The last time I went to a horse show, I looked like this:

Today was the first obstacle trail show of 2025. C. was judging, but this time instead of helping her, M. and I were competitors. She told us to get to the barn at 6:45am, so I rolled up at 7:03 which is right on time for horse people. Griffy and Levi had baths the day before, were conditioned and sheened, and ready to go.

We got to the show around 8:30. The start time was pushed back to 10:30, with a projected end time of 1pm. Ok, no big deal – that’s two hours of schooling time when we can check out the obstacles.

It wasn’t very crowded when we got there, which was nice because Griffy was amped up right off the trailer. I was trying to describe it to another friend and the word she hit on was “overstimulated” which I think fits exactly – he’s like “OMG THERE ARE HORSES OVER THERE DOES THE GRASS TASTE DIFFERENT HERE WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE WHAT’S THAT FENCE FOR” while power walking in a hundred different directions and dragging me along behind. C. suggested taking him for a walk, and I tried to let him pick where we went, because usually the best way to calm him down is to let him investigate what he wants to investigate. He was definitely overwhelmed, but M. and Levi caught up to us and that helped him settle. We walked around the obstacle course a bit – more around the perimeter than through the actual obstacles, I didn’t think he was ready for that yet.

He had calmed down quite a bit by the time we got back to the trailer, so we set the horses up with hay bags and went to get check-in & registration done. Getting back I groomed him, cleaned his feet, and puttered around while he munched on his snack. A horse got loose, and he did a bit of a dance with some calling out, but mostly it was chill.

At about 9:30 we decided to go school the obstacles. By this point there were more people there….a lot more people.

So yeah, it was a bit chaotic, and Griffy went from kinda relaxed to “OMG!!!” all over again.

I took him a little distance away and tried to calm him down – breathing, encouraging him to graze, but we were hampered by all the people, and the fact that the obstacle course is right next to the jumping course and I wasn’t sure if the course was active. Eventually I got him to settle a bit, and we grazed while we watched everyone else warm up.

Since my fall in December, I admit it’s been a little…different with Griffy. I don’t know quite how to explain it, except that I joked with M. that I think we need marriage counseling. But it feels like maybe a bit of our trust and confidence in each other is gone. I had hoped doing this show would bring it back, but as I stood there watching M. lead Levi around the course, I started to get a little resentful. “Look at how calm Levi is doing all the obstacles,” I thought. “I can barely get Griffy to stand still. And some of these people are RIDING. I wish I had a horse that I could ride through this.” I turned to look at him and a thought popped into my head – “I wonder if he wishes he had a different human sometimes.” That really made me laugh. Here we are, making each other miserable, me thinking some people get to ride their horses and him thinking some humans don’t make their horses to go to stupid shows to do bullshit obstacles.

“Welly buddy,” I said with a laugh, “I guess we’re stuck with each other.” He let out a big snort of agreement.

Fast forward to start time, we got there right at 10:30….and it was a zoo. Horses, handlers, and riders all clustered around the entrance.

There was no way I could get Griffy near that, and he was now in complete freak out mode. I tried to get him to settle, but it was not happening – he was constantly calling out to other horses, trying to drag me around, dancing, and it felt like we were fighting a losing battle where no one was happy. Then it occurred to me, if he didn’t want to stand there, then let’s not actually stand there. You can see in the picture above the dressage warm-up arena was right there, and when it was empty, I decided we’d go for a walk in the arena.

We did a couple of laps, then went back out. He was calm for a bit, then started calling and dancing, so back in we went. I was not treating this walk as a punishment – lots of exhales and good boys. It was simply something to do to take his mind off the chaos around us. I tried to make it interesting – circle at B, halt at C, across the diagonal at K. When someone needed the arena, we’d exit and just walk around it. After a few laps, we’d go out and graze for a bit. It helped a LOT. I’m not going to say he was totally calm, but he stopped charging forward and dragging me along and just walked normally beside me, and there was much less calling out to the other horses. At one point he neighed loudly and then just started walking on his own, like “Yeah yeah I know let’s go.”

I was pleased by how this was working, and feeling pretty positive overall….at first. As I said, we got there at 10:30. It seemed like the crowd at the entrance never diminished. It was still pretty chaotic – I watched one horse get kicked because the person holding it was paying more attention to their dog (why on EARTH would you bring a dog to a horse show!??!?!?) and the horse accidentally got too close to another. There was no way I was bringing Griffy there. At previous shows, C. would call out numbers, so I was waiting for our turn, but this time M. and I weren’t there to help her organize everything because we were competitors. So basically it was first come first serve, except no one told us that.

So we waited, and walked, and waited, and walked…and waited….and walked.

After two hours I was at my limit. My hip is still injured from my fall in December and it was starting to really hurt. It was hot (81 degrees in February, because Texas says fuck you) and I was increasingly frustrated that we were still waiting. Griffy was starting to get hot, tired, and irritated too. He tried, once again, to drag me across the road and I snapped. I jerked the lead rope and yelled “STOP IT.” He looked at me with his eyes wide and white.

Shit.

I knew at that moment we had to leave, but I tried to tell myself I could do it. I breathed out and apologized to him.

M. came over and it was just the wrong moment. “You haven’t gone yet??” she asked. “No, we’re still waiting,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the frustration out of my voice. She turned to the line where someone was waiting. “CAN SHE GO BEFORE YOU BECAUSE IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS” she yelled to them. “We don’t need to be a fucking charity case!” I snapped at her.

Yeah, we need to go.

We got back to the trailer, I tied him up with his hay net and then finally sat down to let my angry hip relax. I breathed. Griffy seemed so happy to be away from the chaos.

After a few minutes M. came over and I apologized for being an asshole.

I’m giving this account becauseI want to be honest about my own failures. I should not have let my frustration boil over to my horse and my friend. I should not have stayed up there so long – we could have gone back to the trailer, and just waited until closer to the end. I’d like to tell you I have an unending well of patience, but I don’t. I was hot, in pain, and frustrated. As I set there, I reflected on the fact that earlier I was frustrated with what I saw as his shortcomings, but he was unendingly tolerant of mine.

I’m really lucky to have him.

M. came over and helped me get water for the horses and myself (if you’re thinking I don’t deserve her, you are absolutely right. I apologized a lot more.). She told me that we would do a good job on the course and I shook my head. “I cannot make this a good experience for us,” I told her. “It’s not fair to him to put him in that situation.”

I don’t know how long we rested, but I was feeling a lot better. Griffy was too. Then I got a text from C. She said there were only two horses left and I could come up and try now that everything was calm.

I started to say no, but I hesitated. Like every horsewoman, I’m stubborn. I was feeling better and so was Griffy. I typed “Okay” and then “No” at least 5 times before I finally said “I will see if he’s willing.”

“No rush,” she said.

I clipped the lead rope back on and removed the trailer tie. “What do you think, buddy?” I asked. He walked off with me willingly.

There was no one else there when we got to the entrance. Griffy was calm.. He did every single obstacle without a moment’s hesitation. I was enthusiastic with praise and I felt like it couldn’t have gone better.

We got back to the trailer and I told him I was proud of him. I told him he was the best horse, and I was sorry for doubting him and my own shortcomings. He turned and rested his head against my arm.

When we got home, he had a well-deserved roll. Training humans is hard work.