Cantering an Ex-Racehorse in an English Pleasure Class (Don’t Make My Mistake)

Knight and I had a great time a week ago at his third horse show. The first time we showed it was a bit of a fiasco, the second time we showed it got better. This was our best show to date. He was calm. I was calm. Everyone around us was calm. We entered an English Pleasure class which was interesting since I misinterpreted the judge’s instructions about cantering.

For newer blog readers unfamiliar with my horse or people who are not acquainted to the ways of the Thoroughbred, they’re lovely animals but can be sensitive (i.e., nervous/spooky/fast/prancing/headflipping/dancing).

Saying he was calm is saying a lot.

I rode in two equitation classes (flat) and was thrilled to get a second out of about five in the first one, especially since the judge hated us all and made us sit the trot for what felt like an eternity. 

I don’t often sit the trot. It’s not very fun on this horse. Bouncy, bouncy.

I can manage for several strides and then I feel floppy and jarred like my boot or boots will dive through the stirrup–all the way to the heel. I don’t like that feeling so when I practice at home (not in a lesson) I trot for maybe 15 seconds and think, “That’s probably good enough,” and then I go to a glorious walk or maybe a fun canter.

The last class of the day was English pleasure. I have a faint memory of riding in this type of class when I was in 4-H back in the day. When Madonna was just starting her career and nobody that I knew had a computer at their house.

I know “pleasure” means the judge is looking at the horse, analyzing if the horse is a pleasure to ride. The judge won’t ask for a sitting trot (Hallelujah!) and I could bounce and flap around and as long as my horse looked good, it wouldn’t matter.

We began our class just fine tracking to the left. There were about five other riders. We walked in a relaxed fashion, then trotted and everything was great. The canter started perfectly until a man stationed at the rail about 20 feet from us took a picture using a flash and it caught my attention and Knight’s attention and he broke to a trot for a few strides.

Part of me wondered if the guy was intentionally trying to distract horses so his daughter or student could win. Who uses a flash on a sunny day in an outdoor arena?

(Seriously, if you’re a photographer reading this, why would someone use a flash on a sunny day outside?).

I hoped the judge saw the photographer’s shenanigans and realized my horse picked up his canter again with no trouble–such a pleasure to ride.

The announcer told us to walk and then, “Riders, walk on a loose rein.” So we did that. Knight stretched his head and neck down.

“Riders, reverse on a loose rein at the walk.” No problem. We did a half turn looping back to the rail to track right.

“Riders, canter please. Canter your horses.”

Let’s pause for a moment. What would you do in this situation?

I felt there were only two options:

1. pick up the reins to proper canter length and canter OR 

2. canter on a loose rein because “loose rein” was in the judge’s last set of instructions.

I was confused but went for Option 2 and began to canter on a loose rein. I recalled that as I entered the arena my trainer said for me to sit tall and upright and to get Knight to travel long and low. He travels long and low when on a loose rein so I must be doing the right thing.

Okay, so I did pick up about an inch or two of rein before our canter departure, but the reins were still unnaturally long for an English-style horse.

I was confused, but having fun. As I rode past my trainer I asked, “Am I supposed to be cantering on a loose rein?” She said no.

I’m not sure why I found this funny, but after I gathered up my reins and kept striding down the long side past the judge, I began to crack up. Literally. I couldn’t help myself from laughing aloud. Not a soft giggle, but a full-fledged series of guffaws.

We were told to walk and line up and I had no visions of blue. Or red, or yellow. I got a white ribbon, 4th place out of five. Not bad considering the rider error and breaking the canter. It always feels good not coming in last place. Although I someday want to get 8th place because I really like brown ribbons. They’re pretty and remind me of chocolate.

Comments: Have you ever been in a horse show and misinterpreted what the announcer told you to do? Or maybe you have a non horse-related embarrassing moment you would be kind enough to share. Thank you for your support, and thanks for reading!