The Horse In The Mirror

Finding balance.

2012-01-28T19:53:00.001-06:00

Energy cannot be controlled unless you have balance. A horse
cannot be balanced if he does not have a posture that takes more weight on the hindquarters and lifts the weight off the forehand. An impulsive horse may get faster and faster because he is not balanced. Being out of balance is an unpleasant feeling that leads to anxiety, and this makes him move his feet more - so immediately there is a connection from the physical to the emotional that feeds back to the physical again. ~ extract from 101 Horsemanship Exercises by Rio Barrett

One of my best friends (Colleen of the previous blog ) posted this on a chat group a few days back. I have been thinking about it ever since.

Saddling up today in the eternal search for more Derby miles and a saddle that fits Royal in which to achieve them, I decided our topic of the ride was going to be finding balance. Someone suggested that to me, in my personal life, the other day as well. Seems timely.

Note the headgear! I said that’s it, I am having one as my beanie kept threatening to fly away!

Forecast be damned, it was windy and quite chilly. I was happy to have my brand new Elmer Fudd hat (all the right folks are sporting them this year!) and my several layers of unwieldy but toasty warm winter gear. Hey, how do you lose a quick ten pounds? Get undressed when you come home from riding in January in Nebraska!

I know you have seen this one of Corie before but I love it. And, look at THAT hat!

I love the bright ears forward attitude my horse takes when we leave out the drive. Of course., there are the suspicious tilts here and there at shadows, the air conditioning compressor . . . the “holy cow what are THOSE” moments (in this case it was a couple blown over trash cans that had the audacity to wiggle when we strode by).

Nonetheless Royal seems to enjoy our excursions, and the more hours I log with him, the happier and more content we are becoming with one another. As a rule. There are exceptions.

We strike out across the beanfield, and I just want his happy feet in a straight line. I chose to head up and over instead of around, figuring letting him pull a long grade is not the worst way to warm up and maybe take off a little steam. (yeah right, ARABIAN here, 12 miles later, there was plenty of steam still with us).

Riding alone today, I look out across the distant fields, much as I did across mountaintops as a kid, picked out a spot and decided to ride to it. We cut through a bunch of fields, sometimes through freshly turned heavy soil that caused my horse to really think about where he was putting those feet. Trotted a lot, loped a lot, me mostly two pointing, and allowing him to move freely under me. Staying out of his way. That’s a huge goal.

A friend of mine is on her way to becoming a Centered Riding instructor. We have been discussing those techniques and they seem to do for the rider what the natural horsemanship stuff does for the horse. I think about these things as I ride, unlocking tension in my ankles and knees, flattening my lower back, swinging my shoulders back and forth like hinges until they stay open and down of their own accord. I feel the tension leave my neck muscles and I smile. Royal lopes happily and is still straight, little to no correction from me!

We found cool spots, a treeline between corn and soy that afforded some downed logs for jumping. Royal LOVES to jump. Point him, stay out of his way and follow him over. I think he would jump the moon if the right person were onboard.

The saddle I am riding today is the Bronco Billy roping saddle I am trying from that same friend of above quote. It sure does work for me. I am hoping it works for my horse. My only question is that generally, in saddle fit, I am told you want front and back screw sitting level. While the saddle seems to sit level on my horse, the front screws are slightly lower, indicating it may be a trifle wide on him. I used the good Teskey wool pad today and was hoping for a definitive sweat pattern. Didn’t get it. 12 miles on a cool day is not enough to pull sweat out of THAT horse!

This is with a Mayatex shock pad under it. The Teskey sat it up a little more in front. Good two fingers between pommel and saddle.

I left his face alone today. A lot. Each ride, something comes up that tells me what to do. What bubbled up out of this one was teaching Royal to find and take responsibility for himself. His gait, which needs to not change until I tell him to, his feet, which need to not be all over the place, even if he is afraid of something.

He’s not much afraid of things these days. In a few short rides, the stops and starts are almost gone. Royal does follow me emotionally, and when I spy a farm house a few hilltops away and start worrying about dogs, he is worried also. He doesn’t know it’s about the unseen maybe-dogs, and shies at a leaf, a dirt pile, what have you. Things we have been by, 10 feet past and nothing to worry about them. I, apparently, have some responsibility of my own to find, in this search for balance. My emotional stability so I don’t freak out and upset my good horse who is trying to follow my lead as best he can. . . No wonder he has trouble staying straight!

He’s bold and brave today. Just goes where I point him. We find a road and follow it. Shortly ahead is a railroad crossing. Took me FOREVER to get Ginger across one of these, first time she saw it. Took Royal about 30 seconds. I let him stretch his head down to have a good look, just as I would have told you to, and trusting him, let him pick his way across. I am ready, in case it’s a leap and skitter. It’s quiet careful footfalls. He is calm. Damn I love him.

AND THEN HE’S NOT. Up ahead on the left is a big pile of logs. Gotta be a bear, really considering the eight foot necked giraffe I am suddenly astride. What I know is concealed by the tall grass to the right of us is a section of railroad track. I am not so much afraid he will fall over it as I am thinking about the uber athletic jump he is going to take when he bolts to the side (away from the bear-logs) and they hit him in the ankles.

Suddenly, I Jose. I channel him for all I am worth (Trina Campbell “Terri, WHY would you let it DO that) and the three of us tell that horse to walk through there, straight, and in the bridle.

You know what? He does it. He is obedient to my hand and leg. Maybe for the first time ever when he is really scared, he listens to me over his fears. Now that does not mean we didn’t get some quick steps and a desire to bolt the hell out of there. But he didn’t bolt, he did stay with me. We turned and faced the scary evil log monster and the roaring wind moved some corn stalks behind it. OH DEAR GOD, he says, we are going TO DIE.

I didn’t escalate with him, (don’t get sucked into your horse’s drama, Georgia Susan), I wasn’t even tempted. We hung out a little and then left at an acceptably calm walk.

Here’s the deal. Not too long ago, I am having to breathe down my fears and concerns, to really think about relaxing so I can stay with my horse, and keep him with me. We are getting to the point where we are both coming to these things pretty darned instinctually. Might not be a big deal for anyone else on this planet, but’s it’s giant strides for us. I found myself wondering, as we plowed through a remote field, miles from anywhere, how long it would be before I would trust Riata like this . . . awhile, I thought.

On the way home, Royal gets introduced to the life of a working western horse. You think I have forgotten all about the original topic, balance. Nope, it was is the way I sat him,. the way I asked him to ride down one row, how I felt his stride lengthen and shorten, how I would ask for longer, not quicker strides . . . it happened all day long. Easier to do than to say.

This working western horse, you might ask? What’s that all about? Well, for me, it’s about a horse that stays with you in all ways and does it on a loose rein. He’s not real broke, Royal, and it takes a broke horse to attain the levels I want to be at, with him, but you gotta start somewhere.

A set of tin sheds with a loose metal piece, clanging and clattering (did I mention, it was WINDY) was an excellent opportunity to practice. He gets big, wants to leave. I deflect his forward motion, bringing his head around and allowing him to follow himself around in a small circle. At the apex of the circle his feet have to slow, as he gathers for the next half. I release as the feet slow and ride out of the circle on a loose rein.

That’s a neat piece, right there you guys. If your timing is right, you will eventually get a horse that will walk out, head down on a loose rein. If your timing is not right, you may wind him up like a clock and have to deal with that problem. I have been there, too.

It really didn’t take long, this is a very smart horse, and knock me over with a feather, we are strolling along on a long rein, his neck is low and level with that pretty western head set that I really love (having ZERO relation to the peanut pushing of some poor show horses). I have kind of forgotten about this bit in my latest fascination with dressage and English riding. Being a magpie, I collect a lot of cool pieces and it would be nice if I didn’t forget them as I go!

There are some sticky parts, where he gets wound up. Doesn’t want to give his hip around and runs out through the shoulder. Uh uh. Nope no way. I tighten up in front, use my spur and the hip comes around. Sometimes he does not pick the best footing for these arguments, but I ride him anyway. Hopefully he won’t fall down, and you know, he doesn’t. When the hip comes around, I bring the shoulder through. Again, it doesn’t take long and he’s back with me, clangy metal thing far in the distance behind us and forgotten.

When I would feel his hoofbeats speed up in a nervous way, I would give him a job to do that required him to care about where his feet landed. I would care about where his feet landed and try to stay clear and consistent in my communication with him.

Amazing how much calmer we both were on this ride as opposed to the last one. There were so many places I trusted him, allowed him to be brave and only micromanaged him when he told me he needed that. So many times he walked over culverts under us, heard the water rushing, felt the difference under his feet and was brave, not to mention the near cliff face I asked him to scramble up when we ran into a ditch barrier. Even when I almost dumped us in a bog, he put in two front feet, and as they sank out from under us, he was in the air, coming around and setting us back on solid ground. Not in a wild whirl or mad dash, just taking care of business. Being responsible. That’s what we both were, today and it was GRAND.

So, in a blog that I started out talking about searching for balance, I end up talking about responsibility. Interesting, huh?

Colleen and Terri Ride Again . . .Or . . .

2012-01-22T09:57:00.002-06:00

Are we just completely nuts??

Once upon a time in a nightmare, years ago, I lived a life without horses. The longest nine years of my life. Following a divorce (that was not why though the fact he was not a horse guy should have alerted me to some very basic differences in our general make up . . . ) I looked up and wondered what my life had been before I tried out the white picket fence dry lot.

Horses. I didn’t really know anybody in Nebraska involved with horses and went on with rebuilding the pieces that now included two small children and a much older, somewhat wiser me.

At a meeting I talked about my confusion and unhappiness, and how when things were really dark, I had always been able to reach a God of my understanding, not from a church pew (and I am not criticizing those of you who find Him there) but from the back of a horse, surrounded by the glories of creation.

Afterwards, a slender jean clad, booted woman walks up to me, long black hair swinging, dark eyes sparkling. She says to me that’s how she finds her God, as well, and lo and behold, she has a horse she’d be willing to let me ride, if I want to come out and visit.

Hell yahs, I do!!

And the adventures of Colleen and Terri begin. Those early years alone warrant a book not just a blog! I will tell some of those stories but the one I want to tell right now is about what we did yesterday.

Colleen has been working with a troubled colt she discovered on her Nebraska Long Ride (there’s a FB page, check it out) this past year, and me, well, I am up to my chin in this Derby thing.

http://distancederby.blogspot.com/

I have also been on the search to find tack appropriate for my new life as non horse trainer. Tack I don’t plan to flip for a profit, that is quality and suits my interest in riding distance whether for CTR competition or just for the fun of it. Tack that properly fits my two Mutt and Jeff horses.

I have wrapped legs around horses since I was two years old. I am now 51, subtract that nine years of pre and wedded bliss and you have a lifetime of being on a horse. Other than bareback as a kid, it’s pretty much been me on top of a treed saddle, good leather between me and my horse and usually roper in style. I got paid for my first training job when I was ten years old and I have always appreciated the feel of a saddle that would not blow apart under me if the usually green horse I was riding, did. Those things are generally heavy as hell.

Royal in Walt’s Crates saddle. Fits him beautifully, heavy as all get out

I am not whining about pitching them up, well not too much. The cowboys I study do a throw from the hip that really negates struggling with grasping the thing and hoisting it up in the air over their backs. I didn’t think I could do it and as is my way, resisted learning with mighty effort. Colleen tortured and deviled me until I gave it a try, as is her way. Throwing out my back, spending six months in therapy, I proved her wrong. Oh no, wait . . . that didn’t happen.

After a few fairly awkward and misguided tries, I learned how to loft the heavy things aboard like you are settling a hat on a head, causing nary a grunt or groan from me or my horse since . . . well, maybe from me, but I am like that, too.

Quite a few of my friends are doing the CTR thing, and they are doing it riding a variety of interesting looking saddles.

Enter the “search for the treeless” phase. I was very skeptical of these newfangled things but add to the rest of me, magpie curiosity that leads me to try just about anything shiny at least once, and I give one a go a few years back.

This is before my education with the AAHS, before more than a couple lessons with Missy and later, Jose, and my leg was stuck forward in a nasty bracey way, even on the stiffest fender. On the free swinging leather of the English style treeless, they were up around my horses’ ears, and it’s a miracle I did not tumble off, forwith. Tall horse, bad idea, I stuck but HATED that saddle, and didn’t look back.

Moonshine in the Tahoe (this picture actually looks better than I remember it going. . . maybe lucky shot. . .)

So, now I am trying treeless saddles again, had tried an English style last weekend that my only real gripe was that it did not protect me from myself, and some of my lazier riding habits were right out there, and unsupported by it’s unsympathetic self.

Royal, in the Black Forest Shasta

Yesterday, I tried a Western style model, thinking going out on much less reactive, tried and true Smore (Colleen’s Long Ride horse. Broke? After years with her and a thousand miles + under his hooves, I would guess so) I know I rode in the English one with a lot more tension on my beloved Royal, sending his skitzy loopnut self through the roof a few times, so this would be a fairer trial.

I do offer Colleen the chance to back out, as the forecast grows dimmer and less inviting, day by day.

“If you don’t want to, I understand” (thinking who in their right mind would want to, down to the 20’s for heaven’s sake!) . So that she knows I have sand and grit, I say “I am game if you are though.”

SHE says “If you want to wimp out, I understand, I only have a few days left with the colt, and I am going to ride. How cold IS it going to get?

Not THAT damn cold, mutters me. Wimp out? I don’t think so.

And so I begin my strategy of layering to survive the Arctic tundra that we are, by God and high water, going to go riding in.

Thermal shirt, hoody, vest, heavy jacket, 3 layers on face and legs, gah!

Setting the treeless on Smore, I frown. It really perches up there. The five inch padded cantle is supposed to add more protection to a horse’s back and I like the theory, but you realize, that is five more inches to get your leg over, right? In two layers and chaps.

It is setting on an expensive Equipedic pad. Again, a shiny piece of equipment that has my attention. I am not gadget mad (anymore) but I am deeply interested in the welfare of my horses and their comfort while packing me around on our sorties. Colleen used one of these on her ride, with great result and a lot of my friends are riding in them as well.

They are stiff at first, until they warm up and form to the back, I get this but man, it makes for a funny looking outfit in the mean time. Colleen and I discuss the treeless. We are neither of us crazy about the material it is made out of . . . a long way from the leather that wraps our normal gear . .. but, it’s a HECK of a lot lighter, so we will see.

It did not work out. I could go into the blow by blow of the stirrup leather that I probably buckled backwards when I raised the stirrups, I am spacially spastic that way, so the stirrup kept growing and eventually fell off.

I could go into how the damn thing rolled and wallered on my horses’ back, really encouraging me to practice my best horsemanship skills just to stay aboard.

And then, there would be the piece where we had just finished a hard lope across the coldest bean field on the planet, heavy winds blasting into our faces encouraging us reach a max speed just to not be cowgirl-cicles before reaching the other side.

Colleen says “hey, there is something wrong with your girth! Stop . . . oh man, it’s dangling under you, your saddle is not attached to your horse in any way!”

(no breast collar, no back cinch. I never leave home without them, except . . .)

We stop, she balances the thing, I dismount. In the bean field, knees stiff and complaining. After we fix this, how the hell I am going to get back on?

Turns out, the little pleathery piece that ties the offside billet had come untied. There is not much to it, seems it could have broken, just as easy, but thankfully it didn’t. My saddle bags with my twine and other fix its are far away.

Colleen leans hard on the offside stirrup and I struggle to haul myself aboard. It was not the kind of mount that would get any scores from a horsemanship judge, that’s for darned sure. The left knee at this point has zero elasticity in it, won’t launch me and I struggle to get my 150 lb right leg over that now truly hated five inch cantle.

Saddle has compressed, pad has formed, as promised. Front end sits down low over the wither, cantle perching perkily in the air causing me to ride a downhill slope that surely is straight to . . . okay enough of that.

Tiny pommel and saddle horn, I fear are in danger of being sucked into nether regions wanting no such things. I won’t be riding one of these things again, regardless who does what and how, with them.

At the beginning, I watch Colleen warm up the colt. He is untroubled, is in complete understanding of being saddled, ridden and agrees with it, in a body. That calm demeanor does not leave him all day long. It gets shook a couple of times. Roaring train, about 20 feet away, how would your seasoned horse do with that? Had Smore’s attention. That said, after a hard look (zero pyrotechnics), he cruises calmly up and down, beside the thing, coming and going, with and without the aid of his buddy. NOT FREAKING BAD.

Things flapping cause some quick steps but then, once he realizes what it’s about, it’s over, he’s done with it, the ears are pleasantly forward and he’s walking out with a long, smooth ground eating stride that would be the envy of many.

This colt had that cheerful look the whole day long!

We rode the park across from Colleen’s place, rode over concrete with painted things that most horses would really have to eyeball, he’s unconcerned. I thought this horse would be pretty brave, that first time I saw her on him a few weeks ago, and brave he is.

We rode through a very low, closely beamed pavillion thing, and he never looked sideways. I think if Colleen asks him to scramble down the sides of the Grand Canyon, those wise eyes, much older than his youth, would pick out a path and away they would go.

We did serpentines through some lovely pines. Smore was pretty disgusted with me by now, I wouldn’t let him run when Colleen and the colt loped off across a field (that was when the stirrup leather kept growing on me), my balance had to feel horrible to him, it did to me, and he was stoically accepting my presence without enthusiasm.

During the serpentines, I practiced changing reins, as Jose had taught me. Inside Leg to Outside Rein, and back again. Timing the steps to make it work as we thought about changing direction so it would happen AS we changed, not steps later and too late.

He didn’t mind that, apparently I knew some little thing after all.

The next step was loping circles in a lovely flat grassy area. My instructors in my head, as they always are (yes, it is a crowded, noisy place, most of the time), we trotted some, I got my reins correct and asked for a canter departure. Be ready before you ask your horse, says Jose (position for the transition, says the cowboys).

We bobble a few times, and then we get it and Smore rounds up under me in a really pretty way. It’s lateral work, and I am keeping his body straight on the arc and when it happens, it’s NICE. Colleen isn’t working her colt now, she’s watching and I get nervous, suddenly it’s a judge, we are testing . . . yes, I am a lunatic. No, it’s my best friend, watching me ride her horse, and I really want to do it well for her.

I am panting, damn, I am fat and out of shape. I struggle with this every single winter (and lately the other seasons too) and not riding professionally isn’t helping as I freaking hate calisthenics and the like . . . another story.

She’s smiling, and I know she liked the same parts I did. We ride on.

Trains, dogs coming shrieking out of nowhere, oh yeah . . . There is a GORGEOUS five year old tri color Aussie guy that needs a home!! He is the grand daughter’s dog, she’s off to college and they would like to rehome him. I wish I would have pulled out my phone and got a picture. He’s heavy coated, has one blue eye and is a laughing dancing lovable fellow.

The colt, who was a little unsettled with these things on his maiden voyage, (well YEAH) is almost unflappable. His curiousity is intact without being a spazz. He reminds me a little of Royal, in that the feet will patter, but but body stays in place, and once it’s done, he could not care less and is steady under his rider.

Them, at Chance Ridge. She took him places and showed him a lot of things. Really helped his mind.

On our quest for miles (now she is in it with me) we long trot, lope along, and where the heck are we going? Food . . . we always eat on our rides . . .

Burgers threatening to freeze in our gloved hands, we decide to ride on through town to the river. Now there’s a worthy goal and we get it done.

Riding by the flood ravaged shore, the landscape is painted a dry brushed tannish gray. There is a picnic pavillion, with a grill sitting askew beside it painted to match. This place looks like the setting for some futuristic post apocalyptic movie, but no, it’s here now and very real.

Deep cracks run through the ground, and we pick our way with care. Who knows where they go or if they would turn into forever good bye caverns two feet beneath the sandy surface?

The colts steps into sand, sinks a little and steps back out. Colleen dismouts (gotta love this) and walks out into it herself, to test the danger. There is none and we ride across. The colt follows her lead without hesitation. He trusts where she points him.

Across the water, in the spare, black of the trees, there are larger shapes. Eagles!!! Quite few pairs are making their homes there, and we stop, watching the majestic birds with awe.

We find a frontage road that gets us off the treacherous parts and ride down further.

We both have evening commitments, and even though I can no longer really feel the tops of my thighs, that is all that turns us around and heads us for home.

We see more dirt roads that beg us to come investigating, but that will have to wait for another day, and there will surely be a few of those . . .

Colleen says, I thought we got smarter than this, thinking of our early days of riding in any kind of weather, plowing through snow banks and what have you.

We did, I said but now we are having fun again! And so we are.

The black colt was pretty tired when we got home but we both felt he needed to experience a rider other than Colleen as his time with her is sadly soon to be at an end. They are a real pair, she and he, and I wish she could keep him.

I do some things with him, not trying to do it like she does, but wanting the colt to know that people are going to ask things of him in strange and different ways than what he is deeply comfortable with now. He gets a little trouble in his eyes as would any horse with this kind of change going on, and he looks to Colleen for salvation.

Sorry, buddy, stay with me. This is going to happen and you have got to be okay with it if you are going to make it out there in the world.

I go to a block, no way I am trying to mount from the ground with my knee totally missing in action. He very politely makes his steps to get right to come get me.

We walk off, feeling of each other, and he is surprised at the turn of events but the only way a person would know is watching the set of his ears and the slight feel of his body, wondering, under me.

He is solid and easy. I don’t want to ask too much as he’s just had a hell of a ride, but as is a habit, I gather him up a little, and we trot around. I put some pressure on him to hold the gait through the turns. I just want to see how he handles unexpected pressure from someone he doesn’t know from adam. He just responds and gives.

I am in love. SMOOTH riding, solid from head to toe, he is true to his pleasure breeding. I cast my mind for a fleeting moment to my Riata . . . I could sell her and ride this . . . NO. I am committed to my sweet girl, and whoever he belongs to, it isn’t me.

Helluva nice ride, Colleen has done a spectacular job settling that worried mind, attaching his feet solidly to the reins and building a trust that is setting that colt up for a very bright future. If some human messes this up for him, they will have the very horse gods to reckon with, as this is a good one.

Pitching her Bronco Billy roping saddle into the back of my car to see if Royal likes it as much as I do, I am full circle, back to whence I came. Things may work for others just fine, or work for me that doesn’t for them. I am back to the quality leather, the feel of a real saddle that won’t blow apart, just in case my horse does.

And so ends that particular chapter of that particular adventure. Today is supposed to be entirely crappy, weather wise, and I promised my husband I would stay home and hang out, as is our Sunday ritual. It is decidedly NOT crappy at the time of this writing, and I am wondering if I can get to the barn and back before he even gets out of the bed. Should have started sooner!

The Great Distance Derby of 2012

2012-01-07T19:07:00.001-06:00

Some of you already know about this, heck you are logging miles as I type! For the rest, TGDD is the brainchild of a couple of friends of mine who stole it from I am not sure where. I am sitting here, fresh from logging a day’s miles, still wearing my dusty chaps and boots because I am too excited to take them off before I write this all down.

The Derby itself is a year long endeavor to log our miles and see who comes out at the end with the most. One of those friends broke her 100 mile mark TODAY and we only got started on the first! Prolly not gonna catch her . . . LOL!

Christine and Bling

Here’s what’s developing so far. We are getting inspired to ride on days when most normal people would stay put at home. Two of my buddies came out with me last Saturday and we bundled so thick it’s a wonder we could even mount our horses.

Thank goodness Corie brought her mounting block or I might still be hopping around out there!

We logged 10 miles in some biting January wind, and I would have kept going through Jess’s bitter “whatever, Terri’s” when I suggested we ride “just one more leg up the road, see what’s there . . .” except she turned her horse around and threatened to leave me to ride on home. That would have been a smidge more miles than I was up for and I couldn’t really feel my cheeks anymore, so home we went.

That really is Jess in there somewhere!

Royal and I had a what I would call a strong “medium” ride that day. His normal big free swinging walk was missing in action, and we lagged behind, often trotting to catch up to the others. I was scowling, thinking of Ginger’s 4.5 walk stride and grumpy at Royal’s pushing for 3.5. . .

Corie on her heart horse, Zip and me on mine.

We made up for that, today, let me tell you. He met cattle, was terrified. Okay, that kind of strong reaction often morphs into “lemme at ‘em” once a horse figures out they can chase the woolly boogers . . . Didn’t have time to get all the way through his concern but was pleased they only drew a hard look on the way back instead of a hard bound! Royal is like that . . . he freaks out, gets over it, doesn’t look back.

Today, I started out saddling Junebug, the Quarter Pony. I have been meaning to get some good time and miles on her, ever since I moved my horses down there and I have been on her a few times. taught her a couple things and really, not done much at all. She’s strong jawed and it’s going to take a little to get her softened up the way I like them, and as with all of them. I am unfond of riding them in the beginning. The Derby inspired me today to take her off down the road and see what we could see.

Royal has made zero solo journeys in his entire life, except maybe once at the ranch, that first year. I wanted to explore the roads and fields and was none too sure my ride with him would not be me arguing to get him 30 feet past the drive way. Turned out completely opposite of that, but who would know?

Junie gets ridden sporadically, not just by me. but NO ONE asks her to leave the yard or at best, the pasture. We headed up and headed out and the battle was on, the first three miles. By then, I had found the bean field across the road provides some wonderful riding and takes me up to town where I want to cross the busy highway without having to step foot on the equally busy and far to fast county road.

Five miles into the ride, I liked her. She looked askance here and there, and she expressed her concern over how far she was getting from home by stepping slower and . . . slower . . . and slower. I brought a crop for just in case and it patted a little rhythm on her chubby pony butt till she saw the error of her ways.

We made 7.03 miles! Not bad for her maiden voyage!

So fat, she is that I had to be very careful to stay dead in the middle of her or the saddle would tilt and roll! A few more days like this and we will see a different Junebug!

Now, it’s Royal’s turn. I had carried some anxiety about taking him out by ourselves, but Junebug beat the worry out of me and I was relaxed in spite of myself. A little groundwork (no buck today as he first picked up his canter . . . good sign!) and I step on from the mounting block (knee WAY too stiff by now to bend that high!) and we head off down the drive.

I am prepared for spooks. balks and resistance as he realizes no one is coming with us. What I get are beautiful curly ears pricked forward as he eagerly scans the horizon. Where we goin’ Ter?Do we have to go so SLOW?

Well, no Royal, we don’t! Once into the bean field, we pick up a rising trot. I am still on guard for those sudden darts and spooks, but really there was not so much of that.

I rode this willing, forward lovely horse today. He is the dream horse I gave Ginger a new zip code in order to own. This ride, all by itself, was worth the trade. We played foxhunter up the terraces, extending his baby doll lope just to the edge of his excitement level, and held it there. We encountered a herd of strange horses that ran, bucked, jumped and played a field away from us. If that were not enough, they are accompanied by a mini pony, a donkey and LLAMAS. Big ears, big eyes, what the heck are those and we are back on our way.

6.73 miles for Royal. We will do more tomorrow!

We ride by town but I leave crossing the highway for another day. The sun was threatening to set and vehicles were turning on their headlights. We toured the field three different times and routes, I was mostly looking to get the 3 miles I needed to complete my goal of 10 for the day. On the last round, we were just having too much fun, so we headed up the county road, south, this time, to see what might lie that way . . .

A barking dog, not worth much energy, a log beside the road that was, and I put him into the heavy soil of the nearby cornfield to let some of that exuberance wear itself out a little. Different colored piles of dirt were pretty scary and worth some starts and stops, a few jolting enough to make me grateful for how easy he is to pull up at the end of them. On the way back, he traveled over the top of them.

I also just acquired knowledge of Royal’s real name and breeding. Heavily Crabbet bred, I could not ask for better than that.

Bey Shazhon is Royal’s sire!!

His momma though . . . A National Show horse. Yes, my Royal is 1/4 American Saddlebred, making him a NSH as well. Not my favorite cross, I know of a couple I like and well . . . he is still him, the love of my equine life, and rides like this one . .. cresting the top of a rise on a horse that wants nothing more than to eat more miles with me . . . well, it does not get much better than this, except wait, it will and in a large part, thanks to the inspiration of the Great Distance Derby of 2012! Ride on, my friends, ride on!

http://distancederby.blogspot.com/

A Day Of Lessons

2011-12-31T12:32:00.003-06:00

Getting ready to head out yesterday, I layered up good. The promised high of 50-something was not looking likely. No matter, it’s unseasonably warm for our part of the world and I have young horses calling my name (even though they are probably quite blissfully unaware of that particular fact . . .)

Climbing into my new to me 97 Grand Prix, I smile wryly to myself. It’s fire engine red, a cop magnet if ever there were one. I quickly scope out the cruise control features. How I came to own this particular car could be a blog all of itself but that would divert us from the important subject: horses! Still, it makes for an enjoyable, affordable ride over the 25 miles between here, and there.

Seeing Royal throw up his head, point his ears at me and amble over to the gate is probably not going to lose it’s thrill for me for the length of our lives together. Having my dream horse live in my pen, against what were some really crazy odds . . . it’s a bright spot in my life and I savor the feeling of it, against the dark days that will creep in as a necessary part of life as I know it.

I catch them all, as is my habit, not-as-wary Riata (good way to start) fat, fat Junebug (holy cow, she needs a diet and a JOB) and even old Jewel, the mostly retired 28 year old boarder horse. Standing tied is a good job for a horse, and they all get their turn when I am around.

Grooming is taking on a different aspect for me. My friend, Charlie, who owns Shady Lanes Ranch in Council Bluffs, has the highest grooming standards for getting a horse’s back clean of anyone I have ever known. Saddling for him is an aerobic exercise the equal of any gym master’s routine! Since I have Competitive Trail Riding on my nearer horizon, I am working to implement habits in my daily routine that will serve me well, once I attempt the sport. Grooming is a huge part of that, and I am notorious for knocking the mud off the saddle-y parts and rock and roll. This will not do. With Charlie’s rumbly voice in my head (it was a crowded place yesterday), he was the first of my instructors to show up and start issuing commands only I could hear. “Get ‘em clean! No, not like that, I mean CLEAN!”

Saddling Riata, I am workman about my business but paying close attention to her reactions, how she shifts her weight, rolls her eye, flicks an ear and takes a sudden breath. All these things tell me what she is thinking about what is happening to her. She is one sensitive filly and I have to be careful not to let her train me to be afraid to do anything around her for fear of upsetting her. Turned out, to get where we needed to go, she had to get upset. And learn from it, and move on.

Doing my groundwork, I still don’t have that long level topline from Riata. Her head is up, muscles bunched in neck and hip, she looks like a carousel horse. Not as good. Her eye is not as big but it’s still not soft, not quiet. She has troubles in there. I work at getting her to stretch and relax, so that all four corners of her reach equally. it’s almost there. Almost, by the way, is NOT there at all.

Later, as Riata is pitching pyrotechniques, rearing up and pitching herself away from me, I am so very much missing Corie and her camera for the action shots . . . the before’s, and we are going to have some after’s, too, doggone it!

Another whole blog might be around what I have discovered (yes, discovered) my habit of quitting. It’s old and it’s deep. If something is very hard, it’s pretty easy for me to walk away and find something more rewarding for my time (in my perception.) Riata was for sale about 50 times yesterday, with all the rationalizations behind it that would make sense to any casual onlooker. (Colleen that is NOT you).

One horse would be so much more affordable . . . I only have a certain amount of time, why not put it into Royal, my dream horse . . . and so on. Not to mention, I am too young to die, just yet!

I put the long line on her halter as Riata would get worried, escalate, blow up and pull away from me on the 12 foot line. This got very routine for her. Uh no. We are not going in this direction either. If I were being paid to ride her, I would work it out so I am going to pretend that’s what is going on here. I am going to work it out.

On the long line, she is surprised to find out she cannot escape and she goes back to work.

We get to a place I think we can quit and I leave her on a post to soak. I have a frown between my eyes, I am not getting through to her and I don’t know why.

It’s the spotted horse’s turn. Ground work for him is a preflight check. Do we have all parts moving equally on both sides? (Buck)Check. Back you in a circle?(Peter) He doesn’t see the point but is starting to understand that sometimes, with me, you have to work. Actually, Royal, in your new life with me, you will always have to work. It’s still just news to you.

I am a little concerned getting on him. The last two rides have not been easy at all, and I want to get this horse in a different direction than what it seems we are heading, also. Once again, he stands like a rock to be mounted, wow, is this really not a fluke? He gets it? Stands on a loose rein and waits for me. Nice.

We are going to work circles out in the pasture. The importance of a good, soft, fluid circle at all three gaits is another blog, all of it’s own. Suffice to say here, it was a job for us to do, to give us focus and take my mind off my jitters.

I will tell you, when I am nervous, I cannot ride for shit. Pardon the language but it’s the total truth. Jose’s voice “I want to see your neck, please. Put your shoulders down please. Do NOT look down, PLEASE!” Colleen, talking about the importance of rhythm and relaxation to prepare a horse for the more advanced maneuvers. Matt McLaughlin, helping me with poor unfortunate Hawkeye, and the difference some simple exercises made in a horse that had never learned to carry himself properly . . .

We are at a walk, Gretchen in my head reporting how keeping the frontal plane straight improved so much for her. I do that, and my horse ceases to wander around the field. We have a circle.

‘No pony ‘leeping!” Jose again. I sigh, ask for a better walk. Royal jigs, bounces his rebellious head against the bit (yes, I am back to the snaffle. We may revisit the halter issues but it was not the day for it, for me) I tighten my fingers in response, and he bumps my hands impatiently, asking for release. Nope. You release to me, big boy, I tell him. Find it. You know where the softness is . . . I will help a horse that is just learning to give to the bit, releasing to them at the slightest try to encourage and build confidence in them. This horse, whoever started him so nicely taught him that. He is ready for bigger boy lessons.

I ask him for some bend, using my inside leg back to encourage the hip to come up under. Missy Fladland taught me to shift my weight to the outside seat bone (rail) to prepare a horse to make a turn by bringing the hip under and pushing from behind.

As my instructors instructed and I focused on riding, my skitzy loopnut young gelding stopped glancing to the mares back at the barn. The jigging disappeared, the neck bowed gracefully and the reins were on a soft light contact of his choosing. Brenda Messick is in my head too, with the Centered Riding techniques she is learning and being really gracious about sharing on her yahoo chat list. As I work on me, my horse improves.

We trotted circles, once that felt good, we went back to the walk and did the figure eight exercise Matt taught me, counterbending through the center and releasing into beautiful, perfect arcs (yeah, well that’s the goal and it DID happen when I set him up right, not so much some others . . . ) to circle back the other way.

I forget who all has been after me to lope every ride. I kinda didn’t want to. What if he bucks? Dang it, Terri, COME ON! Just freaking ride your horse, already! I sigh some more, loosen those shoulders, once again up around my ears, and gather him up. Royal lengthens his trot stride in anticipation. No, buddy, that’s not what I want, we don’t transition (prepare for the transition, oh yeah) from a pounding trot.

He’s nicely collected, I put my outside leg back and tentatively ask for a canter (Jose in my head NO NO NO! Ask for what you want, and GET it! Your horse must know you mean it!). Deep breath. Okay. I put my leg back, and tell Royal with my weight and hands, canter.

Gorgeous baby doll rocking horse canter. I forget this horse really has had some very decent education somewhere in his life. We lose it, as I fall apart in my happiness (sorry Jose) and pick it back up again. Focus.

Both directions, so dang pretty! I am really missing Corie now! I would love to have some shots of him working like that . . . I will keep them in mind for the days we don’t get it as good as there will probably be some.

All the good stuff with Royal happened under saddle. Here is the new trick I taught him, or maybe just a lucky shot as he was rolling the sweat off

Back to Riata. She looks better, hasn’t been flinching away from me for awhile now. I think I am going to ride her just for a few minutes and then head for home.

Do the preliminary groundwork to loosen her up from standing. I am thinking, again, most people watching would think she was fine. She wasn’t. There was trouble in her eyes, a refusal to see me out of the right one nearly at all, and tension in her body.

I get her to look at me out of both eyes. Get both ears. This is old stuff for me but somehow I tend to forget anything I used to know when I learn a new thing . . .

Standing in the stirrups, I let my toe touch her side. She is still cinchy, and she grunts and tightens. I am up and down a few times. Move the stirrup on the off side. Again, I think a lot of people would have said, Terri just throw your leg over and get ON!

This time, the voice in my head that said to wait was right. There was no one home at the house and taking a dicey ride when all by yourself is just poor judgment. Stepping down, I held the stirrup in my hand and let it drop against her side. Riata just stood for stirrup slaps and all that not five minutes earlier.

She blows like a steam cannon. Head down, all fours off the ground, hair pin bow in the middle of her back. She bucks so hard she grunts with effort and she really gets after it. I let go of the mecate line but I keep her moving until she quits bucking and darting around like a damn wild mustang. She faces up, front legs wide spread,nostrils flared red, ready to head for high country. Get on with you then, I said, and she had to move again. We don’t have a round pen, just the paddock at the barn and I keep her away from the tied horses so we don’t have a wreck.

It’s not good until she comes to me. When she starts hunting me, I release and walk away from her. First time, in ages, she comes with me. Now the head is down, in a different way. A change . . .

Halter goes back on, long line attached and we go to work. She tries to pull away and run out, but I don’t let her. I keep her moving until she can. You reach the brain through the feet and by the time we called it quits, she was loping both ways in a decent manner. It seems to me we should be past this, but this is where we are.

Now. Riata is licking and chewing. Her head lowers as I lower mine. I stretch my neck and invite her to follow me into relaxation. It takes some tries but then she does. She backs softly at the lightest ask, comes forward without fear. She walks cooling circles with the topline I have been searching out for weeks.

I rub and rub that sweaty head and for the first time since things have soured with her, she twitches her lips with pleasure at my touch.

It was a big day for lessons from my good instructors, even though not a single one was there in their body, they were all there in my mind. Riata is not for sale, and Royal rides like a horse that might know something. I have deep appreciation for the incredible teachers I have had the honor to ride with. It was a really good day.

Wet saddle blanket day for Ri.

On The Way To True Blue

2011-12-18T10:24:00.002-06:00

You have to get past the chartreuse green. That takes savvy (not just miles, but those too), wet saddle blankets, courage and perserverance. I know these things, have encouraged many others along this path and started at least my fair share of young horses on their journey. Now, it’s my turn.

Over the years, I have always made sure I have at least one broke horse on the grounds. My “go to”, whether it be a for sale horse, or one that I was calling mine for awhile, there was always something to pony from, throw a leg over for a relaxing ride when I didn’t want to have to be on the top of my game every single second I was on board. Yesterday was a day when I could have used one of those good ole True Blues.

Instead, I have . . . babies. One is six, but he is still a baby in his brain, and experience level. Royal and I have had a very strange relationship. As my car parking horse, our priority was to get people parked in a timely manner and on the way to their hayrack rides. It was not the time to work out “issues.” Many a moment passed that I let Royal get away with this shenanigan or that one, refusal to do “whatever” or the occasional fit he would throw just to entertain himself when he was bored. I thought, son, there might come a day when we revisit these attitudes of yours and start filling in the blanks for you. The horse cannot be blamed for the holes in his foundation and education.

Now, I own him. He has a new job. It’s called “putting your feet where Terri asked you to, and no other places.” Might be a harder gig for him, at first, than that other. The rules have changed. I understand it’s my responsibility to not be a jerk about that. Still, they have changed.

My other young horse, Riata, the three year old, has her doubts about our situation. She voted with her feet to leave me, twice, yesterday, at a headlong gallop away from me in a bullet straight line. That is my report card for where we are at, in our relationship. Again, there is no blaming the horse here. They are honest creatures and they tell you what they are thinking.

We talk an awful lot about horse whispering, but it’s pretty much never the horses’ whispering that we are referring to . . . Yesterday, I was thinking hard about what kinds of tones of voices my horses have to use to get through to me . . . Can I hear them before they have to escalate the message? Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

Last week, when I started with Riata, I took a lot of time to relax her body. Her mind is very turned off to me. Hurts, as this was a horse that used to come to my call and follow me around the pen. Now, she barely wants to look at me. Did I do anything grossly wrong? Not to my way of thinking, but I am not the one that gets to cast the vote for her, as much as I would like to.

Before I saddled her, I played ground games. I pointed at a join in the fence and asked her to put her nose on it. This is very different than asking a horse to put it’s nose on something it’s afraid of, I don’t like that methodology at all. This particular game is done from the end of the rope and requires the person to fine tune their signals to the horse, and for the horse to engage and really pay attention. Pressure, release. Hot, cold. Ri would put her nose BY whatever I asked her to, she would not touch a darned thing. Royal, when we played the game, instantly stuck his nose to the object and would look at me brightly “what’s next? This is boring!” Different horses. One as bright as the other but not wanting much to play with me.

By the end of last Saturday, Ri was as warm to me as she had been in a long time. She saddled without bucking or undue tension. Did beautiful “falling leaf” (hip over, shoulder through, as I call it) patterns, and I put her up on what I thought was a very, very good note.

It was the magickal kind of day horse people own horses to have, full of soft eyes, willing feet, and strides gained.

Yesterday, I was not in the same mental condition as I was, last week. Some of the worldly stresses were hanging heavy on my shoulders and I Just. Wanted. To. Ride.

Saddling Royal, I wanted to put the snaffle bit back in his mouth. I know it bugs his wolf teeth, but I also know I have ridden him many hours in it and got along. What I did NOT want to do was deal with the issue of him not wanting to give to the pressure of the halter . . . A very important piece of having a broke horse. He doesn’t want to give to bit pressure either, by the way, so it’s appropriate we roll back and start where it begins . . . Fine.

Buddy sour. Not really broke enough that when the chips are down and it’s his will versus mine, that I have a lot of confidence he won’t just blow through the roof and demand his way. That challenge hung in the balance for us several times yesterday, just circumventing the 5 acre pasture while the mares cried for him at the barn. I could hear Ray Hunt, admonishing a student to stay just this side of trouble and worked hard to not let my fear make me become aggressive to my horse, and dive us headlong over the other side of that fine line. Occasionally, I was stern, I won’t let fear cause me to allow misbehavior either. It’s a tight rope, sometimes and feels about as comfortable.

Thank goodness the nature of the horse is to follow a leader. Royal argues, but when those chips did come down, he accepted my leadership without any real pyrotechniques and it all worked out.

Oh yeah . . . we worked last week on his unwillingness to stand quietly to be mounted. I didn’t think we’d made any real progress there, though he did stand for me, just didn’t feel that “ahhh” that I sometimes get from a horse that receives the lesson. Well, we might have argued about a dozen different things yesterday,but darned if he didn’t stand like a rock and wait to be asked before moving off. . . baby steps, but steps indeed!

Got annoyed with him bracing against the noseband of the halter when I asked for reverse. He backs up with a broken poll and a soft jaw, off the bit, this should be no different. I know better than to engage in a pulling match with 100o lbs of resentful horse. In the barn I go and I return with the dressage whip. We back circles from the ground. A light tap, here and there, when he’d spin out his hip and refuse to take straight steps, or when he’d raise that pretty head and brace those feet . . . and soon it was liquid steps wherever I asked. Hmm, note to self, that good firm, kind leadership you want to teach people? Still applies.

I had already unsaddled but I wanted this from his back as well. To the mounting block we go and I jump on his bare back. Let’s just say he is no more a snot bareback than he is saddled. And, four fluid steps backwards, and I called it a day.

Looked at Riata. I had worked through her jumping in the air and blowing away from me across the pasture (damn, I am missing having a round pen! Gotta work with what you have though), had ponied her off of Royal, and while he was a butthead, she was steady eddy through that whole thing. The lot was deeply muddy but it was time to ride. My friend, Colleen, mentioned the other day she’d rode a colt in kind of poor footing, because it was time to ride and that’s what she does. She had a though that it being a little slick might make him be a little more careful about the stunts he pulled. I liked that idea.

Riata has become kind of explosive in her objections and I took some care about getting on. I picked up and dropped the stirrups, slapped them against her sides while asking her to move (they will stand still for it, and then katy bar the door if things change while they are in motion, that’s an important piece, you guys.) Anyway, she passed all my little tests with flying colors. Get on, Terri.

I still don’t like this part, getting up on a horse I am not sure what the ride will be. Guess I probably never will. I got up and down, I think she mostly wanted me to quit screwing around and get settled. So, I did. Sat there quite awhile, and Ri waited patiently for me to ask her to do something.

We toddled around the lot by the barn. I am riding her in a rope halter as well. It’s not as rough as it is with Royal but she doesn’t come off the pressure perfectly either. I start all my colts in halters and I don’t put a bit in their mouths until they understand this. How my two got so far down the path without me realizing we had to go back to this, I do not know. It’s another VERY important piece. They either give to pressure or they don’t. There is no such thing as “sometimes.” What “sometimes” means is that they are always doing what they want to do, it just happens to coincide with what you want to do, on occasion and when it does not, you will part ways.

It was not a glowy, feel good kind of day. It was the kind of day you have to get through when you have young horses that only know what they know. It’s not their job to head for the library and study their lessons. It’s mine. Whether or not I put the gaps in their education does not matter in the least. What matters is that I fill them, so that they can each rise to the tremendous potential that each of them possess, and maybe, so do I.

Back to Basics

2011-11-24T09:22:00.002-06:00

In my search for all good things horse I sometimes find myself wandering a bit far afield. How do I know? Things start to go inexplicably wrong. At first I have no idea why. Then, when I go back to my first teacher, the horse, I get my answers. If I am open and paying attention, they will always tell me what is troubling them.

Subject at hand right now is my lovely grulla filly, Riata. Brief history, I bought her at a sale last March on the rebound from what I thought was losing Royal. I picked up a horse that seemed gentle, good minded and had a striking color. The thought behind the purchase was that this was one I could mess with a little, and if she didn't trip my trigger, her color alone assured that I would not lose my money and she was in the bank in case Royal did somehow manage to come back onto my horizon.

Day one, she was cautious and wary, but allowed me to catch her, do a little groundwork and I called it good. Day two, I could barely so much as put a hand on her before she spun and tore wildly away. Day three, I build a little pen in the arena that was her temporary home, thinking to lure her in with hay and then do the round pen work I do to help horses learn to face up, hook up and allow themselves caught. She follows me in, no luring involved, and in fairly short order, I have hands on, and she is sinking her head into my arms and we are having a moment . . .

Busy with my Spring book, she goes where all my horses go, straight to the back burner. I pull her off to ride a day with Kerry Kuhn when Purina brings him to town. I know the filly rides, walk, trot and canter but I don't see what happens before what I saw happen. She was jumpy and goosey enough, I thought, maybe something . . . We get through the gooseyness at the clinic with a TON of sacking from me in the beginning. She gets gentle, accepting and I ride her all day. End up on cloud nine. We both know what we want from each other and it looks like a wonderful partinership is in the making except . . .

back to back burner she goes. Then, I move my horses this summer and she promptly gouges a hole in her side and is laid up for almost two months. Riata gets handled every day with wound cleaning and again, she is gentle, accepting, friendly and trusting.

So, why the purpose of this blog? Because something happened. I am still not real sure what. I rode her in Peter Campbell's clinic as I blogged before and we ran into trouble there. She had learned really well to not be bothered by things flying around her, and had also got pretty stuck and lazy about her responses. The cowboys want their horses to MOVE when they are told, and I do too, so we really got after it. I want to make clear I am not blaming Peter for our problems. It is solely in me, my timing, my not being in sync with my horse. I was hard on her, at times, looking for that amped up response, and if I had been where she was, I could have cued her in a way that she understood. I don't think that happened. From what she tells me, there is no way. Riata is confused . . . when to stay, when to go, and what happens if she messes up? Now we have sullen and withdrawn or goosey and ready to blow. Great.

Riata came home from the clinic not wanting much to do with any of us. Walt who is my old business partner, made mention of what a changed attitude she had and not in any good way. She was sullen, did not want touched, flinched and ran away when she was reached for. She had started bucking when saddled the week before the clinic. Total mystery to me, who prides myself on being able to read my horses, and proceed at their pace to get where I want to go with them in an efficient, timely manner.

Saddle fit is an issue. I have had to use a much tighter cinch, front and back to keep the saddle from flipping up in back and ending up on her neck. Not just this saddle, but a bunch of them. In this process, Ri has become very girthy, and last night, I notice several things, one of which is a healing cinch area from the ride last week. Reaction to the neoprene? Fungus? Dunno. After me not being there for almost two weeks, she is gentler and friendlier than she was last time I saw her and rode her around the lake. She approaches me but as I step towards her, the head comes up and the eye widens. I slow down. AND THEN THE LIGHTS BELLS AND WHISTLES GO OFF IN MY HEAD. I need to slow the f*ck down. Pardon the language or don't but that's the case. I have been in a hurry with this filly almost every time I have handled her. I have not sought the relaxed attitude, the gentle trust, that is the first thing I do with each and every one of my training horses. That is not established through hugs and pets, but through exercises in which there is release at the right moment and only enough pressure to get the job done. Yes, what Peter said. I didn't learn that there, but I did forget it, some. This does not mean poke around, pussyfooting so as not to upset my horse. This means REALLY reading her and going at her pace. I can ask for more but I have to aware and not blow through thresholds on the way to some place I think we should be. This is kindergarten stuff for me, but sometimes I think I am way smarter than I actually turn out to be.

I do some walking work with her, getting Riata to stretch and reach equally with all quarters. A tense horse really cannot reach under themselves and allow this to happen. There is a cause and effect of relaxing the body, relaxing the mind, relaxing the mind, relaxing the body. As her stride loosened up, her eye remained soft and dark, calm, unconcerned, I knew I was back on the right track with this pretty young horse.

Sometimes, wanting my horse friends and peers to approve of me and what I am doing gets the best of me. I want a spectacular riding horse that shows off the very best of what I can do. Yes, that is ego talking and it is not the best friend of the horse, or me or anyone. I am back to wanting the natural level headset of the horse that is carrying themselves correctly, that is totally at ease and comfortable with what I am asking. For me, it starts slower and builds up. I am no fan of the sour, ears laid back, stoney eyed look I see on horses that are tuned out and turned off, and I was putting that very look on Riata, every time I handled her. Done with that. Sorry, Ri.

Sometimes Things Work Out

2011-11-05T18:58:00.003-05:00

Many of you are well aware (some TOO aware, LOL) of the saga of myself and a six year old spotted Arabian gelding. No, Arabians do not come with spots, he's got some Paint in there, too, making those striking tobiano markings but he's mostly Arab. That is sometimes far too apparent!

I don't know what it is that happens when a person like me falls this hard for a horse. One. Particular. Horse. I am kind of like that, though. Fell for my husband the same way. Dunno. Anyway, I have been in love with this goofy horse since I laid eyes on him, and even though it sounds odd and maybe even a little sappy, he's got something going for me too.

We have been through hell and high water, but it looks like finally things are working out for a retired horse trainer and a young, high spirited gelding that thinks pretty much all the time and any time is play time.

When I haltered him up today, I breathed deep into his dusty neck, letting all the love and the "you finally belong to me, kid" energy I was feeling flow into him. I can't say he felt and understood all that, but he dropped his head and we had a . . . well, it was a snuggle moment and that's about all you can call it.

My friend, Kara Mehaffy was on her way over, we were riding the trails at the ranch today. I drove the wrong vehicle, leaving the one at home that had my saddle and gear stowed in it, so was borrowing a ranch saddle and hoping she'd have an extra bridle.

Royal and I had the best day. He was mellow and easy going. We rode all over the place and then went down to the indoor arena and played on the jumps and used the ground poles as sidepass obstacles. Another friend of mine had made a comment about him not respecting my leg and I thought, now that you do belong to me, we will be fixing that shortwith. Not by "harpooning" (thanks for that phrase, Peter!) with my spur, but by using the correct aid at the correct time with the correct amount of pressure to get the job done. We worked on sidepassing, and had to break it down, first hip, then shoulder then both. Then, worked on bringing the hip over to make a corner . . . We are going to a HAUNTED Trail Challenge tomorrow (money will exchange hands if I stay on, all day, I have no doubt. They think I am pure crazy, back at the ranch) and we practiced a few things to make as good a showing as we possibly can. We got real decent at communicating with one another. Maybe you can imagine my joy as I ask him for a step, one step, not three or half a dozen, and he takes that step and waits for his next instruction. We are not at all what we are going to be but we have made a heck of a fine start. Our relationship will become ever more subtle and refined, and we will venture into many things, Trail Challenges . . . Dressage . . . Competitive Trail Riding, and you know, even though Riata is the Quarter Horse, we will have to introduce Royal to cattle, as well. We will trail ride and camp with our friends and hit the occasional friendly Cap City horse show. There is so much in store for us!

Kara and I had such great days with our sweet young geldings. Her horse is a little younger than mine, but has also had a couple of years off in the middle. We are having a lot of fun, introducing them to things, polishing and working on what they know. I have discovered Royal loves to jump (and not just when he is spooking sideways!). We loped some decent circles or circle-ish patterns around the jump standards, and when we were out of sync about where we were going, it was surely comical, but when we were together . . . completely magickal.

Royal has an issue about being mounted. I have even had people hold his head as I didn't have time to work through the issue before we had to go do our jobs. I never do that, but it's what we had to do. Today, we went to the mounting block. Five minutes later, he is standing quietly, reins down on his neck while I mount. I won't go into the detail of what I did to help him with that, but there are exercises. It didn't take much'a nuthin' because he trusts me and I hold that trust as a very fragile, perishable precious thing.

We blew through a jump, toward the end, and I got down to straighten and set things right. I left Royal's reins looped around the saddle horn and walked away. Indoor arena, where could he go? His neck relaxed and level, he never took those soft eyes off me as I walked around, putting back to rights the different ground poles and whatnot we had messed with during our playtime. Kara even rode away, taking his buddy to the other side of the arena to see if he would move. He looked at them, a little alarmed, but his feet did not stray. My throat got tight, and I got a little misty as I walked back to him, greeting him with soft touches and thanking him for being my willing partner in this deal.

We aren't looking to win anything tomorrow at the Trail Challenge. Going strictly for fun and an opportunity to get my lovely boy out and about. Traveling with Kara and SenSay, a pair I think we are going to have just a ton of fun with in days ahead.

I am on cloud nine tonight. It's been a long road, and there have been lots of not-easy parts, but as a lot of people have said, this horse and I need each other. We have gifts for one another and I am so darned happy we are going to get to make this work out. Things do not always work out, not for horses or people. But, sometimes, they do.

Riding With Peter Campbell

2011-10-03T18:08:00.002-05:00

At some point the journey into real horsemanship becomes very private, very personal and very intense. There are moments leading into it upon which a person is challenged to look at themselves, to observe what is in them that comes out in the presence of the horse. For a long time, people blame the horse. Some people never get past that.

Awhile ago, it was told to me "Terri, it is not the horse. It is NEVER the horse." I choked on that pretty hard, and sometimes I still do. It is in the nature of the horse to do what they think is right for them, at any given moment, whether it's saving their own lives, responding to hard wired instincts, or trying to do whatever it is THEY think we are asking of them. It is up to us to take responsibility for the communication AND the result we get from it.

I have stood with my nose pressed up against the glass at a lot of clinics for a lot of years. Peter Campbell, Buck Brannaman and some others. It's excrutiating to audit when all you want to be is in there, soaking it up. The ass chewing, the very occasional praise, the certain look you get when you get something, and the guy teaching it knows you got it. But more . . . the levels under the levels that you know. The ones you know are there, but have no idea how to access on your own or you already would have got that done.

In light of all this, I rode with Peter this weekend, carving time and money out of a life that has zero excess of either. Eternal thanks to my husband, without his support, it could never have taken place, Colleen Hamer for her undying suppor, thanks to the many friends who loaned me saddles to try in my desperate search to find something to put on that short backed, round bellied little gal of mine, thanks to the Musils who once again loaned me the trusty stock trailer so I could get her towed around. It took a village!

I am not going to do a blow by blow. I don't understand enough of what I have learned to make it make sense to someone else, and it might not matter even if I did. The things I felt, learned, pushed through, am still licking and chewing over, are all part of that journey I am on, to understand the horse and work as a better partner for them. You might have completely different things in store and my details could get in the way of you learning yours.

As far as techniques, Peter is a master at watching a horse, rider combo and seeing where the horse is at and where it needs to come forward from. The trick is getting the rider onboard with the scenario. Riata has not had a lot of riding. Trina Campbell assisted me with saddle fitting and her take was that my own saddle worked the best if I cinched it down, front and back. Lesson One for Terri. Take the advice you ask for, even if it stretches your paradigms of what you normally do . . . If what I normally do was perfect, I sure don't need to be at a clinic . . . Saddle worked great, even sweat patterns, moving along . . .

I had a concern that not being a regular rider at Peter's clinics, and only being able to attend for two of the four days might put me on the back burner. Could hardly blame the guy. We had folks there from several states away . . . surely they deserved more attention than half timer me. Not even so. Saturday morning, we do groundwork, falling leaf some call it, hip over, shoulder through, some else. Smooth is the goal. I was jumpy, nervous and fairly unhandy, but I got the call to put on my bridle and mount up.

Peter starts with us. Filly is stuck, he says, won't move her front end, at all. And she wouldn't either. Next thing we discover is that in my desire to not have her jump out from under me (so much of my horsemanship has been based out of fear.) I have desensitized her to stimulation to the point it doesn't mean anything to her. Could not hardly work her with the flag at all. Peter gets a Gatorade bottle, puts some rocks in it to shake at her to get some life in her feet. I am terrified. I am sure she is going to come out of her coma with wild leaps, bounds and bucking worthy of any PRCA bronc. What I did not know yet was Peter's feel and sense of timing was not going to cause that or allow that to take place.

Up and down the arena we go. Bend her! As the hip comes through, change your hand to bring the shoulder around. Again! Again! Every great once in awhile, I would get my timing in line with his, and Riata would come through. Then, she would get stuck, I would lose my process and we would be in a tangle. We were sweaty, panting messes but I could feel Peter putting on pressure and then backing off at just the right moment. I trusted him. Riata improved but she was sully and confused. His timing is impeccable. Mine, especially under circumstances where I really want to ride well but am scared half to death (old fears, not about what was really happening, that is important to know) is not. We got through, made changes, went to breathe.

We did other things that morning. Of course we did, but that was the pivotal part for me. The trotting along the arena fence in the company of other horses was not the least bit frightening for either of us, we had gone through a storm together and come out the other side. We did bringing the hip a quarter turn over to face the fence, shoulder around 1/4, 3/4 or whatever and it did not always go horrible. Filly was willing and felt good under me. I was glad she was there.

The next day, after a lot of other things, Peter tells a story about a super nice guy. A horse trainer, gives his horses lots of time, is very patient and slow with them. Gets bucked off. A lot. Because when he starts to go and ask his horses to really do something for him, they don't know how to move their feet. They have never had to and they get stuck, and blow up. I heard that story. My horses will move their feet.

No substitute for riding, Peter says. I am the queen of groundwork (more fear) and now I agree with Peter. Not that in any way, shape or form a person should get on a horse they are terrified of or one that they think is going to get them in trouble, but get the groundwork out of the way, learn what to do to make it right to ride, and ride. Yep, I get that.

Don't go through something bad to try to get to something good. Will never happen. That ties right along in here. I got bucked off Pedro last year, climbing up on a tight, resentful colt. I saw what I saw, and got on anyway. Got off again, pretty darned quick and not how I ever mean to. Never too late to stop, get it right and then go forward.

Peter also made mention, late in the day yesterday, after teaching us how to introduce our horses to a reining manuever called a spin, that it never looks good to see someone whirling a horse around, dragging on the reins and spurring to try to get that done. I am nodding away, yeah, no, it never looks good, when suddenly I remember myself the day before, frustrated with Riata, and trying like hell to get the stuck shoulder out of the ground and moving. Oh . . . he never put any of us on the spot saying YOU DID THIS, OR YOU DID THAT but he didn't say much without having a reason to say it, either. That was a good way to learn, and I am going to remember the method, should I find myself teaching again . . .

Trying to find the awareness of the right time to ask a foot to hurry . . . when to put on pressure, when to hang back and let the horse figure something out . . . fix it up and wait . . . truly getting the feet attached to the reins means not cheating with leg pressure. Damn.

Day two had a real hard moment or two, too. We all worked on setting the horse's feet correctly, so it could properly turn itself around in a balanced and proper fashion. I had trouble with this and half the time I found myself unable to even SEE her back feet, much less be aware of which was moving when.

We mounted up and Trina came around to help. I know Riata is spooky about being approached by strangers. As Trina approached, she skittered away. "STOP her, Terri! Now, why would you go and let her do that?" Trina is looking at me, puzzled. I choke up, fear and tears welling up. Oh NO, not the emotional moment! I don't want it! But, the fear had completely overwhelmed me for a moment. I didn't do anything because I was frozen up there and could not think my way through it. When I did come to, and pull her up, Riata was easy to stop and bring around. I was WAY more troubled than she was.

With Trina's support, she's no huggie kissy pet you on the head kind of gal, but a strong and stalwart aide that I would follow just about anywhere . . . we got through that. The HORSE was not nearly as troubled as I was . . . when I calmed, she dropped her head and let down. Trina stayed by us for quite awhile and then went on.

When it was my turn to go up and work individually with Peter, he had little patience with pussy footing around. Ri didn't want his horse to come up beside her, and I was not much good at getting that to happen. Peter takes her snaffle ring and with Tango, his gelding's help, tries to move us back and around. Ri wallers to the side, and locks up. Suddenly I feel her canting over. I gulp, look up at Peter thinking, damn, we are going to flop right over!

"Should I be doing anything right now, to help, Peter?" I asked, I am sure my voice was small and quavering. "No," he says firmly. "Just sit there, I value my life too much for that!" I kind of had to laugh, and then the moment was over, she gave, her hind released and while her shoulder didn't come through with smooth beauty and grace, we got a change.

Name of the game, right? Get the change, the smallest change, the slightest try. Be savvy enough to see it and recognize it when it happens. Another challenge.

Again, more things happen that day, Riata is freeing up, I am freeing up and we are doing not horrible. I am really wishing I could ride another session. I feel us on the verge of something wonderful and I am not at all sure I can get there on my own. Not as well as I can with Peter, that is for damn sure. I make the decision to ride the afternoon session. No way I can take a day off work in light of all else, and this seems to be the compromise.

Trina and Peter gave me their blessing. The afternoon session is for the grown ups and I was not sure either Ri or I could keep up, but I thought maybe. They thought definitely. Day before, they broke out the cattle and the possibility it could happen again was very inviting!

This event was held at 3V Stables, over by Ashland NE, and I have to take a moment to give Greg and Cindy Vosler their propers here. Really incredible hosts, it seemed they did everything in their power to make sure their guests were accomodated and felt welcome. Nice job, guys! Including renting us the roping steers.

We were visited by a photographer who is temporarily in the Omaha area, working on some really neat projects involving equestrian and cowboy photography. I had heard about Steadman Uhlich and he was on my facebook page. Steadman was invited to take some shots of the clinic, and we spent time Sunday afternoon doing a photo shoot, which of course, turned into more things with which to work on with our horses. Steadman's work is art of a high form. If you Facebook, check him out. I have a feeling more than a few of us will be ordering portraits. Not pretty posed, in your Sunday best stuff, but gritty in the heat of it action . . . and then . . . we did some others :-)

We had many laughs as the girls let down their hair for some lovely traveling past shots . . . Had to keep our horses headed straight (many people have no idea how difficult and important that is!) while we looked handsomely into the horizon. Can't wait to see the finished results. I even loped Riata even though Peter was over there, calling 911 into his microphone. He was laughing too, and I think he was proud of me that I had a little more . . . gumption . . . than he might have thought. I knew I could lope her, that's easy with her. We had come through so much in such a short time, her legs were becoming mine, we were becoming partners and neither of us were the least bit afraid.

We worked the cattle too. Peter had us do a cool game that involved forming straight lines, stopping when the steer did and rolling back over our hocks when the steer changed direction. Some of us (me, prolly) got a little rammy and Peter had to say one too many times that it was not a competition and that we needed to be smooth with our horses, not "harpoon them in the sides with our spurs, nor accost them with our reins." We lost the steer. But! Not before Riata had a chance to get up close and personal, follow him around, and even block him a time or two. He did outrun us a couple of times, too, when instead of being the tail of the line as I intended, we changed directions and were in front. Got told to not set my horse up for failure and make a loser out of her. Put her in the middle for support where she belongs. Absolutely right.

Trina became our steer and as we worked on rolling back over the hocks (jeez, I could NOT get my cues together from the left, coming back to the right!!) the stop got really nice, collected stops, rocking back on the hind. When the stop improves, the go improves. Suddenly, I am able to shift laterally into some pretty sidepass . . . Things we didn't work on but didn't need to, as helping all that other get freed up allowed Riata to follow me wherever I asked her to go. And, of course, I did not know when to quit.

"She already did good for you and good is not good enough??!" I hear from across the arena. Oh yes. Good is definitely good enough. I just need to learn to see it when it happens and know when to quit but not to give up.

I am still getting lightbulbs as I think about the weekend and the things that Peter said. Particularly when he said them more than once, like they might be important. Start where the horse is. Don't try to FIX him. Fix up what you want to happen and help him figure it out. If you are constantly telling your horse what to do, you are not getting your point across and he's going to get sick to death of you. Don't get into an argument, have a discussion. Make your point, be clear and leave it alone.

That alone was worth the price of admission and there was so much more. May, Archie MO. Next stop for us.

Long time, no blog!

2011-07-16T21:06:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine said she just deleted her blog because she won't keep up with it and she hates blogs like that. Ooops, gasp, that's me! Not on purpose though. These past few months I have been without much in the way of computer access. My beloved ancient desktop has bitten the dust for the final time and I have been forcing a cranky reluctant android phone to meet and greet my internet needs. It hates long emails and frequently deletes them midway out of arbitrary pique. Pretty sure blogging is beyond it. Tonight I am at my husband's shop, hijacking his laptop. Happier days await, as at home sits a fabulous brand new Dell pc . . . all came in one box. SOOOO sweet! Now I just have to break down and get a real internet connection at home again . . . so much for my experiment in wireless!

In a nutshell, since Expo, this year started out very much a repeat of last year. I brought in training horses, one at a time, at my friend, Corie's place as they were gracious enough to allow me to do. Frankly, while the weather remained chilly, it wasn't that hard to get my hours in. Then came the rain and more rain after that. Guess we are all pretty aware of the amount of rain this year. Then came the heat.

Seeing the writing on the wall, I got a job. Well, kind of. I went back to work temping which is as close to committed indoor daily slavery as this gypsy tends to want to be . . .

Instead of going through my OMG I am going to quit horse training angst as I have, year after year, I simply quit horse training. I sent a client home, that I will bring back in Fall to finish out when hopefully the heat waves and monsoons have gone their way. I have turned down more business since than I normally solicit for. I am turning away lesson clients, except for a 4-h group down in Lincoln. I have watched a lot of those kids grow up into fine horsepeople and to get an opportunity to participate in their growth and development. . . well it's more a favor and an honor to me than anything I am doing for them.

I am quitting at the top of my game. Spirit, the gray mare, featured in the photos (she was my demo horse at Expo too) has a finer ride than I ever thought possible to put on a 30 day horse. She was broke when we started, yes, but had years of not carrying herself properly that resulted in strung out, spine jarring, disconnected gaits, and while her attitude was always pretty sweet, she was the last to be picked to ride, because, well heck, it was painful! It isn't anymore. Reviewing my photos (again, thanks Corie, you are making memories for me into the days when I forget who I am and just enjoy the pictures of all the pretty horses), I see she is still heavily on the forehand, and I have some hours left to work on that.

Now, I want to put some ride on MY horses. Throwing Ginger into the Extreme Cowboy Race was kinda embarrassing to me and sure was not at all fair to her. My horses are the shoemaker's kids, they get the leftovers from my time, attention, and certainly my attitude is not at it's best, when I saddle one of them at the end of what is usually a long and trying day. I dream of continuing to study horsemanship. I am delighted that the movie "Buck" (go see it. even if you don't like movies, go see this one) is being so widely and well received. Colleen and I can tell you we knew about him before the Horse Whisperer made him so very cool. She's ridden with him while I have hung over the fence, but I have studied his videos, and him, and tried to bring that smooth philosophy of quietly making the horse feel safe and happy about working with you into every ride.

The dressage lessons I took with Missy Fladland in years past, and Jose's mix of dressage and jumping lessons put some pieces together for me as to how to help a horse really carry themselves the way they ought to, with a rider's weight. The AAHS clinic taught me how very important it is how I carry myself in the saddle and that a poor rider can never make a good horse.

Since the 40 hour work week thing and what an adjustment THAT has been (could go into a whole another blog about the changes in corporate America since my last sortie almost 8 years ago, but I'll spare you guys. You probably know, already, anyway), I am grabbing my rides when I can. I have ridden out a few times with the new Platte River Riders Southeast division, getting to make some new friends, and see some new to me trails. Took Ginger and doggie Axel camping at Rock Creek Station a couple of weekends ago. Storms Friday night (have you ever tried to sleep with a tent insisting on lying down flat upon you? not as good! the dog wanted to go home in the worst way!), and an attack of killer ticks on Saturday night ensured just about zero sleep for the entire weekend, but we rode anyway and had a great time!

There are some beautiful trails at Rock Creek. First day we rode out, we didn't find but one of them. We spent the next very intense 3 hours and a whole 7 miles climbing man from snowy river style in and out of ravines, thinking WOW, we have not ever heard of Rock Creek's EXTREME trail series! That's because they don't have one of those. We were lost and following cattle and deer trails . . . hella lot of fun, made some real horses out of some greenies, and some real riders out of folks who weren't sure they could do all that. The next day's ride was very lovely, kinda soothing, except for that whole going down the canyon thing. I highly recommend Rock Creek as a destination camp and ride spot; you won't regret it!

Riata, the grulla filly I picked up kinda on a mad whim (Royal rebound) is turning out to very possibly be the love of my horsey life. Took her to the Kerry Kuhn clinic, as I had mentioned I was going to. He had some very nice colt starting creds and I knew I didn't want to spend a hundred hours dinking around before I got back on her. She's gone from whirling away from me on day two of owning her, to sinking her head in my arms on day three. We went through zero to 60 colt starting prep at the clinic. I'd said I wanted to be on, and he said we'd probably get there. When it looked good and she was ready (with a little encouragement from him "got to get on her some time Terri, no time like the present!") I mounted up. She rode off with aplomb and handled herself all day long like I wouldn't even have dared to dream. She's been that way ever since. Hurt right now, on a damn pesky gate pin, I can't wait for her to heal up so we can get on with our journey together.

And that's pretty much me, in more or less of a nutshell. Continuing to write for Saddle Up NE magazine when I can, and there is a book coming off the back burner now that I have a trustworthy device upon which to get it writ. Stay tuned!

My Nebraska Horse Expo Experience

2011-03-14T19:00:00.007-05:00

With a clap of thunder and the roar of the crowd . . . oh no, wait, it didn't start or end that way, and there never was any thunder unless you count hooves, if you do, there was plenty of that, quite a bit of roaring crowds too. Did start early Thursday morning, heading down to help my friend, Brenda Messick set up her tack booth. Even without enough coffee in me, I think I was more help than harm and I fell totally in love with the two year old granddaughter, Mackenzie. Can't wait for baby Stella to be of an age to talk and run about, like that!

Corie brought the horses and we settled her gray Quarter Horse mare, Spirit that I was using in my demo's, and my Ginger into their stalls. Spirit is a true easy going foundation bred QH bred mare, and took it all in stride without much ado, as she continued to do, the entire weekend.

Ginger came off the trailer, eyes, ears and nostrils became huge and they stayed THAT way most of the weekend too. I have used Ginger for all kinds of jobs but none of them required her to walk into huge metal buildings full of horses and people! Even empty, like it was on Thursday, boggled her mare mind and she could not even guess what would be in store for her.

Last year, I was honored to be asked to come do some demonstrations in the round pen. It was the largest venue I have ever worked in, and I was nervous to the point of tears from anticipation. It all went well enough, I learned from the experience and when I was allowed to come back, again, this year, I accepted with happy joy. I decided to talk about how to soften a horse into the bridle. One of my pet peeves on a horse is to pick up a rein, and have the horse either defensively brace against me or ignore me, altogether.

Another is when I watch people on horses with bits that neither one knows how to operate. As a long time horse seller, tack changes are one of the big things people get into trouble with when they buy a horse. For whatever reason, when things go awry, one of the first things people want to do is run down to the local tack store and buy themselves a new bit that will fix all the trouble. Only problem, is bits don't cause or fix troubles, it's the hands behind them.

Somewhere on my rather lengthy peevey list (geez I am a crabby old broad at this stage of my life!) is watching or riding horses that flop along with their noses stuck out in front of them, their backs hollow and their hindquarters stinging along behind, struggling to keep up. I equally detest seeing the movement of some of today's so called pleasure horses that move in gimpy, head down, weight on the forehand, cobbly floppy rear end fashion.

So, the demo emerges. Part One: Introductory Exercises to Soften Your Horse into the Bridle. I use a snaffle bit bridle, always, for these exercises, employed Spirit to show how ground work sets up the riding part, and explained how a snaffle bit is designed to work laterally, and all that kind of thing.

Part Two: On Saturday, I drug out a bunch of bridles equipped with bits I really like and talked about the different action of curb or leverage bits, as opposed to snaffle bits. I forgot my beloved Myler snaffle that I start colts in and the hated Tom Thumb that I won't even allow in a headstall. Talked about when to transition and how all bits speak a language, and one of you better know what it is, or it will not work out real well. I was going to use Ginger for this, as well as Spirit, as she bridles up pretty nice in a leverage bit. However, Ginger had a bad case of Expo fever and was bug eyed, bellering and excited. I was irritated with her behavior and knew I probably would not be practicing my very best horsemanship with her, so left her stand in the capable hands of my loving husband who took the day off to make the trip and support his wife in her insanity.

What insanity, you might ask? Well, gentle reader, just you hang on. More to come.

Anyway, back to the demo. I look up and the stands are FULL of people. There are people standing around the edges, there are so many people. Gulp! Holy cow! Okay fine. I hit the ground running and talked about bits. People asked questions and it was a fun and interested crowd. Too cool!

Now for the insanity. A few weeks ago, we became aware that this year's headliner, Craig Cameron was going to host his famous Extreme Cowboy Race. I thought that was pretty nifty, not really my kind of event, but fun and a good draw for the Expo. While on the phone with a friend, who said, heck yah, I am riding in that, aren't you? the insanity took seed and grew into a full on nut filled flower.

I called Tammy Vasa, in charge of it all, and before I could change my mind back, paid my fee. Now the sick nervousness of last year came back, full force. I TEACH trail obstacle clinics, yes, I have ridden a few Trail Challenges, some of them even timed. Never have I asked Ginger to do anything that was not slow and deliberate, allowing her time to study, assess and think things through. Once that mare has seen a thing, decided it's okay, she can do it with one hoof tied up behind her back. The first time you ask, answer is almost always, nope, no way, ain't gonna. Does not bode well for a race type situation.

We practiced, a couple times at Chance Ridge (one of my favorite places in life), jumped a few jumps, decided we would not die in the attempt, and I asked her for a flying lead change for the first time ever. She caught it, but I figured, in the race, I would go the safe way, and break down to simples, just to be safe. We have only worked on lead changes about 25 minutes in an arena setting, and that does not really prepare a horse much for any kind of anything.

During our walk through, Mr. Cameron admonishes us sternly that this "ain't no trail class. If I see you lollygagging around, I am going to whistle you out. These folks came here to see some SPEED." Well hell. So much for my game plan of being slow and deliberate at the obstacles, and then trying to pick up a little on the in betweens. We are going to go fast.

Here's a side note: Never EVER change your game plan at the last minute. It will not work out. Never sacrifice your horsemanship principles for an event. The people who placed, except for the guy who won it with a show stopping fabulous ride on an incredible Paint reining horse, were slow and deliberate in the obstacles and picked up their time, between. They rode well and deserved their wins.

I had a great time, and Ginger and I did go faster than we ever have before, and, while I will change some things when we do this again, we went in with what we knew, did the best we could and survived to tell the tale. She refused to go anywhere near a barrel that had rope on it, to drag a log, and afterthought says I could have got off, grabbed the rope and salvaged some points, and she refused the bridge. The bridge. Yep. First time she saw that particular bridge in that particular place. Again, I could have jumped off, led her through, went back and we'd have loped it, again, making up ground. I didn't know you could dismount, but people did. I got pushy with my spurs, and upset her at the bridge, and that's the biggest thing I would change. It's not what I teach, and I am not proud I pushed on her like that.

The scariest thing we did was jump some big ass metal, (yes, freaking metal, for heaven's sake!!) barrels. Ginger said, I don't think plus size girls have to do that kind of thing. It was not the tense worried resistance I felt at the bridge, and I popped her on the butt with my mecate. Oh! She says, you mean it! Well, okay, then, and up and over we went. Not graceful, not pretty, and thank the watching gods I didn't fall off on the other side.

The coolest thing we did was on the second loop of the figure eight, I asked her for a flying lead change and she nailed it cold. Thank you Ginger. I heard the surprise in Cameron's voice "She got that lead change!" and I thought something quick and uncomplimentary. I don't think he liked draft crosses in his race much, and he didn't care for my snaffle bit bridle, but whatever. I was not his largest fan prior to this weekend, and I saw nothing from him, from his clinics to his people skills that improved my opinion at all. I am thoroughly grateful for all of the good teachers I have had and will continue to have that teach me to know that difference between who I want to learn from and who I do not.

We had great competitors in this competition. Vanessa Butterfield, 13 years old, made it into the top ten with her speed horse, holey head Buck, who we all thought might just fly around and trash the whole place. She handled him beautifully, and they were magnificent together.

Dana was there with her mustang, Gypsy Boone. They also rode and did well.

I had friends from my Horsetale group that gave Craig all the speed he could ever want to see and rode to the best of their abilities.

Colleen, we missed you and Smore. You would have been a heck of a threat. As fate would have it, the friend who inspired me to ride scratched her horse due to colic. He's doing okay now, and that's the most important thing, but DARN it!!

It was a super great time, and I absolutely will seek out opportunities to do this again.

Back to the not insane part of of Expo 2011.

Sunday was very very quiet. I think the economy took it's toll on Expo attendance and the people who really wanted to be there but were watching pennies showed up on Saturday. I tacked up for my third demo, Self Carriage vs Forced Headset, and the only person in the stand was the young lady manning the round pen that had to be there. Okay, says me, I'm a'gonna do the whole show, anyway.

I had Ginger. We had repaired our relationship Saturday evening in the warm up pen, prior to the race and I was in love with my husband's mare again. I knew she could demonstrate self carriage nicely, she comes by it mostly naturally anyway. One of the things I touched on Friday was how conformation can help or hurt a horse, but they can all collect, can all learn to drive from behind, round and supple up. Ginger is one of those that does not have to work hard for it, and is a smooth sweet ride from the get go. Normally, she loves to round up, drop her head and jog around. Wull . . . we ran fast the night before. Fast for us, that is, and I think she liked it. I spent most of my demo, talking from the saddle, doing the softening and suppling exercises I showed about on Friday, with a little bit more advanced stuff thrown in as Ginger knows shoulder in, out, haunches in and out, she counter bends nicely, and we got in some pretty nice movement before it was all over.

I looked up from time to time, and people slowly trickled in. Someone, up on top of the stands, even videotaped me. That about made my millenium, that someone I don't even know, thought my information was cool enough to want to take home. Yay.

While I was not super impressed with our headliner, I got to see some people more than worth the time to sit and pay attention to . . . Van Hargis returned, and he's even better than he was two years ago. Super nice guy, too. A fellow named Monte Bruce did some reining horse stuff and since I bought a Quarter Horse (I think, she's grade so who knows) instead of an Arabian, I am intrigued that western way again. I LOVED his demo's. I also loved the credit he gave to his gorgeous bay filly on Saturday. "This is a real talented filly, " he tells us, "and she is going to make me look good." She did, too, finishing up the demo with some flat, fast sweet spins that make me swoon with envy. The next day, he brought out a greener filly (and good for him, that he didn't just ride on around on the finished horse he also brought and show us how cool he way) that was not all that interested in the lead changes he wanted to teach her. We got to see what happens when what you want to happen doesn't happen, and that's what I want to learn, in the first place. Then, he showed us grand tempi's on his finished horse, a knock out roan, and, again, I am swooning.

I got to meet the legendary Jimmie Munroe, a barrel racer who's been world champion a few times over, I believe, and she and her husband started the Cowgirl Hall Of Fame. She's the real deal, and you'd never know it from her sweet friendly way of dealing with people. I wish I'd seen more of her stuff, and I hope she comes back.

Saw so many friends, I can't possibly list them without leaving out someone important, and you guys, your support for my insanity, and my demo's is worth more than you will ever know. Made some new friends, too, and I hope those relationships continue to grow and grow! Talked to a couple of people about possible barn situations, and who knows what direction all that will take. Kind of enjoying the lower pressure of riding one at a time, and I signed up with a temp service to pay the bills.

Walking through the aisles, killing time before my Sunday demo, I stop dead in my tracks. There in a stall before me is the spitting image of the Arabian mare I had on trial that did not work out. She was unbelievably lovely, and here is her twin, only in 15 year old gelding clothes. I talked to his owner, he's bred almost exactly like the mare, so I wonder if there is a connection. Anyway, in the course of conversation, she asks if I would ride him in the arena for her, as they are short a rider. I am sometimes a couple posts short of a full corral, and I say, well, sure (I mean, 15, he's broke, right?) and I didn't stop to wonder WHY we were riding in the arena in the first place.

Turns out, it was for their breed demo, in the big arena. Big guy, probably all of 15.2 or maybe 3, does turn out to be broke, though he is in a leverage bit that he wants to brace on, sigh, and we go do our turn. I felt a huge pang of sadness for the mare I sent back and wished . . . well, it is what it is and there is a new horse in my pen now.

Picked up a coming three year old grulla filly at the sale a few weeks ago. All I know about her is that she rides, as I watched her do that all day long. I will play with her this week and then I signed us up to ride with Kerry Kuhn on Saturday. My days of standing with my nose pressed up against the glass at these clinics are over. I'm going to ride!!

Thanks so much to the Nebraska Horse Expo for putting on an amazing show. There is no way, in the course of this one blog that I can remember to say everything I want in any kind of economical fashion and my husband's delicious dinner is growing cold on the stove.

Keeping the Dream Alive

2011-02-09T08:51:00.009-06:00

is the title to my next article for Saddle Up Nebraska. It's going to center on trainers, how to chose from the many available, and that sort of thing. As I started to think about getting that written, I thought about the topic as it has applied to me, this year in particular. Moving back to Omaha has been a good move for us, even though there have been spots that have raised my hair and shed my tears. There has been a lot more turmoil, sacrifice, downsizing and stress than I had anticipated, but much like an onion shedding it's skin (which canNOT be pleasant for the onion!) my husband and I are closer to the meat and heart of who we are and what we truly want out of life.

I have gone from a large herd of personal horses, whose expenses regularly outweighed my income spilling red ink all over the balance sheet of my business. There was not one bit of it, easy, reducing from 12 horses, all of which were selected for a reason and much loved, down to one single, solitary rather snot-filled mare. It wasn't easy, realizing that we had bitten off more than we could chew with the sweet duplex we had moved into, down here in O town. Certainly not easy realizing that finding a rental property that would accept four dogs was going to be next to impossible and we had to find a home for one of our beloved pets.

As a person watches things fall away that they think matters above all else, you must examine what is the core of what makes things work and what makes it worth climbing out of bed, day after day. It comes down to a roof over one's head, even if it's a spare room in the house of friends. Good friends, that never lose faith in your ability to overcome. Family, my son, daughter, new son in law and baby granddaughter, filling a huge void in my heart that's been empty for a long time. A spouse that I have said more than once, I would rather be anywhere with, than anywhere without and am blessed to have on this journey.

And horses. For me, they are as necessary to my soul's well being as breathing. This is essentially a blog on horse training, but the title of it is "horse in the mirror." That springs from a poem about the guy that matters most, when all is said and done, is the one that stares back at you, each morning, and you better be able to meet her eyes after a good night's sleep or something needs adjustment. I have let go of horse after horse, praying and hoping they will do okay in the world and trusting the Powers Greater Than Myself to watch over them, as I have trusted Them to watch over my own life. I have surrendered up the idea of keeping my business alive, brushed up my cobwebbed resume and sent it out, fully willing to do what I need to do to cover my end in our new, much smaller and lovely home.

I moved my horses in yet one more less than peaceful parting of the ways, examining as I have been well educated to do, what my part in the discord has been, what errors I have committed and what I need to do to not repeat past mistakes in the days that come. I am keeping my horses at the home of a friend, and the "do not mix business with pleasure" echoes in my brain. I must do what I must do to not injure this friendship, and guard it well, as life is short, and the good friends that come along must be cherished and not spent cheaply.

There's room for one training horse at a time, and as my destiny unfolds, I see two paths. One has me happily riding my one paying trainee that covers the cost of board, working part time, continuing to write for Saddle Up Nebraska magazine, and maybe even striking further out into the world of being published. That leaves me time to ride my own horses, for once, a luxury I have never had, even though I spend my days filling a saddle of one kind or another. It's not a bad way to go.

The other option is to find another barn, this one with proper facilities and willingness to home a trainer. Indoor arena, private digs for the training horses, proper places to tie and saddle. Those are my requirements, and they are non negotiable. On my part, I will set regular hours and finish my riding tasks in a prompt and timely manner. Pretty much all of my clients will tell you I am very good at what I do, just takes too damn long to get it done!! I have written out the first part of my lesson program, and will take that to the next professional level. This will be a full time endeavor, and I will have to schedule in time for my two horses (yes, I said TWO, even though at this writing, there's only one in the pen . . .) and be as professional about caring for my own needs as I am those of my clients. This is also not a bad way to go.

The last dream on the horizon that is coming to fruition is in my search for a personal horse. The lessons I have taken over the past few years have inspired a deep love for the dressage discipline, and even as I can see it benefits horses of all body types, I want one now with a certain kind of movement, free, loose and swinging, that I can go on with and see where this takes us. Many of my friends are dabbling in Competitive Trail Riding, endurance riding for those of us with a little age and desire to survive the ride, LOL! I still love to chase cows, trail ride, might want to jump something now and again, and whatever else might catch my eye from my view from the saddle. A long time Arabian fan who passed up many a nice Arab as they do not have the marketability here in the midwest as do the western stock types (and from that bottom line, I tried not to stray to0 far afield) I am bringing home my very own Arabian. This breed is highly versatile, they are hard wired to want to get along with people, and I have said many times, on the right side, you have a friend for life, get on the wrong side of an Arabian and you are in trouble! I don't plan to get on the wrong side, LOL!

Keeping the dream alive has required more flexibility out of me than the yoga I have taken up, and that's saying something. Recognizing that family, loved ones, and quality of the journey are key to happiness, those would seem simple lessons but sometimes ones I have to go back and have a redo . . . Being true to myself, above all else, allowing others full freedom to make their own choices for their own lives, and understanding and recognizing those choices may not be right for me, and at the end of the day, I have to look full on at the horse in the mirror and be sure that horse is looking back, both ears, both eyes, that, my friends, is the deal in a nutshell.

Working WITH the Horse

2010-11-06T05:42:00.002-05:00

Dusk was falling as Royal, the young tobiano Pinto/Arabian I have been riding, nervously bobbled his head against the reins, much like a big fish tests the bait right before he strikes. Sure enough, that Arab head starts flying around in what I call the "crazy 8's", I keep my fingers loose and sensitive (thanks, Jose) tightening as he goes away, responding and releasing when he comes back into view. Power gathers in the hindquarters and Royal prepares to leave. He pushes off into a sideways jump, again I remember to breathe, stay loose and go with him, rather than fighting him to a standstill. I don't just let him carry me off, no way, but I have learned that even 1000 lbs (as opposed to a bigger horse) of frustrated energy can turn into a real problem if my answer is SHUT IT DOWN and do it NOW.

We sail past some unwary guests at the ranch. "Look out, folks," I grunt, as I attempt to control the leaps to not carry us into their midst. He's losing steam now, not as committed to leaving as I am to staying.

I thank my teachers this summer, Brenda M, Brenda H, and Jose, all who have given me invaluable tips and training to get me the closest to a velcro seat that I have had, yet. I thank all the horses I have ridden that have helped me practice. With a little finesse, I bring my horse back under control and go back to doing my job, parking cars for the hayrack rides at Shady Lanes.

Yesterday, teaching a clinic, I watch the big dark bay Thoroughbred mare nervously circle around me. The last two passes as she's come by, that big shoulder of hers said in no uncertain terms I should get the heck out of her way, and maybe even be done with this foolishness of trying to tell her what she should be doing, where and at what speed. Silly human! A snap of the lead rope, reprimanding her rudeness, sends her screaming back out, you hit me! I will amp up! How about THAT for a response??!!

Well, it's not the one I was looking for, so I kept trying. Took half the day, and another venue to find the quiet mind I knew could be in there, 'cause there's one in every horse I have ever seen, even the ones that couldn't hang on to it long enough. This horse can. I had to find a different way to let her figure out things and try the answers she wanted to present until she could listen to me and try some of mine.

A guy named Dennis Reis who is a hand I admire did a tour a couple of years ago called the "No Dust" tour. I really like that concept. Good horse training looks kind of like paint drying to those that don't care much about this kind of thing, and while it might raise some dust, it's as little as possible for as short a time as possible. At least, that's the way I choose to interpret that.

Another guy who I haven't had the opportunity to meet or observe yet, Mark Rashid, has written a series a books that are very high on my recommended reading list. The last one of his I have read "Horsemanship Through Life" discusses, among a LOT of other worthwhile topics, three principles he learned from his childhood mentor.

Work WITH the horse, not against him.

Listen to what the horse is trying to say to you.

Use your own mind.

Those principles have struck deep chords within me. None of them are strange ideas to me, it's just apparently time for me to examine them once again, peel off the layers of what I think I know, and discover what's next in this journey with horses, and life, and loved ones.

Good horsemanship (again, from Mark's book) doesn't start at the barn. It's the mental attitude I carry with me, my ability to clarify and focus thought, prioritize where my attention is going to be given. It's my commitment to give 100% to whatever I am doing, while I am doing it, rather than woolgather, and think of a half a dozen other things, instead of paying full attention right where my hands happen to be, right this very minute. I used to call that multi-tasking, now I am not so sure, as I don't seem to get too many multi a task accomplished while I am doing it!

How can I ride the horse that shows up if I can't pay attention enough to see who it is, don't have the awareness or perhaps even the ability to read what the horse is telling me? How do I stay on if my will to ride fails in the middle? Both of the times I came off my colt this summer, that is exactly what happened. My will to ride failed in the middle.

I have heard from more than one good teacher, do what you need to do to get things right before you get on, once you are there, be committed to staying there. I have to use my own mind to figure out what works for me, where my timing needs to be, when it's safe for me to ride and when it is not. I can teach my ideas and techniques to others, but it is absolutely up to them (you) to take it home, work with it and make it yours. I can't give you 35 years experience in day, a week, or any amount of time. I can't get someone else's experience, either. no matter how hard I study or want to be like them. Better served, maybe, me and my horses, when I take what I can, apply as best I can, observe the results and go forward from there.

So, working WITH the horse, rather than against him. I am finding some new ideas about what that means to me and some refinements of the old ones that still work. Curious to know, what does it mean to you?

Hope you guys had a great riding season, and that winter treats us well and sees a LOT more hours in the saddle than the last one did!!

I am offering some different ride/lesson packages at Shady Lanes Ranch, just north of Council Bluffs. We offer indoor and outdoor riding facilities, and I'll be out on the trails til I can't find them anymore. Working on a couple of group lesson times, one Tuesday evening, one maybe Saturday morning. Let me know if you have a horse you'd like kept ridden this winter, some interest in lessons, or maybe a "Beat The Winter Blues" clinc that I am cooking up in my little beany brain box.

See you soon! (no new photos, posting from the Calvin Center in Hampton, Georgia, my second favorite home away from home! :-)))

Good Hands is making a move!

2010-10-06T08:36:00.005-05:00

After an incredibly long, hot, sweaty, rainy summer I am wrapping up the full time training season and in the process, moving the larger body of my business to our new home at Shady Lanes Ranch, Inc, north of Council Bluffs, IA. Happily I will continue to give lessons at Log Barn Stables, a beautiful facility south of Plattsmouth, NE until weather and lack of daylight draws that to a close. Come Spring, we'll pick right back up again.

I can't believe it's been so long since I last blogged, the summer has been a blur of riding the training horses, teaching horsemanship to young and older :-), and it's been really enlightening for me to figure out better and better ways to break down the methods that I use so that people can not only see the results in the horse, but begin to learn how to take those things home and keep the journey moving, once they are on their own.

The absolute hands down most exciting thing to happen this summer is the birth of Estelle Lucinda!! I was graced with being allowed to attend my daughter at the birth, and got to see Stella, shortly after she entered the world! August 26, 2010 will mark one of the happiest days of our lives! Sarah and Justin are making amazing first time parents and I think Stella is one fortunate young lady, to be born into such a loving family!!

A Competitive Trail Riding Group came for a clinic this summer, was a ton of fun working with those guys. I used Log Barn's Scooby, a 7 year old Quarter Horse gelding I have been riding, once known as "Scooby Doesn't", who now has his proper name of "Scooby Does"! He demo'ed the obstacles in kind and sensible manner, learned how to pony, and ride double in the process. It was such a blast to work a group of seasoned horsepeople! Thanks so much, Robin, for getting this set up, and I wish you'd felt well enough to attend!

Maybe the largest lesson, coming out of the season, for me this year, was that if I am going to have a business, I have to treat it like a business. Record keeping is not my strong suit and it is not that I don't know how, I can design a spreadsheet with the best of them (well, the medium of them, anyway!). Forcing myself to use my tools, no matter how exhausted I am when I get home, is darned near impossible for me and then things get awry. "Fail to prepare, and you prepare to fail," says someone wiser than I (forget who, too much hurry to google!). Goal for the rest of this year and ongoing, get those numbered ducks in a row if I am ever going to come out on the right colored ink side of the page!

The other lesson, and this one you'd think I'd have learned a very long time ago, to train horses, do a proper and timely job, in the midwest, you have got to have access to an indoor arena. My clients this summer paid WAY too much to have their horses ridden, not in dollars to me, by any means, but in the board required to get the riding accomplished. One day, I'd have to cancel for rain, the next for blistering heat! Tuesdays and Thursdays were booked with riding lessons as well, and every time I had to cancel those, bang, a horrible ding in the budget. So, lucky to still have a roof over my head and something to drive, Good Hands is making a move.

I have know the folks at Shady Lanes for a long time. Many of the good horses I have put under a bunch of you, out there, came through Charlie's hands before they reached mine. We have had our ups and downs, over the years, and I feel we all know each other well. We've built a friendship that has stood the test of time, and we can trust one another to take care of business and be honest and forthright, as well.

Shady Lanes Ranch has been in existence for over 45 years. They rent horses by the hour for guided trail rides through gorgeous, scenic trails through the Loess Hills of Council Bluffs. A certified Wrangler (thanks AAHS!), I started leading the trail rides a couple of months ago on the weekends. I love the work, it turns out! I give mini riding lessons along the way, get the people laughing when I can see they are scared, and we tend to have a heck of a good time. You know, when the relatives come in from out of town and want to go horse back riding, you all should come on over! Yes, it will cost you a little money to ride one of ours, as for insurance reasons, we can't allow outside horses, but what a neat and safer way to take a group of folks on a bona fide trail ride!

This time of year, the tractors fire up and it's hayrack rides! I get to work these, too, parking the zillion and two cars that carry in our happy party goers! Last Saturday, Miss Jesse James, Corie Nelson and I parked cars for THIRTY SIX racks!! I am told that's the lightest weekend we will have til we wrap it up, beginning of November! Woohoo, Colleen, put your spurs on honey, it's going to be some wild nights! I'll tell you guys more about the horse I am riding for that, a lovely Pinto Arabian, bay tobiano that I christened "Royal". Arron said, upon watching us come in Saturday night, Royal still breathing fire after four hours of perpetual motion "Damn, that is the most beautiful horse I have EVER seen . . . and CRAP! I bet we end up owning that one!" We will, if I have anything to say about it!

My training season will continue through November, and then weather permitting, throughout the winter, too. I am off to Georgia first weekend in November to visit my favorite church camp and home away from home, the Calvin Center. Gretchen is graciously hosting me again this year to teach AnyWhere From Here Foundation Horsemanship clinics, and I already have a repeat rider from last year! Yay! When I get back, it will be time to assess, depth of snow . . . inches of ice . . . to continue or wait til Spring, that is the question!

For now, I'll be offering riding lessons at Shady Lanes Ranch and Log Barn Stables, have one training spot available, and then we'll see, come November, I might have one more. Let me know if you want a spot, for now, or reserve your place for 2011. It will be here before you know it!!

Hot Times, Summer in the . . .

2010-07-30T07:56:00.003-05:00

Well, not the city, but hot times, for sure! As the season develops, I find myself spreading my time more or less equally between the Log Barn Stables in Plattsmouth and the Shady Lanes Ranch in Crescent, IA. Would be hard pressed to find gigs further apart, really! Both are satisfying, both allow me to do what I do best, work with horses, people and do a little growing of my own along the way.

Of the many cool things that have taken place, I turned 50 this year!! Some of my best friends in life came to celebrate with me (there were some missing faces, but they are far away and I understand). We rode Cunningham Lake, Colleen and I both on our graduating 60 day horses, and we had the best of times! Hoping it's not the last time I get to ride with Annette, who is abandoning us for her homeland, Texas. We'll miss you, hon.

Probably the very coolest thing of all, is that we are expecting our first grandbaby. My daughter, Sarah, is due to deliver here in the next couple of weeks. She and her guy (we love you, Justin) are having a bouncy, healthy little girl, and we cannot wait to meet her, blessings to you both, darling!

Like just about everyone else I know, I have succumbed and built a Facebook page. Due to that, I am in touch with several old childhood friends, and my best old riding buddy from that era came out and spent a week with us, early this summer. Lisa and I had great plans to camp with Corie Nelson and our other friends from Horsetales, but weather and more complicated logistics that we could overcome ix-nayed that plan. We still got in some riding and had a great visit. Pretty cool to pick up pieces some 30 years down the line and find we still have much in common.

My lesson program has swiftly filled, which is extremely gratifying. I have long loved the "ah ha's" and "light bulb moments" of helping horses figure out people. Now, I am getting a lot of joy out of helping people do the reverse. There are mostly children in my program and where once I would have told you I wouldn't have the patience for kids, having barely survived the raising of my own, I have found working with the young ones to be rewarding and just a whole lot of fun. I have some adults as well, and people who really want to develop that special relationship that is possible with the horse, well, let's just say it's hard to charge them for it, but somehow I manage :-)

I am still riding the bay horses I started with late in Spring! Between heat and rain, and figuring out improving time management, I might be setting a record on how long it takes to put a ride on a horse! I don't say this because I am at all happy about it, I am dedicated to turning out a proper product, my clients have paid for horses that ride and ride well, and that is what they will get when the colt and filly return home. We are making progress, riding outside of the arena as much as in, but still not where I want them to be for responsive handling and they need to see a little more of the world before they head back north.

My latest set of trainers is a 6 six year old Percheron/Paint cross mare and a 15 year old Thoroughbred/Trakehner cross. I will be starting the mare under saddle, and doing a refresher course on the gelding. Saddled the mare yesterday. She was halterbroke as a two year old and has had little handling since. I have found this mare to be incredibly sane and decent. She is one who is really helping me develop my feel and timing. If I ask her, show her how, and give her some time to process, this horse has done anything I want. If I rush, or get impatient, she shows that she could bow up pretty easy, but it's not what she wants. We have got along famously so far, and yesterday was no exception. I asked Derek to come up with his camera, as I thought we might get some exciting shots when she found out that saddle was coming with, no matter what. I have been preparing her to saddle since I started working with her, and yesterday was just a smooth evolution into the next step. Pricked her ears curiously at the flappy navajo, didn't mind it on her body anywhere. Has had a rope around her belly and been led with that, so the girth was no big deal.

We got pictures of a pretty gray mare moving around with a saddle on. I was very tempted to just climb on, she gave me absolutely no sign that would not be okay. I will build a little foundation, first, make sure she respects the halter rope and that I can turn and stop her. I think this mare is going to be delightful. She'll be for sale, when the riding is over, as my client is thinning her herd and going to reduce down the Paints she loves to breed and wants to show.

The gelding is a nice horse too. I saddled him Western even though he has hunter/jumper training, I am still more comfortable in those than I am my dressage saddle. Did all the groundwork, but I am not sure how long it's been since anyone was on this horse. My husband and I have an agreement, first time on, someone else is present. I don't want to be one of those trainers found in a round pen or an arena because I took a chance when no one else was there to dial 911. I take a lot of precautions to not GET in that condition, but horses are horses, and the green ones, well, why would they not be even more so. This afternoon, if I am not stormed out up there, I'll get someone to come down while I ride him. I think it will be just fine.

Derek, at Log Barn, built a water crossing for us to train on! I am so excited about that! Log Barn has so much to offer for a training facility, in many ways. The trails are perfect for a young horse learning the ropes and will be good for my clients, when they are accomplished enough to venture out. I need someone to come with me on a good steady eddie and accompany me and those good bay horses on the trails. My husband may get pressed into service for this one, or even my accomplished but contrary and horse reluctant son! Arron was actually on Ginger the other day, trying out a new saddle. He has a cheaper made one, and is finding out, the better your equipment, and having it fit you and your horse, the more comfortable the ride! We had a great time, tooling around the trails. Ginger has developed into a true died in the wool go to girl, and gives lessons and carries husbands with equal aplomb. She even deals well when I climb in the saddle and decide to work on some of the fancy stuff I am learning up north.

Speaking of that, I am riding with a fantastic instructor in Crescent. Jose Lopez is new in town. He's Argentine, and has lived and ridden in Europe as well as some big barns on the East Coast. Jose is riding out of Karen Nielsen's Sunset Ridge Stables which is adjacent to Shady Lanes. Jose is an extremely accomplished horseman, specializing in jumping and dressage. I am finding him to be that next good teacher to assist me in my never ending quest to be the finest horseperson, at the end of the day, that I possibly can. We are putting together an introductory clinic for Jose, August 14, at Sunlight Ridge. $60 to ride a two hour session, of which there will be three or four. The fee pays for the ride and all day attendance. Jose can solve just about any horse problem you might have and is fun and adept to work with. I can't encourage my friends more bring their horses, or at least come audit, which is free. Let me know if you want a spot, they are filling up fast!

I am having the best of times this summer, crazy busy, long hours, but it's what I live to do. I have a trailer for sale, extra tall two horse, some saddles and a really super nice Palomino gelding, trail horse deluxe. Somehow I managed to acquire another horse, along the way, too! Bashful Flower, I kid you not, is a three year old retired race horse, LOL! Retired not due to any injury, he's completely sound but as the fellow I bought him from said "go ahead and ride him, Terri (much disgust in his tone), he can't run fast enough to hurt you!" After a very undistinguished career of five races, Bashful is going to develop into a super nice, quiet minded saddle horse. Rode him the other day, he was a lamb. Plan so far, bring him along, find him a home. Might make a fantastic Pony Clubber, we'll see.

I am booking for September training, can offer spots either north or south, for your convenience. Log Barn offers a large, open lot and round bales for board facility, up north, I have stalls and an indoor arena, as well as trails. Let me know if you would like to book a space for your horse. My lesson program is currently full, but I am taking names for my waiting list.

Hope you all are having as much fun this summer as I am, heat and rain, be darned!

Helmets, Horsemanship & Other Developments

2010-05-31T15:02:00.019-05:00

Before you think, oh please not another lecture on why I should wear a helmet, know that is not one. I am going to talk about some personal revelations and personal choices. This past week I have been at the Calvin Center, somewhere in Georgia, earning certification in the American Association For Horsemanship Safety. http://www.horsemanshipsafety.com/ . This program is written by a pair of attorneys who specialize in Equine Law and it was an eye opener on many levels, from beginner to . . . well, I don't know where the end is, yet, but I am not there!

I have long espoused the view that horsemanship will save your life, long before a helmet does, and have given examples from my 35+ years of riding and training experiences of some of the rather spectacular near misses and hits that I have taken that a helmet not only would not have aided me but might even have hindered my instinctual ability to tuck, roll and protect my body. The helmets I have tried on and worn, over the years have felt obstructive, bulky and extremely uncomfortable. As a professional colt starter, I cannot afford equipment that compromises my ability to safely do my job.

Last week, I watched a video (Every Time, Every Ride, available thru AAHS) with a segment featuring a once-professional horse trainer, also who had ridden and trained from a very early age, struggle with rehab from the irreversible brain damage he had sustained in a fall. The man, still young had plenty of awareness of who he is, who he was, and what has happened to his life. There were tears in his eyes at the end of his statement as he wished he'd have strapped on a helmet the day that changed his life forever. There were tears in mine, as well. I am quite certain, the morning before his accident, his stories and statements about why he did not choose to wear a helmet would have been much like my own.

The other segments made me cry as well. Mothers talking about daughters no longer with them. Not one of those daughters were mounted on a risky horse, there were varying degrees of ability but none were beginners. One horse stumbled on a trail ride. That was it. There were some other stories of the near miss. I was happy to see them, but they did not stop my tears for the ones who have no second chance. All I could think was, not on my watch. Not if I can help it, will I have to be part of one of those stories. I can't even imagine the horror of knowing someone in my care is gone because we missed a piece of the prevention. I have difficulty even imaging waking up in a half life, not being able to do what I love, or even speak clearly, walk or move my body because of that one single, reasonably foreseeable, avoidable choice.

It is still a piece and only a piece. I still emphasize horsemanship education and practice. There was a young girl on the video who said she felt very safe when she wore her helmet. She and I would have to talk. I think of many riders I have known that chose helmets as an everyday part of riding apparel but were lackadaisacal about seeking education in their horsemanship. That, for me, is akin to having entry level driving skills, strapping on a seat belt and expecting the seat belt to save me from having a wreck. It will protect me in many cases but why not learn to drive, while I am at it?

So, okay, this is what I have to say on this subject. I wore a helmet all week. I have tried on many brands and types and hated them all until now. I have heard of the Tipperary helmet, it's constructed slightly differently than the others I have tried, and when I set one on my head, I said, "hmm, I might not hate this." And I don't. There was another, made ironically by a company called "Helmets R Us" that I also did not hate and it is a less expensive option. I will be purchasing a helmet for myself, and will have three sizes available for my lesson students. My son and husband are about to become helmet wearers, though they are unaware of this development at the time of this writing :-)

The clinic I rode in, which was seeking accreditation through the AAHS program, written and developed by a pair of attornies who specialize in Equine Law, was one of the most grueling, intensive experiences since my college days, and I am talking about the accelerated summer sessions, as opposed to regular semester studies! I went, wondering what five mere days could add to the value of so many years of education and experience. How much value could this accreditation, this set of initials really hold? I quickly gained respect, as I glanced through the daunting syllabus of reading and study assignments. I had no idea the real challenge would lie elsewhere, a place I am the most comfortable of anywhere in the world. The saddle.

Hosted by the Calvin Center, a truly class accommodation, we had motel style rooms and I was presented with a room mate. As you know, if you know me, I am a very private person and was not sure what I would think of the arrangement. Turns out, it was a blessing getting to know Karen, as well as the rest of this group of highly talented, driven, wonderful women I had the privilege of sharing the clinic with. I was determined to do well, and their equal dedication lent strength to my own.

We rose early, for last minute study, before breakfast was served promptly at 8 a.m. Brian, the new chef, was worth the price of admission, all by himself. He greeted us every morning with a cheery grin and I swear, overcast or not, Brian brought out the sun. "Be sure and try the oatmeal," says he, "it tastes like Christmas!" And so it did. Brian does not fry, everything was seasoned, but healthy. I ate cookies for dessert at lunch, and some kind of miraculous culinary concoction at dinner and still managed to come home a pound lighter than when I arrived.

We had quizzes every day, and trust me, if you didn't know your stuff, the quiz knocked you for a loop. Many of us were like cocky young horses, certain we knew the lay of the land, and it was not long at all before our able Instructor, Brenda Hendrix, had our both ears, both eyes and complete attention!

After a wonderful lunch, again served promptly, at noon, we met at the barn at 1, would saddle our prospective mounts (I could write an entire blog on the wonderful Calvin Center horses, and may yet. I only wish I had taken my camera to the barn) and ride til dinner, at five. Once in awhile we would not make dinner and our gratitude that they held food for us was enormous. Some nights we returned back to the barn after dinner to work on riding exercises, and whether we did that or not, EVERY night saw us hitting the books, and studying til the wee hours.

Back to the afore-mentioned challenge . . . the saddle. First, I had decided to ride the clinic English, as I felt I would gain the most knowledge. I have ridden Western all my life, and have dabbled in English riding, with a few dressage lessons thrown into the mix, as I have dabbled in so many things. I even rode the riding test English, later wondering had I lost my entire mind, but that worked out. The rest of it, not as well.

We have discussed, on our chat list, an exercise known as 7-7-7. I am here to say, if you have not ridden the clinic, you don't know what it is. We thought we did, at least I sure thought I did. Seven strides at the trot, posting, sitting and standing each. How tough is that? Not so very . . . can do it with my eyes closed, and have. Then you add a piece called . . . alignment. Ohhh . . . I have long known I ride with a bracey, forward pointing leg. Years of riding colts and adding layer after layer of fear and defense has created a posture reinforced by muscle memory and tendon length.

Many of us know that to be properly aligned in the saddle, one draws a line through ear, shoulder point of hip and heel. Few of us, or so I believe, realize how important that line is for function, not merely form, at which I have always scoffed. Working to move my lower leg into a stable position, with heel landing naturally in plumb line caused me tears of frustration, pain in places I didn't know I had, and caused me to seriously doubt my ability to master those same simple skills that I thought I had, hands down, locked in, forever and unshakably.

Of the levels in which one can reach certification, I paid attention to only two. Top, which is Full, and the next one, Basic (which I thought would be a come down, and an expression of failure on my part, hah, little did I know!). What I know now, is that while I aced the study portion of the course, the years of riding in solitude and developing poor habits is not going to be overcome in a week. I recognized the problem, awhile back when I started taking dressage lessons with Missy Fladland. Those lessons and the Centered Riding group lesson I took with Brenda Messick, a few weeks ago are the only reasons I was even able to qualify as Basic. It's humbling, but not shattering. I know the further I get, in the horsemanship journey, the more doors open if I am willing to accept and undertake the challenge. To achieve Full certification, one must meet certain criteria for teaching, understanding the books and Secure Seat method, and then be able to perform the 7-7-7 indefinitely. This is impossible without mastering the first step, alignment.

My largest consolation is that I am among a group of women whose horsemanship I admire, as a body. We had Karen who teaches dressage and rides with beautiful form, Mona Lisa who had ridden one trotting horse a week previous in the past six years (she raises and shows gorgeous Tennessee Walkers, shows them barefoot and WINS, as a side note), Sonya who had taken over the family Trail Ride operation (http://www.trackrock.com/. Check this out!) at the tender age of 14 (she's my age now) and is has a natural form and ability you would not believe for someone who has never taken a formal lesson. There was Jo and her daughter, Candace, who are at the beginning of their horsemanship education journey, and dug in and did just as well as the rest of us, for where they started. We had Marywill, a camp volunteer, whose abilities are far beyond her modest assessments of herself, and Alicia, a young camp volunteer who has the opportunity, with the education she is getting to come as far as she would like.

And of course, our own Brenda Messick. There were days, without her quiet encouragement, I might have hung up my stirrups and said, give me a Western saddle, I cannot do this and I cannot afford to fail. Brenda, though she says she had her struggles, never lost her cool, and always looked like she was mastering the task at hand. I really look forward to riding with you again, Brenda, and we will help keep each other on track! Full certification, here we come!!

There were so many unexpected gifts!! Seeing Gretchen ride her OTT, retired broodmare-now-turned-dressage horse, Rainbow again, brought tears to my eyes and a proud smile. Here is a student which is outgrowing my instruction, and it's beautiful to see. Getting to meet and ride with her dressage instructor, Susan Griesel (sp), was an honor, and added a few more tools to my bag of tricks. The women I rode with began some relationships I hope to hold on to, and getting to meet and begin a friendship with Brenda Hendrix, none of these things did I go looking for when I decided to add some marketable credentials to my resume.

Any of you who have taken my clinics will recognize these strengths and weaknesses. You saw me make changes in your horse that were undeniably visible and effecting, but then struggled to learn the methods that will allow you to make those changes yourself, at home, alone. I have learned to break things down into a step by step procedure, have learned to plan lessons through an established format that is centered upon student learning. As with everything else I have stumbled upon, I can't imagine why I could not figure out these things for myself, but these so very critical pieces of the puzzle, the human side, are here now, and I have a large project in front of me. I will be writing out my program, developing lesson series and curriculum's, that can then be broken down and individualized. This will revolutionize my teaching style, and hopefully, revolutionize the learning curve for those of you who ride with me, along the way.

I cannot say thank you enough to Gretchen, who encourage and then insisted I take this course. Without you, it could not and would not have taken place. I could not see that the means justified the end, and I was so wrong. I can't thank the Calvin Center volunteers enough. When I was there in October, the horses said many things were awry, and their futures as lesson and camp horses were in doubt. This year, the way the horses reacted to the simplest things, from catching, to tacking up, told me many good changes have been put in place. It was a joy working with them again, and the honor to be even a very small part of that wonderful program is huge. I know I have once again, produced a novel when maybe a short story would have been more in order. It was an incredible nine days, and there are more stories, yet to tell!

Contact me for info on lesson series, clinics and horse training. Thanks!

Mocha Goes Home Today

2010-05-20T12:44:00.004-05:00

and I am really going to miss her. Mocha is a four year old AQHA filly raised by Eric and Doats Norby at Broken Wheel Ranch, in Sioux City, IA. If you follow my blog, they raised my beloved Slippin and Knosie, a pair of fillies I put time on as two and three year olds. Mocha is by the Two Eyed Red Buck stud that they have and I think that stud must put an incredible mind on every baby he throws, if these three are any indication. Mocha started out with an issue or two, but what horse that comes to training doesn't?

Mocha had an injury when she was two that resulted in surgery on an infected tendon and quite a bit of time spent in a cast. Norby's brought her to my place to start, last Fall, just shortly before I fell victim to the plague and had to send all my training horses, jiggedy jig back home again. Throughout my barn misadventures when we moved to Omaha this winter, they have patiently waited for me to get myself settled, then they and a friend of theirs hauled all the way down to Plattsmouth so I could finish the job I had promised.

Mocha had been handled plenty, of course, during her rehabilitation, but there was no way she could be asked to move her feet, much and she really liked that status. When she did move them, she thought nothing at all of putting them wherever she wanted them to go, and if that was on top of you, well then, it made perfect sense to her that you should just get the heck out of the way.

Not having had to do much she didn't want to, as was necessary to not upset her during that delicate healing time, it came as quite a shock to Mocha when so many things changed, and quickly at that. When I walked away and took the slack out of the lead, I expected her to step right up and follow, not pull the slack out and tow along behind like a barge stuck on sandbar. Being tied up didn't bother her one bit, but having to wear a saddle? THAT was seriously out of the question.

I did most of the warm up I normally do when I saddle for the first time. I make sure the young horse is as relaxed in their body as they can possibly be, teach them to disengage their hips over, bring their shoulders back through so I know I have at least a little control over them when I go to saddle. I desensitize around the girth and back cinch areas, hold the end of the lead around them. I release and present pressure with feel and timing to help the young horse not get troubled. I throw the rop over their backs, let them feel the saddle pad all over and see it on both sides. Mocha handled all of this okay, and setting the saddle up was not a big deal. It was not until she left and the pesky thing insisted on going with her that things got dusty.

She really didn't buck much, and not that hard either. I probably would have even stood a decent chance of riding it out, had it happened when I was on board though I am awfully glad I wasn't. Derek, who owns Log Barn Stable, and his hired hand, Jim, were watching, and their eyes were even bigger than the filly's. They thought she might present quite a handful. I laughed, and said, nope, she'll be fine. Seen a LOT worse than this!!

That idea of theirs was compounded a few days later when Mocha and I had a showdown about where the feet go. When I said, don't run into pressure, she said, okay, how about I run THROUGH it instead? I said, what a bad idea that is. She said, get out of my way, you silly insignificant human, I want to be somewhere else right now!

We went round and round. She'd run through her halter pressure, over and over again. I escalated to meet her resistance, and she escalated to meet mine. I turned her into the round pen panels and asked her to yield back a step or two. When she couldn't blow past me, she reared up, trying to swing her body over the top of me. That ran her into my stick pretty sharp, as my arm wasn't tall enough to reach that high but no way was she going to succeed in that manuever!

The hired guy had brought in some round bales and was watching this altercation with considerable interest. I am thinking to myself, holy cow, he is going to be thinking I am the meanest most abusive horse trainer ever (whack, do NOT try to run over me, WHACK do NOT rear up over the top of me, BACK UP!!). We were at this for awhile, and I am seriously questioning what I can do to help this filly figure things out. We are in the thick of it, and no way can I release pressure here, as where the release comes, so does the teaching and if you release in the middle of something that isn't going well, you'll teach that just as effectively as when you release at that perfect and proper moment.

Which . . . finally came. Almost by accident, Mocha suddenly threw her head down after running into my stick several times, and backed herself up. She is breathing heavily, eyes big and on me, ears straight forward. I throw down the rope (reminiscent of when I was working Jessica's Wildfire filly), spin around and walk away, releasing pressure in as large a picture as I possibly can. YES! THIS is the RIGHT answer!!

Mocha watches me intently to see what I will do next. As she relaxes and straightens her body position, I slowly approach. I make myself as friendly and non threatening in every aspect of my body language that I p0ssibly can. When I reach her, I hold out my hand, palm down in a cup shape I have heard called the "horseman's handshake." I let her reach out and touch me first, then I rub and rub her. She's sweaty and enjoys the contact and the reassurance.

We turned a corner that day. Still had things to work out, but she no longer dragged her feet on the halter rope, was no longer pushy and disregarding of my space. Jim said he was watching not to see if I was going to hurt the filly but if he needed to call 911 for me!! Aw heck, Jim, it wasn't all THAT bad, LOL! It's been fun, having those guys watch this filly progress into the nice horse I was very sure she would be, from the start, knowing her breeding and all.

The first time I got on her, she was very unsure and tense. I let her move around until she relaxed, didn't ask much of her and got down. I fixed some more things from the ground. Another colt starter might have just ridden her through and been fine. I do what I do, and it seems to turn out okay. Rode her again, a few days later with MUCH better result. In the meantime, I have been working on keeping her balanced in her movement, watching for all four corners to be reaching equally, walk, trot and canter on the 12 foot line. We work circles (I never lunge, hate seeing horses run around in mindless circles that are not teaching them anything), and I bump her if she pulls on me, continuing to reinforce the idea of being light and responsive on the line, just like I am soon going to want her to be light and responsive on the rein. I send her over the bridge, help her gain confidence by using my plastic sacks on the end of a stick. I bring them from the ground, straight up the shoulder, a tip I got from my good friend, Colleen Hamer. I run it over the side of the saddle so she can see it from the eye on the side I am not on. I run it over her rump, down her legs, as if something is falling off the saddle. She gets calm and good with all of this. Time to ride.

A young gal is also training out at Log Barn, Miss Jesse James, from out the wild west, Broken Bow, NE way. I enlist her aid, and ask her if she wouldn't mind being a passenger for me while I send the filly around and get all three gaits. She says sure (oh for the courage of youth!!), I get on Mocha first (oh wait, maybe I don't that night, but had been on her before, and was very sure we'd not run into problems.) I give Jesse a line from the halter, we make a game plan in case things don't go well, and I send them off at a walk. We pick up the trot, and eventually get the canter, going that way. I think we got Mocha tired, in the deep sand, as we got the trot the other way, but she was straining pretty hard when I asked for the lope and I didn't push it. I really like having someone to passenger while I am the gas pedal. It makes things easier all the way around.

After that, it's just been a matter of getting the rides on and the teaching commenced. We've ridden in the arena, rode over the bridge, which of course she had no problem with, been down the road a little and she got hauled over to Chance Ridge Event Center when I rode a group lesson with Brenda Messick who is introducing some really cool concepts with Centered Riding.

The Event Center is a wonderful place to ride. The arena is huge, nicely footed, there are roping boxes, bucking chutes and always something going on in the back alley where the livestock lives, oh yeah, and a tarp covered mechanical bull in another corner! My broke mare, Ginger, looked askance at a couple of things. Not Mocha. First, I ponied her around to give her a good look at her surroundings, and when I got on, I dropped the reins and let her go see whatever she needed a second take on. She makes a beeline for the alley that goes in back to the cattle pens. Not one bit afraid, Mocha drinks in the sights and sounds of cattle. Wow, she's neat!

Riding there went well, and I love how solid and confident this horse feels under me. She's not a spook, has her brain firmly between her ears at all times, and just does not seem to get rattled by much of anything. The other night, Jesse rode Mocha and I rode Two Sox, a gelding I have in training, and we just played around in my big dry lot. It was about riding up and down steep little hills, stopping, turning, backing, going where WE wanted to go, even though it was their home and the other horses were happily munching at the round bale while they had to work. Neither colt got at all worried or troubled, which was nice to see.

Yesterday, Derek took some moments from his busy day and shot a few photos for me. I have a few from the very early days when Corie came over to watch Soxie, and now these. The filly has come a long way, which of course, is always the goal. I think she can go home and do a good job for my friends, whether it's trail riding, gathering cattle or maybe finding a new home in the world to please the next set of owners. She needs her continuing education, but I couldn't be happier with the start. Only 30 days, and that, a broke horse does not make, but she handles nicely, gives to her bit, and when you ask something with a rein, she understands it means for a foot to move, whether it's forward, backward or laterally.

Now for the commercial. I am accepting limited bookings for June, July and August. I am only taking on three outside horses, as I am going to concentrate on lessons and clinics. This week, I'll be traveling to Georgia and riding in a five day clinic to get an accreditation as Riding Instructor with the American Association of Horsemanship Safety. I am very excited about this new direction in my life. My first love will always be helping horses, but unless I can help the people, it truly is not as good.

Contact me for more info on this stuff if you are interested. I need five paid in advance riders to host a clinic and we can do it at Log Barn Stables wwwlogbarnstables.com or your facility if you choose!

Thanks and happy trails!!

CCHPC Clinic Recap

2010-04-26T11:20:00.012-05:00

I have decided blog updates are what you do when your allergies are just totally kicking your butt and you are waiting for your meds to kick in, so you can head out to the barn and do your job. In the meantime, here we go. (just read an article about how pollen counts are off the charts. man, that explains a LOT!) I've been happily reflecting on the latest Anywhere From Here foundation horsemanship clinic, and here's a recap of what went on . . .

The clinic in Lincoln was just the best time. I sent out the photo link to all those hundreds of photos and figure, since that might be daunting to wade through, plus it's hard to know exactly what you are looking at, if you have not attended a clinic of mine, what you think you see may not be what's actually occurring :-)) All things are taught with a process and an end goal of softness and fluidity under the saddle, and there are steps to take along the way or you may end up somewhere, totally else!

We had seven riders, the youngest being a 13 year old girl, the oldest, well I am not saying, LOL! The 13 year old has more miles under her belt than many adults and several of the adults were either brand new to horses or just returning to their childhood roots. The seven horses ranged from chartreuse green to the bluest of true blue, a really nice bunch of horseflesh.

I teach essentially the same things in all of my clinics and lessons. The paths we take may vary, techniques might change from horse to horse but the principles of gaining the horse's respect, the promise of instant release from pressure as the horse seeks the right answer . . . those things do not change. Gaining these skills in a friendly, controlled environment can mean all the difference to whether or not your trail rides go as planned or have mishaps, disappointments and scary events added instead. (see the May issue of Saddle Up magazine for my article on Trail Safety)

We had issues of horses who didn't really want to or understand how to freely move their feet, and ones who seemed to want to move them too much. I taught the riders how to send their horse from the ground, doing exercises that might look like lunging but are very far from mindless circles, round and round. We watched for all four corners to be reaching equally. A horse with brace in his body will travel crooked and getting the brace out of the body relaxes the mind as well. Fixing that can be a major solution to many problems a rider might think totally unrelated. Getting the horses to respond lightly on the halter was another task that involved teaching the handlers how to start soft and firm up as necessary. The release needs to come as the horse STARTS to make the change, if you wait til the change is done, it's too late. That kind of timing can only come with practice and observation. I think my students picked up very quickly on what they needed to do, and the generally easy looks on the faces of the horses tell you we were on the right track.

When we did run into some stickiness, here and there, I was able to step in and show what works for me. I do not claim my timing and feel are perfect, far from it, but I was able to get the horses past their hard places and could show one horse it was okay to give and work away from his buddies, another horse carries a lot of tightness in his body which results in chronic bucking behavior, another tends to want to sleep through her days, plopping her feet roughly into the ground, and when we were able to bring the life in the body to the feet and into the mind, we created a much prettier picture than we started with!

It was really fun working with some folks who have been to a couple of my clinics and are very dedicated to taking this stuff home. For those guys, it was mostly a matter of fine tuning, and introducing a few ideas I have just learned, myself, and they were off and running. It was equally a joy introducing these concepts as brand new ideas to some of the other folks who got to find out their horses really do appreciate it when the rider is the leader and the horse doesn't have to worry about being in charge. It's a big responsibility, you know! It's not about the struggle of "showin' 'em who's boss" but rather letting the horse be assured that when you say something, you mean it and have the ability to follow through. A boss mare who pins her ears but then does nothing to rebut a challenge will quickly lose her spot. The one that has the ability to firm up will rarely ever need to use it.

We played with obstacles, not because we think we will find mattresses on the trail and need to be able to cross them but because that particular object provided an excellent venue to erase doubt's in our horse's minds about our ability to send and ride them over things they may not think, on their own, is the absolute best idea. Every success built confidence, horse in rider, rider in horse, and prepares the way for more success, out in the world, using these same principles, pressure, release, good sends, rewarding the try, knowing when to firm up and knowing when to sit and wait. Again, the details will change and there is no way to simulate every single type of situation a person will run into on the trail, but when you have the principles in place, you and your horse will be able to smoothly handle whatever comes your way, no leaping, balking, sticking or whirling required!

Thinking about the late Tom Dorrance's poem "To Slicker Break A Bronc" we did slicker training, and all our "broncs" came around to thinking nothing of the flapping yellow thing. Might have been a different story, had we been caught in the rain, five miles from the trailer and just tried to unfold and wear one. . . .might have been a long walk home for some of us!

I taught the class the hip over, shoulder through exercise, of which there are many variations. I like it best when I don't take the arc out of the body of the horse and I ask them to rock back on their hindquarters, lifting the front and bringing the shoulder through while yielding away from me. This has really helped my horses not be heavy in front, as they all used to be, once upon a time. We did that manuever from the ground and worked on it from the saddle. We used one of my favorite exercises, the barrel game, to see how well we had those pieces. That game also provides excellent spook therapy when you use your line or the horse's stirrup to knock one down while the horse comes around it. They get pretty used to the idea that sudden, unexpected events can take place without having to have any kind of catastrophic reaction! The tight horse learned to bend and I don't think he bucked, even once, the second day all day long. Lots of good uses for these games and exercises!

The next piece after that is lateral flexion in motion. We learned the basics for that, from the ground, looking for that straightness in the arc that shows the nose tipped in, inside hind reaching into the track of outside fore. I no longer teach just bending a horse's head and neck, back and forth. I have learned, if I want the feet to be aware of signals from the reins, it doesn't make sense to detach them by doing rein exercises that do not and are not supposed to, move the feet! I have seen many a horse run through it's outside shoulder, and most of those have been bent and bent and bent, so that when you pick up the rein, sure the head and neck come around, whilst that body, detached, continues on in the direction it was going, only now without it's head! I look for lateral flexion to take place while the inside hind is reaching up under, at first, it is at that one stride that I release, and later, I can ask the horse to hold that frame, bending, and then straight down the rail for a truly lovely picture of collection and self carriage. It's one of the neatest exercises I know, and I learned it from Missy Fladland who I cannot wait to ride with again, once her show schedule slows down.

At the end of the last afternoon, we played arena games, to help build, once again rider confidence in their ability to steer their horse not only from point to point, which encourages straightness and the very desirable goal of being able get point A to B with a minimum of direction and fuss, to group games. The group games addressed defensive trail horse issues, jiggy, speedy horse issues, pokey slowly never gonna get there issues, and gave the riders yet another set of tools to take home and build into their repetoire. Not I nor any good clinician I have seen says we can fix you or your horse in a matter of days or hours. The best we can do is show you some things that work for us, give you the pieces, the confidence and the ability to pick them up and use them. Then, it's up to you, the rider, to take it home, and THAT, my friend, is where the learning truly begins.

So, from the basics of having a horse learn to lead respectfully, taking responsibility for it's place by your side, it's willingness to stop when you stop, back up when you do, spook therapy, confidence building, obstacle training, trail safety and etiquette to some of the more advanced pieces of learning control, self carriage and collection, we covered a lot of ground over the course of a weekend! My next clinic is scheduled May 15, in Sioux City. We'll cover, in a nutshell, the basics of what we did over the weekend. I work to each rider's ability to try to give the best picture and possibilities of success for whichever piece of the puzzle is the one that fills the whole for you!

All In A Day's Work

2010-04-07T10:10:00.019-05:00

Spring horses are here and yesterday was the day to begin the beginnings. Derek has thoughtfully set up that round pen in the dry lot to make the preliminaries as easy as possible. The horses are comfortable in their surroundings, and ready to go to work. I caught each colt, one at a time, brushed and groomed, going over their bodies with a fine tooth comb to check condition, old scars, see if there was anything I need to take note of, for the day's work. It's also a good idea to make sure a horse can handle being touched, all over. My goal (which could have been amended if need be) was to get through any trouble spots and end with the colts moving freely off their halter ropes, walked, trotted and loped with saddles on, and then have them stand tied while the others have their turn.

Pedro was last on my list, as he will be, and he ended up just wandering around the lot, saddled, and getting to eat. Saddling him is a non issue, he thinks that thing is a part of his daily deal, now, which is exactly the way I want it. I did want to get another ride on him, but ran out of gas before it was his turn, so another day for that.

The first set of the season is always that way for me. I start out fat and out of shape.At least this year, I've been somewhat active so it's not quite as bad as coming off a full winter's rest, but hefting three or four heavy saddles gets wearing, and when it's time for that fifth one, doesn't matter what it weighs, it's a job! Pretty much anybody in the world can get a saddle on a horse in about 15 minutes or so. I can't guarantee they'll do it right, as I see it, or that the horse will be okay with that process. I took each horse, evaluated different things about the horse, and spent time setting us up for success for the rest of the journey.

Two Socks was my first victim to saddle, after Pedro. I knew what I wanted to see, in Soxie, and he came through with aces. We have already worked hard on getting him lightly coming forward off of halter pressure, lightly moving his feet, over, backwards and sideways. Soxie tended to want to lean on me and then Ginger, when I was working him off of her, and I hoped to see that tendency evaporated. I was not disappointed. What I really loved was when I disengage his hip and asked him to rock back so as to be able to lead out the shoulder through with the outside front foot, he floated back and stepped out so athletically and prettily I wished I had a video of it. It was text book, what that manuever should look like. Soxie carried this happy, cheerful look on his pretty face, like "see, I remember! I know how to do this stuff!" And then, he got to stand tied. Gone, too, was the restlessness of the other day, but on the other hand, he was tied 20 feet from all his buddies. Today, he'll be up top again, so we'll see how that goes. I don't mind at all, when a colt finds out there are powers greater than he, and it doesn't involve tugging and pulling on me to get the idea across! Soxie handled the stirrup slap, me jumping around like a loon, all about him, and next time we work, we'll see about stepping up. It's time.

Next up was Mocha. This is a good looking coming four year old that is the half sister to my beloved Slippin and Knosie. She is also the half sister to the bay bookends that are spending 60 days with me, as well. Because of an injury, she didn't get started when Slips and Knos did, but she's fully healed and ready to work now. In leading her around, I have noticed she tends to get sticky footed and dull when she doesn't really want to get along. I wanted to wake her up a little, get some respect and response, so I don't spend the next 30 days having to wear out my arms and heels, tugging and kicking her along.

Mocha is tall and wants to put that head of hers WAY in the air when she'd prefer to be left alone, too. In haltering her, she was blowing off my requests to bring that giraffe neck down to the level I wanted. Okay fine, let's work on that now, so it's not a problem later. One hand on her neck, another on the bridge of her nose, I work her neck back and forth, asking her to relax and come down. If she'd not been able to come through, or even took her nose away and left, I'd say, okay, go get her and start over. She didn't leave, and eventually the head came down. Very uninterested in acknowledging that halter, but compliant enough about having it slipped over her nose. Spang! Back up in the air goes the haltered head.

Okay, says me, let's work on that . . . I slip the rope behind her left front leg, and apply some gentle pressure. What ensues next is Mocha, trying to figure out what she needs to do to get rid of that pressure, and she tries a lot of things before giving me the answer I am looking for, which is lowering her head. Her favorite response is to turn her head to the left, run through the pressure and wind herself up in the rope until I am forced to let go. I pick up my stick and block that with a tap on the cheekbone until she holds it straight. Then, it's coming forward, running over the top of me. Nope, a tap stops that, toot sweet, as well. Is she being naughty? Heck no. She just does not understand what I want, and is trying to figure things out. It's my job to help with that. We hear "make the wrong thing hard and the right thing easy." Too many people just hear that first part, including me, sometimes. I really watched for the slightest give, the hesitation that she was even thinking about lowering her head, and it really wasn't long before she had her head down to her fetlocks, slack in the lead, and her eyes soft. THAT'S the goal.

I flipped the stick and string over her back, letting her know things might fly around up there. She wasn't too sure that was a good idea, but she had already trusted me about something hard for her, and the first bricks of a foundation are being laid . . . Mocha moved her feet uneasily, wondering if she were, perhaps, supposed to go somewhere and might get in trouble if she didn't. We'd just been working on getting her feet lightened up, remember, so she was not out of line to ask that question, not at all. It's my job to make my body language and energy clear when they are to move their feet and when they are to be still and handle commotion. If I am not clear in my signals, how can they be expected to be clear in their responses? Once she can handle that, I take the lead around her middle and let her know there can be pressure there, too. I make sure she's good with that, front and where the back cinch will go. I always saddle with a full rig. You might not want a back cinch, but if you do, you surely hope whoever started your horse used one, or you might find an unexpected rodeo when you go to saddle up . . .

During this time, the saddle is setting in the middle of the round pen, and when she finally does express curiousity about the "dead cow" (Richard Winters, I like that guy), I let her and encourage her to check things out. The saddle pad is hanging over the rail, and I've let her look at that, too. I want my horses curious and interested in what's going on around them, not tuned out and then, therefore, shocked as hell when something DOES penetrate and get through . . . I rub her with the saddle pad. This might feel like grooming to her, I don't know, but she likes it. She's a little sweaty by now and would like to rub me back. Nope, that does not work out. I can come into your bubble but you surely are not welcome in mine. She gets educated about where her space ends and mine begins, not because I slug her in the nose, yell, kick my feet, stomp or anything like that, but there's a sharp, inconvenient elbow, a bump here, a knock there, while I go about my business. I am not making a big deal of anything, but she learns that it's better for her to wait for me to do the petting. Saddle pad is in place and there's all kinds of lessons learned for ms. Mocha, in the process. I like getting a bunch of things accomplished, when I can, there's only so many hours in a day, might as well make use of them.

Mocha is tall, the Billy Cook roper I think will fit her best is not light. I take it on the left hand side, under the pommel with my left hand, grasping the first skirt on the right with my right. I bring it back behind me, letting the filly check the saddle out, now that's it's in a different place, which she does, and I begin the swing, which ends with the saddle more or less gracefully settling into place on her somewhat surprised back. One step forward, she finds the end of the halter rope, and having learned a little respect for that, stops and waits. I go around to let down my cinches (I know, if I saddled from the right, I'd already be there, but I don't mind and my colts need to stand quiet for that, anyway). I tighten the cinch, I have learned it has to be pretty snug this first time, to avoid that saddle ending up around the belly which is NOT where it was ever intended to be! I snug, and loosen, snug and loosen, her ears flickering in concern, head raising. I lower it when it gets high. Heads in the air are not relaxed horses, and I want her feeling good about this entire process, so I fix the problems as I find them. She's quiet, I snug up the cinch (Ray Hunt said to go three times around, I usually do two, but if three, and there's a problem, cinch won't come undone, leaving your saddle in a possible broken heap on the ground, and your horse with a black marble in it's experience jar) and fasten up the back. I also have learned to not use a breast collar on this first saddle. If they do jump around a little, I don't want the saddle pulling forward, either, so I left the breast collar over the saddle where it lives when I am not using it.

Mocha sent off like I asked, walking calmly, then picked up a little trot. Much to her surprise, the thing on her back came right with her and it felt FUNNY! She humped up three or four times, nothing to write home about, no bronc score for anyone and this untalented bucking horse rider prolly could'a stayed on, just fine. Not my way though :-) After that, non issue, walks, trots, lopes both direction, and now it's her turn to hang on a tie post and watch the rest.

I detailed out this first saddle for this filly because I wanted to illustrate how you can get a lot more done than just setting a saddle on a horse, cinching them up and away you go. I wanted to make sure she could come forward off of pressure, move back off of pressure, have some respect for my space and get the beginnings of an understanding of when to move her feet and when she needs to be still and wait for direction. This sets up the rest of our training in a tone I hope to continue, smooth, uneventful and undusty!

The other colts, three year olds, both of them, were with me last Fall. They have each been saddled several times and were ready to ride when I got the plague and had to send them home whilst I either passed on or recovered and could bring them back. Fortunately for me, they are back!

The filly, who I call Foxy, is quite a bit more skeptical than her brother. We spent far more time, working on hook up and getting her to even be willing to turn toward me when I changed direction in the round pen, rather than spinning her butt (middle hoof) and taking herself off, as she chose. Her attitude changed, from hanging her nose over the round pen, looking longingly into the distance, as she discovered that being with me is quiet and restful, taking off means moving your feet and working hard! She's got a lot of heart, and working hard didn't bother her all that much, which will be excellent for us, a bit further down the road. Once I got her coming to me, the rest was a piece of cake. If I had not solved that particular piece, it might still have gone well, I don't know, but resistance always shows up, and when it's later rather than sooner, it is NOT as good!

I did the same string over the back, around the legs, that I did with Mocha. I'd not take for granted just because she ended up saddling quietly last Fall, that we could merely pick up where we left off. Heck, I can't remember stuff I learned last Fall, pretty unfair of me to expect her to! With just a little preparation, she's wearing her saddle and it's again, uneventful and the dust has settled from our earlier go-round. I find a spot for her, and filly stands tied. (I am untalented at embedding images, they come in on top of the blog and I have to drag them down. It's too far for me to go, now, so you'll see the rest of them on the sidebar!)

HopScotch, the bay brother, is a born rockstar. He wants to get along, and with him, getting along is just taking a little time to let you know what you want. He joined up immediately, stayed soft and soft eyed through the entire process. Saddling him probably took less than 15 minutes, though you know, had he need more, I'd cheerfully have given him whatever time he required.

I played with the owner's three year old pony gelding,while everyone stood tied and thought about their day, or their hay, or whatever it is horse's dream of, while standing tied to a post. Probably being free and grazing on the nice grass springing up all around . . . anyhoo.

This is one of those cute, cute ponies, and he's a sweetie. Doesn't know a whole lot, which is fine, and that is what I am there for. Spent some time getting him to come forward off pressure, and back away from it. Trouble I see with most ponies, is people just expect them to get along with kids because everyone is small and why not? I really commend these folks for going to the extra mile for their pony and getting him the education that is going to set him to be a wonderful partner for a darling little girl. I am honored to be a part of that. My own Ringo . . . well, you guys have read about him, and some of our adventures together. I'd not be who and what I am today, without him, for better or worse! Ringo, after having to move his adorable little feet around, pretty willingly, really, also got to meet a power greater than himself, in the form of the tie post. There were a few temper tantrums, but he quickly learned that pulling on a rope halter is not nearly as comfortable as those wide nylon ones that give him plenty of base to work from. Tiny pyrotechnics turned into a pony standing, hip cocked, tail swishing gently, just like the big kids.

Great day at the barn, and if it doesn't rain me out, will be another one today. We'll work on all four quarters reaching equally, forwards and back. Getting that arc in the body with all things working as they are supposed to, leaves no room for brace. No brace, no buck. That's a good thing. And now, the sun is shining, the clouds have passed, hopefully in Plattsmouth as well as Omaha, and it's time to head for work!

Tales of a gypsy horse trainer

2010-04-01T13:51:00.018-05:00

No, not a trainer of the Gypsy Horse, though I'd not mind (Gretchen?) but a trainer who is essentially a mobile limited operation, living out of her vehicle, dog, and horses in tow . . . a gypsy who is a trainer of horses . . . At least that's what I got to be this past week, and man, did we have a good time!

A lot of you have followed our adventures prior to and post the move to Omaha. We've been in three barns, with potential for others, have had praise, love, shame and doubt heaped upon our heads in relatively equal measure. It's been a exercise in maintaining equilibrium, that's for sure. The ones that matter to me, continue to believe in me, and that's what keeps me moving forward.

Back to the "we" pronoun. We taught a clinic in February . . . and took away a very valuable learning tool. It's too damned cold to teach OR learn a darned thing in February in Nebraska. Probably won't do that again!

Got invited to demonstrate Anywhere From Here Foundation Horsemanship at the Nebraska Horse Expo. All three days in the round pen, demo'ing attaching the feet to the reins. I don't think it was fascinating . . . A friend once said horse training done right is like watching paint dry, and I'd have to agree, the best of it is no dust, muss or fuss. It's done in small, subtle, simple pieces and the casual eye will miss it, even an experienced one like mine, unless the changes are pointed out, as they occur and the brain just cannot get to the mouth fast enough to get that done. I did the best I could, and the horse was in a better frame of mind on Sunday than he began on Friday, which, as much as wowing the crowd would have been nice, being right for the horse is always the goal. I met and spent quite a bit of time talking with Richard Winters, who is a really fine horseman and I'll be adding him to that list of names I study. Watched his excellent colt starting techniques and his demo on Four Part Harmony . . . it's entirely worth checking out.

I got to take a private lesson with ranking dressage rider Matt McLaughlin while he was staying at Chance Ridge in Elkhorn. That was incredible. I was very pleased I could keep up with his instructions, to some extent anyway. I'd get so focused on him (you think horses are herd sour, try people, HAH!) that I would miss my mark, or he'd give me praise when I got something done, and I'd beam, it would all fall apart and "Terri, that looks AWFUL, go back, do it again and don't let it fall apart this time!" I was using Hawkeye, my Paint gelding who tends to turn into spaghetti under pressure and I was really impressed with his try and willingness. "You'd have a better balanced horse if you were a better balanced rider!" Says Matt. Sigh. Hand me a tissue, I'm okay . . . But really, as another friend reassured, is that not true of all of us? When I am better, my horse follows suit. Yep. I can live with that. Nothing for it, but to continue to improve!

We (I am going to skip around like that, English majors, deal with it!) came to Omaha, six horses in our herd. I am now down to two, and only one of those came down from Sioux City. Ginger has earned her spot, even though Spring fresh Ginger would make a really nice roast, the one I have the rest of the year is priceless. She is rising to her job of clinic demo horse, lesson horse for beginning AND intermediate riders, and colt pony girl with calm and aplomb. Plus, she's not hard on the eyes and smooth as silk to ride . . . and she'll pack my husband (to whom she actually belongs) on those occasions he should desire to ride. (I have promised to give advice to him only when asked, unless I see his near and impending death . . . we'll see how that goes )

The other horse . . . a three year old AQHA gelding I picked up at the Woodbine Saddle Club sale in Avoca a couple of weeks ago. Halter broke two days before the sale, this young fellow has worn a saddle pretty much every day since, traveled the gypsy caravan and even had his first ride, a day or so back. This is my "no excuses" horse. He will have no baggage, save what I give him. He will be everything I can help him to be, and I hope we make the team I have been looking for, my entire life. I said so long to Hawkeye and Chica at that sale. I still have a hitch in my stomach, thinking about Chic. She landed well, I liked the guy who rode her off bareback, grinning at me while he rolled her back off the fence, getting along just fine. She's been my girl a long time though, and at least I gave her enough start to get through the rest of her life with success. Dunno about Hawkeye. I had him pretty jacked up, and he did not show well. Wishing you the best, Hawk, you're a good boy, underneath it all, wish I could have done a little better for you, but it is what is, and it was time to move on.

In my travels, the horses hung out at Chance Ridge (thank you Cindy and Burton) and I got to spend some time up in Blair at one of my best friend's in life's place. Colleen and I go back aways . . . late 80''s even. We have had our share of good times and bad and plan to have plenty more. We survive the wrecks and support the triumphs. She is truly what good friendships are all about, warts and all. We rode some, played with the colt and brought him further along, culminating in Colleen putting a very successful first ride on him before I made my next migration to our latest new home, the Log Barn Stable, down by Plattsmouth. Great place, check it out. http://www.logbarnstables.com/ .

About the dog . . . We also brought dogs along, from our acreage in Sioux City. Dogs that had a perfectly fine life, running the large mostly fenced yard (Zan) and now have to adjust to city living . . . They are doing pretty good, but the one who struggles the most is unsurprisingly, the Border Collie/Aussie cross, Axel. Young dog, lots of energy, he sees the four foot chainlink fences around our yard and that of our neighbor's as excellent agility obstacles and loves to go visit. This is not going to work out. Fast cars and city people make bad combinations for even a friendly dog. I have to be able to take him with me, or he's going to have a tough time here, completely not of his making and not remotely fair. We had a week of bonding (my heart closes quickly and opens slowly, it seems and Zan left large pawprints to fill) and we are the best we have been yet. There is nothing much better than the love of a good dog, and cuddling with him on the couch in Colleen's guest room was a highlight of my week, funny as that may seem . . .

Taught a clinic last weekend in Elkhorn at Chance Ridge. Polar opposite from the one in February and not just the weather. I went back to my commitment to make the change in the horse, show the owner the change and what it means and then introduce them to the concepts that made the change. There is no way, in the course of one day or even two that I am going to be able to give someone the pieces to a puzzle I have been putting together for over 35 years. What I hope to do is show some differences and light the fire of desire for a better deal for the horse than the one he showed up with. I saw the changes in the horses, and the owners did, too. I know they all would have liked to have gone home, able to do it all, but that is not the way it works. I have caused myself and others a certain amount of frustration, trying to short cut the learning process and now I smile and say, if you got a piece, you have more than you came with . . . come back for more. That's what I did and what I continue to do.

Gypsy is home now, at least for awhile. We are well set up at the Log Barn, April's training horses arrive this week. I'll begin teaching lessons next week, my horse or yours. Can't wait to get back to the business of doing business, as I know and understand it best. Me and that horse, putting those pieces together until it makes sense for both of us. There is another clinic in Lincoln, a two day affair, which is a really good deal. Takes the pressure off all of us to get the message in a matter of hours. This let's you see the change, go home, soak about it, come back and work on it again. If you are interested in a spot, lessons, or training for your horse, please let me know. Love to have you.

Timing, Feel & Balance - Clinic Report

2010-02-16T07:20:00.019-06:00

Last Saturday we held the event I had euphemistically titled "Winter Warm Up." At least we had double digits, and once I figured out to close all the doors, it was almost tolerable inside the arena. I'd had this idea that once the sun came up, it would flood us with warmth, love and illumination. Like a few other preconceived notions I brought with me that day, I was wrong.

I had five brave participants, weather be damned they were willing to work with their horses, open their minds and see if I had anything to offer as far as how to get things done. I set up obstacles in the arena, each with an array of advancement possibilities as after having some rather advanced riders show up at my clinics, here and there, I want to be able to teach each to their level of ability, not overwhelming anyone but not letting anyone stand idle and bored, either.

All of the material I present is about learning how to communicate with a horse in such a way that it make sense to the horse. That communication is effected with timing, feel and balance. I talk about bringing up the life in the body to get to the feet which then reaches the mind. I learned that from the late great Mr. Ray Hunt, and it's as useful a tool as I know. I teach my clients to learn how to bring their OWN life energy up and down as the situation requires, and sometimes you have to be emotional agile as any Cirque De Soleil acrobat in order to create the response you desire rather than reacting to the one you are getting.

My goal is to make a soft change in the horse, and then teach the student how to make those changes. I got to see people learn the joy of trusting their horse, and see the gratitude of the horse on the end of the rein. I got to see good relationships get better, and happy lightbulbs went on, most of the day, for many, including myself. I use a variety of techniques, methodology and games to help the students realize what the horses already know, how to move into and away from pressure, applied by the horse or the person in charge. I teach that the release is where the horse learns if they are even in the right ball park or not. No release, no lesson.

All of my clinics also have lessons in them for me, and they are sometimes not the ones I have gone looking for. I know my style of horsemanship and training methods work. I develop the highest caliber of horses that I have, ever in my 30 years of working with horses. They generally go about their business in a calm, businesslike manner and are a pleasure to be around and to handle. I have learned to look for the soft eyes, the relaxed neck, the pretty free way of moving that comes from a horse who enjoys his job. Everything I do builds to that end. I see it every day that I work with a horse.

Becoming adept in communicating these methods to my fellow human beings has deeply challenged my feel, timing and ability to balance my emotional energy. I let my horses learn through running into their own resistance, finding reward through release and I teach that. However I also teach if you apply too pressure and the horse is overwhelmed, they will not learn. They will attempt to fight, or flee, and they will be upset. I find it is very much the same with human beings. Once the horse seeks release from pressure, I teach to respond with lightening quickness, rewarding the horse for the slightest try, affirming that they are on the right path, and doing the right thing. Horses want to feel safe, secure and confident in the leadership that is managing. We aren't so very different, are we? A hand heavy on the line creates the brace we seek to avoid, ill timed release confuses the horse, and we don't get the lightness and response we are looking for, the anxiety builds on both sides and the fight is on.

Through teaching, I have discovered the heavy hand, the ill timed release, and the misjudging of where to stand emotionally is once again, a large challenge for me as an instructor. Knowing when my students are reaching a threshold I would never ask a horse to blow through, taking the time it takes to help my students break down the techniques into small, manageable portions that make sense not only theoretically, but in practical application, this is taking me back to school, once again, myself.

I didn't wake up one day and think hey, this is how you do things, in the area of horse training. I have spent years testing the information I have seen from other clinicians, experimenting myself on different methodologies, even to the point of stopping my horse mid-step because my brain was whirling and unable to get my thoughts through to my hands and definitely not to the horse! Teaching clinics is every bit as challenging and maybe more so, than training horses. For one thing, I would never in my life even conceive of the notion that I could train a horse in a day. Never. Yet, this one day format has become very accepted and popular as a vehicle for transferring information.

In the course of a day, I attempt to teach philosophy, and psychology as it pertains to the nature of horse and human relationships. I teach how to handle a horse from the ground, establishing a "bubble" of personal space. I teach people to be aware of where their bodies are, in relationship to the horse and to be aware of who moves who's feet . . . and what means. That's in about the first 15 minutes.

From there, it is a whirlwind of how to control the parts of the horse, using as little pressure as possible but being willing to build to as much as necessary. How to lift a rein and move a foot. I introduce the idea that we exaggerate our motions to teach and that the goal is soft, invisible refinement, a flowing partnership that delights both horse and human. I teach how to settle the upset horse, not to ask them to blow through a task but to access the thinking side of the equine brain, acknowledge and accept the job that's being handed to them.

It's a lot.

In the afternoon, we saddle, and ride through the exercises that were taught in the morning . . . if it works out that way. I don't have anyone ride on a horse I view as unsafe and I had one of those on Saturday and that participant didn't get to ride, but got to practice bringing her horse down off a high by calmly moving it's feet, establishing leadership, trust and respect.

The hardest lesson of this particular day, for me, was that I let a different participant struggle far harder than I would have let any horse. I blew her through thresholds of comfort that I would never have pushed a horse through. My feel, timing and balance completely stunk for this client. I did not release to the slightest try on the part of my client, did not back up to the step where things worked, as I would have advised, had it been an equine student. The result? Built tension until things broke apart. Fortunately, for me, it wasn't a horse I was relentlessly pressuring who would not be able to object with anything but a physical explosion. Been there, done that, suffered the broken bones and physical wounds as a consequence. The human being is able to make choices and when that person had enough, it was enough. She voted with her feet and left the event.

I have never had anyone walk out on a clinic before. I have never allowed anyone to become that upset, lost and miserable before. I had to really process, just as I have had to review ugly days in horse training to see what the heck went wrong with the picture. My first reaction? Blame the client, of course, same as once upon a time, I blamed the horse. Well, that does not work out. It doesn't teach me anything, nor does it give me tools with which to avoid future similar situations. As I firmly hold the belief that I am responsible for my side of the communication, be it horse or human, and that the only side of the street that is my business is the one I am standing on, I took a good hard look at how I would have felt, had the shoes been on the other foot.

The horse the client was using belongs to me. Our beloved Ginger had a bad day. She was herd sour, antsy and disrespectful from the word go. I know this is a powerful, dominant mare, and my thought had been she would challenge my client, who I felt had the skills necessary to bring Ginger to a place of quiet respect. The horse wasn't having any of it, and rather than detaching from my agenda, being quick on my feet and emotionally agile to the situation, I clung doggedly to my course. Had it been myself, in a situation where I was using someone else's horse, I would not have cared how good they said the horse was, "usually." I would have let my own eyes, my own sense of what was going on tell me if the horse was good for me to use or not. Had the person in charge not respected my opinion, my own faith and trust in that person would have been very damaged.

Life is too short to put yourself in danger and I am the person who is the best judge of what I am capable of, and while I am willing to let someone I respect push me beyond my comfort zone, there are limits and places I will not go until I know I am absolutely ready. It does not matter that someone else might feel I am completely safe. If I don't have that belief, I am not, until something is done to reassure me and show me I am okay. I teach that if the horse says things are not good for him, then they are not, and it is my job to turn things around until the horse agrees we are in good space. I did not get this accomplished for my client and it does not matter whether I think I tried or not. The job not done is the job not done. I also did not respect that very basic instinctive value on the part of the client and the damage is done.

We do not have physical wounds to heal, but there are emotional ones, and they are painful as well, and take a very long time from which to recover. I am taught, once again, to keep my words soft, as I may have to swallow them, and some thoughtless remarks on my part are coming back to haunt more than one of us.

I have broken down the confidence of a horse through my errors along the learning curve, and it's a lot harder to put it all back together, once it's broken. Most of the time, through effort, willingness and hard work, it's possible. Human beings are tougher. You can't put one in the round pen and say, okay we are going to be here until things are good for us again. You can only try to be for that person what you would want them to be for you, hope for best, study your lessons, go on and try not to repeat the same mistakes, too many times, too many places. It takes feel, timing, and balance. The only way you get there, is practice.

Is this a good commercial for riding an Anywhere From Here foundation horsemanship clinic? Perhaps not, but it's right, it's real and it's what is happening. Over the course of time, trial and error, I have learned how to make things very good for my horses. Slowly but surely, it is also becoming good for my students but not without some bumps on the learning curve along the way. I am grateful to my friends who support me, help me be able to give "both eyes and both ears" to a situation. I am not in charge of the lesson learned, I am not in charge of the journey chosen for anyone else but myself. I am continually reminded that while I might have ideas about what the day holds for you, and how best things might go for you, should I be in charge, it is very good that I am NOT, and that what you have to learn is really not my business, after all. We each do our homework, and what's learned, end of day, can only benefit the one doing the learning. In my shoes, that's me.

Knocking the Dust Off

2010-01-17T07:56:00.006-06:00

Figured it was about time to drag this thing out, knock the dust off and give everyone a quick update on what's going on at Good Hands.

First thing, we no longer reside in Sioux City. It started with a disastrous mess in our farm house and no sign of repair any time soon. We cast about in all directions, looking for a horse place that would keep us in the Tri State area, and when none was to be had, our eyes roamed south. Options came and went, and we are nicely settled in a place in Omaha. My grown kids live here and 20 years of friendship has proven nice to come home to. The horses started at one barn, with me also training at another and picking up some residential clients along the way. We are off to a good start!

And then . . . much drama at our north barn and we have to rethink our brand new plan. That barn is closing and while we have been offered the opportunity to take it over, it really is not the right time for us to leap into such a venture. Ironic, as if the place had been available when we moved down here, we'd be living there now, but leases are signed and much can change in a matter of weeks.

Fortunately in the midst of all this, Steve and Lisa at the Papillion Equestrian Center opened their arms and a pen and made space for me and some of our horses. Other friends are making room for two more, and as soon as I can find a ride for them, they'll be in Lincoln til what comes next. I am looking forward to training, giving lessons and holding clinics at PEC, what a lovely facility!! I am relaxing my "no travel" rule, as there seems to be a demand in this part of the world for instructors who will come onsite, and as long as the client has a decent facility to work in and understands that time = $ including travel time, well, I guess it's a new world all the way around and I can be a little flexible!

Our next planned event is an Anywhere From Here horsemanship clinic planned for February 13, 2010. After this brutal winter, I figure a winter warm up is in order, and I have several clients interested in brushing up their skills on my horses before taking them home to their own. Quite a few riding spots are spoken for, and I only take 10, so please let me know asap if you are interested. Auditors are unlimited, of course.

I am taking reservations for training horses for the 2010 season. I have access to indoor and outdoor arenas as well as a very nice, safe round pen. Your horse will be kept in a large, airy box stall that is cleaned daily. Plentiful quality hay is supplied, if you want grain, you bring it, I'll be happy to feed it. The horses will be turned out daily in addition to their work time so it's not all work and no play which doesn't do well for anyone, horses and people alike. My ride schedule will be Tuesday through Saturday, and your horse will work a five day schedule just like I do. This will enable me to stay on schedule, and your horse will come home ready and willing to go to work for you. Owner lessons on that horse are included in the cost of training, and strongly encouraged. This is a heck of a good deal!!

Making this change does requires a herd reduction. I will be offering my cute little Solid bred Paint grulla mare, Hershey, for sale, and my black Quarter Pony, Chica. Contact me for details if you would be interested in more info. I'll probably get updated photos and blog on each of these, later on down the road. Hawkeye is for sale, too, and he's really come around into a nice, nice horse.

A tough and hard note in the middle of it all, what to do with Jack, my rescue horse? I wish I could afford to pay board on a horse who's only return to me is likely through the heart and while that counts for a lot, it would mean a saddle horse would have to give up their place and that does not make sense. In another day, I could find a place where someone just wanted the grass down and find him a cushy dig where no one would ever ask a thing of him again. That day is not this day, and we are overrun with unwanted horses. Jack has had enough. I can't hardly see setting him back in the world to take his chances that some one may, and most likely, completely unintentionally, abuse him ever again. This is a great young horse that should have been someone's bold, kind, never for sale at any price kind of good gelding. It's a crying shame.

There are many people facing tough situations right now, and anything we have going on pales in comparison to those poor souls in Haiti. A little perspective sure can change the way I look at a day. Hope yours is looking good to you, and until next time, this is us.

Back To School

2009-08-16T09:21:00.003-05:00

doesn't mean to me what it used to when the kids lived at home. The anticipation of the new school year, the mad rush to get clothes and supplies together . . . to make sure the kids were as properly prepared for their next adventure as I possibly could . . .

Now I am still working on proper preparation, but the kids are on their own. Hopefully some of the stuff I tried to teach them stuck, but like most humankind (all of it, that I know of) they will best learn from their own experiences, and then can engage their education and make their best choices as to what next. Doing the right thing has to be individual choice, learned not forced.

This is a horse training blog, not child rearing, so how does this apply? Well, I am still working on proper preparation, only now it's for myself, and my horses, rather than my family, although the principles I have learned from good horsemanship tend to cross over really nicely. Through my experiences of handling hundreds of horses since I got my first pony at the tender age of 2 1/2, my education studying other people who have handled even more equines than I have, a philosophy of engaging willing cooperation from my horses in all aspects of their handling has been born.

Believe me, it was not always this way. I changed up because what I saw happening, in person attending clinics, watching dvd's, taking lessons from people I admire, and talking to the clinician's at Expo and wherever I could showed me methods that are faster, safer and more effective than what I was doing, previously. I could be from Missouri. I am a "show me" kind of gal.

Ever since I got a buttermilk buckskin filly for my 7th or 9th birthday (who can remember that long ago) that acquainted me with dirt flavored toothpaste on a regular basis, I have had a desire to turn out gentle saddle horses that don't want to buck you off in the process of getting them there. That journey has taken me a lot of places. I came from the old "show 'em who's boss" school of thought that has translated into being the right kind of leader. A horse that respects you will trust you, and one that doesn't, don't, if you follow my drift. Trust, respect and confidence in each other are the building blocks I use to get everywhere else I want to go with a horse, and I do it that way because people who are better at this than I am have taught me so, and my horses continue to teach me.

I have the honor and priviledge of being able to teach a couple of horsemanship clinics this Fall, and I am thinking hard about how to present the tools that I employ. It isn't so much the methods, themselves, or the bits, or the ropes, the sticks and the strings. What matters is the underlying approach and the mindset. That it's the little things that create the big ones, positive and negative. That horses don't compartmentalize, if they run over me on the ground, they will think it's perfectly okay to ignore me in the saddle and why shouldn't they? What changed just because I managed to scramble aboard? That if I set their feet while I am handling, grooming and saddling and I allow them to yaw and wander around, why should I be surprised when I go to mount, or want to stop along the trail, and pony continues the behavior he's had all along and steals steps to get where he wants to go?

Little things . . . allowing a horse to acknowledge my hand before I sling a halter on them. Working out jumpiness and stiffness when I find it, coming in from the pasture, instead of waiting til I get to the round pen or the trail or the show ring . . . Fixing what I find when I find it, and not blaming the horse because he has a different idea of what we are doing than I do. Where does the responsibility for communication between us lie, anyway? Him? Is it his idea to come in from the pasture, his buddies and that good sweet summer grass? Strap on a wood and leather contraption, place a bit in his mouth and pack around . . . well, more weight than he would have to on his own, let's just say that! Nope, it's my idea. Might be nice if I take responsiblity for it.

Since I have bought into that basic philosophy, things have really changed around here. I like the changes. I like the soft eyed horses I ride, I like the fact that anything around here that's broke will go down the road without much fuss. If you remember (those of you who keep up with this thing, LOL) last Spring, I ran into what many of us do, a Spring fresh, herd and barn sour crew that cried, wanted to stay home, return home, and were not a lot of fun to just jump on and go with. Once upon a time, I'd have corrected that problem with the ends of my reins and a handy set of spurs. Would it have worked? You bet. Will I still let a horse know in no uncertain terms it's not okay to run through my hands, legs, or ignore my cues, you bet. Does that sometimes involve a snap of a rein, or letting a horse find a poke in the side. Yes, absolutely, if necessary. I just don't start there, and often don't ever have to go there. I do what it takes to get the job done. Ray Hunt used to say to offer the horse the good deal each and every time you ask something of him, and now I do. Once they figure out you mean it, and you will reward and release them as they reach for it, it's amazing how much easier this stuff all becomes.

It's been a good summer, and we are not quite done yet!

Looking for the Changes

2009-07-25T23:11:00.002-05:00

Nope, not talking about moving or personal development, this one is pretty much back on track with horse training :-)

Right now, I have a scheduled set of horses that I am riding as close to every day as jobs and weather will allow. Both of those are being generous and I am getting quite a bit accomplished with my crew. I have Hawkeye, Skipper, Sadie, Slippin in the line up for sure with Hershey and Classic on deck. I'd rather sell Classic than Skipper but I have started riding Skipper and I am not getting off again until I am happy with where we are at. If she sells because of that, so be it, I've got to both reduce headcount and inflate bank account, and that is life as I know it.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand.

People often ask me how long I ride a training horse in the course of a day's work. I can't remember what I do tell them but what I want to say is however long it takes to make a change. One day last week, I was riding Teri's Sadie, who is a quick, stocky reining bred QH mare, and she was having a very hard time figuring out what I wanted. When she did make the change, it came really well. Her mind and body totally relaxed and I knew we had accomplished something good. I'd only been on her about 30 minutes at that point and called it good. The day before I rode a lot longer and got less of anything that mattered. Making the change is what was on my mind today and I was determined to pay attention and not miss it!

The morning started in a fine way, with me sleeping in, missing both a call from my farrier, who fortunately came later, and a prospective customer, who bravely came anyway. I am in my jammies, haven't yet had my first cuppa (and we all know how THAT can be) and this lady is knocking at my door . . .

It went okay. She is looking for a really broke, ride down the road, do most anything kind of horse, and I already sold him. She knew that, but came anyway as she may want me to ride a horse for her, plus she wanted to see what else I had for sale.

It was a great opportunity to start with Skipper. After I showed her to that gal, and we both agreed Skipper is an extremely nice horse who showed herself very well (the lady said she would never have known Skipper was not the "broke to death" she was looking for had I not told her different), the customer left, and I rode Skip again. Something at the back of the pasture really had her bugged (in fact, at the end of the day, when I turned her back out into the grove, she was running back and forth, snorting and staring back there, eyes white and tailed flagged. Very UN Skipper!) and she got the most hot and bothered I've seen her with me on her. Head would come up, the tension would just rise up off of her. I would bend her and ask her to come back to me, mentally and physically, and she never really did. It was hesitant step after hesitant step, bunchy, jerky, fits and starts. We worked the figure eight's, never turning away from the side that scared her and when she'd soften, I'd ride away, she'd grab her butt, and we'd have to start over again.

It smoothed out eventually. I had the idea I might have to "ride her til I liked her", but it didn't take all that long and a change was made. It wasn't perfect, she wasn't as soft and quiet as I would have liked her to be, but she stayed under and with me. Tomorrow, I will warm her up a little more, ride in the round pen first, and then we will graduate outside and see if the world looks better to her. I really want to jump start that mare to being where I want her to be, instead of allowing her to be where she is and grow from there. That would be a bad mistake, and could cost both of us. Tomorrow, I will do a mix of getting us OUT of the round pen, which is entirely timely and necessary but not causing her to lose confidence and blow her mind.

Hawkeye and I are not working in the pen or pasture at all. We are heading down the road, and today, that felt like a job kind of on the scale of cleaning the bathroom or doing the dishes. I wanted him to ride straight out, and for whatever reason, he was just not feeling it. He whinnied, he wandered, he tippytoed, tender footed, having just been trimmed. I decided to go back to not making a big deal of anything I don't want, and ignored his cries. I rode him in the ditch beside my gravel road which is worrisome as sometimes people throw junk and you can't see it in the tall grass but it was easier on his feet. We took what I used to call the "short ride", down my gravel road, turn right at the street, cross Buchanan and down the dead end. It's about a mile or so, and I thought it would be a decent short work and get something done without eating the day.

For the heck of it, as we are striding along, I jump in my saddle and yell "boogie, boogie." I thought the danged Painted fool was going to buck me off. He threw up his head, startled, skittered forward . . . geez Hawkeye, all that for that? So, I boogie boogie'd him a lot, til it was annoying but not worrisome. Then, I slapped a mosquito on his neck and he jumped at that. More slapping. Rump, my legs, his neck. I've done some of this stuff before, but you have to complete a thing to have it done. That might sound really obvious, but if you start something with your horse you have to make sure you are not leaving them in doubt, (quitting while the horse is still bothered leaves them in doubt and makes it worse next time). Hawkeye is what you might call a left brained horse. His responses are more on the inside until they leak through on the outside in a big way, and it's easy to miss when he is bothered. Today, the change I was looking for was for him to get okay in his skin regardless of what I was up to, up there. He's not a spooky horse regarding what's going on in the world around him, it's his rider he's learned not to trust or listen to, and that's what I have to fix. Slowly but surely I am getting to the bottom of what is going to be a heck of a really nice horse.

By the time we were ready to turn back down our lane, I did not feel we had made enough progress. He was still leaning through my leg, in the direction he wished to be going (how i got a hella bruise on my shin courtesy of a tree from him a few weeks ago at Stone Park), still leaning heavily on his bit, and still crying for company, although not as much, that. The highway overpass is about a half mile down the road the other way, so we struck out for that. I was not thinking on trying to ride him under it. That thing scares me when the motorcycles and semi's rattle over it, and I am always fairly sure my horse will lose it's mind, scrabble madly about, either fall down on me or run me into an oncoming car or some such disaster. Such a thing has never come even close to occurring but that doesn't stop me from thinking about it.

I am tired of him wandering about and we start riding boxes and I am picky about moving his hip out of the way before he makes the turn and crabby about him falling through his shoulder when he thinks he's heading for home. Hawk gets his feelings hurt more than his ribs, but he does run into a spur a time or two, or ten. He runs into his bit and finds out he has to back himself out of the problem instead of turning into a bent spaghetti noodle behind the pressure. We do this most of the half mile. It takes awhile. Now we are riding some sweet ovals around bushes, I am setting his feet on a path, left here, right there, move your hindquarter Hawkeye, soften and back off that bit, atta boy. Whenever he leans on his bit, I catch him and hold until he softens and shifts his weight back. The very instant I feel that about to take place, my hands go from iron to butter, rewarding his try and teaching him, over and over again, how much nicer it is to be light . . .

We get to the bridge. What the heck. We ride under it. He's a little worried, but more about the tire marks on the street than the stuff crackling overhead. I have to sing myself through there to stay loose and okay in the saddle. We mess around on the other side, ride a box or two . . .dropping your shoulder into the homeward side really makes more work for you, Hawk . . . and come back through, zero incident. As usual, I am more scared of the overpass than the horses ever are . . .

Coming home, we get to lope some. We are far enough away, and he's not chargey. I have to hold my phone pouch with one hand as the velcro is shot . . . Hawkeye, don't you dare buck . . . He really hasn't offered to, except when he got a little hoppy at Stone Park when I wouldn't let him go tearing off with some other riders, but I watch him close. He doesn't offer to, now, either, and we have a nice lope up the way. We still have to back and soften a couple of times on the way home, but for the most part, when I reach for a soft feel, I get one from him and he can hold it without dropping his whole front end on it. His ears are up, and he's quiet. He has more to think about, just now, than where his buddies are . . . It's a nice change. Hope it sticks.

Teri's Sadie mare went down the road today too. She's a talented athletic little thing, and I'd love to put some reining training into her, but that isn't really what Teri needs me to do. They are going to sell this mare and the best thing she needs to know how to do is carry people nicely out in the world. I have enough handle and ride to feel safe on her, so it's out we go. Not too much bothered her, and we did some of the same softening and backing when occasionally she'd trot through my hands and attempt to take matters into hers. Coming home, it was head down, loose rein, felt nice. Big ole apple picker truck comes rattling by, it's worth an ear but that's about it. I am feeling good about her and tomorrow, we'll go further.

Slippin was the rock star today though. Top of her class last year, she's headed there with a bullet now, too. Bridled her up, pretty easy, just had to let her move her feet first, and then ask her to bring her head down to me. I never chase them to bridle, never ever ever. Did her usual groundwork with her halter, letting her wear the bridle and remember what that feels like. Slippin is like a good dance partner, doing groundwork. She had a little worry to her, and that worried me. Not that I thought she was going to do anything out of control or naughty, but I want that happy, open look she can have when she's having fun with what we are doing. I slowed WAY down, did some "friendly" work, slapping the stick and string on the ground, til she could stand and let that happen, sent the string all around her body, and waited for the lick and chew. Not so much. Hmm, worry lines and unhappy face still there. Hmm. I walk away from her, casually swinging the string in a figure eight in front of me. She follows hesitantly at the end of the lead. Pretty soon there is no tension there, and I can feel her feet freeing up and her body getting loose. I hear the big lick and chew, we are there.

Riding her today was a BLAST! This smart little horse remembers so much of what I taught her last year it isn't funny. Hip over, shoulder through, from the saddle, did some friendly from up there and that got the feet moving. Okay. Let's trot around a little then. She was moving good, so I slapped my leg, just a little. Sure enough she picked up her lope. Scared her a smidge, and I let her pick her trot again. Around we go and I ask again, she picks it up and we lope and trot around the pen. I bend her to gently bring her to a stop, as she's getting on the worried and scooty side. We turn, go the other way, walking, then trotting and pick up the lope again. There's some fear in it, it's a little grabby and not smooth, but at least she doesn't want to buck her way out of it. I was 99.9 sure she wouldn't, it's just not her. Trotted some more til she felt okay, then brought it back down. I went looking to see what all she remembers. Pivot on the rear, really quite nice, not much sidepass but a few lateral steps . . . tucks her nose and backs up sweet. Not bad for third ride in almost a year . . . Biggest and best change, in her, though, were the sweetly relaxed forward ears and the nice way she greeted me when I got off, head turned in for her atta girls. That's what I wanted to see.

The grulla mare, who I adore, and once again, did not ride, came clear across our grove when I called her name. I am so gone over this mare, it's ridiculous. Just the look on her face when our eyes meet is change enough for me, with her. I do plan to ride her again, tomorrow, though :-)

Winds of . . . What?

2009-07-18T23:30:00.005-05:00

For those of us with this particular affliction of horse addiction, there is just something soothing about sitting the back of a good horse, even if you aren't going anywhere in particular. When you and your guy head out of the drive and the only future you want to think about is the immediate one framed between his ears, it takes the edge off the sharpest day. That certain something is the gel that's been holding me together through a certain amount of fairly knifey days. These are trying times for many of us, and I am not holding myself out as having anything more difficult than anyone else . . . it's just . . . difficult. Thank God for horses.

There's been a lot going on up here, hence the lack of blog posts from me. What was looking like time to move is looking more like time to hunker down and settle in. I have more than a drop of gypsy blood and have walked away many a time when it looked like the winds of change might blow a little rough. Not the best habit to develop, I am like a horse that flees at a sudden loud clap, without realizing it was just the sound of the feed bin banging shut . . . Now I am examining a different way to go. Not much more expected of me than to do what is right, and what is right in front of me to do . . . Might not make sense to you, but it's sure starting to make some to me, and probably not a minute too soon.

Horses have come and horses have gone, some expected, some not. Sold my good Donovan to some wonderful friends who will give him a kind and loving home. They will appreciate his sweet, slow moving nature and not try to change him into something he isn't meant to be. Funny, how in our little community, different horses are sifting around and finding new homes. I am going to miss Donovan, but I won't miss the upset and worry on his face when I ask him to pick up that walk for heaven's sake, can we PLEASE get there, TODAY, d'ya think?? He stopped nickering at me several months ago. I knew we were headed down the wrong road but it took some other circumstances to make me willing to let him go, and it's for the best all the way around.

Training horses have graduated and gone home. Rode beside little rock star Ella this evening, going down the road barely over her 30 days with more aplomb than the gelding I was on. In his defense, Hawk's not seen much road riding and he did okay. You just can't compare him or most other horses to Ella. She's unreal.

Knosie girl grew up and turned into a saddle horse. She's a real testimony to hard work paying off and validation of me sticking to my commitment to not rush the horse and bring them along on their own schedule. Her graduation ride was at Big Elk Park, out of Macy, NE. (if you haven't ridden there, and you like to trail ride, you need to . . .) She pulled on a pair of big girl panties I didn't know she owned and gave me one of the most fun rides I have had all season. Those of us who ride a lot of different horses know that feeling when you first settle in the saddle on a broke one. There is this solid feeling under you and you know you could ride that horse over the Grand Canyon if you really felt the need and probably survive. I brought Knosie that night because I had procrastinated getting her out on the trails for weeks. I didn't think I'd run into anything worse than a possible flinchy scoot here or there, but most Wednesdays, I just don't want to work all that hard. Stepping up on Knosie, I felt that unmistakable feeling . . . I was on a good one. It held true all night, over hill, dale, logs and slippery limestone, that filly kept her head together, feet under and rider on top, no flinch, zero scoot, including when I had some crawly thing roll down my neck, jumped, screamed and flailed like a goofy little girl. I have photos from a day down at the barn in Moville, it was her next best ride before this one. She was her same calm self when her owner came to take her home. Good to see. I might have liked her a little more technically advanced but I sure cannot complain about the change between her ears and that should set the foundation for the rest of her life. Plenty of time, in there, to learn the fancy stuff. She's for sale and if you want more info, let me know and I'll put you in touch with her owner.

Have new horses in . . . Slippin, Knosie's half sister, who was last year's rock star, is back, and if possible, even cuter than last year. She's no taller but even more filled out. What a little brick!

Sadie, who belongs to my friend Teri, (Ella's owner) is here for a 30 day refresher and to get her ready to sell. This mare has Highbrow Cat ON her papers (hmm, am I lying? It's one of those reining giants, anyway, I'll have to check). She doesn't turn out as broke as the horse trader who sold her said she was (love those guys) but she's a really nice mare and with a little more education, she'll make someone a super nice little horse. They have purchased another horse, more suitable for Teri's long legged daughter, and now this cutie is an extra.

Last but not least is a grulla mare I brought home to settle a debt. I am not sure she will work for the person I brought her home for but I am thinking she might work for me. I know . . . I have a penful out there . . . all needing riding . . . she does, too. There is something else that happens sometimes between horses and the people who work with them . . . it's that loud, resounding CLICK when the time and the horse is right . . . She might be mine forever, for awhile, or even a few days, as the person I owe a horse to has first right of refusal . . . We'll just have to see about grulla mares and what the future holds for us all, here at Good Hands.

"A Man Convinced Against His Will . . .

2009-05-30T15:44:00.009-05:00

is of the same opinion, still." That is a quote out of Dale Carnegie's How To Win Friends and Influence People book. No, I haven't read it, and yes, I probably should. It's a paraphrase from a guy named Laurence J. Peter. The point is, there is no winning side to an argument.

Seeming segue, down the street on the way to Arron's shop is a church marquee. Right now what's been on there for quite some time is "truth is not taught, it is lived."

Both of these concepts spring from the same vein, and I have been giving them a lot of thought lately. Yes, toward, you, my fellow human beings traversing the planet with me, but of course, WAY more as it effects my horses.

I made a comment in another post about the wonder of Jack, my rescue horse, acknowledging me of his own free will and volition and the change that made in him. A few people were puzzled, didn't he already know me? What was the big deal about him recognizing me, that way? I meant to get across the wonder of him reaching for me, and letting me know that I am part of his world. It wasn't that he suddenly discovered me, it was that he brought me in, instead of me reaching for him, and putting myself in HIS space.

I know Colleen Hamer taught this idea at her clinic, awhile back, and I teach it at mine, too. The necessity of getting a horse to acknowledge those things in his surroundings that bother him, whether it's an obstacle, water crossing, a saddle, or whatever. A frightened or unwilling horse can be made to do just about anything he thinks he absolutely has to . . . The horse says, "I Am NOT Okay With THIS! I Do NOT Want To DO This!!" Sometimes there is bucking, sometimes rearing, most of the time, the horse, under lash and spur or just continual urging, will eventually go forward, tear through it, and the rider thinks they've got the job done, because "we made it, finally, didn't we?" Nevermind that the horse is completely refusing to look at the scary thing, blows through, eyes shut, nose pinched tight.

That horse might cross the obstacle more willingly next time or not, but the resistance will show up, again, somewhere. Guaranteed.

The same goes for trying to reach the mind of the horse as well. I used to go out, keep my halter and lead close to my side, get up to my horse and get that rope around his neck as quick as possible before he could scoot away, and I'd have to spend more day chasing him down. I didn't realize how rude that was, and how it set up our relationship from the very get go. I have a dvd of a benefit Ray Hunt put on, there are all kinds of well known names riding in this, first in the colt starting clinic and then in a horsemanship demonstration. At one point they are trying to catch these unhandled young horses, and Ray remonstrates with a guy. "Wait for the horse," he tells him, "let him come to you." The guy leaves his hand available to the horse (all the while looking very doubtfully at Ray), and sure enough, the colt finally turns, LOOKS at the guy, noses the hand, and the fellow is able to catch and go on with him. It sets an entirely different stage for their process than another guy who ropes his, gets it caught and you later see that colt bucking it's head off, a little further into the process. Do they both get their colts rode? Probably. Which one would you rather buy, end of the day?

Wait for the horse. Fix it up and wait. It's taken me a long time to get a handle on this, more truthfully, it's taken a long time for me to have the patience to give it a try, and the willingness to believe it's worth the wait. I'd rather DO something to the horse to get the result . . . but a horse convinced against his will . . .

As far as the catching part goes, there are exercises to teach your horse to hook up with you. How well it goes is your report card for how well you communicated with your horse that being with you is better than not. For those of you who read my blog, you know that my Percheron/Arabian cross, Moonshine, has handed me steady D's in this department. At long last, in the SMALL pen, she watches me, ears up, the moment I come out of my door (and not always at feeding time), she will walk to the gate to meet me, and if I am going somewhere else, she walks along her side of the fence with me. This is nifty, but frankly, I have little hope it will stay with her, once out in bigger spaces, just yet. She has been through a series of trainers, over the years, that all attempted to put their ideas on top of hers, and she's having no part of it. I am making gains with this lovely mare. Once upon a time, as soon as she heard the door open, her ears swept back and she headed for the furtherest corner, back turned. 'Shine rides nice, and has a lot more faith in my leadership once I am on top than she does when it's time to leave the pasture and the herdmates. I will continue to move forward with her, and continue to wait for her and that's how we'll get there. It will occur to her that the things I do have meaning, and that I am a good, consistent and worthy leader, and she will look to me to take care of her when the wolves approach.

It's so not about the catching, the buddy sour, the barn sour, the trailer loading or any of the other symptoms that we run into that tell us the mind of the horse is not with us. A guy named Marty Marten has written a couple of really nice books, they are through Western Horseman, and are Problem Solving 1 and Problem Solving 2. In the first one, Marty gives all kinds of neat solutions to reach the feet of the horse, first from the ground and then the saddle. In Volume 2, he names a bunch of symptoms (in response to reader mail, I am sure . . . "this is good but my horse won't ____, what do I do about THAT?") Marty states, do exercise ______ as listed in Volume 1. If that doesn't work, try this, and then he'll give another nice alternative to go to . . .

Most of the horses (all of them?) on my place are here because they ran into trouble, somewhere else, to some degree or another. I get to see, first hand, what happens when a human tries to force a horse. I get to experience, first hand, how much longer it takes to fix them than it does to build them correctly from the ground up, in the first place, and unfortunately, how quickly the fix can be undone when the horse is placed back in circumstances that remind it of where it came from, in the first place. I have spent a lot of years rehabbing and selling saddle horses. It is a joy to me that on a lot of the rides I go to, events I attend, my alumni are there, and doing well so it is not all doom and gloom on my side of the river.

The ones that do not do well, break my heart. It's one of the reasons I have slowed WAY down on the outside training and trading business. I do absolutely understand that not everyone shares the passion for understanding the horse the same way I do. I really get that some people just want to get on and enjoy the ride. Horsemanship, like any sport, requires a certain amount of education, practice and discipline to get any kind of enjoyment, decent results and at a bare minimum, safety. I think there probably is an okay middle place between the person who saddles up their horse once a year for the big trail ride/social event, and those of us who spend most of our waking moments, thinking, breathing and dreaming about horses and why they do what they do. Darned hard for us humans to put down our ways of coloring everything we look at with our ideas about how they do or should respond to us, what they think of us, and who is going to WIN.

Working horses yesterday, I wanted to fight. My fabulous and wonderful Australian Shepard, Zan, was hit on the road a couple of days ago. One minute he was by the round pen, with me, the next he had run down, unbeknownst to me, to bark at the neighbor's truck as she made her way home. He was barely out of our drive (too much, off the property) but she was deep in her thoughts and did not see him until she hit him. He died upon impact. I wasn't going to share this but I am a writer and processing through my keyboard is what I do. The rage, the pain, the incredible sorrow at losing this dear friend of mine is lacerating my heart. When one of my mares, who is a saucy wench anyway, wanted to bow up and argue with me, I started to resort to the old "you will see it my way as I am kicking your fat butt all over this land" way of thinking that used to be so much a part of me. It lies under the surface, and when I am wrong in my spirit, comes leaping to the fore. As I felt Ginger's surprise at my harsh hands, giving her little opportunity to respond before twisting her some other way, I made myself let her soften. When I picked up my rein again, asking for her hip to move through indirect pressure and she did not do as I wish, I did not growl, or kick, I did not yank. I stayed methodical and even, until I got the response I desired. Thank God it was Ginger, who is not easily offended and is quick to forgive. Had I lost my temper with Moonshine, I imagine it would be a very long time before I got met at the gate again.

Ginger, being the great mare that she is, gave to me everything I asked for. I didn't cry into her mane, again, did the other day, as she wrapped her neck around me in what I think of as a hug, but I patted and stroked her neck and thanked her for being who she is and helping me remember who I am.

Rest in peace, mr. zan puppy. i will miss you forever. i am so sorry i did not keep you safe.

More Fun Than Ice Cream

2009-05-29T11:41:00.006-05:00

. . . thinking about yesterday, I have a smile on my face and a glow in my heart. Day sure didn't start that way, as some of you know with the whole can't find my id for the Bomgaar's drug test thing. Did find an acceptable form of id and spent the entire afternoon at the clinic getting that deal taken care of. That part was not more fun than much of anything except I did get a wild walk down memory lane in my fruitless search for proof of birth and identification. (among other things, I found some photos of me from . . . 1984 . . . yeah baby. Nope, not gonna be seeing them, here you won't . . . )

Had all that crappy congestion in my chest again when I got home and went down for a quick nap before riding (where's the fun part, says you? This doesn't sound like fun . . . ) It all got better about 20 minutes later, dogs exploding in stranger danger warning . . . Not an axe murderer, turns out, just neighbor Teri come to see her filly work.

I rallied, like the noble get 'er done kinda gal I wish I were, and saddled Knosie and Ella.

Did Ella's groundwork out in the barnyard. This is a super quiet laid back filly and I'd like a little more impulsion in her gaits at this point. I don't want her hot and jumpy, that would definitely be a wrong result but she does need to move. I worked with her, getting her to reach equally with all four legs and lengthen her stride without speeding up the strides. This is hard, and she really didn't see the point, much. I have watched Buck and some others "drift the hind" while doing groundwork and under saddle. Watching Missy, she explained that the hind needs to travel on a slightly larger circle (I tend to get more bend through the ribs, and that's not wrong but more bend slows a horse rather than lengthens them, makes sense, huh) than the fore but all four legs should be reaching equally. This sounds more confusing than it is, when you can actually see it happen. Says me who was utterly confused by the concept until . . . I saw it happen. Now I get it.

The thing is, it's not only what happens in the body, as it relaxes, stretches and starts working properly, but the mind of the horse engages as well. I talk about how the mind can't work without some kind of physical manifestation, well, it goes the other way too. When the body is working properly, you have the mind. Through the feet, to the body to the brain. That's the way it works.

Ella's brain is not far away at the worst of times, I am not completely sure what her worst of times even look like. This is one of those once in a lifetime horses that wants to please from the tip of her nose to the end of her pretty long black tail. She is the easiest little horse I have ever ridden in my life. We were laughing about how young horses like this make a person want to go out and buy a truckload . . . kind of like having an easy baby first. You have another one with that false sense of security "what's so tough about this" and then hellspawn arrives.

Once I got a little more try and effort out of that sweet girl, I mounted up and rode around. We played on the hillside, letting her feel a rider's weight as she learns to negotiate up, down and sideways. Rode out in the pasture, headed toward the bridge, but I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted her to go by it or cross it, dunno, I was stuck in my head, it happens, and so we kind of stopped in front of it. She looked back at me like "if you are going to drive, please decide where the heck we are going!" Okay fine. We circled the bridge, came back at straight and with purpose, and over she goes. Stop in the middle, pet her, on again.

My life energy was pretty low, I was happier about being outside, but not feeling the best and she dogged out right along with me. We went into the round pen to open up a trot and get some life stirred in us, both. The round pen instead of staying outside because that is the most level spot with the good footing, and Ella doesn't need to lose her confidence slipping around on the grassy hillside while I try to wake her up. Counterproductive in spades, wouldn't you think?

She jogged around like a little pleasure horse wannabe, and nothing wrong with that if you are asking for that. I wanted forward motion. I want a horse to be able to reach out and really extend that trot. Then, when I want them to slow down, they need to be able to do that, too. I started asking for lateral flexion, moving her hip over and really asking her to power out of the turns so as to build the impulsion and movement. Ella felt a little off to me, we just had her trimmed last weekend, but I have never had a horse come sore after Scotty does his work (yes, I have forgiven Scotty, he is still the best traditional farrier I know for setting up a foot that isn't going to be shod). I stepped down and sent her around a little. She flew! Not listening to me one little bit. Apparently, I was not the only one frustrated with our process, she was just too polite to say so, until now!

When she could turn in, face me, and drop her pace back to a trot by listening to my body language on the ground, I could see her stride. There was something, maybe, but it was tiny. Teri and I both thought she could still work, as neither of us was even sure we were seeing anything at all. You know how it is when you have a really good horse, you DO want to take stock in the bubblewrap factory for fear of some small thing turning into that fatal big thing.

Riding her now is a lot more fun (yes we are getting to the more fun than ice cream part. I really do try to get back to the point of what I started. There are no guarantees and sometimes it's a circuitous route, but I do try). She trots out with a much longer stride, not dropping her shoulders, and keeping a decent, light flex to the inside. This is not just her nose pointed in or her neck bent that I am talking about but a flex all the way through her body. We have to pick it up, sometimes, and I might need to weight my outside stirrup a little to keep her rounded out but she has so much willingness, she follows as I lead. When I don't pay attention, she doesn't either, and that gets my head back where it belongs, on top and not off wandering. When the horse is not responding the way I want, the first thing I need to check is me. Am I asking the question correctly, and is it even the right question in the first place?? It's not the horse's idea to be out there, doing that work, so once again, it is my responsibility to carry the communication and be accountable for the results.

We are really enjoying ourselves now (both of us have ears up and smiles on our faces), but Knosie is saddled and waiting her turn. I ask Teri if she wants to ride the filly while I warm up the Knos. We have decided 30 days on Ella will be fine as Teri has another young horse she'd like some time on as well. I won't normally start a colt for 30 days anymore, it's hard to get enough done to make it stick when they go home if they need halter broke and the whole nine yards, in the beginning. So many owners are really not prepared to go on with their young horses after 30 days and can get in a lot of trouble if they don't have their education as well as the horse. This filly is a special case and Teri knows what she needs to do to follow up. I'll send her home with happy confidence and besides, I am right here when and if they need me.

Knosie isn't looking as happy and relaxed as I would like her to . . . but that changes quickly as her body warms up. She gets a little scared, doing her groundwork and is trying to back out of the pressure. I stay easy, go with her, and keep asking for forward motion. I step away from her as the direction she was backing, it presented a squeeze for her to have to move forward past me and she was very worried about that. Giving her a little more open space, without releasing the pressure to move forward, did the trick. When she found the right answer, moved forward, the pressure came off, and her ears went up. Nothing bad happened to her for giving me an answer I didn't want, I just kept asking til I got the one I did. Then came the release and the praise. Most young horses really need help to build their confidence. She's one, and her appreciation when you get there with her is really obvious.

While I started with the buckskin filly, Teri went on with Ella. We are building lateral movement, and had a few decent sidepass steps, using the fence as an aid. Teri calls for my attention, I look up and she and Ella take three very sweet, correct sidepass steps to the right, out in the middle of the pen, all by they onesies. I grin, ear to ear. That's awesome!! Teri says she thinks she skipped some steps, but I told her you know how you know if you do it right? It works!!

Hmm, Ter? I say, do you care if I ride in there, with you? She didn't mind, and this is where the real fun begins. It's all good stuff, working with these young horses, putting the pieces of the puzzle together to help them find themselves and develop as willing partners, but me being as ADD as I am, I like to mix things up, keeps me entertained, and gets the horse trained as a by product. (well, glad you are enjoying yourself, says my clients, whose dollars are hard at work here . . . )

Ella is bottom on the totem pole and a couple of times that they've been together, Knosie has picked on her a little. Whenever we'd come by (Knosie mounted up and rode off like a saddle horse, geez, this is a nice filly!) she'd pin those little ears and look as defensively fierce as she possibly could. I am firmly of the belief a horse needs to depend on it's rider to protect it, not feel the need to use it's own hooves when under saddle and I asked Teri to correct the problem.

What to do? Well, as soon as those ears sweep back in that angry position, boot her. Thump her good. She isn't going to buck or bolt or do anything naughty and if she did, Teri knows how to take her hip away and shut her down. KEEP booting her until those ears pitch forward. Even one, even a little, then STOP. We did this for a few turns. I'd work small circles (asking for lateral flexion in motion, getting Knosie softer and more responsive in the bridle, powering out of the turns, keeping the shoulders upright, still doing my job on the horse I am on) and when we'd be on Ella's side, she go into defense mode, Teri'd do HER job, and Ella figured out a) she didn't NEED to take care of her own self, and b) Teri wasn't going to LET her either.

The trick, I tell my friend, once you cue for a response, do not quit til you get the try. Whatever you release to, that is the lesson learned whether you mean it to be or not. Don't wait until she has done something wrong to correct her, do it WHILE she is, don't wait to release her til AFTER she's done the right thing, release WHILE . . . it was darned cool watching them work things out. It really was not that long before Knos and I could trot by, fairly close and Ella would stay calm, relaxed, ears up while Teri praised and rubbed her.

We rode joyously until the dark almost caught us and Teri had to dash home to shower and get ready to go to work. There are days that take minutes off your life, and too many of them. Days like this give them back.

Ella is going to Stone Park next week for her graduation ride and Knosie is going to Turkey Creek the week after. This was excellent prep work for these young horses to understand there will be other horses with them, behind, in front and passing them, sometimes at different speeds than they themselves are going.

Today, it's pasture riding. I keep saying I am bringing in my saddle horses to pony from, and then other stuff comes up. Today is the day. Teri is husband free for the weekend and will be back over when she gets up (night nurse). I will have both fillies well warmed up and we will ride the pasture, and maybe the roads a little. We can trade off, one of us on a saddle horse, the other on a youngster and then back again.

This is the part that is more fun than ice cream and anyone who has ever met me, knows I love the good gooey stuff. Arron spent the evening raking and building our fire ring over where we took back the jungle by our bottom pen. We have some old hay, downed wood, all kinds of stuff to burn, and after dark fell, we sat in our lawn chairs, ate some cold dinner and watched the flames and the stars. The dogs thought this was a pretty good time as well, they chased imaginary dragons and then lay at our feet in happy exhaustion.

I am not sure it gets any better than this.

Particular, Precise, Patient and Persistent

2009-05-27T07:00:00.003-05:00

Hah, you'd think I am channeling Pat P again with all the P words! It's what's been on my mind lately. to be particular without being critical, precise without nagging, patient without boring my horse to death with inattention, and persistent that I stay in the game and support my horse until his tries for an answer to my question hit home.

As usual, the stuff of my blog crosses over into other areas of my life as well. Any of you who live on an acreage know exactly what I am talking about when I say the amount of work to keep one functional is amazing, and to keep an acreage looking nice in the process can be staggering. I am one to ride when all else fails, or when nothing else fails, so it's mostly up to my husband (he volunteered for the job) to do the outside maintenance around here. After three and a half years, he has admitted he bit off way more than he knew what he was biting into and needs help. My first reaction was "hey, I told you I don't do yardwork (or windows, or dishes . . .the list could grow) from the very beginning." Then, I look at our beautiful place, slowly losing it's edges to the ever encroaching weeds (why can't the pasture grow even half that fast???) and I know it's time to pitch in and lend a hand.

Being all those P words, plus a little pissy, too, at the start, I manned the push mower whilst Arron mounted the rider (Chrissy, we still owe you for that darned thing and I want you to know that is not a forgotten debt although it must seem like it by now! Christmas is coming, hon). Why does he get the rider? Well, we can't have those money making tattoo machine running digits sore and swollen from bucking a resistant lawn mower taking on the mutant weed crop, now can we . . . I mowed the easy parts, the hard parts and the ridiculously hard parts. At one point, I am pushing that thing up the little hill by our drive and thought my feet might slip out from under me, and the thing roll back and chop me into pate. Well, just be quick about it, says a small voice, then I don't have to finish mowing (and he'll be sorry, too, won't he. . . scraping my icky bloody remains off the mower so HE can finish the job!!)

Okay, enough of all that, this is a horse training blog after all, not a whine about doing what I need to do blog. The benefit is, this morning (why I am awake so ungodly early, I have no idea but here I am, and no one to talk to but the dogs who are outside and you guys.) I am looking out my window at a lovely well manicured yard, even mowed up under the gorgeous white blossoming bushes, have no idea what they are, and my beloved lilacs which are making a good comeback from that early killing frost last year. It was well worth the effort.

Which brings us to horses (at last, says the ones of you still with me, thought I never would, huh). My two training fillies, Ella and Knosie, tops on the priority list. Due to a really awful cold (yes, I was thinking OMG, I have it, I have SWINE flu!! I didn't . . .) I spent a few days in bed and not in the saddle. Knosie was lukewarm about the riding thing, last effort, and sitting a few days could have no good effect, in my mind. One of the things she showed me when my son was on her is that her gangly three year old legs and body are still not real connected to the brain between her ears, and she gets stuck and unconfident relatively easy, even doing groundwork. It's a natural fact, then, that she would also get stuck, under saddle, and amp it up a little with some fear and confusion about that top heavy weight up there (easy, folks, I am on a diet, for heaven's sake, I am talking people are top heavy to horses, in general!).

Pretty much by accident, shortly after we moved here, I discovered working horses on an incline affected miracles in some of the broncy ones. That is when I started paying more attention to why they were bucking in the first place. They'd get off balance, get stuck in their minds, get scared and buck out of it. Working on the hillside helped them collect themselves, use their bodies better and they gained confidence. Can't take credit for the idea, as I have few flat places to ride here and was mostly wishing for a nice level arena at the time, and would never have learned this valuable lesson, so good thing it wasn't up to me ;=)

So, Knosie did her groundwork on the hillside. I wanted proper circles, her not pulling me off center or causing me to travel around after her, an even cadence to her gait, proper arc to her body, the whole nine yards. I asked her to do the job, at an easy jog to start (this is not new for her, we walked at the very beginning) and once her lopsided ovals smoothed out, and she tired of running into her own resistance when her nose would get off track, I asked her to pick up the pace. This was much harder for her, but she tried, and we gained. Meantime I watch her eyes soften, she isn't wanting to leave, is looking into me, asking what comes next. I don't nag her to death with my requests, I tell her, set her to her job and leave her alone to get it done. (wow, wish I'd known this stuff when I was raising kids. It DOES work on my husband, by the by, don't tell him I told you! ;-)

I used some other exercises in the round pen that Sherry Jarvis introduced her colt starting students to, a different sort of synchronized riding from the ground than I use, and I like the sound of it and the results one gets. Starting from Knos's left stirrup, I bring up the energy in my body and ask her to move forward, as if I were in the saddle. She has NO idea what I want. A light touch with the training stick I am carrying that acts as my leg on her side and we move forward. We had some figuring out to do, to make this work, and it was an excellent preview of what the ride would be like. She was predictably jumpy on the right side, and when it smoothed out from the ground, it was smooth from the saddle as well. I asked her to keep pace with me, not run ahead or lag behind, to walk when I did, stop when I did and back up when I did. Again, all those P words. It was not terribly long, before all this was happening and she went from a tight, turned off worried look on her face to ears forward, open expression happy and interested, the same transformation I saw last Fall, and I was sure happy to see it arrive.

Riding was fun. I passenger rode her at first, asking only that she continue in the same direction we started. I didn't care if she walked or trotted, and she walked out with a fine, swinging pace but didn't volunteer anything faster. I changed sides and it was non eventful. Picked up a trot, also easy peasey. Had to ask a little and she was a little slower and hesitant at first, but lengthened her stride, of her own accord and felt really super, under me. I started picking up the reins and putting my legs on her, moving her hip out of the way on the turns This is where we had finished up last year, moving hip over to the left and then leading the shoulder through to the right, and vice versa. She got pretty light and supple, was following her cues like she did this yesterday instead of what, October? Stopped on one rein, then weight pressure, then with two reins, and asked for the back up . . . left rein, left front, right rein, right front. I was just delighted to see that these things still had meaning for her. We quit there, and she really make me smile when I dismounted. She turned her head to me and softly put it against my stomach. We stood there for a little bit, I petted her neck and told her I absolutely remember why I loved her so much last year. I am thinking we'll get some really nice stuff accomplished from here!

This had started out, in my mind as more of a Jack blog, but then it's all of a piece. I am being particular with him as well. Fixing as I am finding. We do a lot of this, he gets really afraid coming through gates (can you blame him?) and I am sending him through a lot of gates. I've done this from the beginning, and the improvements are there, but small and odd. At one point, when he'd get scared enough and not want to back through, he'd rear and strike a little. Not the slicing gonna cleave my enemy kind of a thing, but a timid "will this make you please stop asking me this??" No, it didn't. I have learned to pay attention to the behavior I want, and not get derailed with that kind of distraction. He might have to move his feet, not as punishment but to unlock his brain with motion and then back to the gate, and he'd always go through. Now, I almost never see that rear, but did yesterday evening when he got upset over the line pitched over his back and couldn't back out of the pressure. He rears about six inches off the ground, front feet carefully curled under him. Now, don't think I am an idiot and not aware those feet can come uncurled faster than I can see it done, I am fully aware, it's just a difference, and one, now that I think about it, has been in place for awhile.

Also. NO STRESS FACES yesterday. That's a first since rodeo day, and before that, too, but particularly since then as I have been asking more of Jack to build that emotional stability. I didn't even realize that until I was laying in bed, going over the day in my mind. No stress faces. Wow. We did some stressful things. I am asking him to back softly from halter pressure, nose down, chin in as he ought to. This is very difficult for our Jack, and he has to dive out the back often before he can settle and try again. A step in the right direction, right arc to the body, right softness in the face gets release. Nothing else does. I don't increase pressure, or do anything to make it harder for him. I just patiently persist and if he needs to run into his own resistance, I allow him to do that, just as I allow him to release himself when he comes off of it.

I have watched a lot of people work their horses, and they are doing way more work than the horse is, people's bodies are moving all over the place while the horse watches in bemused confusion and kind of moves to get out of the way. The more I learn, the less I move, and the more my horse does, and the more he moves, without me having to, the softer it all gets.

End of the day, I turn him into his pen and he leaves me before I can leave him. This will not do. I step to his side (I am about 15 feet away), kiss to get his attention, and step back. I have taught him to come to me with this set of cues. Jack stares at me with questioning surprise. He thought we were done! Nope, done when I say done, my fined hoovied friend. He does quite nicely take several strides my direction, starts to waver, looks away (when I lose his eye, I make noise to stimulate him and get him back. If he'd have to leave, that's okay, I'd help him go, then I'd help him come back again.) He chooses to come in the rest of the way. I stand, back mostly to him as he walks slowly up to me, nose out and friendly. I do nothing, let him acknowledge me, I smile and walk away. Jack stares after me, like okay what the heck was the purpose of THAT exercise . . . his ears are up and he watches me all the down the drive to where my husband smiles too. Get used to it, Jack, he says, if you aren't by now, she does things like that.

I really am having doubts at this point that Jack will ever be mentally healthy enough to have a job in the world, other than the one he has right now. He is teaching me to observe and pay attention. To stick to principles he can't survive without, and that other horses (and mebbe some people) will benefit from even more. He's teaching me the value and the reward of doing something without a real goal or agenda attached to the end of it, the joy of a successful moment. I don't know what the end of his story will be, well, I guess I couldn't, not without dusting off my trusty crystal ball and I don't know what box that's still packed in . . . I can't know the ending to any of our tales, but I can refer back to success being the quality of the journey, can't I. A well cut lawn and soft eyed horses may be the measure of no one else's success but my own . . . but hey, I'm the one writing the story!

Sometimes Things Don't Go As Planned . . .

2009-05-17T10:23:00.010-05:00

There are no photos to go with this blog. I had my hands WAY too full to worry about where the camera was. Had I had it, I'd probably have some award winning action shots, or possibly a broken camera . . .

On a list serv I am on, we are talking about training methods and what happens when you tie something to the saddle of a horse, and they cannot get away from it. The approach and retreat is gone, no way for a horse to get release. Can set the stage for some horrible, dreadful events. Still, there is a place in time when a thing must be tied to a horse, it's his saddle. One would think, with that proper preparation that prevents piss poor performance, and getting the horse ready to saddle before he ever wears one, that would be a non event, and normally it is . . . but not always.

I have seen people create horrible fears and pull back problems in their horses, releasing at the wrong moments, when the horse is scared and having a problem. In a perfect world, we'd never blow through a threshold, never get our horses to this place. I don't know a horse person or trainer alive, and I know some pretty darned good ones, that have not found themselves with more on their hands than what they bargained for when they step across those lines, usually by accident but sometimes you have to take a horse to the hard places in order to ever get to the good ones. Once there, it's pretty darned important to work through the problem. A horse left in doubt today is a horse convinced tomorrow and probably not of a darned thing we want him to be . . .

This brings us to yesterday, the events that unfolded and the reason for this post:

Jack stood tied to the tree just fine, that's a non issue for him now, it would seem. He digests information in very small doses, but when it does get through, it seems to stick. I have done saddle prep with him several times, including holding a rope around his girth to let him feel that. Took him into the round pen yesterday, worked circles with him. His forward motion is pretty broken, he'd learned when he ran, he got tripped and when he gets worried he really doesn't want to move. This is foreshadowing, folks, and is telling you what happened, later on. Sticky go means sticky whoa. That might be the most important thing you learn today. It was the most important thing I learned AGAIN, yesterday.

He did pretty good. Not perfect. My agenda was to see him saddled. Yes, I said agenda. These are important things to pay attention to. I knew that if I ran into trouble in the process, I'd need to readdress my goals but that's where I wanted to be, watching Jack with a saddle on. In my prep to saddle work, I accustom a horse to things going over his back, banging on his sides, noise and clatter. I use that string of milk jugs to start with and with some approach, retreat and release, he carried them around, slung over his bareback with a fair amount of calm. Set the heavy bouy's up there, no problem. Got the saddle blanket, he's used to that.

Now it's time to introduce the saddle. All this time, it's been in the middle of the round pen. He has thoroughly checked it out, acknowledged it, smelled it up and down. Approaching him with it in my arms got a big eye, but he sniffed again and stood calm when I set it up on him. For a horse like this, I pick up my off stirrup and cinches as to not freak him out with a sudden bang on that off side. I have no wish to wear 1000 lbs of scared horse like an unwieldy hooved hat.

He looked at it on the near side and I let it sit there, took it off, walked away with it, came back, set it up again. Had him acknowledge on the far side. Let the stirrup and cinches down. This got a little flinch, but he'd been thoroughly rubbed, down his sides and legs and a little touch there and some noise was no big deal. He was soft eyed, at this point, and the process looked good.

Now we come to the point. The point of no return where the cinch is drawn up and fastened. TONS of approach and retreat, letting him feel the cinch, a soft fat neoprene, touch his belly, little pressure, release it when he breaths, relaxes, and then up again a little. When that touch was no big deal, a little more . . .

Here's what I did NOT do, at this point. I didn't move him around, just holding the latigo on the cinch to make sure he could handle it with movement. I did that before with the rope, but not just then with the saddle. Saddles feel a LOT different than a rope does. A normal horse rarely needs this particular breakdown, but this is not a normal horse and I know that there is no such thing as too many steps for Jack. This might have saved us the wreck that followed, might have got my head kicked off my shoulders.

Fastened the latigo, just snug enough to keep the saddle on. Fastened the back cinch though a little voice in my head told me not to. Didn't do the breast collar as that same voice, louder now, says you might want to have as little to undo as possible if you need to get this off this horse in a hurry. Let him stand, feel the saddle, breathe. Sent him off at a walk. He walks a couple of steps, pulls a bow in his back and hunches. I gently ask him to move on. He BLOWS! That 14' lead is NOT even close to long enough. I drop it and get the hell out of the way.

He bucks around me for awhile, kicking and crashing into the panels. My heart sinks, he's totally out of control, and anything can happen now. He shuts down, stands, comes out of it, freaks and blows several more times. Breaks a panel, which now has dangerous points coming off of it. I have got to get my hands on him before he kills himself.

I run to the barn, get my 22' foot lead. Aren't you thinking I should have started with that? I sure was . . .

He does let me approach him, unfasten the 14', and fasten the 22'. Would you have tried to unsaddle him, just then? The thought occurred, but a) I didn't want to pull it off of him with him hating it the way he was, no way was he done with wanting that thing off of him, and b) I did not want one of those flying cowkicks to rearrange my smile and possibly my thought process. I want to keep my horses safe, but keeping me safe is number one.

I let him stand and blow. He looks better so I ask him to move forward again. He backs into the pressure. I ask him to move forward again, and now he's backing and kicking at me, with some pretty good intent and energy. Well, okay. Let's go backwards then. Didn't do that enough. Don't know why my brain was so stuck on forward, but it was. He'd move forward, blow, buck, run like crazy. He let me keep him away from the broken panel so I knew he wasn't totally insane and he even let me shut him down a few times when I grabbed the rope that burned through my ungloved hands more than twice.

Biggest error of a day full of them, towards the end, I had him trotting around, big progress and instead of hanging there, and letting him trot the bunchiness out of his back (there are some of you out there still reading that have heard me say trot the buck out, a few times, no a LOT of times). I really wanted those feet to loosen up, stuck feet are a stuck mind, and I wanted him free. Well, he got free all right.

In that last explosion, he did blow through the broken panel (the top rail ended up in the pasture on the other side). Now I think he will go through a very near by fence that still has some barbed wire on it, hate that stuff and we replace it as we can . . . He doesn't, turns sharply and dashes madly toward the back fence of the property. This is not much to speak of, strand of barbed, and a hot wire . . . I figure he is in it, or over it, through the plowed field and be headed for the highway. Nope, he turns at that, too, and blows down toward the neighbors. That fence is really good, cable and hot wire, I figure we are okay there, and we are. Now he's coming up through the trees, still bucking mind you, he's got some determination, that horse, and some "athletic ability." Horse sellers terms meaning that horse can REALLY buck . . . if anyone tells you a horse can't run at close to top speed and still buck PRCA proud, I invite them to come watch this one . . .

He flies past the barn and through the open gates into the safety of his pen. I shut that gate, but this is not a huge improvement. My place is so not set up for rank broncs. That pen is wire panels, hot wire . . . and t-posts. Most of them have plastic protector tops, but a couple are missing. I am pretty sure I am going to see my horse impaled, after all we've been though, as he continues to buck and bolt, up and down the pen. Donovan, on the other side, cuts him like a cow. Even in my adrenaline drenched mental state, I notice him flatten his ears and threaten Jack, every time it looked like he might come through the fence. I think Donovan was scared that maniac might attack him but he kept him off the fence, nonetheless. Eventually the stirrup caught on a post, the billet broke and he jumped through the back cinch like a lion through a burning hoop.

Far from done, he's still trailing the 22' foot lead and kicking the snot out of it any time it touches him, he continues to run. Finally, the rope snags under the empty plastic tub I keep their loose salt in. It's on it's side and doesn't weigh more than a few pounds, but he yields to the pressure and circles the tub. He's kicking air now, sometimes the fence behind him and sometimes the nearby innocent water tank (don't you put a hole in that, damn it!) and as disturbed as I have ever seen him. This goes on for a long time. I wonder how badly he's hurt himself, he has some minor scrapes on his legs from the panels, and I can see blood on one front leg too. He's standing sound, and doesn't seem to be in too bad a shape as long as he's not injured internally from the saddle pulling on him before the billet broke.

Long enough story short, he's okay. I eventually went in (had other horses to work and it didn't hurt either one of us to take some cool down time from each other) picked up his rope and asked him to talk to me. All during his melt down, he would look for me and want to come to me. No way do bucking, freaking horses get to sit in my lap and I would not let him. Now, he was unsure. I got to pet him but he was bunchy and tense. Frightened horses are dangerous horses. I pulled the back cinch off the saddle, better late than never, right, and folded it in half. I used that to rub the sweat off his bowed up neck, and got him to relax some. Worked him in some circles, there in his pen, hey his forward motion is much better, sigh. Been nice to have started with that. Fortunately we both get to live and learn.

I thought a lot about this situation, as of course, I would. To do over? I'd have much, much better forward motion established. I'd have him better able to handle his emotional stability under pressure. How to do that, you have to put more pressure on them. I thought I'd put enough, but obviously not, when push came to shove. I'd have him fluidly working over the obstacles, like I do just about every other single horse that comes to me in training. I took longer putting saddles on my colts last year than I did Jack, yesterday.

Will Jack ever be a saddle horse? Who knows. It's back to the steps above . . . Am I putting both of us in danger, continuing his training? That is the question I am asking myself, right this very minute.

Then to Now

2009-05-10T10:54:00.008-05:00

Success is in the quality of the journey. That's not a new thought for most of us, but it's what I have been focusing on, lately. Not just for me, but for the horses I ride, the clients I teach and the friends with which I am fortunate enough to share the trip.

As a lot of you know, I received my first pony, Ringo Star, for Christmas the year I would turn three, he was six months old. We "grew up together" and I still carry some of the scars, and a heartful of memories. When I was 9, my folks (who could not have liked me much) gave me a buttermilk buckskin two year old filly for my birthday. She was a "cheap kid horse." Have some scars from her, too. One sunny day, some years later, a big ole truck n stock trailer comes winding up our narrow County country lane, a horse trader who'd heard there might be some stock for sale up that way.

That day, I acquired Cisco, a grade sorrel gelding, flax mane, tail, all the chrome. That is a tale all of it's own, but I'll tell you in this one that trader drove away scratching his head that he was leaving with less money than he wanted to, none of the horses he came to see and a 13 year old girl was walking away with the horse he'd had on his trailer. It was my first unassisted trade, with many to follow. I was thoroughly bitten.

We had, besides that bunch, a motley collection of saddle horses, one of which was a tall black bay Thoroughbred mare with a bad temper at shoeing time, and a tendency run off with whatever hapless rider was up, the bigger the bit the better, she said. That was the dam of my barrel racing horse, who inherited her temper, and her speed. He was the first horse born on the place and we made all the mistakes with him we could think. At five he was considered an unbreakable outlaw, couldn't sell him, wasn't ready to eat him. I started riding him secretly in a back pasture and he became one of my first "miracles." A few more of those to follow too but not so much thanks to me as to the teachers that started showing up.

What I had was a burning desire to have something better with my horses than I had. We showed in our local saddle club shows and play days, I had shelves of trophies, and an unquenchable urge to be first, whatever the cost. I had to whip and spur my game horse, Cisco (who knew so much more than I did, to this day, I wonder what we really could have done, had I a clue) to get him into the arena, once there, he'd blast out, do his job and get out again, as quick as he could.

My hard to catch barrel horse had only one speed, and that was fly. I had no idea that you should gain control of your horse before you introduced speed. What a concept. Didn't know how to rate his gaits, didn't know much of anything except charge through the gates, kill the barrels (or poles) as fast as you can and hope to survive the trip. On the days we were not lapping the arena, we were highly competitive . . . til we wrecked pretty bad, whacking his head on the side of a barrel as he went down in the muddy slop too deep and treacherous for our form of the game and neither he or I saw much fun in that, ever again.

What happened that really started to make a difference, although that difference would not show up for many, many years later (sorry Reb) was a gal named Sally somebody that some "progressive" members of our saddle club brought to our small town to do a "clinic." They said, bring your worst of the worst and this gal can fix 'em. So we did. We brought the Thoroughbred mare, Pretty Girl (RIP, sweetheart) and I saw a collection of horses and people I had known all my life. Broncs, runaways, committed biters, kickers, you name it, we brought them. This was in 1975 (I think) which would have me at 15 years of age, just ripe for knowing everything there is to know about horses and any other subject you'd want to bring up.

They said she was a student of some guy that lived central of us (I grew up in Northern California, Pat Parelli used to rodeo on our circuit though none of us cared about that, at the time.) Sally took these horses and through what was revolutionary to us all, softened bracey jaws, introduced us to the ideas of approach and retreat (she used a garden hose and a stream of water on our mare, who never had to be thrown to shoe again in her life) and just a ton of stuff that I don't know if anyone else even listened to, but it changed my life, and subsequently the lives of more than I can count horses in the years to come.

She taught my best friend and I some subtleties of communication with our horses, she showed us how to "rock" them, refining our requests for motion to tiny shifts of weight, forward, backwards and sideways. We went from mostly out of control speed queens to spending hours, standing in fields, rocking our horses and giggling our silly butts off. We also collected a lot more high point trophies as we found we could do more than dash madly about the place. I got to use some of that early eduation this weekend, playing with my wonderful Donovan, rocking on the teeter totter at the Trail Clinic we attended. We went from having to take a step or two to just standing in the middle, rocking it, back and forth. I was having more fun than he was, though, and when I caught it was beginning to worry him, we stepped down, I quit showing off and went and did some other thing. Man, that was FUN though!

Coming forward about a hundred light years, I started, in the mid 90's, riding a sour, sullen colt my business partner Walt Werre had picked up while I was out of town on a business trip. I was there when the colt came to the barn, a good looking coming two year old, barely halter broke, and then I got to watch a series of wannabe trainers (mostly girls the barn owner wanted to sleep with) put that horse through misery and torture. One chick, I threatened to yank her off of him, as she careened into the wallful of horses I had tied waiting for some sane arena time. They pissed him off and taught him to buck like a banshee. I wanted no part of him, though my heart broke every time I passed his stall. He'd stand, pretty head tucked in the furtherest corner, ears back, eyes dead and angry, butt to the door, it was a tragedy and now, my partner owns him. Great, what were you thinking about? Some pleasure horse guy had been riding the colt and apparently got the buck out, so they said. We had this one and a real good looking bay to bring along, sell and move on to the next set.

In bringing Rebel back to life, I found a partner I didn't know I was looking for. Crooked legged in front, he was one of the smoothest riding Quarter Horses I have ever sat on. As he found out he could trust me some, not always, that temper my childhood horses had came from somewhere and it was still very much alive and present in me, he got softer and sweeter. I bought him.

Reb was my guinea pig as Natural Horsemanship exploded onto the equine scene. I'd watch a video, think, hmm, that's cool, think I will try that. I'd go to the barn and do to Reb what I thought I saw on the screen. I had zero idea of the underpinnings of the what's, the why's, and more specifically, the when's. It did not always work out for us, and least of all for my poor confused horse.

Now, mind you, I'd been riding horses professionally for quite a few years by now. I'd worked for horse traders, bought and sold quite a few of my own, and had worked for a well known Arabian trainer for awhile, I was no newcomer to the deal, and two minutes of conversation with me, I'd let you know that. This was the period of time I started having wrecks, as I replaced parts of my training program with other things, not really understanding the big picture yet, but using stuff I thought looked good and would be good for my horses. It took quite awhile for my hard head to figure out it was going to have to be A thru Z to get results, not A, E, maybe W and then some Z.

I always was interested in building relationships with my horses, I started my colts slow, did groundwork, drove them from the ground before I rode them and turned out some decent, usable saddle stock. The good is the enemy of the best, and my horses were good, but there were many, many that were better. I wanted to improve and this was all part of my learning curve, which got real steep, right in here, as I tried to figure things out.

Lucky for me, the one thing I did understand was that the Natural Horsemanship stuff I was watching DID work and that the part that was not working was me. I don't know why I was blessed with that particular lightbulb but there it was. I knew the problem was not the snaffle bit, it was my lack of understanding in how to use it correctly, my instinct to yank, pull with both reins with all my might and muscle my horse into biding my wishes if I couldn't get them there, nicely. I wanted zero to 60, just like I'd always wanted everything else, my entire life. Collection, NOW, thank you, and where did I put those draw reins? Or, go for my favorite tool, the training fork, I understood that needed be correctly fitted to reach the throat latch, so as to only be in effect when the head was raised and had some pretty good results with that. Giving up that last crutch was hard to do!

The concept that a horse collects by pushing from behind and rounding his back, therefore creating that pretty headset and fluid broken poll was a ways away for me, and when I found out it took hours of hard work, I went back looking for the side and draw reins again. Faster, easier way has always been my first route of choice. I created horses that looked kind of right, except they weren't breaking at the poll but a few vertabraes down the neck, backs were hollow, they'd tend to drag themselves in front and follow along in back as best they could. My horses were heavy on the forehand and I'd study Reb's broad chest and think well, he's just too stocky in front to turn around right, it's the way he's built. And then I'd stick spurs in him to try to lift him, get out the leverage bits to keep his nose in . . . They were innocent, ignorant mistakes. I loved my horse, but he paid the price for my lack of understanding.

Still, as time went on, I studied the Parelli's and did a lot of cool stuff with Reb. We got to where we could do anything we could do with a bridle, without one, including spins (as best I knew how to set them up) sidepass, lope circles and barrel patterns and we were competitive in every Trail class I took him to, except when my own nerves would go to hell and take him right along with me. A course of human events, a series of financial disasters and Reb had to find a new home as he was the only thing on the place worth enough to save it. Life on life's terms, as I understand, brings a series of lessons to the table and you can learn them now or later but the stakes get higher as you wait, and some of the lessons I'd put off cost me my horse. Chin up, figure it out, move on.

I study horses. That's what I do. I have become very picky about who my human teachers are but I learn from every horse I come across. I love my Buck Brannaman video's and get more out of them every time I watch them and I bought them three years ago. I watched with envy, my friend Colleen ride clinics and her horsemanship improved leaps and bounds, every year that she did. We are lucky to have clinicians like Buck and Peter Campbell coming to our area and my priorities are shifting from being content to watching them work with other people to overcoming my fierce stagefright and insecurities (I know, you're saying, WHAT stagefright . . . trust me, it's there) and getting out and riding with these guys. I have taken lessons from a gal named Missy Fladland when she comes up here to Sioux City, and as my friend Annette says, she's the goods. Missy is an accomplished dressage rider, and she approaches it from the natural foundation that I want to preserve in my horses. I understand the language she speaks, she teaches me things I don't know to fill in the many holes in my ADD approach to education and reinforces my commitment to what I do understand. Sherry Jarvis and Kelli Paulsen are also holding clinics and teaching these approaches and last year I took a stab at teaching a couple clinics my own self. Sherry has worked very, very hard on her clinical approach and has a very effective method of getting her message across to her people, Kelli has built a facility that is worth the trip, in and of itself and teaches the same good stuff. Me? Well, I have got a pretty good foundation in what the horse needs, now it's my challenge, if I am going to stand up with those other two and continue to teach people, to be able to give that information to the humans as effectively as I can to their equine partners.

It's been a really cool journey, and as I watch my 40's fade, I turn from that half of my life and can only wonder what the next half will bring. My horses and I will be better for it, I am sure, and maybe some other folks will be too.

My Horse HATES Big Groups!!

2009-05-05T11:08:00.004-05:00

This started off in response to a friend of mine's question about a big ride that's coming up and her horse that gets antsy in these big groups. As I wrote the response, I got to thinking I know lots of people who feel this way about their horses, and maybe this could be of some help to them too. My thoughts and answers are not the only ones out there, by any means but here is some stuff that works for me.

I always have a game plan in mind when I head out on the trail rides. Sometimes I have to adapt as the horse that shows up isn't always the one I wrote the plan in my head for, LOL! But here's the basics, I like a strong foundation in response on a horse that gets excited in groups. What I really notice more and more though, is that the horse that rides quietly in a smaller group but not in the larger is usually following owner anxiety. They might be a little high, upon arrival and feeling the activity and amplified excitement, but then, inside the owner says "oh no, here we go again." Stomach tightens, nerves tense and the horse really reacts to that and escalates, things rarely improve from this place for either one!

I am human and when my horse's head reaches for the stars, eyes are bright and dilated, snorts start rolling like thunder, I say OH NO, here we go again, and then I have to really work on finding some calm because no way can I lead my horse to peace of mind if I don't have it. That's the first part of my game plan, calm myself. I might need to do some deep breathing, send my horse around in circles from the ground, do some simple stuff that he's done a million times at home, his response to that calms both of us. Once the horse feels good to get on, head will lower, have some licking and chewing, eyes on me, I get on and again do the simple stuff, hip over, shoulder through, lateral flexion in motion (this is easier on an anxious horse than asking them to stand and flex.) Might do a one rein stop or two, just to practice and get us right. I make sure the hip steps over, and if the horse bends, and comes to a stop, but that hip is still out there, I will step it over before I release. It's really best to have my preflight check a habit for me and my horse before taking on the big ride. Then, it doesn't have to take 20 minutes to settle my horse, he knows the routine and so do I. Pat P says "proper preparation prevents piss poor performance" and I could not agree with him more on this one.

Building good habits at home is going to be the recipe for success out in the world If you haven't done so, and you find yourself at a ride with a horse that doesn't look safe and doesn't want to mentally join up with you, this might not be the day to tackle the big ride. Hoping for the best works out for some of the people some of the time, but when it doesn't, that hit to the confidence can take a long time to heal. Stay at the trailer, work with your horse, maybe ask a couple of friends to stay and take a smaller ride with you, once both you and your horse are emotionally in a place to be able to do that.

Usually by now, we are okay and ready to ride. Once in awhile, we still have jiggy feet here and there. When I feel the energy come up in the horse, I make sure I have room around and behind me, and I'll serpentine a little, step the hip over, then the shoulder, but always continuing forward. I pick up a rein and ask for a little give, get a step and release. If I have to hold it for a few steps, okay. I just want to see my horse's eyeball a little, I am not cranking that rein around to cause him to change direction or head off into a circle. Then, I'll pick up the other one, put my foot back on the offside and ask the hip to come over. Just a step is all I am asking for, and while it may take more steps to get there, it gives us something to do and something for me reward the tries rather than get mad at my "damn stupid horse that doesn't like big trail rides." :-)) again. If I really had a horse trying to get out of control, I'd probably get off, rather than try a one rein stop on a narrow trail with people around to crash into if he really resisted. More groundwork, back on, and we try again. There are some cool exercises to step the hip over, bring the shoulder through, that uses the horse's energy and they learn it's a lot easier to just walk down the trail than to have to work that hard.

I like to practice all this stuff first, in smaller groups, plus I like to have friends "leap frog" with me, which is my horse goes ahead, then theirs, then mine, until all the horses are comfortable in any position in the ride and gets them comfortable both passing and being passed by other horses. We also play follow the leader, winding around trees, going over small logs, whatever, this gives both me and my horse a bigger job to do than following the tail in front of us, which bores and frustrates a lot of horses (and riders!). If no one wants to play with me :-) I play these games on my own. Sometimes I will rate my horse's walk, ask for a faster walk without breaking gait, then a slooower one. All of this stuff keeps my horse's brain engaged, and helps him stay more in tune with me than if I am daydreaming or lollygagging along down the trail. There are some rides, I like to do THAT too, but I better pick a horse that's good with my wandering attention instead of one who will find something else to occupy his attention if I am not doing it.

The biggest thing is to catch things when they are small. Feel the energy rise in your horse and put him to work then. Don't wait til the head is in the sky, he's whinnying and yelling for his new best friend that he may have never even met before, but doggone it they are up ahead and I WANNA GO THERE! I see riders wait all the time til their horses are nearly frantic before they start trying to do anything about it, and then they usually whip the head to the side, which really pisses a horse off, when he wants to move his feet. I say, you want to move, well, cool, let's do that, but we are going to do it my way. And then you balance the release and the reward with your directions so the horse doesn't need to be angry or afraid of you.

Lots of work? Can be, but it smooths out, and the difficult trail ride this day turns into lots of easy ones as you stay consistent, your horse learns he can trust you to lead and make sense in ALL situations, and we get the benefit of learning to handle our own emotional responses a little better. THAT comes in handy, all over the place :-)

I am riding in a true snaffle at this point. Rather than go into all the reasons a tom thumb or long shanked snaffle is not going to be a good bet as a training bit, here is a link to a Mark Rashid article on the subject. Hope that helps.

http://www.todayshorse.com/Articles/TroublewithTomThumb.htm

Posting some photographs from our trail ride at Southwoods Park, Smithland, IA with the Shady Brady Saddle Club. Estimated ride count was 21, it was Moonshine's second trail ride in life. We started out slow (had a regressive hard to bridle moment at the beginning that really had my attention), and other than some big eyes here and there, lots of stuff she's never seen before, we had a great ride. I took time to ride her the night before, warm her up in the round pen that morning, and we never needed most of the steps I listed above. She's a really level natured mare and is going to be a ton of fun. The horse I am riding on the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride, Oak Creek Trail this Friday (www.horsetrailriders.com for more info) is a little different story, but hoping for equally nice results.

Thanks for reading, SOOO glad the good weather is here!!! If you love to trail ride and want some friends to go with, check out the Platte River Riders group that rides out every Wednesday evening from points North, Omaha, Lincoln and Central Nebraska. A lot of us ride on weekends too!

Happy trails, all!

Me n a horse

2009-04-29T11:54:00.004-05:00

That's what it really boils down to . . . after all the thinking about horses, talking about horses, debating about horses . . . what really matters is when it's me. . . and a horse. I have spent my lifetime with these animals and choose their company over my own species, hands down, most of the time. I got my first pony for Christmas when I was two years old, and we beat his butt with a board when he was naughty. Mine got that, too. It was what we knew and what we did. That pony never did quit bucking, and quite frankly, I am probably still naughty. I am not blaming my parents for what they did or what they taught me, they honestly did do the best they could with the information that they had at the time. The results were not what any of us were looking for, not with the horses nor my childhood, and it sent me off in a journey searching for other answers and I've been a whole lot of places looking for them.

A perpetual lifetime student of many topics, horses have been the main focus of my interest. I used to want to know how to get things done the fastest and the coolest, then later on, the safest. Now, I am in a place of wanting to know how to be the best human being for my horse that I can possibly be. I still want a horse that lopes collected, loose rein and on the proper lead. I want a horse that confidently goes where I point them, whether it's up a steep climb, across water or over the ubiquitous blue tarp. When I am saying I want to be a good human being for my horse, I am saying I want to be a great leader, worthy of his respect and faith in my ability to take care of him when the wolves come. In his mind, that's always a possibility and there might be one, just right up there around that corner. Who am I to say different and that he's wrong.? I just want him to go there anyway and trust that it will be okay.

There is nothing in the world like the feeling I get when I am working a horse, my eyes are closed and I know what the footfall will sound like before it gets there. The horse and I are in sync, I can shift my body in time with his, whether on the ground or in the saddle and his will shift with me. This is the partnership I strive for with just about every horse I ride. It's not that I am going to gain that level of communication with them all, sometimes the for sale and trade crowd are too shut down from previous experiences to allow that and would it really be fair to open them up that much and then send them out into a world of riders that don't communicate that way? Usually the training horses get there, to some point, and then they go home. My own, I laugh, as you who read this know, they are usually the last I ride and the ones who might need the most work of all. Still, I have a glimmer of what is possible and I hunger to taste it, every time I walk out the door and head for the barn. No matter what the lesson, that's the goal for the day.

This Spring, since I had decided, after catching up on last year's training commitments to not take outside horses, I am getting to work with my own, and fill in the holes that my scattershot approach at their education has left in them. I find consistency is still my biggest difficulty. When I am being paid to ride, it is a no brainer to go outside every day and work horses. When they are my own, there are a thousand excuses and sometimes good reasons that get in the way. Unfinished business continues to plague me, being aware of a problem doesn't magically provide a fix for it, that takes discipline and effort, snark!

I have a training horse in, a lovely filly whose owner did a superb job in getting her ready before she got her. She's soft on the halter rope, does her groundwork nicely. I am having to catch up with her, as my usual first week or two would be redundant. We saddled without incidence yesterday (she's worn one many times at home), in fact saddled several times, looking for the right saddle fit for her young back. Did desensitizing, and graduated to hanging the milk jugs off the saddle to let her experience some activity on her back and against her sides. Filly was not one bit afraid of that mess but it did annoy her princess self. She pinned her ears and advised them they might want to exit, and do that right now. Being milk jugs and impervious to such warnings, they stayed put. POWW! She aimed and cowkicked them clear over her back . . . onto the other side. This happened a few times, with some intermittent crowhops, and the milk jugs proved their point. They weren't hurting her one bit and they were not leaving. Exactly the same point I want to prove when I ride for the first time. She walked, trotted and loped with a decent attitude, got her rubs and atta girls, and ended the session ears up, eyes soft, licking and chewing through her new lesson. Ray Hunt said it's our job to keep a horse out of trouble, they might get into trouble anyway, but it's our job to try to stay on the good side of that fine line. I think I did that with her yesterday and it paved the way for more good days after that one.

Were it not so muddy, that would probably be today, and still might be, depending on how things go. I am going to head out into the mud and gunk, normally, I'd be cussing the circumstances, today I am grateful I get to . . .

Spring Fresh!!

2009-04-09T20:49:00.004-05:00

Wonderful in laundry, body wash and the guy sitting next to you on the bus, Spring fresh is not near as desirable in my horses! Earlier this year, I pulled Ginger, my husband's big pretty mare, out and took off on what I thought would be an enjoyable toddle down the road. It was far from that, til we met up with another rider and both of relaxed and had fun snow busting and playing on the wintery trails. Ever since then, I have had the plan in the back of my head to address the very understandable buddy sourness that every horse in my herd has firmly latched onto. Why understandable, asks my reader? Well, if you could hang out with five or six of your closest friends at a free buffet, napping, gossiping and snacking at will, and some guy shows up with a job for you to do that you do not necessarily WANT to do . . . think about how you'd feel about that. I know how I'd feel about it!

Today was the day. I had a grand plan of saddling every horse we own, and did manage to get five out of the seven (left Jack for another day, and Chica, my Quarter Pony broodmare was protesting being tied to the wall with enough vigor I decided not to give her a saddle to destroy in the process.). Next part of the plan was to ride each one to the end of our lane, the broke saddle horses that is. Hard to expect that of Skipper, who just came home and doesn't really ride, yet, though she had a nice start last night at Two Rivers. As Donovan was so full of himself at the same ride, he drew first straw. To end the day with at least one horse that I can feel comfortable with just saddling up and heading down the road was high on my priority list, and he seemed the best bet. Two hours later we were there, but man there was a tussle in the middle.

High, high, high, he snorted, pawed, cried and in general had brat fits, while tied to the wall as I saddled the other horses. When ride time came around, he seemed to have found some brains, much to my relief. We did our warm up down in the yard, and big eyed he was but yielded his hips and shoulders and felt okay to get on. Even headed down the road with a minimum of fuss, but with a tense, springy step that let me know I needed to be very aware of what was going on with him. The trick is to now ride relaxed so that his tension doesn't turn into my tension, which in turn would further fuel his fire. We rode the field across the road and played on the bank a little, attempting some steep ups and downs. Not bad. Didn't try to buck me off, anyway. On down the road . . .

Suddenly a boxer female comes dashing into the lane, barking, snarling, head down and hackles raised. Rats! Donovan freezes, head skyward and ears pricked so far forward they are almost touching. I yell at the dog who fortunately stops her dash, but continues to bark and threaten us. I don't know this dog, and no one comes calling for her, despite the racket. I get Donovan to move his feet, never turning our back on the dog and at least she retreats if we advance. I holler at her to "git home!!" She turns and runs up one of the drives, but not far. We sidepass nervously past her, and I back Donovan until we have good distance from the dang dog.

We practice turns at the end of the lane, and when Donovan drops his shoulder in the direction toward home, I bend him as Missy taught me to do with Moonshine and get him to stand upright and then move off. He is a little pissy, but listens and we head back for home. Another skirmish with the dog, and this time I use Donovan on her like she was a cow. We moved her back toward her drive but she can see he's scared and she's getting braver and nastier. I am not sure what would have occurred next, but my neighbor comes driving down the road, her year and a half old Newfie in the back of her truck. He's a good boy and won't jump out but he bellows at the boxer who says, nuts to that, now she has reinforcements and she boogies for home. Sure hope her people don't make a habit of letting her run loose, will have to stop in and have a word about that.

Upon reaching home, Donovan, who wasn't horribly pushy about getting back but a little more eager than I wanted him to be, said that's it, we're done. I was asking for some hip yields and a little sidepass, normally non issues with him. He was fussy and all ears and eyes on the other horses. I was using a log to sidepass over, and suddenly he throws a fit, backing away from it, shaking his head, just absolutely putting down his hoof and saying, NO! No more! I won't and you can't make me! I bent him and asked him to move his hip over. He sulls up, ears pinned and tried to sling his head away from me. When I wouldn't let him, I felt him gather himself up for I am not sure what . . . rather than continue this way, I said hey, you don't want it like that, fine, I'll just step down and I bet you move your hip, forthwith. And, a little spanky spanky and that hip was in motion. This way, then that, shoulder through with alacrity please. Now eyes and ears are on me, where they belong. Some pets, no grudges held, and I mount up. Hip yield is better but he'd still really rather be at the barn. Okay fine, let's go there. We'd had some arguments about opening the heavy gate, he'd not stand still, then he'd not sidepass with it, I bypassed that, rode him through and then we trotted and loped circles, and then we trotted and loped circles some more. I don't have level ground on my place by the barn so it was an exercise in trotting and loping up and down inclines and it wasn't long til we were both puffing. Want to rest, asks me? We head back out the drive at a soft walk, but he wants to go back, okay fine, here we go again. We did this about three times, until my sweaty bone headed little horse figured out if he'd just stand quietly, head down, out on the drive without trying to take me somewhere I didn't want to go, life was much easier for him. We will both be sore tomorrow, I have no doubt, but I think I have his brains back in his head. That was the hardest ride.

Ginger started out high too, heck they all are and why not, they stand around eating alfalfa all day and not doin' mucha nuthin . . . She did her best to buck at first as I was lunging her in the round pen, feel good written all over her pretty face. It's not much of a buck, more a round backed body roll but I was happy to see it quickly out of her system. I rode her in one of Arron's saddles, and it's roomy but felt okay. Just in her rope halter, she rides as well in that as the rest of mine do in their snaffles. I practiced using both my reins to get a soft feel, a little more pressure on the inside with the supporting rein keeping her straight. She stayed nicely between my legs and when that shoulder dropped (wow, there's a theme developing here. . . have I really not noticed this before?) I picked her up easily, did some bending, some extended trotting, practicing my posting on her smooth and effortless gait. I asked a couple different times for a canter, cantering in my body to help her make the transition. She shook me off, and I decided not to push it, tonight. We'll get there. Backs up off body and weight transitions, and then we worked on sidepass and lateral. I have a bad habit of using the counter bend to get my lateral movement, and that is counterproductive. It's harder, getting the proper movement (which is why I cheat, no doubt!) and I got a few good steps each way, with her truly figuring out what I wanted and called it good. That was the easy ride.

The coolest ride, hands down, was Skipper. I moved her around the round pen, getting her to lunge at both a trot and a lope. I had my Crates saddle on her and it's too big for her, but for what we were going to do tonight (plus I was about out of jam, my stamina is definitely not what it was!) I decided to leave it be. She didn't have an ounce of buck in her step, and I've not ever seen any, so after some really sweet bending, yielding of quarters, hip over, shoulder through, I mounted up. Last night at Two Rivers, when I stepped up, she had instantly started backing up like that's what she thought I wanted. Tonight, she didn't back but she didn't move forward either. I used my hand out wide to lead her from the saddle and got her moving out at a nice walk. She'd go a few steps and bunch up. Not like she wanted to buck, just stuck and confused. This is weird to me as she's not lacked forward motion before, but hey, ride the horse that shows up, right? I stayed loose on her, let the reins dangle and slapped my leg a little, letting her pick wherever in the round pen she wanted to go as long as she kept moving. That was of course, the gate, and I hustled her a little harder when she got by it. Skipper picked up a nice trot coming away and I rode that, gently asking her to keep it up when she would have stopped. We did that for a bit, and I started to pick up one rein and ask for some bends. Started out, she'd stiffen against my hand (again a different behavior than when I rode her last, which was not yesterday) and I'd bring my hand to my hip, sit and wait for her to come around and give. Then, I'd ask her to step her hip over, which she does, REALLY nicely and send her off the other way. This morphed into lateral flexion at the trot, and pretty soon, we are riding toward one point in the round pen at a lovely smooth reachy trot, I'd set my weight to let her know we were changing directions, pick up a rein and drop it like a hot potato as she'd sweetly give her nose and arc into the turn. It was just the BEST! :-) We almost loped, too, she's been loped with a rider but that was a couple of years ago, and I decided not to push that either. We'd probably have been fine, but I like BEING fine better than thinking I'm fine, if you know what I mean :-)

Super nice transitions when I'd start walking in my body, she'd slow instantly and it only took a very little to keep her moving into the walk instead of just stopping as she first thought I wanted her to do. Backing up is nice, chin tucked, very soft. And that was us, tonight.

Oh yeah, Moonshine got caught. She didn't have to do anything but stand tied to a tree, but tomorrow will be a different day for her. Classic was saddled and could have used a ride, but I ran out of time thanks to my donnybrook with Donovan, I'll start with her tomorrow. Hawkeye stood saddled, also tied to a tree and waited for the other shoe to fall. Poor guy, I told him tonight, he needs to LIGHTEN up, life is just not that bad for him! Arron says Hawk gave him kisses and he's not a usually touchy feely kind of horse, so maybe he's taking my advice, ha ha!

You know what one of the coolest things about this day was? Here I had this bunch of horses, just as goofy and unruly as any group of Spring training horses, but for once, this group is mine. No pressures of "can I get done what the owner needs done in the time allotted?" No "how can I teach this owner how to ride this horse so they don't get in trouble together and have problems after all the hard work I am going to do to get the horse right." Nope, for once, it was my bunch of evergreens. Getting the time and the work they need. I do need to go back to work one of these days. Not the job I was doing, but something, and my health issues are still a problem, but it's stuff I can overcome when I am doing what I love. In the meantime . . . I'm going to ride!!

Jack Goes To Work . . . The Story

2009-03-21T20:59:00.005-05:00

It's been almost a year since I adopted Jack Tripper, a bay gelding of mixed Arab heritage (or so I thought, til the stocky bay Quarter Horse stepped cautiously off the trailer) and decided to try my hand at a serious rehab case. Not so much physical, that had been well handled by the foster family chosen by the Nebraska Humane Society when they removed him and several other horses from a Mexican rodeo situation. The horses were emaciated and showed signs of the hours of chasing and tripping they endured. In all fairness to the guys doing the backyard rodeo, these were all horses purchased off a slaughter truck, horses with no future, that no one cared about, anymore. It's not a sport I condone or support, whatsoever, but I understand it's their heritage, and this is not a judgement of that activity, although I'd sure like to see them give it up, but it's not for me to say.

Jack peeked out of the trailer, surveying the new world he'd arrived at, wondering, I am sure, what was in store for him now. Talking to his previous foster owners, they said he was unpredictable, damaged beyond saving, would bolt and jump fences rather than be caught. They also said someone had done work with this horse at some time in his life, when not terrified out of his wits, he was halter broke to the bone, and wouldn't take the slack out of the line . . .until something frightened him. Then, he was gone and there was no holding him.

I played with him on that cold February day, letting him see and smell me, nothing about the horse looked too looney so far. Unfortunately, I took too much for granted and against my own better judgment, tied him to a post the next day, while doing things in the barn. He spooked, pulled back and ended up beating his face against the post until he tangled in the rope and choked himself down. Well, Terri, that's a hell of a way to get started with him, I thought, as I cut through my expensive Parelli lead rope in effort to get him free before he was too far gone to save. I could just hear that phone call . . . "you know that horse you brought me on trial? Well, you won't have to worry about him, I killed him off already." Luckily for me, and for Jack, he took a deep shuddering breath and jumped to his feet. Back in his stall he went, me muttering under my breath about how I so should have known better than to tie that horse, with his history.

"He won't eat, with people around, or drink either." That's another thing I'd been told. So, I parked myself in the stall with my poor black eye'd horse. He looked like he'd gone several rounds with a much meaner fellow . . . I cracked the stall door in case he decided to chase me out of there, but he didn't then nor has he since showed an aggressive inclination or angry bone in his body. Not too long passes, and he's munching hay, a wary eye (the one he can see out of) cocked my way. I am listening to the radio, and my knees are killing me. It's COLDDDD!! Eventually, he lifts his head, takes a few swift glances at me and then over the course of the next few songs, inches his way, baby step by step til he's facing me. I am stiff frozen, thinking, well if he comes for me, he can have me, no way can I move fast now. A tentative nose extends my way. I stay still. He sniffs my jacket and then to my complete amazement, flips the flap on my pocket. Startling himself, he backs away and watches to see what I am going to do next. I still stay still, but I am smiling inside and I believe he felt that. We did that for several days. He let me put a rope on his neck and wash and clean the cuts over his right eye. I'd move him around in the stall, take him out to the round pen for exercise and that's about what we did til he healed up.

I did circle work with him, taught him to yield his hips, and he always stayed soft on the rope. (You have to wonder who took him to that sale, after all the work it would have taken getting a horse that soft, and if they had any idea what kind of fate they were assigning their horse to . . .)Haltering him took an act of God and rather than get in a fight about it, I worked on desensitizing his poor battered face, and got him to accept the stick and string swinging around his body. Smart horse, he'd figured out if he ran, he got tripped, so the hazers whipped him pretty good to get him to move out. The first time I laid that string across his back I didn't know what to expect. He'd gasp, eyes would go dull and blank, and he'd hold his breath. I'd just keep swinging that string, as soft and sweet as I could manage, petting him with it, and eventually he'd come back to himself. He would look at me with huge wide eyes, and lick and chew like he would never stop. He got to where he could manage quite a bit of activity with that thing swinging around and touching all over his body. We got a ways last year, developed a rope game where he would play with the lines figure eighted around his neck, and that was his stress relief. The day he started yawning, releasing stress til his eyes rolled back in his head, I cried my eyes out too, heck I did almost every time I worked with him. You could see how hard he struggled to be present and overcome his deep, deep fears and worries. Then, the paying training horses showed up and Jack went out to pasture.

I have noted in different posts and blogs how his education has continued, mostly in a very indirect fashion. Jack is an audience horse. The first time I mounted a horse in the round pen, with him only 30 feet away at a nearby round bale, again, I had no idea what to expect. Our fences are nothing to write home about and I only hoped he'd not get to the highway before he quit running, should he choose to head out and jump to freedom. As I stepped up on my mare, having turned her so I could watch him as I went up, his head flew up and I could see the whites of his eyes clear from where I was standing in my stirrups. Jack looks hard at the horse close to him, one of my broodmares who is not the least affected by ANYTHING that goes on as far away as the round pen, as if to say "come ON! Don't we have to run??" "You can, if you want to" says fat and lazy mare, "me, I'm gonna eat." And she does. Jack looks back at me, now riding slow circles on the green horse, and back at the chowing down mare again. He snatches hay, and puts his eyes right back on us. We are busy doing our own thing now, and he sighs, and sinks his nose into the friendly bale. He's done all kinds of things since then, which look to me like passive learning, and testing to make sure we really are safe for him.

Bringing us up to THIS year and how Jack goes to work. Feeling the need to train, this being the first year in about 15 that I don't have outside training horses lined up (well, except a few that aren't here yet), I caught him and Moonshine the other day. That endeavor was just about all day, in itself as neither of those ponies are much for volunteering for the halter. First day back at it went really well. Soft reminders of what all he used to know, and still does. Smart, smart horse. I told him last year I may never have seen a more scared horse in my life, but I sure have seen a whole ton of goofier ones.

Second day, not as good. I put him in the round pen, for the first time, and worked on teaching him to face up and hook up, instead of presenting me with a bay butt view any time I want to catch him. Best thing, I didn't send him soaring over it, though we do have a couple more bent panels from him really, really reviewing his options. Worst, could NOT get a halter on that horse to save my life or his. He spun away from me, bolted off, burnt my hands a little when I argued the point. It was the worst and most frustrating day we have had, excepting that one that I almost killed him off. I put his sweated, lathery self in the barn in a stall to chill out, and I worked some other horses (remembered why I adore my sweet and incredibly SLOOOWWWW little Donovan horse . . . heart of gold, that fellow). Finally, I slow down and figure out where we are at, rather than insisting on where I want us to be . . . no bend in the neck, no softness in him at all. All brace and refusal. I breathe down, get him to breathe down too, his head lowers, and I rub his face with the halter. I wait for him to acknowledge, and believe me, I did not want to. I wanted him to halter up, right now. It's a simple thing, says my human mind, you should NOT have a problem with this!

Acknowledging that he DID have a problem with it was probably the best thing I did for him all afternoon. It doesn't really matter what I think about where we should be at, in his training, he's the one having it done, he's the one that has to be okay with it all, if things are going to go the way I want them to . . . soft, easy and quiet. And that's how he haltered after I quit trying to get it done on my time schedule. He was going to need to try, it's not like he can just take his face away from me and I am going to say, oh well, okay, you aren't good with this, we'll do something else . . . uh NO. But, what I will do, is say, okay, what I can I do to help you understand this is okay for you, and no, you can't shove me out of the way just because you don't like what I am doing, and if you put your head way over on the other side of your body, I am going to keep asking you to bring it back til you figure out this isn't bad for you, really, at all. I released to him any time he'd soften, which wasn't much but it was enough and when he wore his halter, it was after he'd reached his nose through it when I finally got it open enough.

We still had "stuff" go on, and in light of the photos we got today, I wish I had some of that, because a person can look at these photos and say, well that horse doesn't look too tough, what the heck is she going on about?

The other days this week has been about reinforcing that face up and hook up lesson, which he did get, and he got it really well. Jack's coming halfway across the pen to find me now, and even walked all the way up when I was messing with Moonshine, and the pressure was off of him. Lots of rubbing, lots of handling that sensitive face . . . where is it okay? Where is it not? Approach and retreat. Asking him to gently bend that neck, lower that head. Trust me.

Today he stood tied again and to that same post in the barn. I did tie him a little last year, 22 foot line, with some wraps, no knots. Today it was a 14 foot line, some wraps, no knots. Was okay, I don't think he took the slack out of the line, except when I was moving his hindquarters around to help him loosen up, and he was finding his way about that. The other day, he'd pulled back some, but quickly jumped forward when I winched around a tree to keep him from running off and burning my hands again. I think he figures the last time he fought really hard, he got whacked in the eye with the side of a barn . . . Whatever he figures, there was a lot going on, horses coming in and out, being saddled, doing groundwork, rock n roll on the radio (had a guy ask me once if I only played that when they were bad . . . said, no, play it all the time :-), and he sweated himself up pretty good, eyes got big and bigger, but he never pulled and he didn't freak out. Not ever.

End of my day, hungry husband waiting for me to unsaddle, having had a FABULOUS posting ride on Moonshine, and a nice turn on the four year old Quarter Pony, Classic, I decided to get some photo ops with Jack. Didn't know, might be the katy bar the door, this one's coming thru! Or . . . they are what they are, a young horse accepting his saddle blanket, getting some love, just doing the deal. I introduced him to the barrel game today (sending through three barrels, set close together in a variety of patterns. Teaches a horse to follow a feel, handle themselves in squeezy situations, and to pay attention, as things change up.). Yeah, he goes through on finger points, didn't get worried about the narrow squeeze between the outside barrel and the barn. (Slippin, last year, spooked coming through there, kicked back and nearly relieved me of my head. She turned out all right . . .you'd think he might as well.) Wednesday, I was wondering why I'd put so much time in one bothered little grade bay gelding. Today, I have high hopes I have a horse.

Recipe For A Better Outlook

2009-02-25T18:59:00.003-06:00

Lessee, that would be sunshine, add mud (think of all those burning calories), a wonderful light Spring breeze, oh yeah and HORSES!! After an afternoon of cyber job hunting, (still have mine, just think if I have to do the 40 hour thing, I might as well see if I can find something that pays a little better) I pulled on my jeans and headed out back to see what things look like. I have really been resistant to going out there . . . too many missing faces. It seems a bit much that I keep going on about this . . . was my idea to downsize, was my idea to give the horses away rather than sell them . . . my idea to fold the business I have sweated, sacrificed, poured mine and my family's tears into for the past 16 years. For all that everything has gone according to plan and the horses are placed in homes I would have chosen for them, had I been able to . . . I still haven't really dealt with their absence. Today was the day.

I am riding Hawkeye, my son's Paint gelding at the Expo (that is if I ever get a stall reserved for him in time!) and it occurs to me time is getting shorter and he isn't getting broker! In order not to make an entire fool of both of us, I figure I better get some saddle time in! Needing very much to overcome the depressive fog that weighs down my feet and heart, I know the only real fix is action. Good forward motion is a cure for many, many ills.

Now, back to Hawkeye. This has been a bit of a puzzling horse for me. I bought him based essentially on his flashy looks, seconded by what seemed to be a sweet and compliant manner. Sent him out for some saddle miles, and figured he'd be a quick turnaround. Hawk didn't really come home riding the way I like my sales prospects to ride, and I never took the time to bring him around (see Outside In for details). So, there he sits out back with the rest of the greenies and the might-someday-be's.

Today, I started him like I would any green horse that had come to my barn for training. From the ground up, taking nothing for granted. Some spook therapy to get his mind brought around, using the milk jugs from the ground and then from his saddle. Watching him move, I am reminded of his really nice speed horse breeding, and found myself wondering if I'd like to develop one more speed horse . . . This guy can really move. He wasn't out of control, dashing around like a madman or anything like that. Just very economically tucking that butt and picking up a fast canter, keeping his feet in the muddy slop that is my round pen seemingly with no effort at all. I didn't want to do all my conditioning in one day, so I mostly kept him down to a jog and a trot, very much enjoying when he started looking into the circle to find me and ask questions. I let him volunteer his stop (this a horse that is really learning to move his feet so I want him to know his quiet and security still lay with me), and when he started volunteering coming into me when I pulled my body language back to let him know it would be okay, a grin split my face from ear to ear. That soft trust, and happy ease of movement is worth a fortune to me. The horse became as relaxed under saddle as I have ever seen him.

I introduced some falling leaf, a pretty name for the hip over, shoulder through exercise, and awkward at first. he warmed into it and gave nicely, fore and aft. Time to ride. I had about 20 pounds of sucking mud on my boots, and even though I knocked a bunch of it off, decided to use the mounting block, instead of just climbing aboard. I wanted to try the exercises I have been using to gain Moonshine's cooperation and see how well it translated to Hawkeye. It's simple stuff, ask the horse softly to come into position, one step at a time, rewarding and releasing along the way. If the horse can't stay, no big deal, but you have to work a little, out there, hip over, shoulder through, whatever, and then we try again. Took a couple of tries with Hawkeye, and when he finally came up and settled, it was that same head level, dead solid stance I had with Moonshine when she was completely ready to ride. It was the first time I'd mounted him with his full permission, and maybe the first time anyone had. Did just a little bending, rubbing his forehead on each side, moving his hip over a little, then released him and let him walk off.

This is a really green horse. That is why I haven't sold him yet. I haven't even let anyone come look at him yet from the ads I have occasionally posted for him. I could feel the greenness in the stiffness in his back and the uncertain way he was traveling. Singing offkey to "Whatja gonna do with a drunken sailor" we did some passenger riding in the round pen, and then some point to point but I wanted longer straight lines and to find out if he was truly with me or just confined in 50 feet of pen.

Sash and Jack were in audience mode outside. When I had picked up the milk jugs on the way in, I'd rattled them just for fun, to see if Hawkeye really cared and what would be the reaction from the herd at the hay bale. Sasha picks up her head, flags her tail, snorts, and trots straight to me to see what the heck there is to play with. Much to my surprise. Jack comes with her. . . cautious and wary, but curious. Man, that's so cool.

Anyway, now that I am riding out here, she's a pain in the butt. Jack decides there's less disturbance at the other hay bale and takes his leave. We move Sasha around a little, without a ton of success, as Hawkeye has NO idea where I want to put his body and we are clumsy to say the least. Eventually she gets sick of us and bolts off. UH, not YOU, big boy, I say. I bend him into the fence a couple times, not shutting down his forward motion (it's taken me this long to find it, I am NOT losing it now!) but putting it to work and using the momentum. He never does feel like he's entirely with me, but he's not running though my hands and leaving me either.

The footing out in the pasture looks good, much better than where we are, so we head out to do some exercises. I pretend I am taking a lesson with Missy, and repeat a whole lot of what we did with Ginger, that first time out. Weighting my outside seatbone still feels odd to me, I have pushed from the inside seatbone my entire life, and while I am feeling the difference in the horse's improved ability to use their hindquarters for me, it is far from coming naturally. Hawkeye started out all over the place, but much softer in the bridle than he used to be, so we've made some progress. I rode boxes, stretching out his walk, trotted diagonals, and every so often, he would hit this incredible reachy, floaty trot that makes me wonder if I am developing the right dressage prospect. No trouble getting a working trot out of this horse!

Thinking that not only can I overdo my conditioning in one day, but my training too, I reluctanctly head for the barn. That makes Hawkeye way too happy, sigh . . . so we take the long way around. Coming up around the other side of the barn, I hear the sound of melting water running off down the hillside . . . Wait a minute . . . that's WAY too much rushing water! Darn it, I have overflowed the water tank. AGAIN! Man, you'd think I'd learn to pay attention to that. We ride over, and I crawl through the fence, asking Hawkeye to stay with me from the other side. While taking care of the hose, I decide I want a closer look at the new round bale up on the hill. We are out of the oat hay and into the alfalfa mix, and I am curious if the quality matches the price.

Hawkeye doesn't even seem disappointed as I crawl back up and we head up the hill to the other round bale. This hay is looking NICE! Still green, aromatic . . . I am happy to see it. Now that I am here, I sidle Hawkeye up to different horses, letting him know what all that shoulder and hip control is really for. Sometimes it works super, and he melts towards them, following the pressure in my hands and hips like a dream. Sometimes we both get confused as to what I am asking (old ways conflicting the new that I am learning . . .). I laugh, pet him, rub his neck, tell him what an awesome guy he is to put up with my learning curve while so freshly into his own. Even Moonshine gets her face rubbed, Sasha is a pest, Ginger is unsure, as Hawkeye is the baddest of the bad, out there by himself, and she's thinking close enough for bites is too close for her. I get her to trust me, and pet her too. Class and Donovan are doing standing tied duty, so they miss out. Jack? We get to about five feet from him, and that's enough. I ask him to look full at me, both ears and both eyes, and release pressure. Pretty good for a horse that was sailing fences a year ago at the sight of a mounted rider.

Finally, eventually, I really do let Hawkeye off the hook and head for the barn. I give him a good rubdown and many, many Cheerios. The other two captives get their share as well as the goat. It was an incredibly good time. The other day, when I was really feeling sorry for myself, I was thinking about the clinics I want to attend, the lessons I want to take, and thought man, I can't even say it's for the business. It's just for me, because I want to . . . and then I realized, Terri, that is how it is for most people and horses. Because they want to, and that's enough. Wow. What a concept.

Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming . . .

2009-02-10T17:34:00.005-06:00

Enough is enough and doom and gloom is defeated by sunshine, at least for a day. I put me to bed early, with a forecast like this, I have got to get outside and ride!

Days like this were total early Midwestern Spring time. . . Sunshine over ice, snow and enough mud to make me wish I'd been better friends with the Pilate ball . . . It was great!

A very few hours later, I could sleep no more and up I bounced. Finally true to his promise, the BFLWM produced a beautiful sunny day. I have a lesson coming up on Friday evening with Missy Fladland and though I have serious long and short term financial issues, I decided to keep the appointment as it helps me remember what I am doing all this for . . . Which brings us to Moonshine, my partner in my search for things dressage . . . I haven't been on her since the LAST lesson, back beginning December, which doesn't really bode well for the next one if I don't do something about that.

The inch thick treacherous ice is mostly replaced with sucking mud, a true harbinger of Spring (and fine with me, at this point!) and I joyfully opened up my previously snow drifted barn door to see how things fared in there. It's pretty much under water, a testament to the amount of melt as my barn is always dry (unless I leave the hose running, but that's a different tale) but there were enough dry spots to tie and groom. Here we go!

I picked up a baling twine, as the sight of a halter and lead still inspires more catching adventures than I wanted to mess around with my lovely black mare, and a handful of grain. Moonshine was first in line for pets and treats, a nibble and I walked away, leaving her before she could leave me. Treats for Sasha, who was volunteering for the halter (and later put herself in the round pen AND the barn, do you think she's ready for a job, LOL?), Donovan and back to Moonshine. I rubbed her neck and slipped the baling twine over. It's trickery and will not work for the long run, but did what I needed it to do today. It might be the last time I ever shortcut that mare . . .

She knew she was tricked and came reluctanctly with me to the barn. I proceded with care, not wanting the big mare to fully rebel and pull away, dunno if I could let go quick enough to avoid the nasty and probably well deserved burn I'd get . . . I released to her with each foreward motion and she lightened up a little on the way. Classic, the four year old Quarter Pony I am riding for my friend, Walt, followed us into the barn and I thought, just as well, need to fool around with you a little, too, while I'm at it.

Got Class cleaned up and neatly tied out of the way. This little gal does not have a lot of confidence in human leadership. Sense a theme here? More stories to come of a horse that was built from the outside in, rather than the inside out. I'm going to fix that. She was insecure and shifted her body around, trying to keep track of her buddies outside. An elbow to the ribs when she was rude surprised her, as did the friendly rub when she stepped back out of my space with sharp concern. Now I have her attention, and just gently moved her around while I was removing the mud off that stocky black body. She's the first foal out of my good Chica, bred by a grulla dun Poco Bueno/Mr Blakburn bred stud, and a very nice example of what I think Quarter Pony should be. I did a lot of rubbing and friendly, just asking her to respect my space and acknowledge my presence. Stood her tied, over in the corner and turned to 'Shine.

Now, something odd happened to me while I was grooming Moonshine, and it may be more pivotal than I know even yet . . . Anyone who has ever taken a lesson with me, or watched me prepare to work a horse will tell you I am the queen of the 30 second groom. Get the mud and dirt off of where the saddle goes, worry about the pretty later. I rarely saddle less than three horses at a time, and being efficient in my motions is key to getting the day's work done. Well, I didn't have a day's work to do this afternoon . . . I had one black mare to saddle and see where we were at, together. I started, as usual this time of year with the shedding blade (did NOT use it on her mane, for Heaven's sake, inside joke . . .) briskly removing debris while thinking about my game plan. She wasn't particularly quiet, was also focused on the hooligans, equine and canine raising heck outdoors . . . I untied her, did some hip over and shoulder through, keeping her really bent as we were in the panel stall, and that big girl moved over and around herself to make a Quarter Horse weep with envy (unless you are Donovan, who couldn't care less . . .), back to the post, and now a brush. As I am stroking the thick, dullish winter hair, a shine starts to come through. My movements slow, I work at small spots, removing bits and pieces I would normally ignore, it's nasty out she's just going to get dirty again anyway but I brush her nonetheless, acquainting myself with the contours of her body. . . Found a dread lock in the long fantasy style mane . . . ShowSheen is thawed, grabbed my hairbrush that is just for horses (unless I get a surprise visitor, then it might be for me if I happen to think about it), smoothed and brushed that mane til I could run my fingers through it. Moonshine is still, now, she's relaxing and I start talking to her. I am reading a book I am a little sceptical of . . . this Riding Through the World thing . . . and it talks about acknowledging your feelings to your horses, rather than the "fake it til you make it" so many of us have been taught to do, and not just in the stable. There is something to this, as uncomfortable as it makes me. . . As I am talking to her, those big dark eyes are fixed on mine, and she reaches out and touches me with her nose. Okay, this is not the big epiphanic "my horse understood my pain" kind of a thing that just gets too sappy for me, sometimes, but she did reach out to me. I rubbed her gently, and then full on hugged her neck. More grooming, she's very relaxed now and about half sleepy . . .

That all changed when we went outside. I decided to take her for a trail walk and get her exposed to the great outdoors and head shoots up (no worries about getting THAT neck to lift), tail hefted with an Arab loft over that Perchy butt, and it was prancy dancy all down the road. We worked some circles by the scary earthloading equipment (love Moonshine's expressions of alarm . . . feet move around, she gets a look at the scary thing, and that's about all there is to it). Largest issue was keeping her moving where I was pointing, not allowing her to avoid by changing directions of her own accord and asking for softness on the halter rope. I didn't mind her exuberance, her trot is big and floaty and I think she's going to be so much fun I can hardly stand it. I kept forgetting to reward her tries and made myself bring her in and rub her when she do those hip over, shoulder through's so round and pretty, she almost made think I have that down (doing it differently, hopefully the way Missy showed me, and it's not as easy as it looked! :-))) Worked her on a bank alongside the road, until she paid attention to where her feet landed, paid attention to what I was asking, and in general, paid attention. The walk to the trailer where her saddle has lived all winter (since the last lesson, right?) was much quieter and I had good thoughts I might actually end up on that tall back before all was said and done.

She saddled nicely and why not. Back at the barn, it was push come to shove . .. how would the bridling go? Missy spent a long and proper time getting the mare to put her head down softly, below shoulder level and bridle willingly with full cooperation and acceptance. Could I master the patience I might need to follow in those footsteps? Eyes widen as I approach with the bridle and Moonshine's head drifts roofward. . . I step her backwards asking gently for her to lower, and release her as soon as I feel her body give. . . sure enough the head sinks . . to my eye level . . . my shoulder . . . to my knee. Man, I don't want to mess this up! I carefully frame her face with the headstall, she almost raises her head and I ask if she wants to move her feet. Shine says no and extends her face toward the bit in my hand. I can almost not believe it as I gently slip the O ring into her mouth. A little tension as the headstall goes over the far ear, and it's done. Wow. The memory this horse has is phenomenal. Better than mine, I am pretty sure.

Had a small wreck coming out of the door, danged dog jumped up and nipped her butt as she yielded her hip to me on the way out. Moonshine spun and the mecate rein pulled the wrong side of her face, we were spinning around and I was pretty sure I was going to be on my butt in the mud, ice, snow mixture that greets the feet just outside the barn. I let go. She's OUT of there. Well, this is going to be interesting. Maybe I don't ride, maybe I spend my afternoon playing the catch me game with my fully saddled and bridled mare. Or . . . maybe I just walk up to her, and pick up the mecate with Moonshine looking at me like "what the heck was all that about?" Things are changing, yet again, with us.

Had to kick Sasha out of the round pen, not your turn today, my darling. There are people interested in her and I will gladly let her go to either of those homes. On the other hand, if she didn't leave . . . well how bad would that be. . . anyway, some more, I digress. Stepping up to the mounting block we do a couple light gives on either side, no problem, she completely remembers what to do here. She also remembers she doesn't care for the mounting block and begins to sidle. Normally, I get her "close enough" and go for it. By the time I am ready to get on her, I am 99.9999 sure she's safe and my semi flying mount had Missy's eyes wide, last time around. Today, I catch myself . . . impatience is just not what this horse needs and we are in for the long haul. I, the commitment phobe from Hell have committed to her and a couple select others out there, and I might as well do it right. I move her around, letting her settle when she's willing to come in closer and sending her back out to work when she can't stay. Finally, it's one step at a time and she's in proper position to the block and stays there. If I ever get her to this point, it's NOW finally time to get on and go, right!? Instead, I rub her neck, make noise on the saddle, hug and play with her. She stands, neck level, ears lopped. I pick up my stirrup, she's fine. Now, it is time to mount and I swing aboard. No walking off, no high tense neck, she's an old saddle horse, relaxed head to toe and ready.

We didn't do a whole lot. Walked, trotted some. I did a passenger lesson with the reins figure eighted on the saddle horn. I need to work on my seat and my balance (there's a blog a few months ago that this was my goal but I didn't get there that day) and I rode arms straight out from my shoulders, keeping my chest open, arms straight up, finding my balance points, and doing my winter clumsy chubby best to follow her movements through the knee deep snow at the top of the round pen and the mud and four inches of water at the bottom of it. I could have rode all day but I wanted Moonshine to be as happy about what we were doing as I was and riding the piss out of an out of shape mare isn't the way to do that (though Ginger bears no grudge, you sweetheart, you). I worked a little on using my outside seatbone to ask for the hip to move and then bring the shoulders over, and when I felt some improvement in us both, that was enough. I picked up my reins, asked if there was any back up in there and dropped them like a hot potato as the chin came in and the body floated backwards under me.

I don't normally trust a horse enough to passenger without the reins at least in hand. I'll let them dangle but I want them at the ready should something go wrong. This green mare, who's not been even haltered that I can remember since early December was solid as a rock under me and I have glimmers of what we might become together. I had goosebumps then and I have them now.

Nope, she didn't leave when I untacked and turned her loose. Better yet, half hour later, while filling the tank, I walked up to her out at the hay bale, took some pictures (on my phone, no idea how to get them off to share with you) and rubbed her neck and head some more. If I can stay true to the path, the journey of horsemanship, as I see and understand it, I might get past the Catch Me game with Moonshine yet in my lifetime :-) It's a good goal.

Winds of Change . . .

2009-02-08T11:33:00.005-06:00

Ice. Snow. Darkness. Headlines screaming of economic disaster and job loss. Seasonal Affective Disorder . . . Too many tense conversations about how there is just not enough money coming in to cover the expenses going out, fingers pointing, blaming, rocking the stability of a relationship I can't imagine my life continuing without . . . loss of a beloved dog adding to the sorrow. Winter has not been easy on many of us this year and this is what it has been for me.. I hate that awful feeling of being stuck in a neverending loop, that the inevitable end is the big crash . . . I have always been one to believe we create much of our realities by the perceptions we point at them and being in control of my destiny is much preferred to being a victim of it.

Starting back in 1984, sitting at the polished cherry wood desk of a posh reception area, helping veteran employees of 20+ years trying to polish up resumes from an unexpected lay off, I have never had much faith in the illusion of corporate America job stability. I have fought, scraped, sacrificed and managed to be self employed since my divorce in 1991. I have worked day jobs, given up on my dreams, only to be steered back to them, again and again. It's what I thought I would do til the body just wouldn't do it any mo'.

Which brings us current . . . an economy that is not kind to my chosen body of clientele, the middle class worker looking to put a great horse under their kids and themselves, through either my continually developed training programs or my carefully assessed and chosen sales prospects. That same clientele isn't getting tattooed quite like they used to and that only matters as my husband is also self employed and he's a tattoo guy. Combine that newer wrinkle with inclement weather, no indoor arena to cover me wee head on the wet n windy days, a certain increasing, possibly age inspired, lack of willingness on my part to deal with the elements and ride anyway, and I no longer have a viable training operation. My books last year more than underscore the point.

Good broke horses are still holding a value, but with a market flooded with free mostly unrideables, and a new generation of folk who don't know the difference, it's getting increasingly difficult to get an honest price out of a good saddle horse, and I don't think I ever want to hear "my six year old has been taking lessons, do you think your unstarted three year old will make a good kid horse??" ever again in my lifetime. Will he make a good kid horse? Oh hell yeah, I am sure he will . . . in a few years with the proper education and set of experiences behind him . . . There's just some questions people ask that let you know beyond a shadow of any reasonable doubt that NO horse they end up with will do well for them, because they just have not a clue about what makes a horse tick and how to get a job done. Just try getting into your vehicle, turn it on, put it in gear, don't steer it or properly use the brakes, and you will get an idea of what I am talking about. . .never mind adding the factor of a living, breathing creature with thoughts and ideas of it's own, into the mix . . .

Okay, I digress. Looking out my window, up into our still snow covered pasture, I still see too many butts gathered around the round bales, as I have seen all winter. I didn't mean to become a horse collector but rather than sell off some of the really cool horses I found last year, they got turned into the "keeping horse" side, until that side's swelled to bursting. Over the course of my lifetime, I have developed an eye for the great horse, and year after year, I send those great horses on to their next good homes. I get a lot of joy and satisfaction from most of those sales, I get emails from happy owners that love and appreciate the good mount I have put under them . . . I get to share trails and make memories with a lot of those people who started out customers and have become friends. Those things mean a lot to me but something happened to me last year and I just decided to keep some for myself for a change . . . Thinking, Tyler, dude, where are you now and I hope you are okay . . .

Which brings me to my current situation . . . too many horses, not enough time. If I saddle two horses a day, with 12 head to maintain, I could ride 6 a week . . . is this likely? No, not really . . . even so, it means a rotation in which I just get started on some, then they sit, while I ride others, none of them ever really getting to the point of rideability I know I can produce in a horse, which perpetuates the frustration on both mine and my horse's part, every time we ride. Doesn't make for that great relationship between horse and rider that I try to create for each one of my customers, but don't seem to make the time, for myself . . .

Too many horses means making hard decisions about foot care, feed, supplements, all that. I am a believer in a grass hay diet for most lightly working horses, but I LOVE the shine and muscle I see on my friend's horses that are getting a little better than that. I HATE seeing long and chipped toes on the hooves I skipped last time around as no way can I get 12 head trimmed, all at once. They do okay, out there, but fewer would do better.

A budget whose shortfalls are growing, rather than receding, threatening my very ability to keep a roof over any of our heads. The dissatisfaction with taking a great little gelding to compete in an event last year with total lack of preparation, and the disappointment of not doing well in something we should shine, had I the time to do what I do with a horse I own. A rescue horse whose great brain shows me, with time and dedication, I can ensure he'll not stare down the slaughter truck ever again. . . My son's money tied up in a really nice horse I haven't had TIME to develop and realize his investment for him . . . not to mention being able to do right by the horse.

Okay, it's more than clear I need to reduce, and I need to do it right now. I know, probably as well as anyone out there, what it takes to sell a horse. The stock I have sitting out back are carefully put together over the years as the ones I wanted to look at for the rest of their lives. The drop dead gorgeous Skipper W bred AQHA mare that I salivated over when Colleen brought her home, and snapped her up, with THAT baby in her belly, when the opportunity offered. The lovely black Quarter Pony mare that I have been through thick and thin with, who has never given me a less than spectacular foal and whose fault it is not that her job has been downsized and done away with . . . The black breeding stock gelding I purchased as a companion for one of those foals that grew up to outshine his brother in every way, looks, disposition and personality . . .The sport horse filly I have such high hopes for . . . and others.

Selling those horses opens me up to every conversation I have ever had . . . kid's horse? . . . will you come down on your price? Why are you selling? What are you trying to hide? I am so done with all of that. It's time to make a change.

In year's past, I'd have prettied them up, loaded them onto a trailer and headed for the nearest sale. A lot of people know me, around here, and they know they can believe me when I tell them if I take a horse to a sale, it's either a knothead or I need the money. In this case, would'a been the latter and the horses would have been okay. In today's climate, the likely end for a non ride, and a lot of almost rides at a horse sale is a long ride in a truck to be herded down an alley toward a guy with a sledge hammer. I'd really like to take every single ignorant ill informed PETA son of a bitch who closed the USDA run facilities that at least had humane methods of disposal and regulations to follow and take them on a tour in Mexico. This is what you've done, folks, hope you feel okay about that because I sure don't. I didn't raise or rescue a single head on my property to send them to that fate, I'd rather shoot them myself than see that happen to them.

Which brings me here. If I am contemplating having to shoot my friends, guess I better find homes for them. I made the very difficult and painful decision to give away a large portion of our herd because it gives me control of where they go. The right people can take an opportunity to own a super nice horse, or they can stay here and I will figure something else out.

Along those lines, I decided to close the business I have put so much blood, sweat, and tears into, over the years. Yesterday, I was beginning to feel a certain amount of freedom in my soul. One horse has already left, to a home I couldn't have picked better, had I been allowed to choose. I have been gratified at the quality of the folk who have responded. Not people looking to scoop up a cheap or free horse, but thinking horsepeople who can take these horses and develop them every bit as well as I can, and who will have time and resources to do so . . . I have recommended other trainers without that pang of "omigod, how will I pay my bills if I don't have my calendar booked?" I have told people no, that the horse I have is not what they are looking for. . . I have done that before, in sales, but there is always that battle of the bottom line . . . "Terri, you sell horses for a living . . . you MUST sell this horse!" and sometimes you do what you have to do, against the better judgement of what you should do . . . and hope for the best. I don't quite know who I am or how to think of myself as a person who does NOT buy, sell and train horses for a living, it's been the biggest part of me for a very long time, but I am going to figure it out.

I will probably always develop and occasionally sell nice horses. It's part of my addiction and it's in my blood but not having to make a living at it, frees up something in my soul. The idea of taking my good little Donovan to an event we have trained and prepared for, bringing all the heat at our disposal . . . that thrills me. We might still get our butts kicked but if it's by someone who is just flat plain better than we are, my hat is off to them, and we go back and try again, as opposed to defeating ourselves before we ever get started.

I am keeping some really nice horses. They will require less time to get them where I want them to be than the raw material I am sending on to other homes. I am looking forward to the sun on my face and the joy of having a great horse under me, doing what we love best, being out there, together, thinking as one, moving as one, with the comfortable old shoe feeling that comes of hours in the saddle with your very best friend. Am I going to cry about this? You bet I am, but I'll survive and there's better days ahead. Let the winds of change blow . . .

Chubby Girls & Pilate Balls . . .

2009-01-07T19:42:00.003-06:00

Okay, now what does any of that have to do with a horse training blog, you might ask yourself, with a scowl. No, wait, the scowl comes from me. Yesterday, I played horse. For real, outside with real horses. It's snowy and icy in this part of the world, and all I wanted was to be up on the warm, wide back of my favorite gelding while he buried his head in the round bale in the company of his fellows. On a list serv I am on, we have been discussing the judicious use of the mounting block to save ourselves and the long suffering torque-ing of our horse's spine whilst we haul ourselves aboard. To some, mounting blocks are cheating. While I firmly believe a horseperson needs to understand and be able to correctly execute a mount, I also believe it is better for my horse for me to NOT be dragging away on his spine in the process.

No way, yesterday, was I getting myself up on the bare back of that horse without some help. He's 14.3. I found a low spot, and there was still no way. Bouncing and bumping around on the side of him was okay for desensitizing, gained myself some dirty looks, but sure didn't even get anywhere close to that above mentioned goal. To a downed tree we went. There were other issues involved that complicated mounting, having to do with a sullen attitude from a sulky horse that saw no reason to end his winter vacation, but I won't go into that on this blog . . . There may be another brewing about what to do if we have too many horses to ride consistently, in today's crowded market and are bedeviled by time and space considerations. I don't have the answer to that question just yet, so that blog will have to brew . . .

Back to fat girls and pilate balls. I have been training horses most of my life. Most of that takes place Spring, Summer and Fall, as I rarely have steady access to an indoor arena. During the Season, I eat more or less okay, pretty self indulgent about ice cream, chocolate, fast food, rationalizing that saddling and riding five or six horses a day is going to burn a lot of calories. And so it does. During the Winter . . . it's about movies, sleeping . . . now working at a desk job . . . and the calorie intake rarely changes, resulting in an annual weight gain that is never quite offset by the next three seasons that follow. I have consistently put on at least three to five pounds a year that has never gone anywhere except maybe to shift from thigh to belly and back again.

This complicates horsemanship. It's very difficult to ride correctly when one's weight is out of control. This does not mean to say heavy people should not ride, by all means, DO!! I do, I encourage my husband to ride and he's really packed on some pounds, but in all fairness to the horse, there has to be a limit. For myself, as a trainer, my reflexes have slowed, it's way too easy to get off balance if a horse shifts suddenly, and I don't have the strength and the stamina I once took for granted. I am 48 years old, and some of this just comes with the territory. Some of it comes with too many trips to the fridge.

Back to fat girls and pilate balls. I am determined to not allow this trend to continue. Horses, good horsemanship and horse training are what I live, breathe and continue to get up in the morning for . . . I have never been one to really care about my silhouette, or how slick I look in my cowgirl jeans, but I very much do care that my body does what I tell it to, when I tell it to, and that I can function properly in the world in which I live. Looking good is a byproduct, although surely not the worst one I can think of. I bought a ball. Actually I bought a whole box of stuff, ball, resistance bands and the dvd without which that stuff would sit in the closet and gather dust.

Let me tell you, I don't like to work out. Tonight, balancing precariously on that damn, unruly ball, listen to the chirpy merciless bee yach on the dvd, I remember why. It hurts. I get out of breath. In a word, it sucks. I now have pain in places that I barely remember having. I also discover I am much weaker on my left side. I have a plate in my left collar bone (thanks to a horse wreck) and also broke my humerus on that side, a few years back (another horse wreck) as well as some assorted broken, bruised ribs, muscular injury, that kind of thing. Apparently, I really baby that side of myself, as the resistance band nearly undid me, attempting lat pulls, bicep stretches and curls . . . geez, I am not even fond of the terminology. Still, I have images of effortless posting, bareback starting of colts without me gracelessly tumbling off one side or another, a leaner look for the ring judge . . . None of which is possible, as far as I can tell without some large dietary adjustments, and the incorporation of this ball, that dvd, and some sweat, blood and maybe tears on my part.

So, anyway, this is 2009 for me. I am not one much for setting resolutions, finding them quickly broken and discarded, but a healthier lifestyle (much in keeping with the unfinished business blog of a couple of months ago) is non negotiable to continue doing what I love so very much at the level to which I aspire. It's going to involve baby steps, some forward, some back, but with eyes fixed firmly ahead. There are a few more changes taking place, as well, to keep my brain and soul healthy as well as my body, but that's subject for another blog down the way. My horses will thank me.

You may have noticed I did not change the photos, as I usually do, for this particular blog. Umm. Yeah. There will be NO photos of this particular journey. Not until, what? '10 . . . yeah, maybe. In the meantime, good ol' Hawkeye can stay put.

Outside in . . .

2008-11-25T05:04:00.003-06:00

We talk a lot, in my circles, about building confidence. Generally, we are speaking of rider confidence. We talk a lot about respect, too, and how important it is for our horses to respect our leadership. This year, in particular, I have been very focused on building confidence in my horses and have watched the respect arise out of the process.

In particular, I thinking about Hawkeye. He is a seven year old (you know, I need to look at his papers, six? Eight? Anyway) Paint gelding that I picked up at a sale last Spring. Quite frankly, the purchase was based on his flashy color and the fact that a kid I know jumped on him in the sale ring (his owner was leading him under saddle but didn't want to mount, definitely had the bid coming my way) and the horse didn't so much as widen his eye. Doubled his price, to my chagrin, but in for a penny, in for a pound, and I brought him home.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I had booked myself with a very solid training schedule, acquired a couple more owner rejects (lots of those to be had this year, and some good projects if you keep an eye open) and I soon found myself overwhelmed with "to do's" and nary enough time to get 'er done!

I had a saddle horse in training that was not working out and I recommended my friend send him to what I fondly refer to as "cowboy camp." These are a couple of high school age young men, and their dad. They raise as nice a foundation bred Quarter Horse as anyone I know and are as honest and dedicated to their ride schedule as anyone I know, including my own self. If it rains, you'll probably find me indoors . . . you'd find them in the saddle, slicker and all. Miles is what I thought the horse needed, and some sheer guts enough to ride him through his panics and get him to the other side. I knew all those boys had plenty of the above, and some to spare. I had an empty side to the trailer on the way down, so filled it with Hawkeye.

I need to be careful how I proceed here because the "cowboys" did exactly what I paid them to do, they put honest miles on my horse. Saddled him every day, took him out to see the world. What they did not do, is not on their resume and not their fault. The last thing I want is for it to sound like I am bashing my good friends, I'm not. What I am going to state is that their training is very straight forward and a whole lot of what I think you find in the world of 30 day riders, and maybe better than a lot of them. They get the job done, and my horse came home, safe to be on top of, and that's exactly what I sent him for.

That said . . . What I am learning and focusing on, increasingly, is training the inside of the horse before I touch the outside. What the heck does that mean? says you, my befuddled reader. Well, what that means is that I teach the horse some simple ground rules, such as you give to pressure and I will release you AS you are heading toward the give. Afterwards is too late. You come to pressure when I ask, and I release you as your weight is shifting and you are in motion in my direction. I am consistent, and I let the horse do what it needs to do to figure these things out. I understand that horses are not setting out to be naughty, they aren't deliberately defying my will because they want to fight with me. How goofy, yet some people think these ways. I teach my horses to feel safe with me, to look TO me in times of trouble, and it's done through giving the horse a job they can understand and get comfortable with. Ray Hunt says it's our job to keep our horses out of trouble. He says it doesn't mean they won't get in trouble, from time to time, but it's our job to try to stay just on the good side of that fine line.

Horses don't speak human, and we most often, don't speak horse. We give a cue that seems pretty obvious, to us (try having someone stand behind you, hold on the bit in your hands and try to figure out what they want . . .) and the horse does what he thinks he needs to do. Sometimes, they get it right (for us) quickly, other times they have to seek, a lot of times, if they are aggravated half to death by then, the answer is No, I don't WANNA . . . I take responsiblity for keeping the energy up in my horse and rewarding the effort. As difficult as it is for impatient me to jump in and cue some more, while my horse is searching for the answer, if I leave them alone and let them come to it on their own, we sure do get where I wanted to go, a whole lot quicker.

So, here we have Hawkeye, trained from the outside in. Can be caught, saddled, bridled, taken down the road. Drives like a mack truck, feet not remotely attached to the reins, has no notion of following or yielding to weight shifts and pressure. Those things don't mean anything to him, and there is no reason that they should. I've given sporadic effort to "fixing" him this summer, never really dedicating a whole lot of time to this introverted, distant horse, just wanting him to "shape up" and come along.

A few weeks ago, my friend Annette was riding him for me, went to kick him into a canter and he would have bucked, had he been allowed. A frown has been on my face about him ever since. Not because of his reaction to a cue that startled him, but because I have been ignoring his needs, ever since I loaded him into the trailer on that dark Saturday Wahoo, NE night.

I've ridden him a few times since then, but the most ground was gained the other night in the barn. Me not even in the saddle. I was going to mount up and ride, and thought, what the hey, let's do some groundwork, shall we? Haven't felt the need to do much of that with this horse, heck I paid to have him riding so riding I will, again, right?

Did the stirrup slap exercise and poor old Hawk about jumped out of his skin. Hmm. Kept at it til he was quiet, the eye that almost never rolls my way, was sneaking glances. (Whatever happened to "both ears, both eyes, Ter?) Stiff as a board on his lateral flexion (this is a horse that turns his neck upside down in fear of bit pressure, and I have yet to help that), I asked him to do the "sniff your tail" exercise. Hawkeye's thick black tail is long and flowing so you'd not think it difficult . . . as I spun with him and ran to keep up with the fleeing hind. Something happened in him when he relaxed and gave into his own pressure. I wasn't "making" him, I wasn't fixing him, I wasn't putting something on him. He was pulling on himself (so we wanted him to think) and as he relaxed into it, the disinterested ears came up, the eyes softened and he looked at me. An idea clicked into place inside that bony skull.

Not much'a nuthin, you might think. I'm telling you, he looked a different horse. Ewe neck straightened out as the tension fell out of his topline, he squared up and looked at me, level. I saw once again the attractive gelding I had picked up for more than I planned to but far less than I thought he was worth.

Things happen to horses that do not make sense to them and they lose confidence in what the human is trying to get done. I see this over and over, and sometimes I am the perpetrator though I try hard not to be. We say "gee, I wish my horse could talk" and then blow through thresholds that the horse is trying to explain to us til the whisper turns to a scream and maybe someone goes to the Emergency Room for hearing aid treatment (or broken bones, however you want to look at it). Taking the time it takes would seem to be time consuming, but we always find time to fix whatever we didn't do right the first time. There are no shortcuts in horse training, and I want them as badly as anyone, would love the magic gadget, the perfect bit, the fall off proof saddle. Ain't gonna happen.

I do those simple exercises, hip over, front end through, incorporating squeezes, barrel play, over things, under things, backing circles, up and down hills, doesn't matter. What does matter is that I remain consistent in my requests and my release, thus building the horse's faith that I know what I am talking about, understand what I am asking for, and am willing to see the journey through with him. Setting boundaries helps my horse trust that I am capable of taking care of him, should the wolves roll in. The beauty part is that I end up with a soft horse that knows how to handle his feet, body and is light in my hands, not so bad, that, huh? That's what it means that it's not the tools you use, not the technique, but how you use them and when you quit is where you teach.

Watching big changes take place in a tuned out, introverted turned off horse that has refused to find a home til I do my job for him, sinks these lessons home in me, once again. It's a two way street, you know. As the horse trusts and respects me, so do I gain confidence in what we can attain together. I don't think I believe that the one can take place without the other. Lucky for Hawk, I have figured out, I have to come from the inside out, not the outside in . . .

Happy Trails!