Cob Jockey

(...until his back changes shape in six months and we have to go through this all over again.)

Despite knowing the Stackhouse fits him well, I was still nervous until I got my trainer's stamp of approval.  I have a history of going about things in an unconventional way (saddles purchased on eBay/without a fitter, acquiring a pony without her, acquiring a pony in general, getting a breed not typically known for eventing, giving my own shots, the list goes on...my trainer is a saint) which I think made her nervous in the past.  Now that I have a history there and credibility, I feel better about trusting my own abilities and doing things "backwards," but her approval still means the world to me.

Before the ride, she took a look at it, complimented the fit, agreed with me on the necessity for a back riser and said "...and a Stackhouse," with a note of comradery and approval in her voice.  "You'll be able to resell this easily if he does outgrow it."  That, combined with a hearty, "He does seem to really like that saddle," after she'd taught us in a part lunge/part under saddle lesson, was all I needed. 

For at least the winter, I'll be doing Dressage in the Collegiate, which is an all-purpose, but makes a much better Dressage saddle than a jump saddle.  What's that, you have a soft spot for rusted D rings and leather that might actually be painted instead of oiled?  Here, have a photo:

Stop taking me so seriously.  I actually really like riding in this saddle, just not looking at it.

That means with our current Dressage focus, I won't see much of the Stackhouse, which just doesn't agree with the stirrups being even a hole longer than jumping length.  Perfect for fences, which is what I bought it for, not so great for wrapping my leg around him and sitting deep.

Plus I needed some saddle-ular eye candy.

Shiny.  And publicly acceptable.

As one final note on my beloved Beval, it is now being loved by a little girl in Massachusetts, according to my eBay feedback.  That makes me happier than the news that some inanimate object I used to own is well-loved really should.