Halloween Horse

I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years. Until now. Yesterday Ransom and I participated in my barn’s costume parade as “paintballers,” despite the fact that I’ve never actually played paintball. I had plenty of opportunities to at camp, but I had no desire to share in the glory of displaying one’s welts. Still, how could I resist the clever play on spots?

First up was a trip to the fabric store to make camouflage leg wraps for Ransom. Being the penny pincher I am, I pulled out the old sewing machine and made them myself. I sewed a lot when I was a kid, but it’s been a while since the days of making blankets for my model horses.

The clear vinyl mask was a bit trickier. I had a brand new package of black bias tape for the edging – except it was my grandmother’s and about 50 years old. It practically disintegrated as I worked with it.

The son of a friend of mine happened to have gear I could borrow (a stroke of luck – somehow I don’t think a watergun or chemistry goggles would have had quite the same effect!). Ransom flinched at first as I applied the sticky paint, but took it like a gentleman.

We faced worthy competition as we paraded around the arena together with a gothic sorceress, princess ballerina, rodeo queen gone bad, hula dancer, horse fly, Charles impersonator, and dark angel. Ransom observed the pink tutu and jiggling halo with curious interest. In the end we prevailed, taking home the award for “Most Creative” costume.

Showtime

It’d been four years since my last horse show, and for the first time, Ransom and I ventured into the discipline of cowboy dressage.

Our show weekend started with hat shopping on Friday. For as many years as I’ve ridden, and for as much time as I’ve spent riding Western, I’ve never owned a cowboy hat. On Saturday, I test rode my new head apparel and practiced my patterns for a final time. Ransom submitted to the spa afterwards, emerging clean, soft, and sweet-smelling. I don’t think about how big his blanket pattern is until I have to wash all that white!

We arrived at the show grounds at the crack of dawn Sunday. The horses finished breakfast while Jamie and I scouted the area. The arena lay nestled in the sequoias of the regional park. This was the perfect environment for Ransom’s first show – small and relaxed with only a few friendly competitors. Despite the low-key atmosphere, the morning brought a host of my insecurities to the surface. For starters, I’m a recovering perfectionist. Because of previous successes, I felt burdened by the pressure of higher expectations. My self-esteem is too dependent on comparing myself to others, and the whole point of a horse show is judging and critique. Not to mention how awkward it is to be compared to friends.

Ransom, fortunately, did not add to my nerves. Though he was a bit of a looky-lou, he was calm and collected, taking everything in stride. We rode our two tests and I appreciated his honesty – he was the same horse there that he was at the barn. For that I was proud of him. We came home with a lot to work on, but I could say the show was a success. Didn’t hurt to have a red ribbon, either.