The letters commemorate the sites of legendary falls by 18th century dressage masters: Karl somebody-or-other's stallion launched him into orbit from the end of one of the long sides, Conrad bought it in the middle of the far end, Xavier's horse got the urge to lie down and roll right in the center of the arena, etc.
"Hey, after riding 500 20m circles in rapid succession, who can remember the alphabet?"
The letters are consecutive and in alphabetical order, in a now extinct language spoken only by early 18th century Hanoverian carriage horses.
The very first dressage arena was designed by the lowest-bid contractor.
The letters were originally laid out by beleaguered riding pupils to facilitate pranks on their instructors, in which the pupils would pretend to be schooling various movements and figures while actually spelling out slanderous curses, in German, against their cruel and heartless instructors, their diabolical horses, and whatever silly person invented this dressage thing in the first place.
The letters are actually advertising billboards paid for by Sesame Street (This piaffe-passage transition was brought to you by the letter G!).
"What, you mean they're NOT in alphabetical order? Hey, that would explain why nobody else seems to understand how I've organized the office files..."
The other letters in the alphabet are "there" all right, they're just invisible--what do you think your horse has been spooking at all these years?
Well, the letters are "supposed" to be in alphabetical order, but somebody's Trakehner keeps getting out at night and rearranging them.
And now...(drum roll please)..the #1 Reason Why Dressage Arenas Are Made
That Way...
So they can double as landing strips for the invasion force from Planet Lippizinger. The Lipp spaceship is round and white, and can go from Speed of Light to full halt in just 120 meters. Though sometimes it finishes with its haunches a little out to the left.
There are heaps of horsey jokes and stories out there on the net... here are just a few. In some cases there is a link to the site they came from, but jokes spread like viruses and it's often not possible to attribute them reliably.........When you've seen enough, CLICK HERE to go back to.the Home Page
Your Horses are on Fire!
Much as I love shoeing horses, my business interests have led
me to design, patent, and manufacture machinery for farmers
who work with draft animals.
Since the farmers and teamsters who use my machines work with
draft animals almost exclusively, I acquired three Percherons.
They're the kindest, gentlest, most easygoing creatures on the
earth, but owning them created a problem for me. I had only ten acres of pasture; that's a little more than three acres a horse - hardly enough to feed three 1800-pound horses year round without haying.
Luckily, a nearby farmer has a large pasture that he hasn't used since he retired. I moseyed over and asked if I could use the pasture for the Percherons during the winter when I'd run out of grass. You should have seen his cataract-clouded eyes light up! He
told me he'd just turned 91 years old and had mourned the day he had sold his last team and converted to tractors. Yes, he said, he'd love to have the horses in his pasture.
October rolled around, and the horses finally ate the last stalk of grass in their field. I walked them down the road and let them into the large pasture which was knee deep in lush forage. They were in horsey heaven. January arrived, and the horses had grown long, thick winter coats. The weather had been cold, but little in the way of snow. The field had a clump of trees in the middle and when it snowed, the horses snuggled up under a huge pine and dozed.
With the first big snow came trouble. I was sitting at the breakfast table when the phone rang. It was a lady who lived in a house next to the pasture. She wanted to know if I owned the big horses. I told her that I did and asked her if there was something wrong. "The
horses have no building to go into to get out of the snow," she said. I explained that they had a big tree to stand under, and that their dense coat was an excellent insulator. I assured her that the horses were quite comfortable. Semi-satisfied, she let me return to
breakfast.
The following day the woman called back, and in a firm voice told me she was sure the horses were cold. I asked her how she knew this.
"Because they look cold," she replied.
"And in what way do they look cold?" I countered. Silence. Not a word for 30 seconds.
Finally, she said, "I just know they're cold!"
"Okay," I replied, "Why don't you meet me in the pasture in five minutes and, if the horses are cold, I'll take them into a barn."
She agreed. We met five minutes later.
"Will they hurt me?: she asked. "Do they kick or bite?"
It started to dawn on me that this woman was a busybody do-gooder who knew absolutely nothing about horses. With time on her hands, she probably decided that my horses needed rescuing and appointed herself their savior.
As soon as we entered the pasture, the horses trotted over looking for attention. Three 1800-pound "puppy dogs." After she watched me pet them for a few minutes I asked her if they looked cold.
"Well, no," she replied, "but it's hard to tell with all the hair."
"Why don't you put your hand on one and see if it feels cold to the touch?" I asked.
It was obvious she had never touched a horse before. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched one.
"Well, she said, "I have to admit that they do feel warm but I still wish they had a barn to go into."
Just then one of the horses dropped a big, steaming pile of manure on the snow. She stood looking at it, quite puzzled.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
No reply at first. Then she said, "Why isn't the horse standing in the pile?"
"Why would he do that" I asked.
"Because it would keep his feet warm," she replied.
That snapped it! I was trying to talk logically with a certifiable nut case! I left her standing in the field.
The snow melted a few days later, and I hear nothing more. Then another storm hit that promised to be a keeper. With the temperature staying well below freezing, I knew the snow wouldn't melt for a while, which meant I had to start feeding bales of hay until the
snow was gone. Since my daytime schedule was hectic, I found it easier to feed at night, usually around midnight. Two days after the snow had stopped falling, the old farmer called me. He said the woman was bothering him again, claiming the horses were not being fed. I assured him they were and told him of my nightly ritual.
The local animal protection society called the next day, explaining they received a report that I was starving my horses. I invited one of their inspectors to come out and see for himself. When the inspector arrived, I showed him the hay scattered over the field and
explained my feeding schedule. I told him about the woman who believed horses should stand in their manure. I asked him to confirm my nightly feedings with a neighbor who had seen me feeding the horses. He did and was satisfied that the woman was, in his own
words, a "Looney Tune."
A few weeks went by and along came another dusting of snow. The temperature hovered just around freezing, the snow melting as it hit the ground. The local animal control officer called. He was laughing so hard it was difficult to understand him. "Could I come over?" He asked. Fifteen minutes later he arrived, still laughing. His face was as red as a beet! I thought he was going to have a coronary on the spot. Finally, calmed down to a mild chuckle, he told me that a woman had reported my horses were on fire!
The officer apologized for the inconvenience of his visit, but it was office policy to investigate each complaint. I was too busy laughing to even notice. Regaining control of myself, I climbed into the officer's truck, and off we went to check on my "roasting" horses. When we arrived at the field, the sun was just starting to break through the clouds. Three gorgeous Percherons were standing there, contentedly munching on grass. Thick columns of steam rose off them as evaporated moisture in their coats condensed in the cold air. The officer and I were awed by the beauty of it, but soon the spell was broken. We both stated chuckling again, almost rolling on the ground. "Your horses are on fire!" the officer roared.
I never heard from the animal control people again. However, the woman continued pestering the old farmer with a myriad of odd ball complaints. I felt so sorry for him that I took the horses back to my place a month before I'd planned to. The farmer was sad to see them go. He still enjoys telling the story about those horses that were on fire.
get a mare to come into season? - take her to a show
get a mare in foal with the first cover? - let the wrong stallion get out
induce labour in a mare? - take a nap
ensure that she has that beautiful, perfectly
marked foal you always wanted? - sell her before she foals
Showing: how do you -
cure equine constipation? - load him into a clean float
cure equine insomnia? - enter him in an "in hand" class
demonstrate a perfect bascule? - enter him in "paced & mannered"
get him to jump low white rails? - enter a formal dressage test
achieve his best ever performance? - ride him at home in the back paddock with no-one watching
[The reverse of this rule: A horse's misbehavior will be in direct proportion to the number of people who are watching.]
Event Prospect...................
Dressage Prospect............
Hack Prospect...................
Sporting Prospect..............
Polo.Prospect......................
Endurance Prospect..........
Home Bred..........................
Nicely Started......................
Big Trot.................................
Flashy....................................
Attractive...............................
Big Boned............................
Elegant.................................
In Good Condition...............
Good doer............................
15.2hh...................................
16.2hh...................................
Bold.......................................
Forward going......................
Free Moving.........................
Athletic..................................
Needs Experienced Rider..
Quiet......................................
Dead Quiet...........................
Good in Traffic/Bombproof
Loves Children.....................
No Vices...............................
Well Mannered...................
Professionally Trained........
Arab Type.............................
TB Type................................
Quarter Horse Type.............
Pony type..............................
Warmblood Type.................
Draught Type........................
Easy to Catch.......................
To Good Home Only............
To Show Home Only............
To Loving Home Only..........
Must Sell...............................
All Offers Considered..........
Click on the
little horse to
go back to the top of the page
Big, Fast Horse
Big, Slow Horse
Pretty Colour
Short, Fast Horse
Fast Horse which can turn
Fast Horse which will sometimes turn
Knows Nothing
Lunges, but we don't have enough insurance to ride him yet
Can't canter
White Socks
Bay
Good thing he has a mane and tail or he'd be mistaken fo a cow
Too thin
Too fat
Founders every summer
14.3hh
15.3hh
Bolts
Bolts
Bolts
Bolts
Potentially lethal
Lame in front legs
Lame in all four legs
Lame all round, deaf and blind
Kicks and bites
(when he's wearing his muzzle)
Hasn't kicked, bitten or stepped on anyone for a week
Hasn't kicked, bitten or stepped on anyone for a month
Looks startled
Looks terrified
Fat
Small and hairy
Big and hairy
Very big and exceedingly hairy
Very Old
Expensive
Very expensive
Not really for sale unless you want to 1) pay twice what he's worth, 2) sign a 10-page legal document, and 3) allow the current owner to tuck him up in beddy-byes every night
Wife has left home taking kids
I am in traction for 6 months
HOW TO INTERPRET CLASSIFIED ADVERTS
Jason Kennedy & his ropin-cow horse "Moo"
THE END - FOR NOW...
TOP TEN SIGNS YOUR HORSE IS TOO FAT
People who don't know him criticise you for riding a horse so far into pregnancy
When he gets in the float the car's front wheels come off the ground
You have to grease the barn door frame and hold a bag of carrots on the other side to get him through
His girths are truck tie-downs tightened with a ratchet
When he was diagnosed with a flesh-eating disease, the vet gave him another 10 years to live.
On a hot day, 150 sheep lie in his shade
Driving the ute across the paddock, you swerve to go round him and run out of gas.
When he's standing in the rain, there are ducks swimming in the puddle on his backbone
You have no problem staying on him because you are trapped in his gravitational field
The only photo of him that gives a true picture is an aerial photo
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Contribute to our "Top Ten Signs" lists!
Click on the "Guest Book" and
leave one or more of your favourite signs that:
your horse is too lazy
your horse has lost all respect
your horse is too thin
your horse is too young
your horse if too old
your horse is too small for you
your horse is too big for you
your horse is too strong for you
Top ten reasons
why horses don't use computers
to take up Eventing
to give up Eventing
to take up Dressage
to give up Dressage
Top ten things your horse won't tell you
As soon as we have a good list (even if it's fewer than 10) we'll put it up here!
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