Straight and Narrow

J trotted around the perimeter of the ring on the bay horse. My friend K and I watched critically.

"He paddles."

"He REALLY paddles."

"Better through the water complex, I guess." I snorted a little under my breath.

I climbed aboard for my second ride on Cappy. I put him through all three gaits again, and he was simply an unbalanced and somewhat unhappy green horse. I stopped to talk to J.

"It's kind of small for him in here, isn't it?"

"I can haul him to the fairgrounds if you want to try him in a bigger ring," J offered.

"You've ridden him out a little bit here, haven't you?" I asked, fussing with the bight of my reins.

"Sure, a time or two. Why don't you ride him over by the field, and you can take him down by the creek if you like?"

We skirted the grassy edge of last year's field of leftover corn stalks. As he walked briskly along, I felt much better about this horse than I had in the ring. He moved forward with interest ~ until a large bush 30 feet ahead shook and made an unexpected noise.

He stopped, head flung, tensed. I tensed, not sure what this green horse with less than twenty rides would do when confronted with an amimated bush. I waited, legs still supporting at his sides but not cueing, curious and a bit concerned what his spook was going to be.

He suddenly sprung into a strong march towards the vegetation in question, ears pricked and eager. What was that? We walked past, and I steered him down the narrow path to the creek. He hesitated, then stepped into the water, and splashed out again as fast as was seemly. I walked him back up to the field. Neither one of us gave the previously noxious bush a second glance.

I asked J if there was a decent place to try a canter out. 

"You can ride in the field if you want. I have, the farmer doesn't mind."

May I just say, this fallen corn field was the perfect place to try a green horse? The ground was firm between the endless rows, which were well wide enough for the horse, even if he did paddle a bit. I picked up a trot, and was amazed by how smooth and balanced it felt. Gee, when this horse learns to balance himself, he'll be awesome. I asked for canter, and it was smooth, sure, balanced, powerful. He flicked an ear at the bush of strange noises as we swept past, but cantered on.

I can train this. He's smart and not crazy and really pretty nice. I want this horse.

I turned around, and asked for a canter on the other lead. He did not rush towards the barn, but cantered at a forward, green-horse pace. I stopped him when I got back to J and K. K was grinning.

"Well, actually, I've not really had him out here here. Just out in the pasture. He's being good though," I heard J say to K. "How was he at the creek?" she directed to me.

"Fine. Have you had him down there?"

"First time for everything."