I drove in to the show grounds before 6 the next morning, a bit concerned what I would find.
As I walked into Hooverville, Klaus and Cap nickered at me. Good sign. They probably wouldn't nicker if they were dead.
Klaus was still in his stall. His stall was still upright. There was a nice large pile of piles behind his hind legs, a wet spot in the appropriate place, and nary another single shaving out of place.
He obviously hadn't moved all night long. Poor guy.
Cap had water left and some hay still, and obviously had moved around a bit, so I wiggled into Klaus's stall, got the halter over his head, and took him out for a chance to stretch his legs a bit before his breakfast.
He walked quite quickly, his large head swinging over mine as he gawked, not sure which side offered the more interesting view. We walked up the drive between the two rings and out to the grassy field past the parking lot. There I walked him around for a while, letting him have a bite or two of grass whenever he calmed himself to notice there was some underfoot.
What have I gotten myself into? Because, in addition to his other peculiarities, Klaus didn't lunge. I had a lot of energy at my... disposal.
After a while, I figured I should get back to stabling, get the horses their grain and stalls mucked and prepare for the day. I stuck Klaus back into his claustrophobic hidey-hole, gave them both their breakfasts and fresh water, and picked Cappy's stall while he ate. With Klaus working his way through more hay, I decided to take Cap for a stroll of the grounds.
Cappy walked at my side, a little up but not too bad considering the newness of his surroundings and the strangeness of it all. He was happy to take advantage of the grass whenever I offered it to him, and all in all I was pleased with his acclimation to what was going on.
I put Cap away and cleaned Klaus's stall as best I could; I couldn't really get to his wet spot very well when he was in there. I then double checked their water and wandered off to find morning sustenance of my own.
There were several riders already schooling by the time I got Cappy out and tacked up, so he could take a turn around the rings and see the goings-ons. I was hoping to take him in a flat class if all went well. I climbed aboard and rode him up the drive between the two rings. Cappy hardly knew which way to stare as horse went hurtling past on both sides. His anxiety level was high. There were fewer horses in the large ring with jumps, so I decided to head there.
Poor Cappy had not shared a confined riding space before, really. While I did occasionally ride with another horse at JS's farm, we generally stayed out of each other's way. Here, poor "used to being at the bottom of the pecking order" Cappy was in the ring with other horses, and all was not sunshine and butterflies.
Cappy cowered against the fence as horses cantered over jumps, ears pinned as they swept down the line and approached him. Oh. My. Gosh! They are coming for me! What did I even DO? Where can I go? Why won't you let me run away?! That chestnut looks really pissed. AHH! He's charging me again! Meltdown was imminent.
I took him in the other ring, but that was not much better. Apparently, hunter people don't really care whether the horses liked their jobs or not, because they all went around with pinned ears that Cappy interpreted as pinned at him. Any horse passing head to head caused a dramatic downgrade in forward momentum, and a magnetic pull to cowering into the fence.
This is not working.
Ahh! ... Ahhh! ... AAAHHHHH!!
Leaving the arenas, I rode my keyed up, quivering mass of horseflesh down to the grassy field past the parking lot, and let him trot. He relaxed immediately and settled right in to work. He trotted, cantered, and was happy as a clam.
Hmmm. Obviously, I am going to have to get this horse some riding-mates. He needs to learn that other horses in the ring aren't going to touch him.
Realizing that there would be no show for him today, I walked him out in the field. It was disappointing to not be able to give him any experience in the ring, but it was quite obvious there would be no value in trying to ask him to hold it together in a class. At least he was relaxed out in this strange place. Well, the field anyway, as long as there were no horses around.
sigh.
I decided to start my warmup on Klaus a bit early, as he would have quite a bit of extra energy to expend. I went ahead and got my show clothes on, tacked up the beast, and climbed aboard. For all his faults, Klaus was pretty reliable about holding still as you got on. After that, however, you never knew what you might have. I was hoping today was a "no piaffe" or "no canter pirouette" kind of day.
It turned out to be a "no way in hell am I walking down the driveway between two scary arenas" kind of day.
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