Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts

August 14, 2018

Venice and the Betadine Jug

When I got to the barn this morning, I thought Connor's under neck area looked a tad lumpy - hives.


No idea what caused them, could be anything this time of year.  He's going to be 100% fine, but it reminded me that I never shared one of me and Mary's most hilarious horse escapades in college on this blog.


The only time in my life I've ever had a horse with hives occurred after Mary and I were scrubbing a wound on the pony we co-owned sophomore year using the college's gallon jug of Betadine.  We weren't supposed to be using that Betadine because Venice was a privately owned horse and not a school horse, but we did it anyway because it was late at night and we thought we wouldn't get caught.

Mary jumping Venice in class

We had replaced the lid so the jug was closed tightly, and we left the jug on the ground next to Venice.  Well...Venice knocked over and then stepped on the closed jug...which caused yellow Betadine to positively EXPLODE all over our white-grey pony, us, the light blue walls of the college's boarder barn, the floor, EVERYTHING.  Like, picture a bomb filled with a gallon of Betadine going off, because that was a brand new bottle, still full.  That's what it looked like.

Picture this horse...covered in yellow leopard spots...

It only got worse when we tried to clean it up, because we used a hose, so of course all that Betadine turned into so much suds, it looked like a fraternity foam party in the barn aisle.

The security guard that found us frantically scrubbing walls and floors while standing in a mountain of bubbles at 10pm that night stopped to laugh his ass off before continuing on with his rounds.  To be honest, I probably would have done the same thing, and I wish there were pictures. 

Why no, we never did questionable things with our horse late at night, why do you ask?

In all the chaos, we hosed Venice down, but apparently not thoroughly enough, because when we got to the barn the next morning he was peppered with hives anywhere the Betadine hit him.  We had to wash our horse, and confess to destroying an entire gallon of the college's Betadine in the barn manager's office.  She thought it was hilarious and we didn't get in trouble.


And that's the only other time in my life I've had a horse that had hives.
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January 8, 2016

Throwback Friday: Shae at Graduation

The final semester of my senior year as an Equine Studies major was when I was first introduced to Cobs and Connor's breeder.  Dr. Marks, the chair of the equine department and my adviser, asked me to take Training and Handling II, where you break a horse to saddle for an outside client, because she wanted to be my client.

She wouldn't put her Welsh Cob, Shae, in the class unless I was assigned to him, because he was not quite three, and she wanted someone "so light he wouldn't know you're there" and "with your sense of humor, it's necessary to work with Welsh Cobs."

He was still at the college for my graduation at the end of the semester, so after the ceremony I went - where else - across campus to the barn.  All photos by my mom.



See his crooked ears?  My college has used this photo in programs and marketing materials.

Still so young, not even close to being filled out.


I loved him, how could I not?  He was the first Welsh Cob I ever met, and I was totally in love with the breed and with him.  Dr. Marks even offered him to me once, but I had to admit to myself after working with him for a semester that Shae didn't want to be a sporthorse despite being built for it.  He's now in the perfect home: on a heritage farm in Vermont, hanging out with the family dairy cow and a couple of horse crazy children.
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November 10, 2011

History, Part IV: Venice


In the interest of keeping things interesting, I’m going to skip through most of college.  The short version is: I went to a women’s college to major in Equine Studies and managed to get a real job afterward, no I did not go to major in riding, and yes, they were four of the greatest years of my life.  Not because of the program itself per se, but because it felt so good to be surrounded by sixty other horse crazy college girls and to focus on nothing but horses all the time.  Usually.

Mary and her stable management horse, Max.
One of those horse crazy girls, Mary, ended up becoming my best friend.  She had the riding education I wished I had, and every horse she sits on benefits from her talented riding.  In the summer after our freshman year, I called her to tell her about this awesome Welsh pony I’d ridden in a sales video for Laura, and a few hours later she called me back to ask if I wanted to buy him with her as a project.  And thus, Venice:
He's the little grey one on the right. 


He could have jumped anything.


With Venice, I felt, as my mom would say, that “I had arrived.”  I was a sophomore with a cute, smart pony with the work ethic of a machine, a good friend that was essentially teaching both of us, and the ability to ride whenever I wanted.   Unlike freshman year, we felt like we owned the place, and did things like teach Venice to chase us up and down the aisle of the big barn and definitely never jumped him when we weren’t supposed to…
Wait...I think my jumping position has actually devolved since this picture...



Venice did wonders for my confidence as an equestrian and a horse owner that year.  He took me to my first real non-IHSA show, took me rocketing over my first fences class in a show (it was hunters, we pretended it was jumpers, so sue me…) and gave me all kinds of awesome horse-owning challenges, like a bout with cellulitis and the unforgettable Betadine incident.  Al the security guard will never forget walking up to the aftermath of Venice swinging around while tied to the wall and stepping on the closed almost-full gallon jug of Betadine, sending orange solution all over me, my white-grey pony, and the pale blue walls of the old barn.  We were frantically trying to spray the Betadine out, which only turned to suds, and he started laughing hysterically when he saw the scene – frankly, I can’t blame him.

Doesn't everyone love a grey horse that plays hard in the mud?
Although I’d describe him as my first heart horse, he was never purchased to be kept, and we sold him for about what we paid for him right before I left to study abroad in Italy.  He went to a little eight year old girl, who to this day continues to keep me informed of their progress together, with stories such as “Jen, Venice jumped THREE FEET yesterday!  But not with me,” and “Me and Venice went to horse camp together!”  It’s a match made in heaven and a life-changing thing for that little girl.  Last time I saw a video of him, he was fat and happy and carting around that little girl like the packer he turned out to be.  Love that little guy.


Miss you, V.
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