Cobmalian

The unspoiled world of senior cobs, David and Master Dibble

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Location: United Kingdom

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Tepid drizzle


The monsoon season continued into August with yet another rainy start to the day. At least it's not cold. Out to graze without rugs in the tepid drizzle. Sounds like a blog about ponies, accessories and general fluffy pinkness, as in : "Welcome to Fiona's Tepid Drizzle." Cobs prefer their blogs with solid single-word titles. I wanted "Minty!" with the exclamation mark, but suppose "Cobmalian" is acceptable.

If I couldn't have "Minty!", my second choice for a suitably rewarding blog title was "Apple" - without an exclamation mark. This was because I really like apples. I decided against it since I didn't wish to become involved in international trade mark or copyright litigation.

Anyway, enough of how cobs tend to be risk-averse as regards use of intellectual property. We came in at four. By then it was dry and sunny and Dad took me in the school.

A 60 by 40 arena was laid out and we practiced BD Introductory A three or four times. On the positive side, Dad remembered the test and my walk and trot was accurate and hit the right markers etc. Today, however, I didn't soften or round much in the run-through and we need to work on that if we are going to enter it at the Netherwood Dressage in September - even as the world's oldest novice combination.

At one point, when my near hind "gave" a couple of times, Dad wondered if I was uneven or even lame. Pauline and Louise checked me in walk and trot. Apart from what Dad considers my mannerisms and tics from past injuries, I seemed alright although a little puffed-out and breathing heavily.

Dad reminded himself to stand me longer before schooling when I have been out grazing after rain. He will check me out carefully again tomorrow.

We carried on schooling quietly around the jumps and I softened quite well and did some good work, including some sitting trot and rein-back. Dad thought it best not to canter today and we went in for a long hose down, mints and tea after forty-five minutes.

Given how central a part these delicious extra-strong sweeties play in my motivation, perhaps you can now see why my preferred title for this blog would have been best, but Dad had to have his way. Fortunately, as Kipling suggests, cobs treat those two imposters just the same and are phosophical about small defeats.

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