I showed up at the ranch at 5:30 a.m. to bathe and braid. Was he upset by the radical change in his routine? Nope. He shrugged his shoulders and said whatever ... oh hey! There's hay! He loaded like a champ, traveled like a champ, and unloaded like it was something he did every day.
Except we all know it wasn't Speedy, but I could not convince Izzy otherwise. He immediately started hollering and his body exploded with tension. My heart sank. But rather than get too worried, I just put him back to work. It took about five minutes and a lot of cantering, but he slowly let go of the worst of his tension. Not all of it, but his brain reengaged.
Someone later told me that a breeze picked up at that moment and the odor of cows came wafting up to the arena. There are cattle just down below. Not caring what the issue was, I kicked him no less than a half dozen times before he agreed to trot to which the judge remarked, "rider aids to be less obvious." HILARIOUS. He was rooted to the spot. If I hadn't kicked him so obviously, we'd still be standing there.
Here's the video followed by his score sheet.