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Santa, This Is How You Do An Equestrian Christmas

December 15, 2017

Santa, I've been good - kept my heels down, chin up, cleaned my tack with respectable regularity - so this year, I've got a few favors to ask. Most things really aren't even for me, they are for the horse. Which is pretty darn selfless, if you ask me!

 

 Here's an modest list for your consideration.

 

 

1. Glue, or double sided tape to help me sit the trot. Also, full seat Velcro breeches. Whatever it takes to strap me in, I'm game! Bonus points if it keeps me from getting bucked off.

 

2. A nice set of abs for the same reasons as above. I'll take the washboard edition, please.

 

3. A vet with a rewards program. Is it too much to ask that the more you spend the more you save? Santa, I'd like to pay for my horse's next hock injection with points, please.

 

4. All of my equestrian organization subscriptions magically renewed. It's some kind of cruel game that they expire during the most expensive month of the year.

 

5. A dollar for every time someone asks to ride my horse. The aforementioned subscriptions would be paid for in FULL. Trust me.

 

6. My horse to bound in the canter with the same buoyant impulsion as Santa's reindeer. Is it just me, or is Rudolph perpetually uphill?

 

7. The resilience of youth. Why is it that at 15 years old you can be bucked off and bounce gently in the dirt only to immediately spring back in the saddle, but as an adult with 15 extra pounds of "cushion" you sink like a stone? Nowadays recovery takes a solid work week, and evenings require hot packs and wine to ease this achy body.   

 

8. I speak on behalf of any who has ever cared for a gray horse when I ask for a white Christmas. And by that I mean a clean horse that doesn't return from turnout with a coat covered in mud like a cement blanket, nor patchy green stains that REFUSE the power of any shampoo on the market. The winter season is nice if you watch it from your window, but not if you're an equestrian. 

 

9. A pony under the Christmas tree, with a big red bow, wreaking havoc in the living room in all of its adorable glory. Because let's face it - you can be 5 or 50, but that dream never dies.

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