Post by Elani Jeffensburg on Apr 26, 2007 1:03:28 GMT -5
Houdini was definatly a great horse. He could jump to the moon. He had come back from the dead. He had traveled all the way here from New Zealand. The one thing Elani didnt like about him, he had no stamina. She had tried everything, trotting everyday for at least an hour before entering a canter. Hours and hours of dressage every day (which she hated). But his stamina would still fail at a competition. So she decided, it wasn't the length he couldn't handle it must be the speed and the length. The only way to fix that ....
Galloping.
Elani really didn't know how well this could go. He had never been on a racetrack before. He wasnt used to all the horses running wildly around. The petit throughbreds rolling their eyes as they would run past him. How would he deal with all that? The ring of the starting gate. Not to mention Elani was to big to be in a racing saddle so she had to gallop him in her english tack, practically a blasphamy on the race track. Oh well, she puffed, and mounted.
Vigor.
Houdini was a NZ Sporthorse of solid muscle. As the flightly throughbreds whizzed past the thick-set draft cross Houdini's mindset became more an more vicious. He was going to take the head of of the next horse that came past him. Elani refused to let him out as far as he could go but she wasnt super man and she couldnt stop a tank so it was definatly hard to slow Houdini. Even with a flash noseband on the clever boy was able to grasp the thick slippery metal Mickmar in his mouth. He charged into her hand just demanding that she let up on her tight rein. The horse galloped three times around the track. Enough. Enough for today breathed Elani. After taking a lap to slow her horse to a reasonable trot with his head in the proper position she walked him through the exit and proceded to walk her horse out. Her tired body sat limply and rounded in the saddle.
Galloping.
Elani really didn't know how well this could go. He had never been on a racetrack before. He wasnt used to all the horses running wildly around. The petit throughbreds rolling their eyes as they would run past him. How would he deal with all that? The ring of the starting gate. Not to mention Elani was to big to be in a racing saddle so she had to gallop him in her english tack, practically a blasphamy on the race track. Oh well, she puffed, and mounted.
Vigor.
Houdini was a NZ Sporthorse of solid muscle. As the flightly throughbreds whizzed past the thick-set draft cross Houdini's mindset became more an more vicious. He was going to take the head of of the next horse that came past him. Elani refused to let him out as far as he could go but she wasnt super man and she couldnt stop a tank so it was definatly hard to slow Houdini. Even with a flash noseband on the clever boy was able to grasp the thick slippery metal Mickmar in his mouth. He charged into her hand just demanding that she let up on her tight rein. The horse galloped three times around the track. Enough. Enough for today breathed Elani. After taking a lap to slow her horse to a reasonable trot with his head in the proper position she walked him through the exit and proceded to walk her horse out. Her tired body sat limply and rounded in the saddle.
