(“My horse ain’t right in his head for this.” )  

… Oh, wait, they do, so never mind. To rephrase that, if horses could tell us things they’ve overheard, these would probably be some of the things.

The judge to the rider after a spectacularly abysmal test, the horse extremely inverted the entire time: “Well, if there’s a flood, at least he’ll be the last one to drown!”

A spectator complaining in the office to a show manager: “Someone left the purse holder in the Porta John all wet.”

“If you’d let me ride slower I’d have more time to remember where I’m going.” (from a student who doesn’t stress).

On why the rider didn’t wear spurs with her lazy warmblood: “I used to, but I stopped when I got my new boots because I didn’t want to put marks on them.”

A thirtyish event rider replying to an apologetic concern from the clinician (and who might that have been?) that in light of the #MeToo Movement, he might have verbally overstepped his bounds: “Nonsense, I am paying good money to be harassed by you!”

From one East Texas clinic auditor to another when asked if she were bringing her horse for a dressage lesson: “Naw, my horse ain’t right in his head for this.”

Another East Texas rider informing me that perhaps she had been trotting too long in her lesson: “Ahm fixin’ ta git tarred!”

Speaking of unfit riders, me to a student, “You can walk soon. Make a transition at the far end at A.” The student, wailing, “That’s not soon!”

And from another thirty-ish eventor (said admiringly of her horse as I arrived to teach her): “You know your horse is well broke when you realize you forgot to change into your sports bra and he’ll ground tie outside the trailer while you slip in and fix things.”