Saying hello to Mr. Fancypants

When Mr. Crankypants and I went to last weekend's horsemanship clinic, my primary goal was an attitude adjustment – to learn some things to help me bring out the best in Lyle and earn his cooperation. I wasn't expecting overnight miracles.



But a funny thing happened yesterday on our first ride since coming home. Mr. Crankypants didn't show up. That's not to say he won't walk out of the barn next time, but still, his total disappearance was quite unexpected.



About 20 minutes down the trail, something even more unexpected happened. Maybe you saw it – that explosive glow over the state of New Mexico when the bazillion-watt bulb lit up over my head? At the clinic, Tom pointed out to me something I was doing with my inside leg on a particular maneuver that was getting in Lyle's way. Yesterday, I connected the dots and realized I was doing that same thing almost every time I asked for any turn. The very second I stopped doing it, I got Lyle's power steering back.



Why didn't you say something, Lyle? Why didn't you tell me I was being an idiot and blocking you from doing the very thing I was asking you to do?

Oh, but I did. You just weren't listening.



Mr. Fancypants and I spent the rest of our ride dancing and gliding around trees and cacti, having the time of our lives, and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face for the rest of the day. All the things I had learned over the years – the horse is never wrong, it's a feel following a feel, give something you never gave and you'll get something you never had – took on new meaning because Lyle and I were in yet another new place. That's why I love this horsemanship stuff – it's a journey that's never going to end, and I learn something every stop along the way.