Friday, July 27, 2007

Nicole, Cocaine, and Existentialism: July 29, 2007

Dressage, in all its glory, can be whittled down to 2 ideas: The horse can be either straight or bent (such as when on a circle). With this in mind, the horse performs movements, either straight or bent, on either a straight line, a circle, or some variation thereof.

These Euclidean activities require the horse to possess a certain degree of flexibility that can be taught, but is easier to train if the horse is born with some inherent "bendability" (what dressage folks generally refer to as "suppleness"). Some horses are "conformationally challenged" (to be politically correct), some horses are just born to be twisted into pretzels and get their rocks off doing dressage, and some horses, like Nic, are born with a lot of flexibility, but require a little help to ease the tension to help bring out the best in them.

Nic's antics are what dressage society politely refers to as "athletic" and what the rest of the world refers to as "dang that militant beast of burden done lost her mind." After the last couple spooks, I've become somewhat concerned about the mare putting us into a position where someone could get hurt. Today's was a little too dangerous to not raise the concern flag. Sorry, I didn't get it on film, but refer to this clip for a sense:


Unlike my post of July 20, 2007, this is one of those situations where someone could get hurt, except it wouldn't be the rider's fault, and needs to be addressed. Spooks aside, no one wants to go through life filled with anxiety, and I'm guessing Nic feels the same way. Nic was on Quiessence between April and June, and took her off of it after Trainer's departure because I wondered if her more "athletic moments" were because of his training or instead due to some generalized anxiety disorder.

I think she feels better on the Quiessence, and certainly was more quiet during April, May, and June. I'm pairing it with Quietex because I already bought it, and having both won't kill her. Quietex and Quiessence are comprised of different ingredients, Valerian root (mostly) and magnesium (mostly), respectively. Using both may be overkill on the sedatives, but thrifty nonetheless.

To a mare, essence isn't a mainstay of existence; let's face it, horses don't care if they are dressage stars. Rather, a mare's view of the world can be summed up in 3 words: Mare, ergo sum. Anything else is just incidental.

Cute, and although perhaps correct in a karmic sense, this philosophy just doesn't really work in the dressage arena. The mare's sense of self-satisfaction can't rest on her existential laurels, but instead, needs to be based on the Dharma of Dressage: Strength and Relaxation. So, enter Quietex and Quiessence, stage right.

The Quietex I have acquired is reminiscent of a lovely bag of cocaine; in other words, a big unmarked bag of white powder. The irony of a calming supplement looking like a bag of coke (which has the opposite effect of a calming supplement) is overwhelming. I can see the practical jokes a mile away - for a good time, just place the bag in your buddy's car, call the cops, and let the fun unfold.

I've observed, in my overly-cogitative, punctilious sort of way, an interesting phenomena over the past couple weeks; it may have something to do with the lack of Quiessence in her system, or may just be a new quirk. Nic's right lead canter, especially, is becoming more contained. In other words, the mare is exhibiting some modicum of self-carriage. (That's not the phenomena, even if it is phenomenal). I've also observed (thank God for video) that when the canter is especially nice (rhythmic, soft, etc) is when the mare has a tendency to explode. (Refer to the above clip for an example.)

What gives? Any takers? Lula May suggested that the horse is reacting to the increase in the amount of work she has to do; to maintain that nice rhythmic canter, the horse has to expend more effort. Sounds logical to me.