Funny how this always seems to happen.

Intermediate jumpers group lesson, day 1:
Berky and I end up in "time out" on the rail. For twenty minutes. Practicing flexion.... at the walk.

How did this come about? Oh, the wonders of a.) no brakes b.) no calf strength and c.) no concentration. My tall boots died on me, and I never realized just how un-grippy my lower leg is until I was cantering around the ring on the wrong lead with a frantic instructor yelling, "Turn him into the fence!"

Argh. Losing headway is so much fun. Berky got over-excited when we were cantering, and he really bored into the bit and ran. The other riders had to come off the rail while I tried to slow him down. It was not fun. The bulk of our lesson consisted of the other girls playing "Add a Fence" and me attempting to round him up onto the bit. He has a huge knot on his neck that appeared over night, evidently, and no topline muscle at all, but Allanah (trainer) is mad about being on the vertical, so.....yeah.

Eventually, he got the idea and would round up without much asking. That was pretty nice. By that time, however, Allanah wanted to hop on him. Poor Berky. He was a bit of a snot and she nearly backed him into the ground. He did eventually give in to her, but the process was not pretty.

The result?
Allanah: So he's yours now?
Me: Uh, yeah.
Allanah: Oh... well, he's a handful..
Me: *thinks* Excellent. Funny how I always pick the spazzy ones.
Allanah: What are you riding him in?
Me: A single-jointed smooth mouthpieced eggbutt.
Allanah: Not anymore you aren't. (Goes to car to get scary corkscrew snaffle of doom)
Do you have a martingale?
Me: Yeah. A running one....and a breastplate that doesn't fit.
Allanah. Hmm. Well, I think we'll be doing private lessons from now on, ok?
Me:*thinks* Aw, jeez.

Tara: *jumps in* Well, if you need help, I'll be out tomorrow.
Me: Uh, yeah, thanks. I may.

So I have my fingers crossed that he won't be a total maniac once he puts on more weight. If so, well, we're going to work through it, I guess. Argh. I'm stressing out now. By the way, the dentist was out. Found three hooks, an impacted tooth, and a broken tooth. He gets antibiotics from now on.

Is this justified? It really sucks having so little confidence, honestly. I'm not going to sell him unless I have to. Call it sentimentality, but I am so sick of shopping. He's spound, he's talented, and if he's crazy, we're going to work through it, dammit. *Tries to bolster own self-confidence*

Anyways, he walked down the runway to greet me today and stuck his head in the halter by himself. At least I'm doing something right, (I hope.)