Greetings from Long Valley, N.J., where Ella, Tres and I have come for our monthly dose of Michael. Putting Tres on the van was a relatively last-minute decision, one marking the end of a three-week period of mental twistiness.
As I wrote about a few weeks ago, Tres made light work of the PSG and I1 at his last show. I’d been really focusing on that work and not on the Grand Prix stuff so that Tres wouldn’t pull a Midge and punctuate his Small Tour stuff with one-tempis (which Midge finds hilarious). So when I came home from the show, I decided to take advantage of the chunk of time before our next outing to really make a push for the Big Tour work.
And it was like a switch had flipped in Tres’ head.
He came out swinging. Piaffe, passage, one tempis, zigzags. Keen, uphill, swift to my aids. And it wasn’t just that day. The next day, same deal. And the next. And the next.
I swear to God, I think Tres got jealous.
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I just ooze with pride over Ella and Midge because they’re mine, and I made them, and now they’re great. Tres has never been a priority for me—professionally, yes, but personally, no. And I think he went to the show and said “Darnit, I want to be a Grand Prix horse, too.”
So on a lark last week, I rode through everything in the Grand Prix. Not in order. Walk breaks in between stuff. But he did absolutely every movement in a recognizable way. And just for kicks, I rode through the whole I2 test, start to finish. No muss, no fuss.
Is it possible? No. That’s crazy. A month ago I would have told you that I wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be able to put it together, that I wasn’t sure if he had the heart. How could three weeks change all that? I had to bring him to Michael’s to be sure.
I explained the situation. “Mike,” I said, “I think I’m crazy. Tell me that I’m nuts to try and take this thing out Grand Prix at the end of June.”
“Show me the trot half-pass.” And I did. “Now the piaffe and passage.” And I did. “Walk. Passage. Canter. Zigzag. Pirouettes. Changes.” Check, check, check. We finished with 15 straight, bouncy ones into a trot, extended trot, passage.
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“Enter the Grand Prix, girl,” he said.
!!!
I wrote an email to Carolyn, the show secretary for the Ride For Life, where I’d entered Tres in the PSG and I1 again. I asked if it was too late to switch to the I2 and Grand Prix instead (entries close on Wednesday). I bit my lip, took a deep breath and hit send.
I’m here one more day. Tomorrow morning I’m going to ride through the whole Grand Prix test, start to finish, on both horses. It’ll be the first time I’ve done the whole thing on either of them—Tres has done individual parts, Ella’s done the trot/pi/pa/walk tour and the whole canter tour but not both together. It might be messy. It might even be a little ugly. But Tres’ entries are in for June, and Ella’s are sitting on my desk at home for July.
Hot potato, I’m going to have to buy another bottle of champagne.
