself and get back into the saddle, pick up my stirrup, and keep going. Apparently it didn't look like much to the bystanders (it never does), but it was a pretty close call for me.

After my parents left, Sienna got a good longing in- and then we tried again. She was still hesitant about the right lead, but she picked the left lead up immediately. It was a good note to end on (and, my parents decided to come back so that my dad could mow my grass and my mom could take me to lunch- everyone won (except maybe my dad)!).

Our ride in the pen Monday was excellent- no bucking, and better canter pick ups. I decided to cool her off by riding through the pasture, which I've done before, only this time I thought I'd cross the ravine and go ride over to the barn. I figured she was a big girl, she could handle it, even though Bo and Chica stayed on the round pen side. It wasn't like I was riding in unfamiliar territory, after all.

I figured wrong.

We barely got to the ravine, and she was already walking along on tip-toe, staring at the familiar strip of land like it was the newest, scariest thing in the world. We started serpentine-ing down the ravine, since that was the only way she would walk forward- and then a burst of NOTHING happened, but we were suddenly in reverse. And we stayed in reverse. Like, she forgot that horses usually move by going forward. It was a strange sensation. So, being the stubborn female that I am, I dismounted and we HAULED it through the ravine. I then remounted on the other side, and we kept on course.

But! But! The cows in the pasture next door were mooing! "They've never mooed before!" cried Sienna. Her attention was only on them as we tried to make it a few more steps. My landlord and her children took this time to go out into their backyard, where they had a great view of us. We trotted in circles, strangely drifting closer and closer to the ravine on each circle- she hadn't forgotten that her amigos were waiting on the other side. I started digging into her with my leg, and she responded by kicking at me. Or, at least as at me as she could while I was sitting on her. Someone didn't give her the memo that I don't like that kind of thing. So we did more circles, and then we longed, with me just holding onto the reins. By this point she was all hyped up, and every time she got to the ravine side, she either stopped and faced me or she freaked, simply put. It was frustrating, considering how great our ride had started out. At one point she strided up to me and I backed that thang up while screaming "STAY OUT OF MY SPACE!". It was a show for the non-horse landlords, to say the least. I'm sure I looked like the Wicked Witch of the West, getting after the poor horse who was "not doing anything wrong!". However, I could feel that she was a ticking time bomb in those moments, ready to throw my butt and haul it back to her friends. Her mind was COMPLETELY gone. We longed and backed some more, and then I got on again, and we sat. Quietly. For about 5 minutes. Then I got off and we showmanshipped all the way back across the ravine. For every 3 steps we took forward, we took 5 back. Or we pivoted. Or we stopped and set up. Anything to remind her that I was the one to be worried about- not the absent horses.

I got back on after we crossed the ravine, and the rest of the ride was uneventful. I'm not sure we'll be trying that again for a while, at least not until we have a more consistent foundation. Maybe the weather will be nice to us for the next few weeks- but again, I'll take whatever rain I can get!

Maybe I can convince my landlords to cover our arena. Right after they repair the fences, take down the deer feeder, repair the stall door, repair the outside run...