SORT OF So, Rebel was ridic last week — yes, yes, I know, I know, yes, I took him again, last Tuesday, and he was absolutely fine for 85% of the lesson. We were building up to this awesome thing, a series of jumps, one at E, then up and around to one at X, then down and around to one diagonal to the first one at X, and we did it really well over the poles, good lines in, and managed the round with the first jump at X, and then, coming from standing, I came around the long way from A, and I could feel him building and building, and by the time I’d yanked him round at K, I knew he was going to explode and he did, and Nikki told to me to get off, and I did.
She said it wasn’t my fault, and I know it wasn’t, and I know, I know, but seriously, I’ve learned my lesson.
So Sharon and I discussed swapping week to week for Amigo, and I thought I’d have him this Tuesday, but I didn’t and got Delilah.
Oh, Delilah. You were such a hard case in the beginning. It’s down to you though, that I started riding twice a week, so determined to ride you properly. So: I’m grateful.
But you’re so stiff and bouncy. And you must be on season or something, because once we cantered, you got very bolshy, and started leading with your head, and it became supremely uncomfortable.
And we were learning flying changes, and you must have thought you playing polocrosse or something, because the turns! The turns were like Formula 500 or something, and I barely got you to down to the trot at X so we could change legs.
Ah, well. I think we may have managed something close once. All the ‘sit back’ I thought was securely in my bum went out the arena doors, and I was flopping all over the place.
As I led her out, I moaned to Nikki, ‘Who else can I ride?’ Because I’m not taking Rebel again. Nope. Sure am not…