New girl on the block; who she is, and why she’s with me.

If you follow me on social media, chances are you’ve seen some videos of me riding a grey horse. Although I ride a variety of horses on a daily basis, I will only ever share videos of my own horse, Parlay. And while this one isn’t mine, she is my project and responsibility. Let me explain.

Meet Firiel B (Fifi), a 10yo imported Holsteiner mare. I know her from my time living in Miami, she is owned by the people I worked for at a training facility in south Florida. Their daughter, Dani, was her primary rider. I frequently saw Dani ride, oftentimes her and I would jump school together on our horses. Fifi and her were a great pair, the horse seemed to love her job and had fun doing it. Only on the rare occasion would she stop to the fence, and it was always for good reason. The horse is smart, careful, and competitive. In the most mare-like fashion, she remembers things and isn’t always forgiving. This characteristic alone doesn’t necessarily make for the perfect amateur horse.

Fast forward approximately 6 months, and my former trainer contacts me from Miami. He shares that he’s sold his personal horse for Dani to ride and compete on, and that Fifi was sent to his facility. She developed a dirty stop, and consistently said no to jumping the jumps. That she was starting to go better with him, but she needed time and work put into her. To add to that, her skin began to become intolerable of the Florida heat.. it was raw and irritable, and no prescription or supplement brought relief. He offered to send her north for me to care for and ride, with no expense coming from my pocket. In short, her owners would handle the bills, if I promised to treat her as my own and try to get her sold. She needed a new climate for her skin, and a new zip code for her emotional well-being. The poor thing was miserable, so it was pretty urgent that she moves north sooner rather than later.

I of course jump on the opportunity; I’ll sit on anything if it means a chance to learn and develop into a better rider. Plus I know this horse, she was a barn favorite back when I worked with her owners. And, it was a win win for everybody involved. Better for the horse, which is essentially better for her people if they are wanting to get her moved. For the barn, it’s another horse on board. For me, a “free” horse… which never happens. I was honored that they would trust me with her, and as soon as I got the green light from my people here, we arranged shipping for her to make the move north.

Fifi a few months into her new life in NJ.

Upon arriving, she steps off the trailer looking pretty homely. Her skin truly is bad, so much so that she was unable to be ridden for quite some time prior to leaving. Because of this, she has zero muscle… no topline or neck whatsoever. The next day I turn her out in one of our paddocks, where she is able to run and play and stretch her legs. She didn’t have grass turnout in Florida, so I was excited to give her that here. Let her be a horse and decompress some. It’s late October now, so cooler temperatures should hopefully have her skin feeling better quickly.

The next day I tack up and head to the arena. I’ve ridden her before, so I have a brief understanding and expectation of what she’s like. However, the horse I knew was NOT the horse I felt that day. She comes out sore, stiff, and basically low grade lame in all limbs. Red Oaks other rider and friend of mine, Kayla, is there to witness it… and confirms that she looks as bad as she feels. I get off, and hope that some of it is stiffness from the trailer ride. The fact that she’s not been sat on in some time also plays a role. But regardless, she shouldn’t be that bad. I call my trainer at home to fill him in, he advises to give her some more time to adjust, and if there’s no improvement to call the vet out. I had seen videos of her going with him before they had to stop riding her, and she looked nothing like what she felt with me. I start giving her bute and robaxin to see if that makes a noticeable change. After a week, there’s some improvement, but she’s still not right. The owners agree to get the vet out, and let me give her whatever she needs medically. To no surprise, her hocks and stifles need help, so we inject those and run some bloodwork to rule out lymes or anything neurological.

I should also add that Fifi did have a hard job in Florida, jumping big jumps at home and showing often enough. A hard job being relative, of course. All this to say that she had accumulated some miles.

For the first month of having her, I spent my time nursing her back to a physically better place. We went on tack walks around the property, or at most had VERY brief flat rides. Her skin cleared up, and she began putting on weight. My farrier, dentist, and vet have all chimed in and gave me the assurance that she could begin working again, ruling out pain or anything medical that might be at the root of her stopping.

I didn’t even think to start jumping her until mid December. I first had to get through behavioral habits on the flat - she learned to be pretty nasty about stepping into the canter. I’d cue to go forward, and she’d plant her feet, pin her ears, buck, you name it. At first I was scared to discipline her for it, thinking surely she hurts somewhere and is trying to tell me. However, with the help from other expert opinions in various fields of work, I’m eventually able to rule out pain being the source. This had become a learned habit, something she had been able to get away with in the past. Horses are smart, and it doesn’t take long for them to learn our weaknesses and test our buttons. I’d worked with plenty of horses with far worse habits than this, so wasn’t much phased by it. After some time and consistency, this “problem” has completely gone away. I’ll occasionally get her opinion about cantering by pinned ears and being sulky to start - but that’s OK with me. I have to pick and choose my battles, and this isn’t something worth arguing over right now. Her simply saying yes to what I’m asking is a win considering where we started from.

When I do start jumping, everything is small. As in 2ft small. And you would think I was pointing her at a 6ft oxer that was as wide as it is tall. This horse is so insecure, peeking at every flower box and rock that we have as fill in the arena. You can tell that she’d been put underneath some jumps, and that she’d turned very defensive towards her job. This was not the horse I used to know, which was honestly heartbreaking for me to witness. I was sad for her, but also determined to show her that her life was different now, that she could have a really easy, low pressure job.

I want to add that her owner and rider Dani is a very talented and unoffensive rider. She’s in high school still, so is young and learning herself. But for perspective, she currently competes in the 1.15m classes with her new horse, and does well at that. Not every horse, however, is suitable for every job. Fifi is one of those cases, and it’s nobody’s fault. She’s at a place now where she needs a really confident and accurate rider who will give her the confidence that she lacks. The last thing she needs right now is to go out and compete in bigger classes.

Fifi and I jump schooling.

It’s early February now, and Fifi has transformed physically and emotionally. Her program consists of jumping 1-2x weekly, and flatting over poles and small exercises most of the other days. She is one that has to step over something often for the sake of keeping her headspace right. She still has a stop in her, and some days she comes out more unsure than others. I will say, she keeps things interesting. We’ve had our moments together where I question how I stayed on afterwards… but I think it’s helped her realize that I’ll go through the fire with her. And in doing so, she trusts me more and more by the week. I’d be lying if I said I trusted her, because I can’t.. but what I can do is give her my best and show her that I’m not scared of the jumps. When I give her that, something switches in her brain and she turns into a different ride. Even though she peeks and sometimes sucks back, I get this feeling where I know she will jump every single fence I point at her. She’s one that will study every jump out there, which can be tough to interpret when you know they’ve got a stop in them. But we’ve gotten to the point where her and I understand each other, and when she decides to trust me, it’s the best feeling in the world. There are still ugly moments in between, but the good ones are what I hold onto and remember. To me, she’s worth it.

I’m eager to spend the winter with her, with plenty of time to develop her slowly. If all goes as planned, come spring time she will be ready to step into some local show rings. I will most likely release another blog with an update come on how she is doing come then. She’s a work in progress, and I’m loving every moment of it!