Since I've started leasing Ox, I've gotten increasingly appreciative of his owner and her knowledge. We vary on a few things, but she's overwhelmingly consistent in the "making Beka a better rider" department.
On Saturday, we were at the barn at the same time, tacking up. It was unplanned, but it's always nice to have someone else around. She worked outside the ring, and I kept Archie in the litter box.
And Archie wasn't being bad. He wasn't scaring me, I wasn't frightened from my recent fall, there was no real trigger. But I asked trail buddy/Ox's owner if she wanted to ride him. Which, I mean, if you've known me any length of time, you know is a BFD.
She had his number almost immediately. He evaded from the bit by inverting, he told her to go fly a kite (I like to think that he only tells me to fuck myself), and he gave his little spastic crowhopping canter departs of dissent. That's my boy.
|These have accompanying farts.|
There was a point where I said to myself, "I need to ask as much of Ox as I do of Archie." And then that transitioned to me doing more intense work with Ox and Archie just toddling around with his back hollow and now it's.. I need to ride Archie like I ride Ox.