Can he reach the grass?

With two weeks left before graduation, I bought Cappy. I knew my parents would not be very happy, but I wanted a horse, and I knew I could work with this horse. He was active without being crazy. He was athletic. He was smart. He was in my price range. Dirt cheap.

I was somewhat terrified as senior year was finishing up that if I didn't find a way to do something with horses, I would fall out of riding. I did not want to spend years doing office work and only later become a re-rider. I knew the fear that horses could cause and worried if I didn't stay in riding, my fear would be too great and I would never ride again. I wanted to stay in the game, and I wanted to event.

That was quite a burden for one little horse to carry. Fortunately, he wasn't aware of my baggage. And fortunately, I wasn't aware of all of his baggage. Things I did know:

He had been under saddle less than 20 times.
He was still very leery of people on his right side. He obviously had not been handled much before J got him.
He slept like the dead, and made little whale noises when he slept.
He was sketchy on the concept of grain.
He was sound at a PPE done on him a few months before.
He had a slightly big right knee.
He had a lot of scars, especially on his hind legs. He was healing from a cut when I met him, in fact.
He was 3 or 4 years old.
Most interesting of all: he didn't talk. He didn't nicker, neigh, or make any of the usual sounds. He did snort, however.

J trailered him up to my neighbors' place for me, and I gave her money and a handshake that the rest would be in her hands in a month or less. I grazed my new horse on the lawn, getting to know him. A touch on his right side had him sailing high and far away from me. He cast me a dirty look.
Sigh.

He spent a few days up at Marilyn's getting turned out in the paddock while I was back up at school. The vet came out to look at him, give him spring shots and pull another Coggins, and verified his age as four. Great! I can ride him more, then. Maybe start jumping in the fall. It was a mixed blessing, though. If he had been 3, there was a chance his withers would catch up to his hindquarters. Oh, well.

I had spoken with my dressage friend who had several nice Hanoverian/TB crosses, one of whom I had been riding since the previous summer. I told her about Cap, and his quirks and his conformation, uh, flaws. I knew when I tried him out, though, that even if his front end did not catch up to his hindquarters in height, he was still a very nice horse, and one I could enjoy. If he only ever could do trails, he would still be fun. I admit, though, that I really wanted to be able to compete with him. So I obsessed about his butt-highness, his knee, his short neck.

"Do you think his neck is too short?" I asked. (She hasn't even seen the horse in question.)

"Well, can he reach the grass?"

"Uh, well, yes." I laughed at her teasing. I needed to relax. Wait. He does seem to graze with one leg really forward. Is that because...?


Meanwhile, as this was exam week and I could drive home to see him more often, I had moved him down to the sheep fields. I wanted him to have plenty of space, and more grass, and to bond with me, not my neighbors.

I pulled in to the driveway and stared at him as I got out of the car. Yeah, he could reach the grass. He always stood downhill with his head out straight, so he didn't have far to stretch.

Oh, dear.