D'ya think I just found these spurs? Spurs? Eeeek.
Yes...spurs. Caroline the Cowboy.
(Blimey - you should see some of the images that come up if you Google cowgirl! I can assure you it would be most uncomfortable riding a horse in that sort of scanty attire...)
Alfie has been going quite beautifully in the sand school ON HIS OWN (I mean, on his own with me riding him, not ENTIRELY on his own!) There's a dressage competition next week which, foolishly, I thought I might enter on both Poppy and Alfie, though not simultaneously.
With this in mind, on Saturday, after a good gallop on Ashdown Forest, we stopped off at said sand school where there were a number of other horses and riders practising.
Did Alfie go beautifully? Nope. He didn't go AT ALL. He didn't go when I spoke to him nicely. He didn't go when I kicked him politely. He didn't go when I slapped him smartly on the rear with the riding crop. He didn't go when I kicked him, slapped him and spoke to him less nicely all at the same time.
Hence - the spurs. NOT cowboy spurs. In fact, hardly spurs at all.
I'm in two minds about whether or not using spurs is admitting defeat...or just being economical with my energy, time and stress levels!