October 18, 2016 
I survived my first summer in Florida. I didn’t think I would since I barely survived summers in New Jersey, where I moved from last November. I came here to help my son and daughter-in-law with my precious baby granddaughter, Reagan Rae. In New Jersey, I belonged to the Delaware Valley Horseman’s Association, where the dressage shows were very important to me. Last year, I took up western dressage, because with all of the preparations in uprooting and moving to a new state, I would not have the time to meet my goals in First Level. The western pace is slower and that makes things easier for my horse, Joey. Plus, I like the bling on western attire.
The folks here informed me that Florida’s humidity would lighten up by mid-September. I was anxious to get out and do some showing, since I spent the summer trail riding. Truth be told, Joey is a Belgium-cross and Belgiums do not “do” humidity. Every morning when we begin our ride, Joey walks faster away from the barn and toward the other end of the property. I have to fight with him to turn around and go back toward the barn. I am still not quite sure if he is walking toward the big, live oak trees for some shade, or if he is walking toward the road to go back to New Jersey.
(Courtesy of the author.)
It was the second week in September and the humidity had only increased. I had already sent my entry in for the Triple Crown Competitions, a benefit show for retired racehorses, and a cause I was happy to support.
The Race Horse Reclaim (RHR) was founded by Miss Debbie Adams in Hot Springs, Arkansas 10 years ago, and now resides in Forth White, Florida. The organization has taken in hundreds of ex-racehorses and broodmares with the goal of rehoming as many as possible, while also retaining a large group in need of permanent sanctuary. The thoroughbreds come from different situations, including racetracks, training centers, breeding farms, and individual people who can no longer care for them. As many as 150,000 thoroughbreds enter the slaughter pipeline each year in this country. RHR works hard to help as many horses as possible avoid this fate.
The benefit show was holding dressage on Saturday and a mix of English and western classes on Sunday. I knew since the weather had not broken, cantering or loping was still out of the question, so I entered in the Western Walk/Jog Intro Level Test 4. We were going to the show to support the cause and have fun.
The day before the show, I stopped in Tractor Supply and saw a colorful pair of Western nylon reins. “I love these colors,” I said out loud, while staring at the reins and mentally going through my wardrobe. “I have got the perfect shirt to wear with these reins.” I picked them up and headed toward the check-out.
On Saturday morning, we were the first trailer to arrive. Billy John, my husband’s 17.2-hand mule, came along for the ride because he doesn’t like to stay home alone. Both animals grazed under the trees, while a nice breeze blew and rustled their manes, even in the high humidity. Since entries were light and mine was the second ride, I was allowed to warm up around the dressage ring in the covered arena out of the sun. Everyone who walked by commented on what a beautiful horse I had. Joey’s chestnut coat and blonde mane and tail are very striking. That, along with our matching attire, gave us ‘the looks’. Too bad we didn’t have the impulsion that day.
Peggy and Joey (Courtesy of the author.)
Impulsion, as George Morris taught me, is the response to a driving aid. Impulsion is a very important component in the dressage ring. Unfortunately, with Joey and most drafts, ‘impulsion’ and ‘high humidity’ don’t even belong in the same sentence!
Without ‘impulsion’, there would be no response to my left leg. Without ‘impulsion’, there would be no response to my right leg. Without ‘impulsion’, there would be no response to the stick.
More so, if I am too aggressive with my driving aids, especially the stick, Joey will plant his feet and pin his ears back. My horse grew up with mules and often copies their behavior. Joey is my partner, not my hired hand. He is special to me. I have allowed him to have a “voice”, and when he speaks, I listen. Demanding a performance from Joey under these circumstances would not be an option.
The dressage bell rang and I said my usual, “Okay Joe, let’s go!” He did liven up a little, but he was not on the bit and still far from his full horse show mode. I kept my reins loose and only asked my horse for accurate movements while keeping the same tempo. It was an easy test and I knew he could do that much.
We slow danced around the dressage arena. Joey’s ears bobbed back and forth to the rhythm of his gaits, ensuring me that he was comfortable and not laboring. He was happy when we halted at ‘X’ for our closing salute and the spectators applauded. He was even happier after his bath, when he joined Billy John under the trees for some serious grazing.
Since we were the only entry in our class, we received a ribbon to match my shirt and new reins. We received a low score, but that was okay. We did get a nice photo with the ribbon. It was a good day.
(Courtesy of the author.)
The next day, Joey stayed home and Billy John went off in the horse trailer. Billy John was entered in the trail class since he does not perform above the slow trot. When we stopped in the office to pick up our number, the secretary informed me that I was the only entry in the trail class, and they would not be setting it up for one entry.
“What else would you like to enter?” the woman asked me.
“We can do anything at the walk/trot,” I proudly informed her.
“We need another entry for barrel racing,” she said, looking up from her desk.
“All right, put us in,” I said. I laughed as I picked up my number and walked out the door.
Hours passed until it was time for me to tack up Billy John for his big moment. My husband George has deemed red to be Billy’s color. So I put on his red saddle pad and red nylon reins. I sported a red shirt. As I was warming up, spectators gathered in the bleachers to cheer on the big mule. When I told the ring steward I was ready, he gave a big grin and took out his stopwatch.
“I’ll start the watch as soon as you go through the cones,” he said, holding back an even wider grin.
“Let’s go Billy!” I shouted. With a rein in each hand, I took off at a posting trot around all three barrels. Billy’s driving ability came into play as he crossed his front legs at each barrel to make the turn. Going down the home stretch, I put both reins in one hand and waved my stick in the air. I yelled, “Ya, ya, ya!” but I didn’t hit Billy with the stick, of course.
Peggy and Billy Joe (Courtesy of the author.)
Billy John ran all three barrels in less than a minute, and the crowd in the bleachers cheered. Like Joey, Billy received a ribbon to match his attire and made a nice photo. Billy’s competitor was an authentic barrel racing horse, sparkling and schooled to perfection. Instead of being rough with her aids, the rider gracefully guided her horse around the barrels and the horse gave his all. There was a partnership between them and they were refreshing to watch.
Later that night, my son Aaron, his wife Devon, and my granddaughter Reagan joined George and I at Hobos Restaurant in Trenton for dinner to celebrate our blue ribbons and red ribbons. It was the only way to end a great weekend.
(Courtesy of the author.)
When the weather breaks, I will buckle down with some serious schooling in my dressage saddle. My goal is to develop a nice counter canter so when I return to New Jersey next spring, I can achieve the last two scores I need to earn my first level silver medal in the Delaware Valley Horseman’s Association. If I achieve this goal next season, I will be thrilled. If I don’t achieve this goal, I will not be saddened. Instead, I will put the western saddle back on Joey, and sport a western outfit with lots of bling!
So, the moral to the story is this: Don’t take horse showing too seriously. Do it for fun and learn what you can. This way you won’t be disappointed. God Bless all who read my story and keep smiling.
Click here to learn more about Race Horse Reclaim Thoroughbred Rescue.
About the Author
Peggy DeForte Vurgason began teaching horseback riding at the age of 15 and later went on to ride professionally. Today, Peggy competes in Western Dressage and trail riding on her horse, Homerun Joe, and along with her husband George and his mule, Billy John.
Peggy is the author of The American Riding System, a book for elementary equestrian students and teachers, and Long Ears and Short Tales, fiction stories for the Brayer magazine. She is also the author of Hootenanny Spirit,a soon to be published novel about her beloved childhood horse, Hootenanny, and how he has returned to her in Homerun Joe. Peggy and George reside in Newberry, Florida.
