Dressage Professionals ::

Julia Snitzer

Posted 15 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (10512 views)

Everyone reading this has to understand that winning this award had the same importance to me that winning a gold medal would have to a professional. Especially after the very long, frustrating, expensive and painful journey I took to get here. I was soaking in all the ecstasy of this wonderful moment; That is until I realized the horrifying fact that winning this prestigious award meant that I would now have to publicly lay my life on the line and take Spirit back into the "ring of horrors" (which is what Spirit thought of the ring which hosted our first day's horrific ride) for a (certain) public humiliation called "The Award Ceremony." After all that I had been through emotionally and physically at this show - I just didn't know if I had it in me.

Several scenarios ran through my head but the one with Spirit bucking me off when they called my name was by far the worst. Then my "inner theater" played a scenario in my head of sucking myself up out of the mud (after I got dumped) and meeting the eyes of my dressage friends who were trying (kind of) not smile. My inner voice started to practice what I might say to them; "Oh, I hope I didn't splash anyone?" "How was my landing?" "I just hope Spirit is OK." The other scenario I envisioned is getting run away with in that ring. I pictured 2nd through 8th standing like soldiers waiting for the nice lady to give them a ribbon and me and Spirit whirling around the perimeter with the crowd making cat calls. I couldn't bear to think of it. My exhaustion from this agony and ecstasy weekend had brought me to the point of delusions, but I knew that I had to take this one more brave step in completing my dressage pilgrimage. I had to get dressed and ride Spirit into that ring of horrors like a brave girl and get whatever was coming to me.

So I did what any sane person would do in my shoes. I drank an entire case of wine coolers. (Kidding!) I told my trainer that she had to lead me in and run around with me holding Spirit during the victory gallop. I didn't think this was too much to ask, after all - if I died she would lose some important lesson and training revenue. But Hanne disagreed and we were on our own (after she pushed us though the gate.)

In we went to face the evil banners, flowers, evergreen bushes, etc. All the other horses sort of moved away and gave us lots of room - like when royalty enters a room (I fantasized). The harsh reality I'm sure was that they moved to stay clear of harm's way. After all, these were the people that had warmed up with us the day before.

Well, it was really Spirit that was royalty that day. He was a star. He stood like a saint the whole time and only did a little pawing. I think he was counting how much this ribbon cost me because he pretty much pawed the whole time. ("One hundred, two hundred, three hundred...) We got our big award (large ribbon that goes over his head) and he wasn't afraid and even tried to chew on it several times. When we got our photo taken, there was a little snorting, eyeing and ear tilting but we did get "reasonably close" to the photo area. I told the ladies there was no way was I going to let go of the reins to hold the flowers and blanket that they gave me. They laughed and said that was ok. When we did our victory trot through the knee deep footing (no one wanted to canter) I wiped away what many thought were tears of joy. Of course it was raining so hard that they may have been raindrops. (Or maybe I was actually crying that my brand new show coat was being ruined after wearing it only 3 times) But what a thrill for me. Only another dressage rider could understand me when I say "It was worth all the sacrifice."

Day Two - the Championship Class

Posted 12 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11409 views)

On the morning of our championship class I went into Spirit's stall, looked into his eyes and said "Spirit, I NEED you to be good today." My trainer laughed as he blew snot on me. Very symbolic.

We lunged him for about 30 minutes on Sunday and he was pretty good. He was still calling to the barn but seemed to settle down after a short while. I jumped on him to ride and I could immediately feel that he was still full of energy - shying and jumping around. I jumped right off and we lunged him again for 10 more minutes. I didn't care about the test. We had to fix this. When it was 15 minutes before my test, I had to get back on him. He was now good and finally completely obedient in the warm up ring! No leaping, no looking at the barn and neighing, just happy work in both reins. It was time for my ride and I had to take him by the two judges boxes. He was looking at them but was willing to go by them without too much trouble. Whew!

My memory of the test is like a blur to me now, but as I think back on it I think I had fun. Our problem areas are the transitions up to canter (he leaped in the air yesterday when this is usually his best movement), getting him to go into the corners where there are lots of flowers and also in the downward transitions where he can go against the hand too much. My first transition up to canter took place in a corner right where there were flowers and the judge at C. When he did it with no trouble - I started to think, "This is going to be ok. He is going to be good." My next problem area is a transition down from canter down the partial long side to trot at H and to walk at C right in front of the flowers/judge again. He was also good in this although he did brace against my hand too much. Now, we had the walk work which is easy for him. I knew that would be fine. Then there was some trot work which I also knew would be good. Then there was the last canter. I asked for the canter and for the first time I could tell that he was getting a little tired. I had to push a little harder which I'm not used to doing on ol' rocket ship Spirit. After the last canter, we have to show a circle of trot where the horse stretches out and down on a long rein. When we did this stretching circle, I got this huge smile on my face because I knew it was good and also because I was so happy that the test was almost over! We then had to do some quick turns and halt. He was now tired and the halt was a little slow and not perfect. I was so happy with him. He did not leap, look at the flowers, the barn or neigh to other horses - not one time! YEAH!

When I left the ring, I remember thinking that regardless of my score, Spirit was a winner today because he came through for me when it really counted. I wasn't completely optimistic about my score because his canter felt a bit lazy and the transitions could have been a little better. I hoped to at least be in the top 10 of the class - so my children's children could someday talk about the grandma who won the Midwest Olympics when she was young.

After we hosed Spirit down and gave him a big fat victory carrot my trainer and I set off for the awards/ scoring office. We heard this commotion in the trailer as a few people were gathering and looking at a test. We heard someone say "Wow" and then we heard someone say "Oh my gosh, I've never seen so many nines". The test was not official, so we weren't allowed to see it but my trainer could see the back of the test and that it had my number on it! We got very excited then. If I had gotten some 9's then it was looking really good for getting a ribbon. When the scores posted we couldn't believe it. The judge at C gave me 74.231% and the judge at B gave me an 83.077%. As I said, she gave us 10 scores of 9 and three of them were a coefficient of 2x. Best of all, she gave me a score of 8 on my riding which was very sweet for me.

My overall score was 78.654% and Spirit was the Region Four Training Level Adult Amateur Champion! I did it. I had become the type of person I had always loved to hated; the girl at the show who had the fancy horse that beat everyone! I was the new reigning queen of training level in the mid-west after my 6 year sojourn. Is this really happening or did I just get bucked off and I'm really laying in the hospital dreaming this moment? Success of any sort had been so removed from me - and now this? I can't believe it. I'm the happiest person west of the Mississippi.

Here I am, newly crowned dressage champion of Region 4...smiling in the rain. My almost unused show clothes will never be the same after this.

Day One at Regional Championships

Posted 11 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11530 views)

Ok, I won't make you wait. I'll just tell you right away how we did. We won the endurance division at the Region 4 dressage championships! The bad news is that there is no endurance division at the regional championships. Spirit just thought there was, and he remained determined for three days to win. Now here's the rest of the story...

Normally a 40 minute warm up strategy could be sufficient. Spirit seemed calm at the show when we arrived on Thursday. We gave him the entire day off on Friday with just a little schooling. We had walked him extensively and noted his relaxed demeanor and his Friday schooling went well. Of course, Spirit was thinking this light work was preparation for his endurance test.

Our first competition was to be Saturday's "Midwest Championship." It's really a made-up title (my apologies to the show manager) that everyone competes for on the days they AREN'T in the regional championships rides. The winner is really just a big fish in a little pond award, but I had qualified and was ready to be that big fish.

But the radical- 30 degree temperature drop coincided perfectly with Spirit's plan to do 100 miles in two days and the first 40 minutes of it (I was thinking this was going to be our warm up for a nice dressage test) turned out to be just long enough to go both directions in the (fast and strong) canter and not nearly long enough to get him ready to go down center line.

Spirit felt like a spring that was fully coiled, and he was wound to go for at least two days; and this 40 minute warm up wasn't going to even BEGIN to scratch his itch, but I was determined to follow through with my plan (meanwhile, Spirit was determined to follow through with his). As we raced around the warmup area with my quivering voice saying eeeeeaasy boy, I imagined that the TD was behind us, chasing after and asking me to leave the arena for the safety of others. And if she was, she never caught us, because at 50 mph, you can't hear or see anything except terrified horses and riders dodging you. But I did manage to hear my faithful trainer, Hanne who was dutifully yelling, "Look Out!," and eventually, "Julie, try to stop him, its time to go in!" Emotionally, I felt like a circus clown about to be shot out of a cannon, and thoughts were reeling in my head: "How was this going to end up? Am I ready for this? Would I live?"

The whole thing was very fast. In fact, I don't think the judge ever really got to sit down from the first salute till she had to spring back up. It was like a timed event and I have never been so out of control (sober that is). In fact, we never even went to some of the places in the arena where some of the movements were supposed to be done. It was terrible. A few 7's and 8's intermixed with 1's, 2's and 3's. I won't tell you my score except to say that if it were my age, I wouldn't be ready to retire for a while. The scribe accidentally wrote the judge's comment (which shall not be posted on this kid friendly site) and then crossed it out. Both judges DID mention that I really should at least "try" to do all of the movements. I hate when they say obvious things! Like I needed to hear, "try not to let him bolt down the long side," or "circle should be round" and the worst comment "horse tense." Well DUH! I paid for these comments? How about some useful insights like - "use a pully rein when he's bolting down the long side" try not to lose points next time by screaming "HEELP" quite so loudly during the trot/buck/canter transition or "keep your heels down during levades." Now that type of advice I could respect and feel like I had something to take home and work on.

Now, before I got a "really nice" horse, I loved to hate other people who had nice horses and got nice scores and beat me. That's why I bought a nice horse. I wanted to be one of those people I loved to hate. But what never occurred to me is just how humiliating it might be to get a bad score on a really nice horse. You see, the stakes are higher. Before, no one cared if I did well or not. To do well used to mean losing with a good score. Now, everyone except my trainer and (maybe) my friends (secretly) wanted me to blow it.

In case you haven't figured it out, when "friends" at a dressage show ask "How was your ride?," it really means "I hope I did better than you." Don't be fooled into thinking they want you to win. Tell them you got a bad score and watch them fight to keep the corners of their mouth from turning up. Mona Lisa was a dressage rider you know.

So now that all my friends were happy that they were bound to do better than me on my nice horse ("I beat that horse at the Championships in 06" I'll hear then say forever more"), we needed to get a plan for the next day's REAL championship. And since we were clearly dealing with WAY too much energy, off we went to let Spirit finish his 100 mile run and to let me lunge away my sorrows and hide from my victors. Spirit zoomed around and round and round for what seemed like eternity. After a long afternoon rest, it was back to the lunging ring and then back to the warm up under saddle, plus more hand walking. Would Spirit finally settle down before the Regional Championship ride tomorrow morning?

Final weeks before Regional Championships

Posted 06 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11719 views)

After bringing my horses home from Chicago (and the humiliation therewith). I decided we had a few weeks left to exorcise Spirit before regionals. We had the vet out, had his teeth done again (although they had been done recently) and basically hoped that he would forget all about Chicago and my attempt to give him "show exposure". I think I caught my trainer sprinkling holy water on his stall at night and once I'm sure I saw the robes of a priest disappearing down the aisle.

Lex had his own agenda though and despite my daily pamperings of cold hosing, hand walking and wrapping - he went lame again. He had seen enough of the show scene and was ready for another year of pasture. Maybe even a lifetime of pasture. We will see. My idea in qualifying both horses was that (with my luck) I would increase my chances of getting at least one of them to the show. That is basically what happened. One of them is going.

So, here we are in the days leading up to the Big Show. We pack up and leave tomorrow. Spirit has never completely reprised his role as the Linda Blair of equines. Some days he is awesome and some days he is horrible. I have no idea what is going to happen when we get to this show. Stay tuned....

Overconfident

Posted 06 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11715 views)

I was now getting ready to take both horses to a show at Lamplight. I needed one little qualifying score on Lex and Spirit was just going for the exposure. He was a spooky horse and had only shown that one time. I felt he needed to be around the shows some more before regionals came along.

I was feeling pretty confident at this time, dare I say cocky? I had shown the two horses in 11 classes and nabbed 9 blues and 2 reds. Yeah, I was cocky. The anointed Missouri Queen of Training Level, kiss my hand. My "friends" tried to remind me that any idiot can show a former 4th level horse (Lex) at training level and do well. I guess I should have felt guilt at that? I don't know. Lex had been off for over three years and was clearly not a 4th level horse now. I didn't care. I was having fun for the first time in 6 years. I was going to ride this wave (until it came crashing into the rocks.)

Chicago didn't go quite as I had planned. The first day was fine. I showed each horse in one class. Spirit won his class and Lex got second. Lex got his qualifying score and earned a free pass for the rest of the weekend. Spirit, however, wasn't feeling quite right to me. He was tense and stiff in my ride and I was having to counterbend him to the left a lot just to have any hope to steering him. I decided that I needed a longer warm up the next day to address this issue head on.

The next morning I was hanging around the hotel lobby getting coffee when I noticed "Big Name Grand Prix Rider" sitting by himself. BNGPR just "happens" to clinic in my area and I just "happened" to be thinking about joining those clinics. So, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to introduce myself! I did and he was very gracious. I mentioned the future clinics and he asked me about my horses. I modestly (ha!) talked about how well we were doing so far and thought to myself (and it pains me to admit this) how he would be so excited about having us in his clinics. What was I thinking? I completely forgot about Rule #1!

Rule #1: NEVER introduce yourself to a BNGPR at a show until ALL of your classes are over!!!!!

Fast forward to a few hours later and Spirit was in the warm up ring seized by what I could only describe as equine demonic possession (complete with green foam flinging out of his mouth as he tossed his head). Spirit had decided that he wanted nothing to do with this crowded ring and decided to do the following: Buck, kick out, careen out of control, work with his nostrils at the highest point, shake his head, try to rear, run me into the fence, hmmm. That is most of what I can remember. I just know that my ride was filled with lots of yelling "Look Out!" as we nearly ran into countless other riders. After one very close call with someone schooling a canter pirouette (literally missed her by an inch) I looked at her trainer who was giving me the evil eye on the rail. Yes, it was none other than BNGPR. Oh, the humiliation.

The rainbow after the storm

Posted 05 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11805 views)

The impossible had happened. My horse was diagnosed with early ringbone. RINGBONE. I viewed it as a death knell. Perhaps I was being a bit dramatic, but I think it was the final blow to me. Honestly, how much could one person be asked to take in the quest for mediocrity?

The vet talked me down off the barn roof (If I died who would buy him a new Porsche next year?) with the assurances that this may not ever be a problem. Being completely philosophical about the whole thing, I decided that since I had a horse that was more/less sound, I'd enter him into a show (and my friends began to take guesses at what new catastrophic event these plans might stir up). It was past tornado season, earthquakes aren't likely in Missouri and the show grounds aren't in a flood zone.

But Lady Luck took a different direction. My other lame horse, Lexington apparently got tired of drinking margarita's by the pool and decided that he was sound. Now Lex had been off living at the vet clinic for 10 months and I had basically assumed that he would never be sound again. The vet called me and said it was time to move him back and try riding him again. We took it verrrrry slowly over a five month period and sure enough - he was riding sound at the walk, trot and canter. My cup runneth over.

I took Spirit to our local show in June with great fear and trepidation. I had not shown in over six years. Spirit can be quite a spook, so it was unclear to me whether we would come down centerline at all. The Gods were with me that weekend though and I had the 'show of a lifetime'. It was like a dream. Spirit was good and in five classes his lowest score was a 72% He got six 9's and won 4 of 5 taking the Training Level Championship. I don't think I slept for a week. I smiled so much my teeth got dry. We even qualified for Regionals in one weekend. My husband told everyone at work that I qualified for the Olympics (he never really understood, but that's ok) I was ELATED! This, THIS is what I had been waiting for.

(Now in case you're reading these journals and think this is where I start going on and on about how my luck had now changed and you should be admiring me and be jealous of me for my well earned glory...keep reading.)

As I mapped out my future fame and glory on Spirit, I decided that he needed more show experience so the warmup wouldn't be quite as much of a near death experience for me. (I hate those warmups where random spectators video my ride...for insurance purposes...or funniest home video's...you're never sure; but it is disconcerting) He needed to be more relaxed in a warmup.

So we tempted fate and signed up for our 2nd show and even my oldest friends were afraid to doubt my pending victory. But my days of glory became a short tease as Spirit came up lame just as the show secretary cashed the check. Same foot, same issue. AAAAH.
But my years of bad luck had prepared me for these occasions and I bounced back from depression and came up with a brilliant idea! Lexington! He was going well now. It was Training Level. Would it work? I knew Lexington had "equine ESP" and always went lame right before a show, but I had a trick up my sleeve. THE ENTRY SAID "SPIRIT". Lex would never know until it was TOO LATE!

So, I told Lexington he was going back to the vet clinic, but when those trailer doors opened, voila! he was at a horse show. He was so shocked that he didn't have time to go lame or anything and by the end of the weekend he was the Training Level champion! I was triumphant! Both horses were going great. Lex had secured one score for regionals but still needed another. Was it possible that I would actually take TWO horses to regionals? I then fell victim to the sixth deadly sin: Greed. I wanted Lex to go too. I only had a few short weeks to get him qualified. I hastily entered a show in Chicago. He only needed to do one test. One little score.

I then decided that since I was going to Chicago anyway, Spirit still needed show exposure. Why not enter him too? He didn't even need to compete in classes (save one) but he would get valuable time in a show atmosphere to calm his spooky self. (Remember that sin?) I was sinning big time.

Emotional Tornado

Posted 05 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11805 views)

As a result of his broken coffin bone, Spirit earned himself a few more months of rest. I tended to my broken heart by working and running and waiting. What's another few months when you've been waiting nearly six years?

Finally, I was allowed to ride him and he was just as spectacular as I had hoped so many months ago. In fact, he was even nicer than I thought with much better gaits than I remembered and great forward energy. We did a month of walking and then a month of little trotting and I was really pretty happy. Suddenly, when I began asking him for a little more trot though - he began to limp. It wasn't terrible limping but just enough "off" that I was concerned. It was the same foot that had been broken and I didn't know what was happening. So, of course, I called the vet out again. I had no idea (truly) what was about to happen.

The vet came out and re-took the x-rays. First, we did the coffin bone. It looked EXCELLENT. You could barely see where the old fracture line was and it was completely healed! I was rejoicing inside. Then we x-rayed his pastern joint. I have had so many lamenesses now that I can read x-rays and ultrasounds as good as any vet. It wouldn't be enough to say my heart sank. I think I almost passed out. There, just barely forming, was a little hook of bone. Just a little bitty hook. But it wasn't there before and I knew it wasn't good. The vet pointed out the obvious to me (with my face white as a sheet) and reminded me that this was a common complication for coffin fractures. For some time after this x-ray - I wouldn't allow myself to say the word. I didn't say it to my friends, I didn't say it to my trainer and I denied it to myself. Ringbone.

Spirit Arrives

Posted 05 September 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (11792 views)

I was almost six years into my odyssey to find an escape for my pathetic dressage existence when Spirit came limping into my life. Yes, limping. He hurt himself on the way to my farm. Now, I'm not sure exactly how this happened or where this happened - but one thing was clear: it happened AFTER I owned him which was consistent with my past experiences of ownership. At least with Lexington I got to enjoy for 6 weeks before the Snitzer curse hit 'em and he went on permanent disability from a stall injury. With my Spirit purchase, I had scaled the scope of my bad luck to international dimensions.

As an experienced and wise dressage horse owner/ nurse/ non-rider, I had was more experienced than most at not having any hopes...and it was that lack of expectation that may have made the next few months somewhat easier to take....I guess.

Now while all this was certainly a tragedy and a terrible disappointment the real problem was less obvious to my sympathetic fellow dressage barn ladies: "How am I going to explain this to my husband?"

I know most men are sure they can tell if their wives are faking it - a good ride that is - but we know they can't. There are times when it is better for both parties to just go along with a deception. So, I LIED. I want you to know that under normal circumstances I would never deceive my dear supportive husband - but I knew in my heart of hearts that he truly, TRULY would want to be lied to in this particular situation. As a side note; it used to irritate me that he didn't ask me "How was your ride today, honey?," but now I've come to appreciate the fact that I didn't have to be covert about my deception. When I'd come home and say, "Spirit was so good today," he didn't have to know that I was talking about how well he stood for the x-rays.

Eventually, the guilt got to me though and I told myself that if he asked me again that I would tell him the truth. But Fate took a strange twist and suddenly he didn't ask! At first it was a relief, but after some time I began to really question his powers of observation. Didn't he notice that at no time did I actually wear riding clothes? That I was not constantly warning him not to wash my riding pants EVEN IF they ended up in the hamper? If he told me he was golfing and came home still wearing his scrubs�I WOULD NOTICE. (Maybe I should have gotten a nose ring just to see if he even looks at me anymore!)

The guilt built up inside me though and I began to really feel badly about it. The whole deception came to a crashing halt when I finally realized I needed a more thorough veterinary exam of Spirit to determine what was really going on. This wasn't a lost shoe and pesky abscess. This had gone on too long. Spirit's hoof had become my "Telltale Heart."

Now, while my dear husband may not have noticed that I went to the barn every day without breeches for several months, he wouldn't miss a vet bill...so before the big one arrived, I confessed that Spirit had a little boo boo. An expensive boo boo which turned out to be a hairline fracture of the coffin bone. It could have been worse. My husband expressed only mild surprise at my confession. (His words were probably not something I would want to repeat.) His anger (thankfully) was somewhat tempered by his pity when he saw how upset I was at the new diagnosis. (Actually, I think he was just numb at this point and really expected nothing different from the whole horse business anyway.) And ladies, when all else fails, cry. This works for speeding tickets too sometimes.

The vet said he only needed a few more months off and then he would be "right as rain." Yeah, in the Midwest we have some massive spring storms and the sky was getting dark....

Trying Again

Posted 16 August 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (12037 views)

In the big picture, 5 years of desperately seeking a fulfilled life as a dressage rider isn't a long time. And while I pursued this dream I kept busy: I gave birth, broke my arm and sacrum, and was full time nurse to my lame horses. Although my professional career was business/accounting related, I (like many horse owners) became an expert in horse health while nursing their injuries which included: a broken hip, bowed tendon, two torn suspensories, headshaking syndrome and bone chip surgery. Eventually I rented a "suite" for Lexington at the vet clinic because daily board there was cheaper than the 2x a day vet calls. My vet bought a Porsche that summer. You probably think I am making that up. (I am not making that up.)

I am of old German stock myself and become certain that when things get tough - I must remain stoic and try again. Anyway, I was kind of growing fond of my new nickname "Lucky Snitzer." I just knew that good things were around the corner for me. My husband agreed to my request to purchase another horse (after my 60 day hunger strike) on one condition: I would NOT go to Europe and ride again. Deal. I called my faithful friend who shops in Europe regularly and put in my order. I had time, I had budget - I was set.

Before long I found a wonderful little black gelding that I fell in love with - amateur friendly, great gaits, my price range. Sold. When I learned that he needed pre-purchase surgery on an abnormality - I just knew that he was right for me! My now 5-year-old daughter named him "Spirit" which I really hated. Much to my shock, that actually ended up being his original registered name! I had heard it was bad luck to change a horse's name and goodness knows I didn't need any more bad luck. So, "Spirit" it was.

I had arranged for Spirit to spend a month with a trainer friend of mine once he came out of quarantine. I was tingling with anticipation. I'll never forget the phone call when he arrived at their farm. "Oh Julie, uh....he was a little bit off when he came to the farm. He lost a shoe somewhere and ... I'm SURE he is going to be fine." THUNK.

Giving back to dressage

Posted 08 August 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (12446 views)

Now that I had enjoyed my few weeks with "my horse of a lifetime", my role suddenly changed. Lexington helped me find a new purpose in life: helping my veterinarians afford an Ivy League education for their kids (and generations thereafter.)

What I learned through this is why they used to shoot lame horses in the ol' west. It makes sense, sad as it seems. But I could never shoot my beloved Lexington, especially after the few weeks we had enjoyed together in the dressage arena.

I also learned that the worst kinds of lamenesses are the ones that come and go. My pet bird started saying "Lexington was sound today," and "I think I'll sign up for a clinic." He also started saying "Call the vet...waaak."

And being the optimist that I am, I rehabilitated, hand walked, therapied, wrapped and poulticed for two years. Meanwhile, I organized regular clinics for my GMO and even hosted the clinician.

Thus began the period in my dressage career where I gave back something to the dressage community for my (approximately) 6 weeks of riding I had enjoyed over a several year period. I ended up organizing clinic after clinic, year after year, hosting the instructor in my home and having to cancel my own rides every time. I was the perpetual auditor. I sat for weekend after weekend watching my friends ride their horses while I weighted my seatbones evenly in the chair in the viewing lounge promising myself that next time I would be riding.

But before you conclude that I'm the dressage world's biggest sucker, I must explain that Lexington was basically sound from his "bone chip" surgery nearly every month. After a little work, he'd go dead lame - right before each clinic or show. He had a unique ability to perceive closing dates that astounded me. He would lure me into the idea that I should enter a show or put myself down for a clinic ride then go off about three or four days before the event. He had to have known.

Lexington was careful to coordinate his two year season of calamity with my local GMO's newly instituted policy of "absolutely no refunds" after the closing date - which resulted (much to my credit) in a club's treasury surplus big enough to fund a clinic with a nationally famous instructor (of course I couldn't ride in it).

So now that my Veterinarians' kids were attending Princeton and Harvard, my GMO had drawn up a 99 year lease for the use of my house for clinicians and I had funded its yearly event I knew once again that I needed to move on.

So with well earned disappointment, I gave up on Lexington (the most perfect horse I never rode) and put him out to pasture and started horse shopping again determined to end my five year string of bad luck. One could never say I wasn't determined.

For all you horse people out there that are married, you might imagine how that conversation went at the dinner table. "Honey, I need another horse." I helped him dislodge the meat that was now firmly lodged in his throat, calmed him down and went on to explain that I just couldn't be happy if I didn't get to ride every day and certainly he wanted me to be happy, right? Happy wife means...well, perks for the entire family. So I had the support I needed and was ready to shop for the new horse of my dreams while Lexington sat by the pool and drank Margaritas.

Traveling luck

Posted 07 August 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (12471 views)

Now I mentioned that I'm an unlucky traveler but that didn't stop me from going to Europe. In fact between this post and my last post I was in Europe at the Young Horse Championships (wow!) and driving around helping my friends while they shopped for horses (WOW WOW). I'm TOTALLY sold on the (theory) of European shopping.

Here is why I consider myself an unlucky traveller. The first time I went to Europe horse shopping I got the flu and my friend ended up flying home without me. The next time I went, the horse I picked didn't pass the vetting. The third time I went, I broke my arm in southern Holland and had to be shipped home with a private nurse (who looked and sounded incredibly like Mrs Doubtfire). I ended up spending most of my "new horse" fund on the transport home as my insurance company denied my claim (BUY TRIP INSURACE IF YOU EVER GO.) That little mistake cost me about $20,000. It only took two plates, eight screws, healing a broken arm and sacrum and six months in physical therapy for my doctor to declare me "ready to ride" again. Sure as heck, I bounded out of there determined to try again.

Let me digress a bit on my traveling luck though. As they say on TV "and that's not all!." Although it had nothing to do with horse shopping, I am famous in familial circles for what is now known as "The Tony Bennett Incident". That was the time I flew on the Concorde, ate bad cavier on the plane and spent the entire flight in the bathroom sick as a dog - until I was ordered to puke in a bag at my seat during the 45 minutes we were on a holding pattern around London.

Of course, that was the time I got seated with my mother-in-law (who is a HUGE Tony Bennett fan) and (who else but) Tony Bennett who I'm sure was very distracted by the spontaneous and continuous loud barf sounds I tried to muffle in my airsick bag while ignoring the darting eyes from my embarassed and disapproving mother-in-law. I didn't get anything on the back of Tony's head, but months later he was interviewed by an in flight magazine and mentioned his "worst flying experience." I nearly died a thousand deaths of embarassment when my sister faxed that article to me. (Note: my sister fessed up later that she had created the article with photoshop and faxed it to me as a joke. To this day I'm not sure which is true - maybe she was just trying to make me feel better.)

Another "incident" occurred when my entire family got sick in Las Vegas (including the Nanny). Instead of my relaxing family vacation, I went in between connecting rooms dispensing Advil, Pepto and thermometers. This particular Nanny stayed in bed the entire time (except to get up for her free massage which WE paid for and which had been arranged prior to our arrival.) That was the day I swore to never take another family vacation and hereafter only travel on my own trips with no husbands, nannies, children or riding.

OK, back to horses. I had taken a few trips, had spent a lot of money, had some injuries that would live with me forevermore but after four years of trying I still had NO horse. I remained philosophical and was planning my next back to Europe and my friend called me from Pennsylvania saying, "I have the perfect horse for you, just imported, 16.2 bay gelding, beautiful, easy and sound." Best part of all? I didn't have to TRAVEL to get him! Before you know it, Lexington was in my barn. I was in heaven.... for a whole couple of weeks until he kicked through his stall and got a bone chip and went lame. AAAAAHHH. And that's not all....

Entry Four - Euro shopping trip #1

Posted 29 July 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (12944 views)

Even though the record will show that I'm the world's most unlucky traveller (and I will share some of those stories with you) I understood that a serious dressage rider like me was best off shopping in Europe with a qualified helper. I have to say that even though my first choice horse ended up not vetting out (by the European vets), I was convinced that I had done the right thing. A barn mate went at the same time and found a wonderful horse that she continues to be quite successful with.

Not only are there so many horses to look at (if you use the right people) but it is so educational. What I learned is that all the girls in Holland have longer legs than me and after 3 days I felt like a genetic defect. I had to shorten my stirrups 10 holes on most horses, sometimes more. I also learned that I needed to develop my skill in being able to lift my foot to face level and place it in a 5" hole (stirrup) while skipping at approx 7 mi per hour (horse trotting away)on my other foot. It's called mounting without a mounting block on horses that don't stand still and it ends with a heroic leap, pull, grunt and retreat and release. "Would you like a step?" some pretty european accent would suggest. ("NO, I LIKE DOING IT THIS WAY - my sarcastic inner voice retorts) uh...if its not too much touble. But really, everyone was very nice to me and I had the time of my life. I swore I'd never shop any other way.

But the most memorable part of my first shopping trip is after we had a lovely dinner and discussion about our collection of back massage tools, thera-canes, knobbies and back balls (I've come to learn that dressage riders tend to keep these things in a drawer in their bedstands). My girlfriend and I were getting ready to say goodnight to my trainer and he innocently asked us from outside his hotel room door,"do you want to see my knobbie?" "OOOHH, look at the time" we said. Maybe another time. He retired and we fell down laughing in the hall.

My first clinic

Posted 28 July 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (13151 views)

Third Entry: But before I move on - I have to talk about my first "real" dressage clinic. Having earned my qualifying 48% at a recognized show (I noticed the judge doing Tai Chi to relax after my last salute)I signed up for my first real clinic from a well known clinician who came to town periodically. Now, I heard he was really tough - but I thought I could handle it. My own trainer yelled at me regularly. How bad could it be?

I warmed up and I'll never forget his first words to me: "nice tail." I was elated. He liked my horse who, by the way had a great tail. (Sadly, it was years later that I learned that "nice tail" was actually secret trainer code for "your horse is so awful I don't even know what to say, so I will say "nice tail." "Nice color" is used interchangeably - so don't fall for it!)

The rest of my lesson is just a blur to me now but I do remember my horse being compared to a "salamander on ice." Now I didn't get quite the warm fuzzy about this one like the "nice tail" statement, and I wasn't sure what he meant. Maybe its the name of a mixed drink where he comes from. But I did get a renewed sense of determination to FIX this salamander and my faithful trainer who had helped me earn my 48% was right there by my side convincing me that he had to reach down.

And reach down we did.

I was pleased to demonstrate my progress at the next clinic but at that point I think this guy just really didn't know to do to make it look anything like dressage. While he was explaining theory about balance, I was thinking "Why couldn't I just seesaw the reins and get his head down? Seeing that I was clueless, he ask me what I thought I should do now? I said "spin him?" (that's what we do in the Midwest when things aren't going right. That's true for horses and men)

Now I was thirty something at the time and had never seen fire come out of a person's ears, a man's head turn completely around and eyes rolled back in his head - like on the exorcist movie; but you know if you make a dressage clinician frustrated enough - well stress can do strange things to people. So I saw his face - I knew that "spin him" was not the correct answer.

The clinician came up to me later, handed me his card and kindly said "Your horse is one of the most untalented dressage horses I have ever seen. Give me a call if you ever want to buy a different one."
I remember my trainer was just appalled by that comment. I was not. I knew he was right.

Working on balance

Posted 27 July 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (13175 views)

Second Entry:
Amazingly, I've already gotten reactions from this short post requesting my next entry - ok, here goes.

Before my journal leaves my first gelding out to pasture, I should tell you that he could do wonderful flying changes. I don't know why or how or exactly where they came from, but he could do them; even with hind legs that were about as dressage like as an 80 year old man that just got out of bed
What I learned is that every horse has their "thing." My horse was a flying change savant- the rest of the time we ran around on the forehand.

I came to realize that all good dressage things originate from engagement and power of the hind leg. If you try to imitate any of these good things while circumventing balance and impulsion - it will come back to haunt you. The other concern with riding your horse on the forehand for too long is that your local club may institute a perpetual training level test one trophy in your name - and award it to riders who rode the same test for 10 years. I couldn't bear the thought of that so I decided I had to move on.

Now, I guess that every dressage rider eventually has to give up on their horse at some point; either because of old age or because (like in my case) the realization that you couldn't make water run uphill.

So I set out to find a new career for my old friend. Given his conformation, a kids sliding board came to mind for his new role, but instead I donated him to a handicapped riding program since he was a dependable old soul; or so we thought until the day he bit a little handicapped kid and was fired from his job and sent to the retirement pasture.

But that's how my first chapter ended and thus began the next chapter of my six year journey away from mediocre dressage and journey toward self actualization in the dressage world (poverty, physical trauma and humiliation) where I could experience the joy and excitement that dressage riders experience (the occasional vague sense of accomplishment).

First Dressage Horse

Posted 26 July 2006 by Julia Snitzer from (13186 views)

First Entry:
Well here's the beginning of my story...
I've had my 10 year plus dressage career in the dressage Mecca of the world - Missouri. Germans make their yearly pilgrimage here to study under us and judges set the standard of excellence by our performance. Ok, excuse my sarcasm - but you know we definitely get the award for the most improved dressage riders and we have proven systematically and passionately that nearly every breed under the sun other than warmbloods can be ridden down the center line. We are waiting for the judges to figure out that saddlebred - morgan - quarter horse - fox trotter crosses can do dressage. But really, we're coming along just fine in the dressage world - centrally isolated in the middle of the country.

So I bought myself a real dressage horse: a big grey trakehner gelding back in the 90's. He was a big mover and had a lot of power. Of course every Jr high student knows that when things move downhill they have more power. Anyway, we did the logical thing you do with a downhill gelding, we taught him to reach down.

Thinking back, I should have questioned this approach merely on the physics involved, but good dressage students from the Midwest should be seen and not heard. Using a unique hand wiggle, butt squeeze and just the right kind of kick he'd lower his head even lower than his low set shoulders and we got him "over the back." Never mind that his hind quarters were about as high as my mid back - we got him "reaching" and we were proud of it.

After a clinician (who shall remain unnamed) asked me if he can jump, I knew that our Grand Prix aspirations were hopeless. And the fact is, he couldn't jump either, and didn't stay sound. But he was a very kind gentleman who taught me a lot about confidence, position and was terribly forgiving as I waded through my beginning dressage years. Hats off to all those first horses. He's enjoying a worthy retirement as he helped to prep me for Lexington, my Dutch gelding. (to be continued)