A Day Of Lessons

 

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.