By Carlyn Challgren
This article was nominated for the 2025 GMO Newsletter Awards for first person experience articles for GMOs with 75-174 members. It appeared in the Wisconsin Dressage and Combined Training Association newsletter, eQuester, June 2025.
I did it. I made it to the pinnacle of grooming: a CDI. Or, as I like to say with an English accent, “Concours de Dressage International.” So elegant. (I know that’s really a French phrase, but the 1985 movie, A Room with a View, is about a1907 Englishwoman, so work with me here.)
My sister asked me to fly to Florida to groom at her first CDI competition (which later turned into her second CDI as well). “Of course!” I then quickly looked up what CDI stood for and became quite nervous. “Now what did I get myself into?” My sister lives in Florida from mid-November to mid-April, so needless to say, my grooming skills may have been a little rusty. Ok, they were really rusty, but in my defense, I not only hadn’t been grooming since the USDF regional championships last fall, but I also arrived in Florida sicker than a dog. But…the show must go on…
First stop after arriving in Wellington: the show barn to set up. Like the movie, our stall did not have a view of a beautiful river, but unlike the movie, I was completely content with the view—it’s my job. We were in the same barn section as some of the past Swedish and American team members and the German, Dutch and Canadians were so close. It was awesome! I watched my fellow grooms and noticed the Swedish groom had the coolest broom for sweeping, the American grooms were super helpful, the Dutch had the most paraphernalia, and the Germans had some pretty cool tall, rolling tack trunks. The Canadians had small refrigerators, but they weren’t full of ice cream or beer. What’s the point of having a frig[sic]?
CDIs come with different rules and what seems to be a lot more of them, including that you can’t go into the barn area unless you have a badge. I was nervous. Lightbulb moment. Guess what? No need to be nervous because whether I’m grooming at my sister’s barn, at a local Wisconsin competition or Regionals, the horse is the same. Still four hooves, a tail, mouth…and poop. So my job really didn’t change and, for the most part, my vast grooming knowledge came back quickly: pick hooves, treat, brush, treat, braid, treat, pad and saddle, treat, bit, treat, rider on, treat, wash, treat, rinse, treat, comb tail, treat, sweep aisle, etc.
Zeza was a little spicy for the first competition, and I suggested that maybe she was hyped up on sugar, so I should cut down on the sugar cubes. “She weighs 1,200 pounds,” my sister said. “It’s not the sugar.” Good point. Keep the sugar cubes coming.
My sister did super well, considering the electric atmosphere in the international arena at the Global Dressage Festival. She made mistakes on things she can do, but I can’t imagine the pressure.
Zeza was a little hot, but she didn’t spook at anything, which some horses do in that ring with the VIP seating on two sides, with tents flapping and dishes clanking. However, Zeza decided that the awards ceremony wasn’t for her because she was ready to head back to the barn only to have to stand through not one, not two, but three national anthems. My sister said next time I have to hold on to her with a lead rope attached.
The second CDI competition began as usual, but I was much more organized, calm and ready than the first one—and I wasn’t sick. I got Zeza ready for the morning jog, and that went well. Like the first one, she passed, which means she was allowed to compete. Then I got Zeza ready for a schooling in the international right. It went amazing! Zeza was attentive, waited for her cues and was not bothered by all the other horses in and around the arena. My sister looked calm too.
The next day, we arrived early for Zeza’s morning feed and temperature check. I got her ready for an 8:30 schooling session with Janet Foy. Both looked confident and ready for the next day’s competition.
The usual groom activities following the lesson and then off to watch other competitions. When we returned it was obvious something was wrong. Zeza—normally a lover of face scratches—was lethargic. She didn’t drink water and wasn’t interested in apples or any other treats. My sister checked her temperature, and it was higher than the morning temperature check. She immediately went to the FEI veterinarian who checked Zeza thoroughly, but then called the local vet from Palm Beach Equine who was on call for the show. The on-call vet was concerned enough that we were immediately sent to an isolation stall. We had to remove all of our tack and equipment from our regular stall so it could be disinfected. This was scary because the big concern is the neurological form of the herpes virus, which is highly contagious and for which there is no vaccine. The on-call vet and his assistant got into big white haz-mat suits. Blood drawn, temperature taken, heart listened to and then the wait for test results. Wait. Wait. Wait. And worry. I was so worried because Zeza looked so pathetic, and there was nothing I could do to explain what was going on. Finally the Banamine kicked in, so Zeza started to perk up. When the wait was finally over—about three hours later—all virus tests came back negative. We were now allowed to take her off the show grounds and home. Later my sister’s vet confirmed Zeza “only” had cellulitis, and with antibiotics, aspirin and some rest, she would fully recover! I was disappointment for our second CDI experience to end the way it did, but the horses come first: Zeza and every other horse in the barns.
During these two CDIs, I did have time to watch other competitions and a few awards ceremonies. Turns out if your rider/horse team wins a certain level of competition, the groom gets a check for $500! I need to have a serious chat with my sister about her stepping up her game.
And the view? I had the best view in the barn!
