My bipolar horse, and how cameras trick conformation analysis

On our walk today (leading Mara, not riding her), a sunny Sunday, I knew we'd encounter a lot of people. I was right, but I had no idea how difficult it would be for my horse.

The odd thing was, she was so good at first. My friend with the Appy drove by and stopped her car, turned on the hazards, and we talked for a good 10 minutes. Mara stood like a statue the entire time, never offering to move a hoof. People walked by us, directly behind her on the narrow sidewalk, with dogs and kids. I was able to stroke Mara's forelock, like a person would stroke a normal horse.

As we talked, the old lady with the walker made her way to us and I said Hello Mrs. Harkemann!, momentarily interrupting my friend's conversation. Mrs. Harkemann is not her real name, but I call her this behind her back, cuz it's a blend of her name and Torchwood's Harkness. Mrs. Harkemann rolled her walker right behind Mara, and it was no problem. Mara was in "good Mara" mode.

My friend told me how ridiculously rude it was for someone to tell me I wasn't allowed to use a public trail, while being out in public with their horse. I told her I was glad she agreed with me. She said, "If it had been me, I would have ridden right by her, ignoring her."

I asked her if she'd asked yet if I might ride at her place where she boards, and she said she will ask. I would love to be able to ride there, even once weekly would make me so happy.

Finally we said goodbye and I started jogging with Mara toward home. I love running with her, she always looks so happy and SOUND trotting beside me on pavement (after the last few months of her being mysteriously, intermittently unsound). If I ever get her to an endurance ride, she's gonna be great at trot outs.

Then we caught up with Mrs. Harkemann and she was taking a break, sitting on her walker. Mara fruck out a bit - "That's just not normal!!!" and started to pull back, refusing to approach. I started talking to Mrs. H, asking her where she's been lately (hospital) and we had a lovely time talking. Except Mara did not have a lovely time at all.

Something had flipped in her brain and she was suddenly terrified. There was a family coming toward us on the sidewalk - mom, dad, two little girls on city rollers, and a little dog on a leash. Mara flipped.

I moved Mara into the street so she wouldn't put the old lady back into the hospital. Mara acted as if people walking down a sidewalk was the scariest thing she'd seen in years. Closer and closer they came, and I asked Mrs. H if she could see Mara's heart beating out of her chest, thumping a good inch every beat. Mrs. H had asked why I wasn't riding, and I said, "After almost 2 years, she's still terrified of .....people walking? I have no idea what her problem is."

Finally this little blond blue eyed girl pulled her city roller up to us and stopped. She looked at Mara in awe who was staring in "awe" at the rest of her family still approaching. The little girl said, "What's your horse's name?"

I thought briefly, how odd, being asked that, when my horse is being a freak. I said, "Mara" in my best German accent (cuz that's a really hard one for me to pronounce). Then I pointed to her city roller and said, "She's afraid of...what is that?" "City roller." "She's afraid of city rollers."

At that point her family had arrived, and Mara had let loose all the poop in her system, right in the street (thankfully I had her in the street). The little girl shouted to her family, "Mom, Dad, this horse is afraid of city rollers!" Her dad noted the large amount of poop and said, "I can see that."

I thought how interesting that the girl was at an age where she couldn't identify fear in a horse. No, it's not a good moment to pet my little pony, she's in "bad Mara" mode.

Yet it's not bad. How can you call a horse "bad" who is shaking in fear? Whatever the reason, she was terrified.

After the family moved on, we talked some more and more couples approached and passed, and each one was a challenge for Mara to hold it together. She did hold it together, but with visible heart rate.

*sigh*

We said goodbye and moved on where we passed Herr S's place, where someone was working that Berber horse in the arena ----- um...using MY THINGS. I knew that would happen. I'm kicked out of the barn, perhaps temporarily, perhaps not, and my things are still there (in hopes I'll return). They had pulled out my rain barrels with my last name printed in all caps on them, and were using them.

It was an odd feeling to see that. And to see their Berber horse look up at Mara, distracted, and to see them and wonder if they knew, those are my things.  I don't mind them using them, but I really, really want an arena.

So, is Mara bipolar? Hrm.


Since I have no recent images, and since the last snow drifts have not yet melted, but the forecast is MORE SNOW tomorrow, here's something from Summer:


The main problem with photographing in a hay field --- they take bites.



This is a good example of camera trickery - my horse is not photographed exactly from the side, making her hip look shorter, and her neck looks extremely long. In reality, she is built downhill. And somehow, her face looks tiny. I don't understand how cameras make their magic, but I don't want anyone to think think this is an honest representation. Her leg angles look OK, but they're not the toothpicks depicted here. Mara has a long back for her 14HH size, but this photo does not illustrate that. Then again, I'd happily use this photo in her sale ad if she doesn't start relaxing by December.