Horse Mavericks

While un-cinching Gambler, I stopped to wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.  I removed the saddle and my brand new Best Ever Saddle Pad.  A dry streak ran down the horse’s spine.  ”Hey Lanny,” I said.  He was sitting on the edge of the cement slab of his barn looking at a colt in his round pen.  ”Does this mean the saddle doesn’t fit?”

Lanny threw a piece of hay into the dirt and shook his head.  ”You’re gonna hear a lot about dry spots,” he said.  ”Everybody talks about dry spots. Let me ask you something.  When you sweat does your shirt get wet all at once?”

My t-shirt clung between my shoulder blades.  I reached back and pulled on the seam to un-stick it.  ”No.”

“You get wet here and there depending on where the air is running under your shirt.  Same thing happens with a horse.  It depends on where the air is running under the saddle.”

“So what do you look for?” I said.

Lanny drew his feet under him and stood.  ”Let me show you.”  He took his finger and circled it on Gambler’s back.  ”I look for this,” he said pointing at the mussed fur.  ”His hairs should be laying in their natural direction.  Unless you work your horse really hard and he’s wet all over, dry spots aren’t necessarily a good indication of how well the saddle fits.”

As I led Gambler out of the barn to his pasture, I thought about how, after hanging out with Lanny West, some other more experienced horse owners might feel the need to “help me out.”  They might notice I don’t use a currycomb because it irritates Gambler.  I only use a soft bristled brush unless there is a bad dirt clog on his back or under his girth.  They might notice I don’t pick the hooves before each ride because it removes the horse’s natural hoof support.  If there is a rock bothering him, I’ll pick it out.  And now, I’m gonna allow dry spots under my saddle.   

When I mentioned this to Lanny over lunch he said, “Yeah well, who are you gonna listen to?”

I knew what answer he was fishing for.  ”The horse.”

“That’s exactly right.”

When I thought back to when I saddled Gambler, he stood quietly licking his lips and nonchalantly swatting flies with his tail.  He didn’t seemed to be bothered by anything while I rode him.  Judging by the way he acted, I have to assume Lanny is right.  The saddle fits just fine.