“Overbent”, I can’t tell you how many times I have heard that term used. Surely if you do dressage, you know exactly what the term means, right? Or do you?

          Dictionary.com, which is quite up to date, still has not defined “overbent”. I checked and found “overbend” which is a transitive verb and means “to bend to excess”, but “overbent” or “over bent” or “over-bent”, nothing.

           I’m a rider, like I’m a golfer, but I’m no Cathy Morelli or Jack Nicholas. I’m not even able to break 90 anymore. If you’re a golfer, then you know that’s pretty sad. But boy can I give you great golf tips about how to hit the ball a mile, just before you tee up on the first hole, and give you the exact line the ball will roll on the first green, and every tee and green thereafter. I sound like Tiger Woods, and pay like Tony-The-Tiger.

          I’m opening my own dressage school and I put an ad in the Horse News International. I’m quite sure that I’ll get a lot of people who after leaving 50 other “experts”, will find my article and out of sheer frustration call me for a “lesson”.  I know enough terms like “long n’ low”, “too deep”, “more supple”, “less rein and more leg”, or “less leg and more rein”, then I’ll just mix them in with about 100 other dressage terms, and I’ll probably get away with that for about 20 lessons or so, until either the horse or rider brakes down.

           I have a background as a rider, but I wouldn’t let my wife teach me, and I can’t dance. I have no rhythm, according to Cathy, but she sets a very high standard. My standards are not so high. I look at other guys dancing at weddings, for example, especially after a few drinks, and I think I’m Fred Astaire. But back to dressage –

          I never took a dressage lesson. I got my experience in the black and blue school of hard knocks. I remember this one gelding I used to ride. He was complete for so long that, like me, he still thought he was the man he used to be. “Strong” was not the word for it. I was younger then, much younger, and I could still lift my weight in dumbbells over my head. (They don’t call them dumbbells for nothing). One day I was telling Stewart, another horse-dressage-husband, what a great workout I was getting riding this horse (whenever Cathy wasn’t around to see and to start yelling at me to stop) Oh, yes, I was telling Stewart, I don’t need to go to the gym anymore. I didn’t know that someone overheard me, and a voice said: “that’s not dressage”, from the tone I knew he was pretty appalled. Not wanting to engage someone who obviously didn’t know the first thing about working out, I moved to the other side of the room to the open bar where I could find people who were more on my level . Shortly thereafter, Cathy prohibited me from riding that horse, bought me a western saddle, a six pack, and a book on reining.

          The Frank Morelli School of Dressage will have one cardinal rule. If I can’t fix your horse, then we’ll sell him and get another one. After all why spend hundreds on lessons that are a waste of time, because you have the wrong horse, and besides, I have friends in Europe who can find the best horse in the world for a very reasonable price. (as compared to an Aston Martin).