First off, Bandit. We completed our second NATRC ride, minus tornadic interference, at the Six-O Ranch near Cleburne, Texas, about five hours north. I received a fourth place in Lightweight Novice (it still tickles me that I'm considered a lightweight; all hefty 5'10" of me; YAY for treeless tack!) Horsemanship again, but The Band-Aid moved up to claim a sixth place ribbon in his class! I feel especially good knowing that he completely blew his second pulse & respiration check by blowing a gasket over nothing. His other two, where he behaved as a normal animal might, were excellent— which is even more impressive considering he was jigging, head-tossing, and egged on to bolt for 29.5 out of the 30 miles. I truly enjoyed meeting the other CTR competitors again; they are a very open-armed bunch and I felt more at ease putting Bandit at the very head of his class, paced with a handsome TWH and his friendly, chatty owner. We rode both days together, and while I eked out one placing above her in horsemanship skills, she swept our division for overall combined placing. Reactions to seeing my flashy little bastard ranged from people exclaiming over his good looks (nobody, I repeat, NOBODY thinks he's handsome in West Texas.. or South Central Texas for that matter) and his color and his behavior akin to that of a four-year-old. Once I explain he is seventeen, I get one of two reactions. One, "I never would have guessed! Don't worry, he will settle down soon." And two, "Do you think you should try the Open Division? What about endurance racing?" I take the second as a compliment not in that we are fantastic at NATRC, (we aren't at all, and we run through half of the obstacles) but in that my old horse maintains enough energy to be a ball of crazy from Mile 1 to Mile 30, two days in a row. He isn't a bit tired at the end of it, despite taking half of the ride at an interesting side-steppy parade lope.
So, I stick to my belief that Bandito is A Special Case and that he is truly the only horse of his kind in my lifetime, through the faults of my own, his owners before him, and his own nature. Whether that proves to be a good or bad thing, I may only be able to answer as a (hopefully) old lady.
Our dressage riding has been going pretty well. After the Mike Vermaas classical clinic last fall, I finally pushed forward to begin lessons with somebody more local and more affordable. Sally takes an approach a la Centered Riding, and while I have not seen the dramatic and elegant change Mike showed me through an hour or two of work with Bandy, she is a warm and truthful instructor and gives straightforward but challenging homework to take back with us. Right now, I am working on identifying footfalls through feel and subsequently knowing where my core needs to be with each stride my horse takes. (What a drastic change from "Lock your heels down, eyes up, shoulders back, WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T BOUNCE!" that I have been taught and was guilty of teaching.) For our rides, I've been combining Sally's Centered Riding techniques to develop myself while asking Bandit for the give that Mike was able to bring out in us. And I've been reading the pants off of every dressage book I can, most of which sail over my head. But proof is in the pudding— I am really looking forward to seeing Sally in a week and showing her that yes, in fact, we are capable of 20 meter circles and being in the neighborhood of being on the bit! It has been a lot of bareback work and digging a hole in our crappy arena from hoofprints in the damp.
Still feeling out the Dr. Cook's bridle. We have had some excellent progress with it in the arena and roundpen, and I've found he has settled in to the different pressure well and is able to collect himself almost as consistently as with the snaffle. But.. Julie came over last week and brought Artex, and we went on a nice after-work ride around camp. Bandit walks, trots, canters peacefully and happily on a loose rein with the bitless as long as he is in the lead. However, when we switched into a higher gear and let Artex take the lead (because Artex, too, sort of sucks at being a follower) it was like Bandit was wearing a soft, cottony halter. Little to no response, nose braced against the pressure, not listening a lick.. I had to pull out the one-rein e-brake, and I RARELY have had to do that in my life. Granted, putting a zippy little horse into a race situation is not the smartest way to push the limits of a piece of equipment we have only been using for a couple of months, but it has deterred me from choosing the Dr. Cook's for high-speed trail work with friends. If we are on our own, it's still an excellent tool that we are learning to explore more and more. Going to keep our hands on the Little "S" hack for CTRs, however.
Pax is truly the benevolent barn princess. I've said that before and will again a thousand times in her life, but you have to watch the herd in action for a bit to understand. The Potomac Fever clearly did not stunt her growth noticeably; she is a beheamoth of a long yearling with hunks of thick gold mane that rivals my hair in length. She floats around the pasture with a big, lazy trot with surprisingly few dirty looks, even from the Evil Mare Society we house in our pasture. She has maintained petite Quarab Karat as a lady-in-waiting, but fellow giant Marquee (our LOPE OTTB) is now her queen's consort and I can't help but worry what can happen when those two monsters get moving.
I get nervous that she may get a mind to clear a fence at some point, so we have switched to gentle lunging on a line instead of work in the round pen. She's in a flightier mindset than a few months ago, but I think you can chalk that up to hormones and cold weather. We've been working on moving hind- and fore-quarters independently and I know I need to rig up some long lines so we may begin a little ground driving in the proper spring. Vet was surprised and pleased at how full her recovery has been (also said I could stop worrying about her round belly) and the vet exclaimed "that's the best behaved yearling I know!" which is pretty good praise, considering they spent 10 days with her at the clinic in August.
Great personality, through and through. She graciously visits every person who comes to call on her, no matter what. She is a lover and she knows her source of comfort. Love that big girl. Sometimes I stare at her and have to convince myself again she is mine. Then I get to thinking, What the hell am I going to do with a horse like this? And then I go pick up where I left off in an issue of Dressage Today and start hoping a lot.
And as for Indigo, he is out being a horse. Our elementary, under-saddle sessions sort of stalled after early December for no other reason that other things took precedence and time got short. I am not comfortable starting real work under saddle until late 3 / 4, so he has plenty of time. We have enjoyed several good groundwork sessions, working on manners and leading and following the push of applied pressure. And not trying to eat hands. The line between hands and food sometimes seems fuzzy, though he is sharp as a tack on most everything else. In the past couple of months, he has started the transition from being Interested Observer of New Humans in the pasture to being bold enough and confident enough in himself to step up and get friendly. Crazy to think that exactly a year ago, he was a scruffy, untouched two-year-old in a Nevada valley. He is a horse that will do well with the right kind of confidence boost and providing I stay structured. From what I understand of BLM horses going wrong in their training, I know I have to nip issues in the bud quickly. For me, that means going very slowly, despite a clever pupil.
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I read some really interesting advice at the back of Equus this month. A novice woman bought a green horse for the first time, and an experienced horseman told her to simply talk to her horse through every minute of her progress with him. She said it worked, clearly not because the horse picked up on fluent English, but because (1) it calmed her down and lowered the tension between them and (2) her cadence and tone deeply affected the horse's response and action. Maybe not constantly, but I should get more comfortable with carrying on a conversation with my horses while we work. Despite a nagging feeling I might look insane.
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In final bits and pieces, I spent last Saturday afternoon in Center Point watching a handful of ladies do some groundwork with their respective horses using Pat Parelli's Natural Horsemanship methods. It was very interesting; I've been around one Parelli trainer and watched a handful of his videos and saw some different approaches to making communication between horse and handler more fluid. Still not convinced it is The Only Way, but I don't think there is any One Way. I was offered some one-on-one instruction on his methods and the games (only a few of which I really remember well) from the ranch owner and I plan on taking her up on it if our schedules ever align. Always good to learn more.
Looked at a very cute gelding who I wish were about two inches taller. Richard doesn't exactly need a horse at the minute, but he caught my attention in part because he reminded me of a bolder version of Bandit, and in part because he was a handsome little guy. We will see where Blackjack ends up..
I spoke for the Equestrian Track of the 2011 Southwest Camping Conference last week along with two other professionals and our vet. Talked about our Adopt-a-Horse lesson program and our extended private lease agreements. It went quite well, actually. Met some other camp horse people, loved touring Camp Waldemar.
I've been roped into hauling a horse for a good friend to a polocrosse clinic on Saturday. I am not bringing a horse and can only stay to "audit" a couple of hours, but it should be interesting. The fellows name is Guy Roberts, apparently a big deal among polocrosse players in England. Always love getting a chance to watch a true professional, even if I can't envision my horse being slightly okay with flying balls and sticks during a fast-paced game. It would be kind of fun to do with friends, but my optimism isn't overwhelming. Bandit and I already broadened our horizons enough last year to last awhile.
Richard leaves for the Oklahoma Horseshoeing School this Saturday for a shorter term than we originally thought. His work with my farrier has gone well and he is eager to get back here and learn more while working. I'm proud of him for finding something that clearly drives him passionately more than his degree did, nervous about the entrepreneurial aspect of the job (this coming from a woman who loves the relative stability of working for the YMCA or the park service) and secretly quite pleased with myself for marrying a farrier and not even knowing it. He's been working hard, and it shows. He has a lot to learn but is one of those people with a damnable natural ability to pick things up, and a good mind when dealing with people and animals. His mum and sister are accomplished horsewomen and he learned his horsemanship early in the U.K. I'll miss him— and his help around the barn!
Ride on,
M.A.
