Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Crazy Lady is Crazy

So, I was trying to decide between two grey geldings--one a grade QH and the other a registered Arabian.  One of my trusted horsie advisors came out and rode the QH, and while the fat and cresty thing is concerning (has he foundered or had other health issues?), she also detected a bit of lameness, so I’m gonna pass on him.  Now I can focus solely on the Arab.  Yay!

The same horsie friend trailered her horse out to where the Arab is (in cold weather, spitting snow) to see me riding him on the trail for the first time.  He did great.  The owner also seemed to be coming around to a more reasonable stance on things—I would buy the horse BEFORE the training she insisted upon, instead of after, which is what she originally made it sound like, and made me nervous that she could change her mind at the end of it.  So all systems were go.

The seller had asked me earlier in the week to set up a vet check appointment for after the trail ride but as soon as possible after so we could seal the deal.  That appointment was already set up for Saturday afternoon, so I confirmed with the vet that we were still on.  The seller also wanted to see the place I’d be boarding, and approve it, so I set up an appointment with the barn manager for Saturday morning.

Friday morning, I received an e-mail from the seller that Saturday no longer works for her, and can I move the vet appointment to Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon?  SHE was the one who wanted it so soon in the first place, but I didn’t complain about doing it Saturday because hey, the sooner the better for me, plus it was on a weekend so I didn’t have to miss work.   But on a weekday, a vet appointment 30 minutes away means missing half a day of work once all is said and done.  But I have plenty of PTO, and I wanted the horse, so I started re-arranging things.  Sunday worked for the barn tour, for both the seller and the barn manager, so that was settled, but it took some doing to find a vet that didn’t charge twice as much as the one I was originally going to use AND could do it on Tuesday or Wednesday.  Whew.  All settled again.

Saturday morning, I decided to drive around to local tack stores to see if I could try out a certain model of saddle a friend recommended, or any saddle at all, really, to start getting an idea of what I liked.  Didn’t really find much, but it was fun to browse the horse stuff.  (I’d already purchased most of the stuff I would need that can be bought without a horse when the FIRST vet check failed, so I’m good on things like brushes and riding gear for ME, but will still need halter, bridle, and saddle, once I have a horse to fit them to.  And I know, halters are relatively standard, but I don’t want to pick a color until I have a horse.  Red on a chestnut?  Black on a black horse?  No.  I don’t care what I wear, but I don’t want my horse to look silly!)

I arrived home to an e-mail from the seller.  She appears to think that my eventual endurance goals mean that I would hop on the horse, gallop him for 50 miles up steep rock inclines, and break him down, even though I clearly told her that I myself am not in shape for even a 10-mile ride at this point, and hope to work my way up to a 25 by the end of the season.  She claims to have sources (but wouldn’t name them or give details) that state that my goal of a 25-mile ride by the end of the season is going to harm the horse.  Odd, because both AERC and anyone I’ve spoken to about it (friend or stranger) seems to think that nearly any horse that’s fit to ride can do a 25.  Win?  No.  But finish.  Is it the best idea to do one tomorrow with a horse that’s been sitting in the pasture?  Again, no.  But that isn’t what I said I wanted to do, anyway.

Whatever.  So.  Back to square one.  What’s the definition of insanity, again?

No comments:

Post a Comment