Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2012 8:07:01 GMT -5
The colt was beginning to physically mature into a yearling as of now and his beady weanling structure was growing out into a muscular colt who was ready for training. Today was the day - ground work with a colt aged one year and three months. He stood tall for his age, around fifteen hands and one inch, but he had a lot of growing to do just yet. The colt at six months old was picked out as one to watch. Jester had muscle in all the right places, and though his bum would still be higher than his withers for a few years yet, he was a beauty. He had a perfectly conformed body for a colt of his age and after his first prospect show didn't go down to well, placing fourth, we knew what to do to put him in the limelight. We were going to do a few more training sessions together, to get him used to me, as well as everyone. We were going to give people a run for there money, for the Year 14 Turf Triple Crown, and this colt was going to destroy them all. I know I was being slightly overconfident in saying that, but I've seen colts like this before. They do increasingly bad in the prospect season, and when it comes to the two and three year old season, they toy with the competition and absolutely crush them.
I was exercising the colt daily to try and get his muscle up, and today would be the day where I introduced the bit and the saddle. Walking towards the stall, I placed the saddle over the door. Jester turned his head sharply and looked at it. He gazed before taking a couple of steps towards it. He stretched his neck out and touched it, then shook his head and walked a lap of his stall. I entered the stall walked over to him with the bridle. I let him look at it slightly, before slipping the reins over his head. He lifted his head and pinned his ears so I tried the other alternative, undoing the reins and putting them round his neck. I put one hand on his nose, and the other on the bridle before trying to put the bit in his mouth. He opened his mouth and let me put it in. I gently put it over his ears, as he tossed his head up.
He hated having his ears touched. I tried again and he let me. I smiled and stroked his neck. I got the saddle and walked over to him with it. He pricked his ears and arched his neck, sniffing it. I placed it gently on his back and then did the girth up. He turned to look at me and pinned his ears back. Easy, I stroked his shoulder. He calmed and I inched it up hole by hope. He was fine with it. I clipped the lunge line on and lead him out of the stall. I walked him to the round pen and he walked forward as I stood in the centre. He walked energetically along, not fazed by the saddle or bridle. I clicked him on into a trot and he responded very well. Trot on, I said. He’d get used to me saying it whilst in this gait. I continued to say those two words. We would spell the words out when I was little, as it helped me aswell as my pony. Woah, I said. And walk, He responded yet again. I let him off the lunge.
Walk on, I said, and he moved to the outside away from me and proceeded into a lively walk, like he was in his horse walker. Trot, I said, and he broke into a lively trot, before having a little series of bucks. He calmed back down and came back to a steady trot, and proceeded to trot, flicking his toes out. His muscles looked flexed and strong. I smiled and asked him to walk. I walked to beside him and clipped his headrope on, before stroking him. Good boy. I lead him back to his stall before untacking him. I gave him some treats and left him alone. Well done Jester.
