It has been two weeks since I've had the sutures removed following my arthroscopic surgery on my knee. Today I went back to my surgeon's office for my follow-up exam and was given clearance to return (slowly) back to my normal activities which include running, dancing, cycling, and (obviously) riding horses. Finally at liberty to ride again! I can't describe my excitement.
The Weatherman has been calling for severe storms for days and I was worried the weather would not hold out long enough for a trip to the barn. I watched through the windows at the clouds rolling by as I read my George H. Morris book. My excitement grew with the turn of each page; I strongly recommend this book to every aspiring equestrian. I was poring over a chapter in which he described finding an "independent seat" while riding. I actually had only heard the phrase "independent seat" within the last few months but I well understood the concept. This was about "riding around the horse" rather than on top, of moving and suppling the lower back to prevent the bounce. I knew how to do this-- especially on a horse like Thunder whose smooth trot could be "sat all day." I could even do it on the springier-trotting Thoroughbred I used to ride. The more I read, however, the more I could see that I was clearly having a problem engaging my "independent seat" (or "Magic Stickum" as I used to call it before I knew the term) when riding my Warmblood friend Tubby in lessons.
As I read I began to think; as I thought I began to create a plan for my next ride. I wanted to firmly establish an independent seat and the only proven way to do it was by practicing. I had a great plan to go out and put myself through my no-stirrup paces, cementing my leg position and finding that elusive Magic Stickum independent seat.
When the clouds thinned I took no time to grab my saddle and helmet and run out the door. Rain was falling in tiny pockets as I drove and my brow furrowed in determination to not be scared off by a little rain: surgery and time off can make it scary when looking into the face of your first ride. I didn't want to give myself any excuses. Luckily the sun was peeking out when I arrived at the barn. I grabbed my gear and headed in, deeply inhaling that scent I'd missed-- the wood shavings, the fly spray, the dust and dirt, the horses.
I peeped into Thunder's stall and his ears pricked as though to say, "What do you want? I thought you'd decided you weren't going to make me work any more." That ole boy Thunder-- he acts like he doesn't care, but I know he loves me. I put on his halter as he huffed his annoyance and resigned to his fate. I tied him and began to brush him as he played with the snap on his tie and stamped his foot. I moved around to his off-side and then I saw it.
Do you see it? It's a little pink sore spot on his back. It's small, but it definitely was tender-pink, and I afraid to make it any bigger or more sore. I don't know where it came from; possibly from another horse, possibly from an abscess that drained, possibly from rolling on something that he shouldn't have-- who knows? It doesn't matter. The part that matters is that it didn't look like it had just popped up and that it looked fairly healthy and clean. And it was located right where I'd hoped to be sitting soon.
As the realization that there could be no ride sank in, I patted him on his side and hugged his neck-- what was I going to do with him?
More time passed. No, really, what was I going to do with him? It was my first day being allowed to ride, I'd waited for the weather, I'd driven out to see him... now what?
I decided that since he didn't mind being brushed, I'd just do that for a while. It didn't take as long as I'd hoped. I looked at his feet. I reexamined his sore spot. I gave him another hug and realized his mane was a mess. Now, Thunder has always possessed a mane something like Fabio. It has always been thick and wavy, tumbling over both shoulders as his musculature has blessed him with a very even-muscled crest. Today it looked like Fabio had woven a bird's nest in there.
So this became my project for the day: thinning and detangling Thunder's mane. He was a good boy and stood mostly still for the process; he only brought up his head a few times if I got to a really sticky spot. I brushed and brushed my life-size My Little Pony doll. I thought that I'd really like to thin and clip his mane to the point that I could practice braiding-- since I probably wouldn't be riding for a while. This thought had occurred to me about a week ago as I was plotting horse-related activities that I was able to do without overtaxing my knee; it looks like that is what I'll be doing even now that I'm allowed to ride, at least until he's fully healed. In the meantime, I've already scheduled a riding lesson with my trainer, in order to rehone those skills that I've lost during my recovery.
So now there's a very slight delay in getting back into the saddle, but also a nice opportunity to spend some quality time with my horse buddy and work on some other skills. I can still ride but I'll have to wait a little while until lesson time and as Thunder's little sore heals up. I feel a little disappointed that I didn't get to ride today, but mostly I'm happy to have found something else to work on to help me establish a better relationship with one of my equine partners.
