Fender’s birthday is May 31, which makes him not yet 5½. He is practically perfect in his ground manners, and the only “bad” thing he does is try to cuddle at inappropriate times, like while I’m putting his bridle on, or while one of the girls is cleaning his stall. He marches on the trailer. He stands on the crossties. You can shampoo and hose his head without getting soaked yourself. He stands at the mounting block, and you can pull his mane and clip him without drugs. He’s a great guy on the ground.

He’s also a great guy under saddle. He walks, trots and canters on the bit with relative ease. He’s starting to take a Real, No Foolin’ Half-Halt, more at canter than at trot, but he’s got the idea of them both. He makes beautiful flying changes, and a few times I’ve even made three changes on a diagonal. He has walk pirouettes. He makes an OK medium trot and a stellar medium and extended canter. He can make shoulder-in, haunches-in and half-pass at both trot and canter with relative ease. He hacks quietly, goes over cavaletti, and he works up and down hills.

So… now what?

I hate the “now what” place. There are things I want him to do better. I want him to really embrace the half-halt. I want him to swing through his back more at the collected walk. I want him to feel REALLY in front of my leg, instead of only sorta there. I want to address that part of his back that I feel like I’m not getting. But dangit, I can put the neck up and down, left and right, short and long; I can make him bigger and smaller, faster and slower, lighter and stronger; and for the life of me I can’t seem to get him out of this place, this now-what place.

Is it because I’m missing something in his training, because there’s something I’m not doing or could be doing better? All certainly possibilities. Fender’s been the poor stepchild this whole year, taking the educational backseat to Ella, Midge and Tres. I know I’ve lamented here several times how I can’t seem to get around to taking a lesson on him, and it’s true. There’s only so much time, and Fender’s been low priority, both because the Grand Prix horses are harder for me and because Fender’s capable of so MUCH for his age.

And I do think he’s a con artist, like Ella. Both Ella and Fender have three beautiful, correct gaits; use their bodies well; and have an attractive way about them when they go. They both smile and flop their ears and look the picture of correctness and grace. In reality, they’re both so darn athletic that they can look like they’re batting a thousand when they’re really operating at about 75 percent. Midge isn’t like that. Midge is a terrible liar who can’t fool anyone. When he feels like crap, he looks like crap, too.

At the same time, I catch myself thinking all the time about whether or not Fender is where other 6-year-olds should be. Then I have to remind myself that he’s 5. I scanned through the FEI 6-Year-Old tests a few weeks ago and realized that two months shy of his 5.5th “birthday” he can complete the whole test, not spectacularly, but he can do it. So where’s the fire?

A student brought her 4-year-old gelding over for a lesson yesterday, and she was mentioning how frustrated she felt at not getting to work him more. Her life’s been busy—I haven’t seen her in months—and she’s just had too much going on to get him worked more than once or twice a week.

He was fabulous. Far more uphill and organized than I’d seen him, better able to hold himself up and on the bit. He looked like he hadn’t missed a day of work. She was pleasantly surprised, but I realized I wasn’t. This is kind of how warmbloods work—no matter how hard (or not) you work, they’re only ready when they’re ready, and not one minute before. Sure, you can’t throw them in a field for two years and pull them out ready for Prix St. Georges, but the basic strength is more a matter of time than exercises.

At least, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it, until I can get a lesson!