My first Opening Meet has been about a year in the making, and I can hardly believe I’m here. By here, I mean standing on top of a log, cursing my horse, who, instead of standing quietly for me to remount, has decided to leap over the log while I try to stay calm and not burst into tears.
It’s been a trying weekend so far.
My borrowed horse, Seven Up, is completely sick of me after I spent a total of six hours Friday night and Saturday morning grooming the living bejezus out of him. Up to this point, I never had to braid for any kind of equestrian event, so on Friday night I arrive at the barn around 6:30, brush and bathe him, and separate his mane into little sections.