Saddle fitting day in which I'm told how badly I'm doing by Mag

Eva is Gabi's best friend. She was a veterinarian until recently and she and her husband own a saddle shop called Way out West, which romanticizes the cowboy lifestyle. Their big van pulled up and it has cowboys riding the range painted larger than life. Eva's always been pretty nice to me, well, saying hi and smiling which means a lot to me. Her husband gave me a big smile when I brought my horse into the arena.

I had been looking forward to this all week - Mag's first clinic!

Eva gave a little speech to begin, describing the technology - a computerized saddle pad that senses pressure points as we ride and transmits it to a laptop where a visual display shows what it sensed. Pretty cool huh?

Her speech began so, "Much of the technology concerning saddle fit is developed in the USA. This is because there is a lot of money involved in the high-end horse sports there. Whereas the Americans will use these products on their horses for monetary gain, here in Germany we use these products for the welfare of the horse."

I kid you not, that is what she said, word for word. However, please believe me when I say I am numb to the blatant "forthrightness" that comes out of the mouths of Germans by now, like children, they say what they think without, well, thinking. So I shrugged it off.

I asked to not be first because I wanted more time to walk Mag around and warm us both up, and relax into the atmosphere. Except I couldn't relax. It wasn't cats or my horse, it was a sudden hit of performance anxiety, as I saw them hook up the first horse and the big plastic saddle pad started beeping, sending signals. I did worry that Mag wouldn't like the plastic, he's got issues with certain fabrics still. But I saw how the intern and the saddler and Eva stood in the corner discussing the computer screen, and critiquing the rider's movements. They shouted out to her, "How much do you weigh?" and she replied, "128 pounds." (in kg) Am I gonna have to shout out my weight to everyone? Are they going to stand there whispering among themselves about my performance and my horse? How awful!

I started to panic and tried to breathe. I stopped in the middle for a moment and Mag put his nose against my face and breathed into my nose. Whoa, what did he want to say? I know it was important, but how can I know. Most likely, "What is going on here that you are so upset?"

Then someone asked me to hold the PRE and as Mag tried to touch noses and I tried to keep them apart, I suddenly felt light headed and a rainbow started flashing in my vision.

NO, NOT THAT. I haven't had a migraine in years. I can't have one NOW! I kept blinking and shaking my head and went to Gabi and said, " I may have a migraine in a few minutes because I'm seeing a rainbow."

She had no idea what I was talking about but Eva did, she said it doesn't necessarily mean a migraine. Oh really? For me so far it has, but I tried to think positive.

Then it was my turn and I said to the saddler, "The last time I rode I fell off on my head and I'm still sore so I may not be able to follow all of your commands." He was fine about it and his wife said, "Be careful with this one, he's a young, sensitive Arab!" Then she asked me if Mag was purebred and I couldn't believe that's not obvious and then she wanted to know what type and I said Polish.

I got on with the electronic pad and Mag was fine with it. The saddler told me to walk him around the ganze bahn. I took some very deep breaths and remembered the techniques from Centered Riding. I felt good and Mag was walking along at a great pace, without needing encouragement. I actually had to say easy a few times and then I talked to him a little, "It's all good, we can do this."

I was told to do a volte and did it wrong - I did a 20m circle and a volte is an 8. Ok now I know! Then trot around the ganze bahn and I sat the trot a bit because that is my safety zone but then I posted because Mag doesn't need someone as heavy as me sitting on his back for more than a few seconds.

Then we did everything in the opposite direction and finally we were done.

This would be the point where the saddler and his intern would discuss the results with me, but no.

Eva took me by the arm, away from the others and gave me a lecture. It was exactly like I'd been asked to stay after class due to misbehavior. Her scolding tones were so loud, I was sure everyone could hear. She never said a word about my saddle.

"This horse needs to run! Arabians need to run! You are so tense, he is unable to move out, you are blocking his movement! He needs to run an hour every day, and then you'll have a different horse in the end. He needs to be let loose to play and then you should make him work hard, at least an hour, til he's so exhausted he won't spook even if a cat jumps in front of his face."

What, what about my saddle?

Then Gabi came over to listen. Eva continued, "Does your horse have the ability to run at home with you? With a herd?" I said, "Yes, all year." Then Gabi said, "HE LIVES WITH A DONKEY!!"

I felt sick. I was sick I think. I realized later that she had all these opinions about me and my horse and she'd finally been given a chance to vent them at me, because I was trapped at her husband's clinic.

I wanted to cry. I realized it is in fact the time of month that makes crying more likely.

It was so humiliating, and in case you're wondering, I've never had a conversation with Eva, ever, so she has no idea who I am and what my experience with horses has been, except from the input of others. She kept repeating he needs to run, he needs to be exhausted every day.

Then she started telling me what a great horse he is, how he is able to stay calm when his rider is tense. And how she saw him walk calmly off the trailer when he arrived on a loose lead, and how he stood with me on a loose lead in a completely new place, and how he walked with me on a loose lead, excited, but polite, and not freaking out "like all of these other horses would have been!" (as she gestured to the other horses in the ring with us.) "Do you have any idea how GOOD this horse is? He is such a good horse, mentally, emotionally, and physically - he has no significant asymmetry in his body, he has a lovely conformation, but you need to let him run!"

Obviously if you're reading this you know that we are at this barn for a few months of intensive training and Mag is not allowed in the herd, Gabi's rule, and in fact, confined to a paddock where he can only trot a few paces before he hits a fence again. And then he's stalled at night. Which for me would be unethical to do with a horse such as Baasha, who was old enough in 2008 that we prioritized movement and I insisted he live in a pasture when he arrived, not at this barn, which would have welcomed me. Mag is young and healthy and should be able to survive a few months without freedom of movement, although I hate it every day, that he has no pasture to run in. I feel exasperation toward Gabi, "Your best friend is accusing me of unethical horsekeeping, which YOU control."

And if you're reading this you know my feelings about trying to de-spook horses by exhausting them. Right.

Then she started talking about the different types of Arabians, how the Polish are so sturdy, and others not so much, and how she had a past with Arabians. She spoke to me as if I had not a clue about the breed of horse I own.

Then, "Don't hold his reins like that, he has a very sensitive mouth! Clip the reins onto his halter!" WTH, I was just standing there with him. Does she think I am abusing his mouth? Is she going to STEAL HIM to give him a proper home? I felt terrible.

Finally, FINALLY, her husband said, "Can you stop talking for one moment so I can let this lady know what the computer said about her saddle?"

Someone took my horse, not sure who, I was in such a daze.

The saddler showed me the pressure points of my saddle and sure enough they are exactly where the stirrup leather straps run under the neoprene pads, like so many owners of these saddles complain about. Then Eva and her husband looked at my saddle, I took it apart for them, and they were very confused and surprised, these saddles are not common here. "What are those holes?" "They are different stirrup position settings."

They said my saddle is too long for Mag's back and I am not sure I agree - it does not go behind his 18th rib. It's just at the limit, I admit. Then again the saddle forum mentioned this, I recall, that these saddles seem too long for short backs. But Mag does not have a short back, he's more of a dachshund.

They say I need to take the saddle to their shop and have the back end of it turned up like a Western saddle so that it doesn't put pressure on the loins.

She said I should use a very thick Western pad and cut holes where the pressure points are. I assured her that I can use a hoof rasp to file down the neoprene bar pads on those spots, which achieves the same thing. That was hard for her to understand, because that is not a typical practice for saddles, rasping the bar itself down.

He said he'd email me the computer image of the pressure points. That was nice.

I left, giving Mag his bucket and finishing my chores, trying to conceptualize what just happened. My head hurt a little but it was no migraine, thank God.

I talked to Willy a little bit and that made me feel a lot better, he's such a great guy. I told him I'm staying home tomorrow and he told me to put Mag's beet pulp in the rider's lounge to keep it from freezing, and he'll feed it tomorrow at noon.

I pointed to all the bread on Mag's stall floor and said, "My horse doesn't eat bread rolls---that someone apparently tossed to him---he's from Poland!" Willy assured me that they also feed bread to horses in Poland. I said, "Not in America."

Where we are all about the money, not the welfare of the horse.