oh my...

Sproing? Sproing! Sproing! Down the trail. Is the the Easter bunny? No, it's Major, having a fit.

What a ride. Wanted just a quick jaunt. Well, quick it was. SO came with me on a quiet Easter Sunday. There were very few people about, most off celebrating, and we headed into the forest, wanting to do a nice loop of the rock trail. He'd never been on it, and Major and I can always use the practice that tough trail gives us. The forest was fine, I got a lovely canter on the trotting trail, even a tiny jump over part of the log that has been cut out (and not as stupid as some of his other "jumping" attempts).

Then we got on the rock trail, And SO was in front. While Major may know not to barge into him, Major still thinks he is a very slow horse that needs to be going faster, and was jigging and annoying. But in front was rushing and silly. No winning, so just kept swapping places, and trying to avoid the reaching branches of new poison oak. The trail is horribly overgrown for a rider. The American River 50 run was over the same trail on Saturday, but they're much shorter than a rider!

Major and I dodged and trotted down the trail, often stopping to wait (patiently?), and sometimes holding back so Major could deal with his herd mate (my SO) running away. It actually was mostly fine, just quick. Until we got to the neighborhood.

A new giant dog (Great Pyrenees maybe? lots of fur) rushed the fence with a yappy thing close behind. His owners calling fruitlessly to stop it, he barked a huge bark and Major skittered sideways onto the asphalt. He is fine with dogs usually, but I think they came from out of nowhere and sounded aggressive, and with already being keyed up ready to go home, it was just the final straw.

His brain must have fallen out on the road, because I never did get it entirely back. Up the road to the house where barking Riley the golden retriever is, but no Riley. Good. But the mastiff across the street started up, and his property is above the trail, so the scary thing is above Major's head. Jigging on asphalt is not my favorite, and when he wouldn't listen he got a swat on the shoulder. Which he objected to and kicked out. OK, damn, now we're circling on the road, so we pranced into the dirt and proceeded to circle and back and listen. And then I got off, because both of us were at our wit's end. And did some groundwork, walked along a bit, and mounted back up. Finally got a big flat-footed walk home.

I actually should have gone out and done 10 miles. This six mile trip didn't include enough focusing, and he certainly wasn't tired. I will say his whoa is much better, even trotting along I can get it within a couple strides. No cowhorse, but better. The rating within the trot is what we need to work on.

It was 70 degrees back at the barn, and stopped for a grass snack. When Major decided to roll with my saddle on! Picture a horse wanting to roll, actually down and trying to flop over, and a rider frantically pulling on the reins. ARRGGH! Got him up, took off the saddle, SO took it and put it in the barn. And then Major wouldn't roll in the grass or in the sand arena. So I hosed him off, and he was perfectly happy a few minutes later to roll in his pasture.

Sigh...Well, that was a ride I could have skipped. Let's hope the rest of the week goes a bit better...