I'm Not Dead Yet

Wow. I think of you guys often. Still troll shy, still afraid of boring everybody. Thoughts whip through, then past, I think of posting, then realize, again, I have no stories.

So, I don't post.

Then, like this morning, I remember why I started this blog.

It was to practice my writing.

It was to vent my frustrations to an anonymous world about horse training, horse people and skewed perceptions.

I balanced these things with stories and training tips. Again, to practice writing and also to authenticate myself. I was writing from the trenches, not my comfy chair, surrounded by training videos, spouting just-learned theories from cable TV.

I was secretive. I didn't discuss being an amputee or my personal demons. I wanted to see if my theories and methodology still worked without the distraction and sympathy that dogged me in the real world.

It's hard to explain. I became a cow horse trainer because I fell in love with the sport. I couldn't be an amateur, I was already considered a pro, since I started colts and was giving basic horsemanship instruction. Plus, I just didn't have the dollah dollah bills y'all.

In order to compete, I had to ride in the open classes. Classes filled with  trainers who grew up on ranches - complete with fine horses and cattle. Classes filled with trainers who interned with the best, who rode horses bred for the job.

Call it providence, call it a curse, but my desire to learn brought me to the Big K. I was heading towards forty, was just back into training after a ten-year hiatus-- thanks to cancer-- and then there was the one-armed thing. Oh yeah, let's not forget, I was riding Sonita.

I think he recognized my obsession. He didn't make it easy, he gave me no concessions, he expected me to keep up. He never told me to sell my horse or hinted I couldn't get it done.

Most of you know the rest, if not it's easy enough to catch up, it's all in the stories.

This is the foundation of the Mugwump Chronicles.

These days, I'm home. It isn't going to change much. I ride when I can and hope to show again. After all, that fat yellow thing hanging out in the corral is a finished bridle horse. I built her, I'm proud of her, and I am dying to show her off.

I'm training my dog. It's keeping me sharp, it's something I can do, financially, time-wise and physically. I'm approaching this new experience the way I do everything. I watch, I think, I listen, I research, you know. My dog stories are not coming from expertise though...I'm yet again the green handler diving into a professional arena saying, "I want to learn what you do."

I don't know where the blog is going. I'm hit and miss, I know, part of it is lack of direction, part is sadness at losing my standing as a working horse trainer. I really miss it.

BUT

It also occurred to me...

I still need to practice my writing.

I still need to vent.

I still know lots of practical stuff.

The stories are still there, and I'm guessing their relevance and the warm fuzzies will come back. I also have several half finished posts sitting in my files.

This started out today as a post on reactivity in dogs and horses, but wandered off here.

I'll get back to it.

Talk to you soon.