my horse hates me too.
And here, I’d thought we were best friends.
I was away for a few days last week (all right, I was away riding all sorts of pretty warmbloods, but did she sense the betrayal, or what?) Ever since I got back, Tess has had a severe case of the screaming winter willies.
Today, I could barely get a saddle on her: wind blowing, branches slapping against the roof of the barn, and Tess deciding that every sound contained a cougar about to pounce. We broke a cross-tie she wasn’t even tied to. Finally I had to put a chain over her nose just to get her tacked her up. If I’d had a pair of hobbles, I’d have slapped those on, too.
On into the thankfully empty indoor. More wind noises. Okay, I figured, don’t try to work. Just trot. For twenty minutes straight, we made like a Standardbred in the Hamiltonian. Around and around and around, at the speed of light. Who knew that head-high, short, choppy strides could cover ground that quickly? 
It took half an hour to reach the point where she was slightly aware that there was a rider on her back who might want to have some input. Grrr. I hate that kind of ride. And she knows better. At least, I like to think she does.
Back in the barn, she started spooking again as I was untacking. Since bridle and saddle were already off, this time I just let her go. Stood in the barn door and waved good-bye (our 40 acres is fenced.
) Gathered her up half an hour later and threw her back in the pasture. Not my finest hour.
Bumpkin, great news about Elliott’s show. Congratulations on doing so well! 