I'll be leaving in a few minutes to go to the fairgrounds where I'll be spending another day announcing a horse show. In this case, it's the annual 4-H horse show. Today's schedule includes the equitation classes, both English and Western.
The kids are divided by age groups and judged for blue, red or white ribbons. Everyone gets a ribbon, but if you go home with a white, there's a pretty clear message that you might need to do a little extra work or that your devious horse had a pre-arranged strategic plan designed to make you look bad.
White ribbons were my standard for 4-H sewing and the required style review. Somehow, I never felt the push to get any better with a needle and thread. Whenever I think sewing, I think humiliation tempered with apathy. I was bad and unmotivated. In fact, it took every bit of patience Eleanor Delamarter had to get me to complete my project each of those three years---many hours in her house, at her sewing machine too.
When it came to 4-H horse projects, though, I had a different attitude. I truly would have been humiliated to take home a white ribbon. I loved everything to do with horses, and I had a driven mother for a leader to make sure I did well. The only time I ever won anything below a blue ribbon was my first year when there were eight showman in the entire 4-H horse project.
One named Vickie Haight was the only one who must've been listening when the experts said, "Always turn your horse away from you." She's the only one who did it, and I'm guessing she must've been up at the front of the line, or I would have copied her. Whoever the dufus was in front of me, as I walked Cricket into the arena and followed the pattern, turned left instead of right. So, as an awkward 10-year-old lacking self confidence and awareness, I just went with the flow.
Afterward, when the judge, Ed Duren, told us we were a bunch of monkies and that we'd all get red ribbons, except Vickie, I learned one of the many indelible lessons of my life, which have been gleaned from stupid mistakes. I never turned a horse in the direction that it could step on my toe and crush my toenails again.
From that point on, I earned blue ribbons in fitting and showing. And from that point on, my horse was Tiny aka Gay Warena (her proper Arabian name). Tiny and I functioned as a well-oiled team for several years afterward. I always won a blue but yearned to some day take home the championship trophy.
During my last year of 4-H horse, it became evident that my wish would NOT come to fruition, when Jeanine Pucci stood first, and I stood second among the blues in the senior division. The championship class was set for after lunch. I knew that my chances of ever beating Jeanine with her beautifully polished chestnut gelding were basically nihil.
Jeanine had style as a showman, and she practically lived with that horse. I loved Tiny, but I had to spread my passions with several other barnyard horses, so Tiny did not receive the exclusive treatment enjoyed by Jeanine's one and only equine pal. I never fed Tiny cookies either.
That was Jeanine's fatal mistake. During the lunch hour, she decided to share her lunch with her horse. Well, during one Oreo handout, the horse bit Jeanine's finger----almost completely off! She had to go to the doctor and could not return for the championship.
So, by default (as has happened to me a few other times), I took home the 4-H horse fitting and showing trophy. I amply rewarded Tiny for her cooperation in the triumph----with a coffee can of grain!
Moral of the story: If ya wanta win fitting and showing, leave the cookies home!
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