Thank goodness for summer vacations. People leave the Mid-Atlantic en masse at the end of July and the beginning of August for their summer homes, or for pre-school-year vacations to cooler climes. And it’s only days after they go that temperatures here plummet to reasonable levels.

So: Thank you, travelers, for making the weather better in your absence!

Whether it was the cooler temps, the enthusiasm of being in a new venue, or just simply his continuing fitness building, Tres put on a very good show. There’s certainly stuff that could be better, and it will be, but he made an honest effort, made no mistakes and showed off his highlights—the trotwork, particularly the lateral work, and very rideable pirouettes. He got a 61 percent, which I thought was very fair, and a good placing in a big class.

I showed him in the snaffle on Sunday, something our new USEF rules permit at the FEI levels, and it was a good call. He’s more adjustable in the double, but his self-carriage is still better in the snaffle, and as he was more fatigued on Sunday, having less tack in-hand was helpful. Another mistake-free test, though he definitely felt pooped in his back by the last half of the canter tour. He is SUCH a delightful creature, so honest and charming. Another 61 percent—which makes me really excited for where his scores will go when he improves in his conditioning. What a pleasure to ride and show! Whoever gets this horse will be lucky, indeed.

Working student Liz had a good weekend with her hot Thoroughbred mare, with a 66 percent at first level, and a second level debut that, while tense, had some real highlights. I’m so proud of this pair—I’m sending them back home a very different combination than they arrived! Liz’s seat is completely different after a month sans-stirrups, and her horse has a completely different appreciation for throughness. I’m sad to see Liz go! But college calls.

My mom brought her Indy as a non-compete, not because of Indy; he’s Mr. Professional, on and off the farm. But my mom’s a Nervous Nelly, and so a few days of half-pressure (being away from home, but still out of the spotlight) were really good for her. Indy was, of course, perfect, and Mom got more relaxed and more confident as the weekend went on. They’ll go to their first “real” show at the end of August.

It was a weekend of good news, for everyone but Ella. Ella seemed OK on Friday, just blah, like she’s been at home. She warmed up well for her Saturday ride, and as she went around the ring, she got a little tight about some speakers ringside that were covered in plastic bags. But not naughty, no leaping and plunging, just tight. I rode her past them a few times, and everything seemed fine, so down centerline we went.

She got more and more behind me. I tried to sit up and wait, but nothing came. I made a few movements, and she still didn’t show up. And as I made the transition for passage, she just dropped out from underneath me. Nothing in the tank, nothing in the back. She spat the bit out and said, “No thanks, I’m done.”

I tried to fix it, even stopped to try and adjust the bridle, but she just didn’t rally. So I did something I’ve never done in 15 years of showing: I excused myself.

If I’m really honest with myself, she hasn’t felt good for at least a week or two. I know it’s not physical: I brought her to the vet for her one-month pre-Gladstone checkup, and she got a squeaky-clean bill of health. I think she’s tired, mentally.

And I don’t know what comes next.

I know what I’m going to do next. I’m going to give her some time off—Sunday she just went for a hand walk at the show, and today, Monday, she’ll just hang out in her paddock. Then, I’m going to hack her in a snaffle for three days. No trot or canter. No purpose. Just a long, loose, floppy walk. I’m going to give her love and carrots and whatever she wants. And then, I guess, I’ll make up the rest of the plan as I go.

Here’s what I do know. This horse is SO special and SO young. I know lots of horses who’ve developed The Eigth Grand Prix Blues: They do their first five to seven I2s or Grand Prixs, or whatever, on adrenaline and raw, young energy. And then they realize how hard it is and start losing the joie de vivre. And you can try and blast through it, or you can back down, take time, and put the fun back in it.

I will not do anything with this wonderful horse that she doesn’t want to do. I don’t want to create problems, and I don’t want to have to overcome issues. I want to show off my beautiful and gifted horse when she’s at her best.

It’s too early to make any decisions. Until then, I’m watching Ella eat grass in her paddock, in her fly sheet and neck cover and mask and boots and bell boots and fuzzy halter, one part being a horse and enjoying nature, one part bubble wrap. I’m going for runs to clear my head. And I’m taking it one day at a time, with my eye on the Big Prize: a successful Grand Prix horse at 10, 11, 12, 15 and 20. The short run is just that: short.

LaurenSprieser.com
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