The Well Oiled Machine

I tacked my young guy and headed for the warm up arena. He walked along on a long rein, alert but well- behaved.

I overheard a woman right behind me saying,"Why can't you be calm and quiet like him?" I told her it was his first event.

She made complimentary noises about Cap, and somewhat disparging remarks about her own steed.

During warmup, Cappy felt awesome. He was full of forward and reasonably soft and perfect in straightness, both on the circle and the straightaway. But there was something very wrong.

Squeak. squeaak. Squelch.

What the hell? Why is my saddle squeaking? It's never down that before?? Is it my good boots causing that?

I rode over to Nancy, my face beet red and my legs off the horse.

"Was all that noise you?"

Shame-filled nod. "What am I going to do?"

Well, they don't mention noisy tack anywhere on the dressage test. After the bit check, we headed up to the main dressage ring.

Cap was on, chuffed up with that "everyone's looking at me" feeling that I love. He was pretty accurate, very smooth, and there were only a few moments trepidation at times that he might continue on out over the tiny dressage fence.

We did our final approach up center line, brakes a little catch as catch can...

I breathed a sigh of relief. We had survived, and not gone out of the ring (my worst fear. 'Cause cross country is where it's at, and you don't get to do that if you get eliminated in dressage), and it felt pretty good.

The judge's scores reflected my feeling of the test. Lots of good numbers; in fact, we were in second place! Not bad in our first real outing.

 And at the bottom, under remarks: What was all that squeaking?!!!