Preschool In A Dressage Arena: Where Is Big Bird When You Need Him?
by Eleanor - September 2nd, 2009.Filed under: riding.
Sage's outdoor dressage arena
I was aptly reminded of my ignorance today by a three year old.
I was riding Sage with my now-standard gear of halter, bareback pad, and cowboy boots while my audience of one watched intently from the sidelines, waiting patiently for her turn.
My Favorite Flavor Is Patience
Patience for a three year old is more than a virtue – its an ice cream cone on a hot day. It melts fast and can leave a big, sticky mess.
I was trying to take advantage of my more-than-likely short horse ride and was deep in thought, trying to practice what I have been reading in my Centered Riding book before time was up and the arena became filled with melted ice cream.
Dressage And The Alphabet
“What are the letters for?” my daughter asked out of the blue.
After a moment of confusion, I realized that she was referring to the letters in the arena. She doesn’t quite have the whole alphabet down, but I assume she knows it well enough to know that C, M, E, F, P, R, and K are out of sequence and not the complete alphabet.
“Well”, I said after some thought, not being a dressage expert, “I think they are for patterns, you know; you need to get your horse to go from one letter to another.”
“I want Sage to do that.”
“Oh, well, Sage doesn’t know how to do that sweetie. And neither do I. But let’s see what we can do.”
And knowing pretty well that my one-on-one time with Sage was up, I walked Sage through some zig-zagged imaginary dressage test to the giggles and amusement of my 3 year old judge. I then put her up on Sage herself and tested her knowledge of the letters and what words began with each one.
End On A Positive Note – With Horses And Three Year Olds
I ended up holding preschool in a dressage arena instead of getting much further along in Sage’s progress or mine. Alas, I am realizing lately just how very green my horse and I are; she has only had a couple of months of professional training, which took place a few years back, while I have spent the majority of time over the past eight years trying to figure out what ailed her. I did not concentrate on riding over that time – and neither did she.
However, each time I dismount now and return her to her herd, I hope that I am leaving her a little less green (but just as Sage) than when I led her out to the arena.
She’s only ten; I have some time. Perhaps one day before she and I are old ladies we will both do dressage together after all. Sans cowboy boots.