Cantzing and Other Exciting News

1 hour 21 minutes ago, a big day ended.

Now, to horsemen and women of many years, whoop de freaking do. Canter isn't that exciting. For a seven year old.. Totally different story.

"And if you ride really balanced for me today..."
"I get to cantz." She whispered, as if afraid to say it any louder. As if any loud noise might change my mind.
"Canter, and yes."

Cantzing before today has been a mystical, magical thing that the "big people" do. Despite her excitement, she has her reserves.

"On the longe line?"
"Yes."

And with that satisfaction, she goes to buckling her girth.

Later, I hoist her up in the saddle, noting that she's growing. Again. You don't realize how much munchkins grow until you throw them up into a saddle every week. Granted, her legs still don't go past the saddle flaps. I notice this as I adjust her stirrups, feeling slightly queasy.

She's ready, she's ready, she's ready. I breathe out. Am I?

I wonder if this itching fear goes away in time. There's a precarious balance with kids and ponies, and there's a huge responsibility when you have someone else's baby on an 800 pound animal with a mind of his own. Now, I know they're going to fall. That's inevitable. (The first and last time this Little fell, she bounced back up to my arms, clinging monkey style and sobbing.)

Even then, you want each first time to be the best time and to build from solid basics. When you introduce something new, you get a definite feel for how secure that foundation is.

I hope her foundation is unshakeable.

We start doing stretches and no stirrups. Trotting in airplane, hands to the sky, hands on her hips. She trots stirrup-less, no hands. We both swallow our concerns.

And she canters a step, nerves ricocheting in every directions. I think some of them might be mine. "Tell you what? We can play games if you promise me you'll canter at the end of your lesson."
She nods, mouth in a solemn line.

At the end of her lesson, the barn is crowded. Another rider came to play in some of our games; more wandered out to watch. Five or six people, eyes trained for her first real canter. But after an hour of silly games, she and her pony are relaxed and ready.

I clip on the longe line, reminding her about her heels. Fussing with her stirrups.
And she canters and she canters.
Until I say, "Time for free time!"
"Can I canter more?"
"Uh, no? You already cantered."

The whole barn high-fives her as I thank the big Man upstairs for another quiet beginning.

Cantz? Check.

-- Girl

ps, Baby Mama just came today to be bred.. If you didn't know, the baby daddy is Sir Sinclair from Iron Spring Farm. The baby will be born in the H year and will be named Haiku. (That's Baby Mama's name backwards. Horse's name is her mother's name in Old German.) Everybody think pink!