“Our lives are made in these small hours,
these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away, but these small hours
These little wonders still remain”
– Rob Thomas
The older I get, the more I understand that song. For most of us, it’s not about big miracles and flashy pyrotechnics and wide screen extravaganzas … it’s the moments; the small, commonplace things that make our lives special and make us happy.
I went on a barn call the other day to see an older lady and her horse. He’s a 16 year old off the track Tb that she’s had since he was 5; they’d been working in dressage and had made it almost to Second level when their progress suddenly stopped. He started tossing his head, going above the bit, and wouldn’t engage his hindquarters and work through his back. Being a conscientious horsewoman, she’d had him vetted thoroughly, but aside from a few typical arthritic changes (and none that should have accounted for the issues he was having), he was as healthy as … well, as a horse. So she decided to look into saddle fit; she sent me a template and a couple photos and we made an appointment. Her horse (let’s call him Ed) was a bit of a fitting challenge – big, roofy withers, fairly short back and some upslope to the croup. He needed a saddle with either wither or full front gussets, a deeper front panel and a modest rear gusset. I loaded several likely candidates into the truck and headed for her barn.
When I arrived, I went over Ed with a fine-toothed comb. I palpated his back, asked questions about any past soundness issues, and made him lift his back. He tolerated all my poking and feeling around with good humor; this wasn’t a “Drama Llama” hyper-sensitive horse. Finally, I watched him trot out and asked his owner if I could see the saddle she was using on him.
“I’m no saddle fitter, but I don’t think it suits him,” she said as she placed a Wintec Isabell on his back. “It seems to poke him in the loins; I’ve changed the gullet a few times, but the wider gullet makes it sit on his withers, and the narrower one seems to make the pommel sit too high. It seems to me I’m working on the wrong end!”
And indeed, the rear panels were far too long and “pointy” to suit him. The tree was also the wrong shape and the panel not nearly deep enough in the front; the saddle bridged like mad, yet due to the shape of the tree and the angle of the rise, the tree came far closer to his back in the area of the stirrup bars than I was comfortable with. No wonder Ed had gone on strike. I told the owner that her instincts were absolutely correct; we removed the Wintec and started trying the saddles I’d brought.
Of the seven I’d brought, two looked worth trying – one was a pretty good fit, and one was pretty close to perfect – statically, anyway. However, static fit and active fit can be very different, so I had her saddle up and try the “pretty good” saddle.
Actively, the “pretty good” saddle was pretty disappointing. I watched Ed pin his ears, hoist his head toward the rafters and drop his back as the saddle slipped rearward, snugged down behind his big wither and threw the rider onto her crotch. So we switched to the “pretty close to perfect” saddle.
The owner mounted and Ed walked away from the mounting block. Immediately, his head went down and his back came up, his eye softened and his ears flopped off sideways. His walk grew bigger and bigger, as did his owner’s eyes. “OH. I don’t think I’ve ever felt him move like this!” she exclaimed. Then she picked up the reins. Ed immediately softened and rounded and moved into the trot when she asked. “I can’t believe the difference! It usually takes me at least ten minutes just to get him onto the bit!” After a few times around the arena each way, Ed picked up a lovely canter. “And this is his BAD direction!” his owner crowed. “He CAN canter this way!!” She was ecstatic, and Ed looked pretty darn happy, too. They did some lateral work and a few more canter transitions, and decided to keep the saddle for the week’s trial. At the end of the trial period, Ed’s owner bought the saddle, saying that he was moving and working better each ride, and thanking me for my help.
In the Grand Scheme of Things, saddle fitting isn’t of huge, earth-shattering import; in fact, it’s really sort of a small thing. But sometimes, the littlest things bring the greatest return. Finding the right saddle for Ed and his owner may not have changed the entire world, but it did make their world better. And I’m good with that.