Twisted

The ever-patient ex-racehorse--as long as he's eating

I must be twisted. And not in the "off my rocker" definition, no. My body is twisted. It must be. What other reason could there be for what was causing the look Calabar kept tossing me over his left shoulder the other day as we were cantering to the left. The repeated look, actually. Repeated every time my right stirrup connected with his right "elbow." 

"Stoppit!" He said, looking irritated with every stride.

"Stop what.. oh!" I said, realizing that his aggravated looks coincided perfectly with the thunk I felt at my toe. 

My saddle is an endurance saddle, complete with wide foam-cushioned stirrups. Wide both ways--sideways and back to front. The front of the lightweight but substantially shaped piece of metal with my foot in it was what was connecting with his elbow, causing much consternation and annoyance. 

I adjusted myself and we tried again. Same result. I turned him and cantered to the right, no interference. Turned him back to the left, thunk, followed by evil eye.

"Are you on the wrong lead?" I asked. 

Bar snorted. "No, you're being lame."

I contorted myself in several ways, trying to uncurl my spine, but still clubbed him with my foot. What was I doing? 

I never did figure it out exactly, but I did put my English stirrups on to negate the likelihood of elbow interference and it has helped. Our canter to the left still needs work--it's just not as smooth and happy as it is to the right--but at least I'm not getting a look, now, so we're making steps in the right direction. 

Bar says I need to visit the chiropractor anyway. Plus sit in the hot tub and do more yoga. Who am I to object if it makes him more comfortable, right?