Riding with my mind

Friend Nat, me, and the sleepy Paxfilly herself.

Clearly, blogging has not been my focus nor my strength in the past months. After my fear post in November, I received some amazing feedback through comments, e-mails, and even a phone call or two. Much thanks for that. It would be a lie to say "I'm over it!" but also a lie to say I haven't improved daily. No, I'm not riding Indigo yet. I'm not ready, and obviously he is not, either— I've let him be more or less dormant, minus a few ground lessons, and where his manners were fair before, he's adopted a much less go-with-the-flow attitude. Several people, my husband included, have generously offered to work with me and mount him the first time themselves.. I'm not ruling that out, and it might help, but worse than hurting myself is the thought of getting someone else banged up because of my own insecurities. Though I'm not ready for that step on my own, I'm doing fine on other horses and losing the heart-in-the-throat feeling that mounting a squirrelly horse gave me so strongly after the incident in Utopia. I push myself a little bit every time I ride someone new, and it feels better and better. Not like it used to be, but that's fine. I can be patient.

I have worked with Pax, and see her going off to be properly started next fall. She has taken to —sigh..— jumping things. Like fences, and gates. And barrels. And I think the corner of the plastic round bale holders. She lept out of the arena two weeks ago and only slightly snagged her back feet. Hoping it is all a phase, in part because.. (exciting news to follow:)

Camp is finally getting a new riding arena! Of real pipe! And real footing! And even level ground!

Finally, the stars have aligned and the right people have uttered the word "yes" and it looks like we should have the old arena, tacking area, and corral torn down and a new structure standing by the beginning of March. Sounds like a potential donor has committed to getting us sand footing and railroad ties to line and elevate the arena itself, providing the solid, safe, less rocky ground that will benefit our kids and our horses. Can't express how stoked I am, and likewise how thankful. Temporary fencing has gone up and tomorrow the tear-down process begins. Riding lessons cancelled for the rest of February, though you bet I will still be riding Bandit.

Bandit.. My hero. Through all of this anxiety junk, he's been about as good as I could ask him. He has packed me on trails at weird hours of the day, and put up with my dressage-dreams-fueled weird exercises and experiments that come to me from nowhere. We dealt with some grouchiness and pain issues at our last regular dressage lesson, and swapped some things around (extracted his ground-down wolf teeth; powerfloated; de-beaned; trimmed; restarted SmartFlex Senior.) I was more than a little nervous that he'd turn up lame or not turn up at all, so to speak, at the Joan Bolton clinic we lucked into riding in. Instead, I learned (within minutes) all the ways that I was exacerbating his flaws and giving him all kinds of reasons to protest the gymnastic elements of dressage that are lacking in our normal skill set. By the end of the ride, you couldn't have Windexed the smile off of my face. 

Clinic, 1-27-2012. Come so far, and so far yet to go!

Both Cindy, the instructor I've been riding with north of Kerrville, and Joan (and Heather Blitz, rider of the great Paragon) practice riding through biomechanics, as conceptualized and taught by Mary Wanless. From Mrs. Blitz's website, linked to above:

The person who has been the biggest influence in my riding is my biomechanics coach, Mary Wanless.  I met Mary in 1993 and have continued to learn from her to the present.  Her research into the effect of riders’ bodies on horses is extensive and unique and not found in more “traditional” training.  Her theories continue miles beyond teaching the beginner to improve their seat.   The more advanced I become in my riding,  I find her even more helpful.  Like a mechanic tuning my engine as I need more and more technique, power and refinement.  As you progress up the levels, it gets harder and harder to find words to describe what we’re trying to achieve  but Mary’s style, using analogies and sensory feedback allows for amazing communication and understanding in a world of feel and timing.  I have always had a special niche in my own teaching because of my education from Mary and will forever be grateful for the day I was introduced to her. 

Bible-like. Kept by my bedside.

Reading Wanless' Ride with Your Mind Masterclass and Ride with Your Mind Essentials is changing my riding every day. I used the Essentials text to focus my attention on one muscle group at a time, and was quite quickly lead to the realization that there are many notions of horsemanship that I absolutely must let go. The balance, seat, and leg that I've received compliments (and good horsemanship scores) on repeatedly leave me vulnerable to a dozen traps that break the energy flow that can suddenly turn an acceptable ride into a connected, lifted, and beautiful one. We are so far from making that the norm, but those fleeting moments of roundness and softness are happening more and more often and I'm slowly developing the muscle memory to know where I need to be in order for the beauty in him to come out. I realize I would be eternally farther along in the process if I could spend some time riding a schoolmaster and being taught how and when to press the buttons to receive the award. Instead, it's a joint process with two personalities and two sets of flaws to contend with, as well as thirty-three years of bad habits between us. Outside of this circle of riders I've become privy to (weather through the barn I've been riding at or through YouTube searches of horse-and-rider teams employing the same principles) I have not seen riding like this. I want it, badly. 

My involvement in NATRC currently hovers at sitting on the advisory board of the newsletter and editing things for the Hoof Print. I'm glad I get to be involved there, but I'm completely looking forward to competing in the Wimberly Wayfarer later in the spring. Wimberly is another gorgeous Hill Country town, closer to Austin, and I think the familiar scenery could lend a little calm to my bucket o' crazy pony. He is so prone to absorbing the atmosphere around him.. at the dressage clinic, he was miraculously the quietest, most well-behaved little gelding of the bunch. I got several compliments on his ability to stand tied anywhere I put him; a skill honed strictly from trying to learn the ropes of long distance competitive trail. Yet when we're at CTRs, he's a bucket of nerves who tries to remove his eyeball and instead removes the trailer door, all in one foul swoop because a completely familiar person got a completely unremarkable distance away from him. Oh well. Can't have it all, and I'm lucky to have my old man!

Deconstructing some fear stuff.

I kid you not, this was my fortune at supper last night.

I have recently discovered being scared.

Like, really scared.

From my understanding, (and Equus, etc. subscriptions) riders of all natures deal with fear at one point or another.  Also, the only riders I've met who never deal with any twinge of fear are idiots as a general rule.

But for the multitude of things I am scared of in life— heights being at the top of the list— horsemanship has always been a very controllable subject. Doofy horses might put my senses on higher alert, but I'd ride them.. and often liked to.

I have a good sized list of things I will not do because I don't think they are worth the risk anymore, personally. I haven't ridden without a helmet since I was 22. I haven't ridden double since I was a teenager. I got confident enough to gallop around bareback in college but don't feel the urge to go that fast without a saddle again. Riding on busy roads does not excite me. Moving fast on slick pavement with any kind of grade has made me nervous since a fall I had at the age of 20. I've always known I can sit a few bucks, but no bronc busting. I wish I could say I never ride alone, but I don't have that luxury. Becoming the director of an equestrian program instead of just a hired hand changed a lot of the way I ride, and I started defining my boundaries a bit.. but for the most part, it made me a better rider. I think everyone has their limits. I also knew (know?) what I was (am?) good at, and worked to better what I sucked at.

Yesterday, I went to go ride. I have been advised by my doctor to stay off of horses preferably through November and into December, but I've had to ride several times during that time period and felt fine afterwards. One of my duties and one of the things I really enjoy is trying out and working on new camp horse acquisitions— figuring out what they're good at, what needs tuning up, and which students or campers would benefit from riding them. Our farrier brought us an older, half-blind black mare a few weeks ago who is broke as anything. He used "Jessie" for mounted shooting, apparently, and general ranch work, but she's past the age of being terribly useful at any jobs involving speed.. Exactly the age we want for a good-natured babysitter horse.

I've had a few weeks to get to know Jessie on the ground, so while my husband was trimming ponies down at the barn, I tacked her up and lead her out to the arena to take her for a test drive. She hasn't been used in a year or so, but had given us no reason to doubt her usefulness. I lead her to the mounting block, stood on the top step, and started to put a foot in the stirrup. As many slightly pissy old mares do, she flapped her lips and twitched her tail. I hesitated. And then I started to shake, and, shortly thereafter, cry.

Jessie Girl.. half asleep. As usual.

(It is not fun to write that.)

Richard had been watching me the entire time, and he came over to see what on Earth I was doing. Because he has a huge heart (and probably because he's a camp guy, weekend wrangler, and used to the occasional hysterical little girl) he talked me through swinging over and— again, this pains me to write— lead me around the arena about half a lap. I had composed myself by then and rode her for a half hour or so, sans lead line, and she was fine. Rusty, grouchy, and slow.. but perfectly fine.

A couple of days before Jessie, my former boss (and friend) put me on his three-year-old colt to lead trail rides. I was perfectly fine with that. The colt, "Smiley," was incredibly well-mannered and polite, but he's still just a baby and I didn't hesitate to ride him. He even boogered once, and I probably tensed more than I normally would, but we moved on and had a nice time. I think perhaps I wasn't as afraid because I wasn't the boss in that situation. Sure, in my short relationship with my horse, I was the boss.. But there was my actual boss there, maybe not physically, but I was doing a job he asked me to do and I had no problem with executing it and leaving that young horse hopefully a tiny bit better for his widened experience. Not real fear on my part. But when I'm the top dog at my own place, I burst into tears getting on a geriatric, sleepy ranch horse. 

What brought this crap on?

I'm tired of telling the story, but if you recall my last post about taking three-year-old mustang Indigo to his first ACTHA ride.. I took him, but we didn't get to go on the actual trail ride. Instead, he transformed from the quietest, un-phaseable colt I've ever met to a real fun little bronc. He tossed me before I could even get in the saddle the first time and continued to buck for close to 90 seconds. (I checked my watch.) 

Smiley.

I ignored my guts, which told me to quit. I also ignored my experience, which (should have) told me to stop and figure out what had made this little horse do such a violent 180 in his behavior.

Instead, I got back on (and was bolted and tossed in very short succession) not once, but twice. I had to be picked off the ground on the last go-around, but besides doing some damage to the normal alignment of my skeletal system and being bed ridden for a day, I came off gloriously unscathed.

He's been to a chiro, who reports (a) saddle fit pain (b) possibly the remnants of a fall, equalling misalignment of his spine and a tilted pelvis (c) tenseness and muscle overcompensation all over his body. He has shown us twice that he is ready and willing to buck again when you try and step a foot in the saddle. I have not done any more than that.

I've been to a chiro, who says my legs are crooked, my pelvis is wonky, and my lower back is toast. Which I knew. Not to snark what she does; it was a huge help! 

I took him to a Natural Horsemanship ground clinic. He has been reported to be a "left-brained introvert" on the "Parelli Horsenality" spectrum, "extremely passive-aggressive," and "potentially dangerous or violent." I really liked the folks at the clinic, but I'd also like to believe they are wrong. We had some success with the Seven Games and I don't discount their use. But I didn't walk away feeling terribly encouraged about him. I'm not done trying, and he is still sore. Those are notes for a later date, anyways.

To sum it up and psychoanalyze myself.. I'm primarily scared of getting injured. Potentially much, much worse than I was. (I got off quite good, with a couple of weeks of a really cool limp.) But fueling that is a hypersensitivity to every ear twitch and stomp and snort— I'm terrified I'm going to overlook the warning signs that I'm about to become a lawn dart again. And I have a tough time trusting my mount. I trusted Indigo with a lot last summer, and he never once gave me a reason to doubt him. There is a sense of failure in my first solo experiment in training a horse from square one. There is frustration. And yep, definitely still a hefty dose of fear at the thought of sitting on him again. I've fallen off more times than I can count (like most riders, probably)— but this was definitely different.

Anyway.. what to do about it?

Obviously, seek help. I don't have dozens of horse friends in the area who I would want to take instruction from (doesn't that sound witchy?) But there are others I trust and want to learn from who have offered to help with Indigo. I have (and will) use them, plus the equine chiro and our vet. I am not at all ready to get back on him again, but if pain is any indication, he isn't ready to carry a rider, either.

I loved the woman I was taking dressage lessons from with Bandit, and I will be using her again as soon as she gets back from training in Florida. I have a couple of leads on other trainers and instructors who I may have to drive a bit to utilize, but I think it's worth it.

And I'm just going to keep riding. I dismissed my two months with no riding because I was afraid my nervousness would only get worse. Riding Bandit has helped; even though he is far from a Steady Eddie, I know his moves and I trust our relationship. Unfortunately, he is still recovering so I'm limited in what we do. (That bad eye looks pretty good, though!) I'm going to ride Jessie and Ranger, who are new (they need it before they go into lessons) but who I know are well broke and relatively mindful.  I'm going to get back on Annie next week and see if going back to twice weekly rides will help her with her chronic witchiness.

I wish I had more people to ride with. Not experts, just horse folks. I wish I could be at a boarding  barn sometimes, and this is one of those times. I miss the horse community— not the great one that exists when I get to be at NATRC rides, or the one I have on Facebook thanks to a short lifetime of riding and acquiring friends along the way. But actual human beings to ride with, so I'm not always the one at the barn by myself. Would that solve everything? No way, but it would make things easier. 

"The horse doesn't love you." — Jere Johnson
But I am so glad to have my old man to totter around on!

Possibly the best advice I've received thus far is to stop replaying the bad memory over and over again. I haven't been able to quit completely, but I think about it less frequently. There's something masochisticly pleasing about hitting the "replay" button on that mental tape.. and hitting the ground over, and over, and over again. Gah. Sucks.

But it is getting better!

Have you had a sudden onset of fear while riding? What've you done about it?

I confess to taking some inspiration to write about all of this from a blog called Drafts with Dots; the writer had a nasty incident involving back hooves and her face, and is still in the process of recovery. She writes much more frequently and poignantly than I do, and the fact that she could do it prompted me to try. I think the simple act of typing out the things I hate to think about banishes some of the squicky gut feelings. I know I'm getting better. And at the end of the day, I still absolutely love to ride.. and almost more so, I love to teach children to love riding like I do.

Catch-up; catching the wild horse; catching a bad attitude before it gets worse.

Well!

We survived summer. The start was rocky, for lots of reasons that don't particularly belong here, but thanks to good help we made it through keeping kids safe and reasonably happy. The temperatures were unbelievable— read, crazy-mother-trucking-hot and devoid of any kind of moisture. Having a huge herd of thirty was more work than before but worth it; I don't think anyone got particularly fatigued despite a heavier workload of kids and the NightRyder program adding a little bit of work in the evening. We have pulled some of the old horses up to a great weight, but there are some others in their early or mid twenties who lost condition that we are still trying to recover. The joys of old, worn and wonderful hand-me-down horses.

Leading a ride in July.

Indigo, the first mustang colt, was a great success. He had two rough spots, to include randomly falling off of a three-inch cliff with Tiffany for no apparent reason. (Stood back up before she could even step off, so it was chalked up to being a dummy three-year-old who doesn't know where to place his feet.) And I got ballsy and put an "advanced" camper with a relatively weak seat on his back.. bareback. He had been great for everybody else, but she slumped forward onto his shoulder and he took a step to the left and dropped her less than five seconds after she'd mounted. She was fine and he luckily didn't pick up the hint that it's possible to dump people on purpose. I used him to lead trail rides all day, several days a week, and for a few Blue Bead ceremonies which went reasonably well considering I was jumpy being bareback, helmetless, and in front of a big crowd. He carried about five different campers, all competent riders, during NightRyders and Saddle Club, as well as a couple of novice counselors. Not bad for three.

Here's a post on the camp blog from one of our great Saddle Club girls; she writes a little about her experience using Indy for our pony games day.

Bandit is large and lazy. He didn't get as much work this summer thanks to Inders, but behaved when he did. I am for some reason not panicked about getting him ready for the Pole Canyon CTR; I had intended to ride Open division for the first time to get experience doing the mileage, but for a couple of reasons, have stuck to Novice. I know that, continuing with our conditioning rides for the coming weeks and barring injury, he will be able to do the distance, especially in an area that is challenging because it's rocky— like home! Like Alpine!— instead of deep and sandy. We'll blow some more obstacles, but I'm totally ready to be back. Plus, there's a horsemanship clinic the day before, so we are hauling early and maybe that will take the edge off. I'm excited!

Bandito was featured in a blog / article I wrote for Long Riders' Gear, which will also go in the NATRC HoofPrint. Crazy boy— Competitive Trail Riding: A Newbie's Perspective.

Awkward photo, but see?! Her head is starting to fit!

Pax, who gets little press here considering she is the title feature, is growing into her head. Yikes, that's the best update I can give ya? She is doing exactly what two-year-olds should do, in my opinion— getting a few lessons on ground manners, carrying a saddle around occasionally, and eating and growing and being adorable. Her back has lengthened, which I'm not thrilled about, but she is coming into proportion and I think she moves a little better than before. I'm looking into buying a friend's Collegiate dressage saddle; a good buy on a nice, basic piece of tack that I hope will last me through the next year or so until I can afford something nicer without risking making the car payment, etc. At that point, she'll be closer to full grown and easier to eyeball a good fit for. She is the "lovey-est" horse I've been around in forever— when we left for twelve days for Northern Ireland, she was the first horse to meet me at the fence (not in the feeding location, either) at a dead sprint, looking for pats. She honestly seemed happy to see us.

ApHC Suprise Hayley Annie

I have an offer to take a horse on free lease that's tempting. Granted, we have more than enough projects to go around here, but she's somewhat of a special case in my very skewed handbook— she is Bandit's five-year-old half sister. And she's cute. Compact, like her broseph. Great color, if you like Apps. She's green broke, which is nice in that she's at least rideable. And I am sure she needs some work. I not-so-secretly would love her to be a follow up NATRC horse to replace Bandit in a few years. The guy who owns her claims to love her but is in the process of moving. I don't want to buy her —she isn't worth $1500 in my book, despite better than average bloodlines. $1500 green broke "cute" horse is a joke right now in this part of the world. I mean, I do want to meet her. I would also like to work with her. I just don't know how far I want to go; I'm a little worried about falling in love with her and having her snatched off to California just as I get her going well. And I'm also worried she might be a nightmare. Worth going to look at her next Tuesday? Worth taking a trailer with me? Worth drawing up paperwork? Thoughts?

And finally.. Flint. Flint is our second mustang, a three year old gelding out of the Adoble Wells HMA in southern Wyoming. Tiffany, her boss and America's Favorite Trail Horse* finalist TJ, and I drove up to beautiful Colorado in the middle of a very hot August.

* See the trailer below, if you haven't already. Exciting to have an equestrian reality TV show that isn't about the racing industry, whatever your thoughts on ACTHA and competitive trail riding are!

CFA Flint Rock's "beachy" hairdo.

Flint is more of a challenge than Indigo was. He was older when he came out of the wild, older when he was gelded, older when he came to camp. He and Inders are just now the same age. I am okay with this. I wanted this. We got to haltering and leading in about the same amount of time. I was more confident and I had my own schedule of milestones to hit. We spent the days before my trip to the U.K. leading around camp, learning about grooming and tying and all the basics. He was flighty, but smart and willing and a big "mama's boy." He spazzed, but recovered by standing behind my shoulder and waiting. Then I got cocky yesterday and put the two mustang boys together in the arena. They were perfect— could catch them both, no big quarrels. I worked the two of them at liberty together. Indy joined up right away and stayed at my shoulder until I brought Flint around. I moved the two of them as a unit. Indigo was definitely the leader and he was nearly flawless. I could kick myself for using one green colt to work another green colt, but I assure you that the dynamic worked and our first BLM pony is a treasure. A weird treasure, but a treasure.

Brosephs.

Anyway. I was feeling sorry for Flint being cooped up in his pen for so long after a lifetime of herd dynamics, so I let the two boys stay in the arena overnight with some hay and water. This morning, Richard and I were up early to feed and saddle twelve horses for a retreat. When I went to catch Flint.. He walked straight through our (incredibly shoddy, withering-cedar-post) arena fence, smashing it into splinters, and into the corral filled with all of the spare horses. I was immediately terrified for him getting the snot beat out of him.. Until he single-handedly took on all of the huge bully horses and commandeered the hay ring for himself. Here was this scrappy, girly looking grey pony colt laying the smack down on our duo of ornery, 16.2+ hh Thoroughbreds and everyone else.

Catching him took over twelve hours of on-and-off efforts. Now that he's learned he can push over fences, we couldn't push him hard enough to tire him for fear he'd just peace out and leave the premises— not good considering there's thirty weekenders here for the retreat. I was livid. And the first rule of horsemanship is to never do anything with haste and anger.. Two sentiments thundering through my veins. I managed to clip the lead on him, but was drug a little ways multiple times, which only exacerbated the problem and fueled the pony's desire to run. Long story short, my hero of a husband ended up coaxing him close enough to catch, then stuck out his protesting rears and fits until he had the colt under control. We've switched him to a halter with some more bite (nose knots) and returned him to his little metal panel pen. Back to basics tomorrow, and I have learned my lessons.

1. If you're that pissed off, stop.
2. Don't overestimate the flexibility and durability of the trust you've established with a wild animal. It's brittle. Like, really really brittle. Like, baked-cedar-pole-in-the-summertime brittle.
3. There are a few things your larger, stronger, testosterone-fueled spouse can do better. Like hold on to a lead rope with a bucket of angry crazy at the end.
4. Seriously, we need a new freaking fence. This year it ceased to be a funny talking point.
5. Angelic Indigo was a fluke. 
6. The drag rope idea to halter break worked brilliantly on more than one horse I've started or help start in the past. It can, as in this case, backfire. Flint is now adept at walking through a jerk on the lead rope. In fact, he's gotten quite good at it.

I'm so ready to do this better.

I ended this rather crappy day with the first ride on Indigo I've taken in awhile. Bandit got a little work this morning; now it was the colt's turn— I'm taking him to an ACTHA ride in the middle of October. Should be fun. I'm slightly worried about traumatizing him and, consequentially, getting my arse dumped, but optimistic that at least it will be a good experience for him and excited to ride with some friends and maybe make new ones.

Upcoming events:

Retreat next weekend; Tiff's coming to work.

New Hampshire the next weekend for a slighty crunchy sounding camp directors' retreat. I'm excited.

Pole Canyon NATRC ride second weekend of October, plus horsemanship clinic. (Get to use new, tiny LQ trailer! Excited!)

ACTHA ride in Utopia the next weekend.

Possibly taking a horse to the San Antonio Mustang Expo that next Friday.

Added..

Threw a couple more blogs on my "Suggested Reading" list to the right of this page. I'd check them out and follow 'em, had I not already.

Notes on the herd and my rides

I apologize, to the handful of you who read, for a decidedly long hiatus between posts here. Though I have been no less busy with horse-related things, those horse-related things tended to be work-related things. And I haven't been in a mindset to write, particularly, in part due to personal matters and the loss of my great Dad. That aside, I think it's time to catch up a bit.

Pax

I took the Very Large Filly on a walk the other day. I'm relatively certain that Taking Your Horse For a Walk doesn't make it into a lot of training books, but when I'm not close to being ready to get on her and not in the mood to long line or lunge, it is a nice way to get her mind out of the herd and onto her two-legged "mom." She was nervous, but mindful at the get-go, but I admire the fact that her nerves rarely manifest themselves into action. She is observant, rarely hesitant, and almost never flighty.. Except for when I started making a racket with my dressage whip in the tall pampas grass. That resulted in minor fireworks for a few minutes.

Satan's lair.

Anyhow, after we'd established that the pampas grass could be added to the "rather alarming but not malicious" list, Pax and I headed out the gate and down to the river crossing for our first swimming attempt. She is one of a handful of horses who tend to try and bathe in the elevated water troughs in the pasture, so I had high hopes— and was not disappointed. With just one sniff at the wide expanse of river and a pause to allow me to hike my shorts up and pull my boots on tighter (classy, yes) we stepped graciously in and waded around to both our chests' deep of the drink. She snuffled and played but remained a lady, and I acquired some brilliant blisters walking all the way back to the barn in sodden cowboy boots and swimwear. We stopped at a few spots on the way back to lunge on a shortened line and get back into "work, not rush home" mode, and she wasn't even pulling for the gate when we made it back in site of the equestrian center. Overall, I am proud of her. If I may have a moment to brag, she is growing up gorgeous. Very few PMU-mutts can ever pass the A+ confirmation test, and she certainly does not, but she is maturing into a balanced and graceful mare and I can't wait to see where things go in the next two years. My mom and I have discussed sending her to a proper trainer to get started. I've never done that before, but also only started one horse by myself under saddle.. and as she has been a bit of an investment, and I would like her to be worthy for low-level competition, it would be worth paying for sixty days of professional work. But that's a long way off. No reason to start her before fall 2012, if even then. June 1st will be her second birthday!

The Princess herself. Need to think of a good proper name for her soon.

Indigo

Tiff, a good friend and one of the part-time camp wranglers, started looking into a BLM horse seriously last week and I got to thinking about our little pinto 'stang boy sitting out in the pasture enjoying life and being lazy, and/or trying to hump a mare or two. (He's cut. I promise.) So I rigged up the borrowed surcingle over a western saddle, attached long lines after a little warm-up, figured ourselves out again in the round pen, and took the fellow driving around camp. He was great! A little bit of a gaffufle to get started, when we initially started moving away from our comfort zone of the equestrian center. We polished our "woah" and walk/trotted using voice cues, and I am able to cut back on the noise motivation from the stock whip I carry. I rarely if ever have to touch him with it, but he's lazy enough to wait for the threatening sound before moving off. But putting him in a new position and having to be the physical leader, while directing from behind, put Indy back on his toes and I got a nice little jog out of him through the kickball fields and down by the river. He is taking a while to truly soften to the bit, but he does accept it and bridles like a real boy now. His woah is good with contact, but it wasn't until this lesson that I felt him anticipate the sound a bit. I can't wait to get on him more this summer! And more mustangs for camp, with proper time and training, I think will be an excellent idea, especially in our aging herd. I wouldn't risk the online auction thing, but the drive to Colorado to really evaluate temperament and soundness was worth it. I think our product is shaping up wonderfully.

Tranquil stop by the Guad.

El Bandito

As for my grouchy old man, I was hoping to squeeze in another lesson with Sally in Fredericksburg before the craziness of summer cuts off all possibilities, but it looks like she may be out-of-state for quite some time. Her family is relocating away from the Hill Country, so I knew our time with her would be short, albeit a great blessing and hopefully the right way to shift focus with Bandit. I've gotten to spend time with some of the Waldemar polocrosse ladies on a couple of afternoons (one of our best camp horses was donated through that club, more or less) and caught the name of another woman who teaches dressage just outside of Kerrville. The price is a bit more, unsurprisingly as we were scoring an awesome deal minus the diesel cost, but the facility sounds fantastic. I haven't ridden in an indoor arena since sneaking into my university's rodeo arena to ride a handful of times. I haven't ridden with mirrors since I was about eleven. I am utterly excited.

Last week I made an attempt at doing some more "dressage homework," as Sally put it, but ended up getting distracted and going over the tiny jumps Dick and I put together for the kiddos. I have not asked Bandit to jump a thing, minus trail obstacles, since I was about fifteen and into our brief Parelli phase.. which involved alot of the at-liberty lunging over barrels. He was pretty good at that, I think mainly because he is scared of the color white (which encompasses a wide gamut of objects, let me tell you.) But after a couple of shady go-arounds and blasting our way through trot poles trying to snatch at the bit, we did some successful little bounces and, if I dare say so, I think the old man enjoyed the change-up. That said, tomorrow I plan on getting down to business and aiming for a degree of respectability at next week's lesson. It's at, like.. a fancy place. As in, I may wear a clean shirt. With a collar. Gasp.

Putting Little Sister Pax in her place. Height is no object.

A note on his bridle— having not been terribly impressed with the Dr. Cook's on a trail ride where I (stupidly) decided to go for a gallop with a friend on a similarly hot horse, and not having particularly measurable success getting Bandit on the "bit" (in the bridle?) without an actual bit.. We had a random breakthrough last weekend. I switched to Bandito after riding a super-solid but slightly slow lease horse for a group trail ride. I always ride him in the Dr. Cook's for those easy rides, as he is cucumber cool for the most part and I see advantages in switching things up with him between his various mild headgear. I don't ask for much, but usually try to get a little practice in every ride.. and from somewhere, things clicked, and I had a lovely, soft, round horse taking contact from my reins and going on about as nicely as Bandit will go. I won't be switching to the Cook's bitless for lessons, but maybe for more of our homework.

Rue

Why is The Fattest Pony In The West on this list? Well.. I have been cajoled? Convinced? By a friend or two to give polocrosse a try next fall when practices kick up again. As I see a temporary but extremely disappointing moratorium happening on my NATRC rides, thanks to an already packed schedule of weekend camp events through 2012, attending the polocrosse practices and kicking about at a new sport would keep me in a mix of horsey people and give me something new to learn. Let me assure you that at this point, I would much rather be charging along at a competitive trail ride.. But have to made allowances somewhere. Job is important and I am lucky to have it. Waldemar donated three used but quality Australian saddles to my riding program here at CFA, and I plunked down some cash to rig them out and see what I can learn. I don't think Bandit will ever be steady enough with flying balls and sticks, Indigo isn't old enough, and obese Rue needs a job. She is young, bombproof, capable of moving her fat little arse when she needs to, and plucky.. And very low to the ground, so my lanky, uncoordinated self can have a better shot at getting the darn ball off the dirt. I just.. y'know.. Look a little ridiculous on her. And she is a little ridiculous looking on top of that.

This angle does her too much justice. You can't see the hay gut.

Anyway, I don't even have a proper stick to use yet, so have mainly been conditioning her. Which turns out to be more of a commitment than I had anticipated— we trotted halfway up Mt. Vesper on the rocky hillside road, and literally had to stop. She wasn't being witchy or balky. She physically was worn out. Took it much easier the rest of the day, but I realize that she won't be in any fair condition until summer is on its way and I can alternate riding her and a couple of other horses. She has developed a rather hard mouth and opinionated way of going, but I think some consistency and a nice change to an o-ring snaffle will clean that up.

"Really, woman. I'm done now."

I leave you with this charming buttshot of The Cool Kids in the herd. Mind you, there are five round bales for our thirty horses, which averages out to six or less horses per bale if you account for those resting or watering themselves. There are twelve below, all the top dogs of the pasture, all determined to sit at the cool table in the cafeteria.

From far left to right: Peppy, Sunny, Hannah, Rue, Pax, Pumbaa, Indigo, Whiskers, Tango, Bonnie (hidden,) Marquee, and JB (also hidden.)

There are only two emotions that belong in the saddle.

One is a sense of humor, and the other is patience.

— John Lyons

If wishes were saddles, and general horse-hearted updates

First off, in reference to my prior post about Padre+, I am pleased and excit
ed to announce that my next proper, non-random-update post here will be a short and sweet interview from Padre+'s owner and rider, Patti Gruber. We have exchanged some e-mails and I have a couple more questions for her, but it's been exciting to pick her brain.

Next.. as you may have surmised from that intro paragraph, this is just a blabby little update on the flock of ponies. I've gotten a lot of riding and groundwork in since my last post, but feel a bit burned out on the arena as of last weekend and a million Girl Scout riders, so am satiated to be in San Antonio for a night. I don't feel obligated to do some work with the horses when I can be focusing on the family. (And clearly, Facebook and Blogger.)

Indigo got his mane roached for the first time two weeks ago. Which was nearly as anticlimactic as his first backing experience. He eyeballed the clippers once or twice, figured out there were treats up for grabs, and just let it happen. I confess he looks a bit like a convict, with the tattoo and the crazy eye and buzz cut and all, but he must be wildly cooler. His mane was a kind of thick I cannot describe.

At play with Rocky, who visited this weekend.

Pax has been carrying both saddles well and our lunging on the line has improved. Lunging over cavaletti was.. uninspiring, at least initially. She seemed to have no impetus whatsoever to pick her feet up and instead plowed blindly through whatever was in her path. A few rounds of set-up, walk over, a little whip, and coaxing finally produced an oversized but passable bounce and some degree of rate in her trot. I don't think she's brilliant, but she has a burning desire to be rewarded for something and will figure out (eventually) a roundabout path to that attention.

Our big pet spent a good portion of this weekend pressing herself against the fence, bright-eyed and starved for pets from the passing Scouts and troop moms. She got what she wanted and has stayed polite, if a little bit.. looming.

I feel like it's too early to be introducing a bit, but I also feel like Indigo could've benefited from earlier work carrying the bare bit, unconnected, underneath a halter. Thoughts?

Bandit had a very full week of work under saddle, and my thighs had two full days of bareback trotting. He is showing much more thorough acceptance of the bit and it takes a lot less warm-up to start seeing a little bit more frame without quite so much sweat at the start of a ride. Our 10 m circles still end up as.. err.. 10 m circles with a bite taken out of one corner when his shoulder drops. But I hope, pray, and think we will have something to show of ourselves next Tuesday at our lesson.

Desperate want.

Hopefully will purchase a Wintec Isabell on the rough anniversary of my treeless endurance purchase. I am also considering another treeless, but they are harder to come by and I don't want to spend quite so much as on my past two saddles. I know there are more than a handful of local and reasonable places I could get my hands on an Isabell Werth and the gullet system gives me confidence it could at least be passable on several horses while I'm still in the early learning stages.

Also would love to try the Fhoenix Vogue (treeless.)

Possibly most ideally.. A Sensation Formal Dressage.

Almost scared to try that one. For one.. It was a miracle I found my Sensation English Trail as cheaply and perfectly as I did, and snapped up the deal. (Thanks for your generous cash, Sweet Spouse Man.) And pure fortuitous luck that it has so perfectly fit Bandito, who, admittedly, is an incredibly easy horse to fit. Would it be worth the cash and the hunt to do it again? Maybe? Where are you lacking in going treeless for a discipline that requires more precision than perseverance?

No matter what.. We are enjoying ourselves in our questionable tack choices and dime store schooling clothes!

"If you don't have a deep passion for patience, stay away from training horses. "Hurry" is the enemy of progress." — Otto Von Monteton

Crushing on this stud.

Pretty sure I've shared this on my Facebook wall before, but I have been following Padre' and Patti's progress for a few months now through their Page and follow their developments. As someone just learning the very basics of dressage who also has a developing soft spot for the mighty BLM horse, he is probably my ideal. This video was taken after this horse had been under saddle for eighteen months. Here I am, contradicting myself from a few blog posts ago when I scorned the Road to the Colt kind of movement. Yet watching this mature horse school at such a level is a world apart from that kind of rushed start, in my opinion. I think it's beautiful, and a testament to some good training and stallion management.

Dressage has only really appealed to me for the past two or three years. I think I've come to a point in my riding where I realize there is only so much more "survival" style riding I can learn. ("Survival riding" is a description right out of the mouth of our current instructor, Sally.) In just a handful of lessons, my perception of true harmony between horse and rider has changed entirely— which, certainly, doesn't mean I'm anywhere close to "there" yet. But when we catch glimpses, I get excited.

I realize that the ideal dressage horse doesn't normally look like this, and I respect the reasons and differences. But that bay horse serves as an inspiration that the high-dollar horse is not the only athlete— my little Frito Bandito proves it to me, too, in his old age and tireless ways. Totillas is a true champion and a star, in every sense of those words. But I admit I see Padre' when I fantasize about my dream dressage horse, someday far into the future.

Maybe with a tiny splash of color, just because. ;)

Dressage lesson on Friday! I cannot wait!

Short horses

Why is it, that as a woman of substantial bone structure (what I mean is, I'm not skinny) who stands five foot ten (optimistically), I so dig short horses? I yearn to own a Halflinger or an Icelandic the way most horsewomen I know fantasize about a Friesian or a gorgeous warmblood of some high-dollar variety. I am not particularly worried about riding big horses. Yeah, there's a bit more airspace between your tail and the trail, but it isn't the gravity so much as the ground that gets you. I definitely look better on big horses.

I think I've just had good luck with most of the ponies and shorties I've ridden. I am possibly more likely to stick the dumb stuff because I'm not as worried about the aforementioned gravity— I'm sure that's a heavy piece of subconscious lurking around in my brain. I like their pluck and I like the ones that don't give a hoot about their height and will smash up a much bulkier full-sized horse without so much as a blink. Bandit is really quite tiny when you scrutinize him. Most of his papers say he's 15 hands, but I would guess 14.3 is a little more on track. He is not heavy boned but fairly stout and quite fit at the minute, so I don't think I look utterly ridiculous.

One of my favorite mounts at my old camp was named Mao Mao. Mao Mao was an Icelandic / pony / somethin-somethin'. I looked ridiculous on Mao Mao. I would have probably made an attempt to buy Mao Mao if I thought I was going to continue riding, because Mao Mao could carry any old sunofabuck on his back and was an absolute champ. Mao Mao was an asshole, frankly, as the cherry on top. And I loved him. Still do. See him in a pasture not too far away.

All that said, Pax is towering and I'm concerned I forgot that.. Whoops, I prefer short horses. I finally took some scissors and luck to her mane and said goodbye to the chunks that were still long and beautiful. Our new fence is supposed to be in before summer, and we have replaced all of our roundbale feeders— some with this great, high-density plastic kind. So hopefully once her mane grows back again, she can be Belgian Repunzel for longer and won't snag it all out.

Anyway, the seed behind this entire post is the first picture up top there. My dear friend Tiff drove up from San Antonio today to ride horses and shoot the breeze, and after a fairly successful arena adventure on little Indigo (only our second ride in there, actually) we decided to see how things went out in the open. I've ponied and packed him around some of our trails without any fireworks at all, and today was no different. He rolled with the punches and followed in a relatively well-mannered way. Occasionally he leans into the bit and tries to plow horse through a request, but he is quick to remember who the boss lady is. I have brought along some kind of whip on our last few rides (the dressage whip has worked the best) and he sometimes requires a cluck-squeeze-tap-TAP! reminder to, y'know, actually move forward. But really, he is doing great. As of April or May, he will be three. And yeah, you can watch YouTube clips of futurity horses doing ridiculously advanced things at his age.. But this is my first horse started all on my own, and he wasn't exactly imprinted at birth. So I think we're doing pretty well. It's mostly by his good graces!

In less positive news, Bandit and I are staying home this weekend. He appears to be recovering from a soft tissue injury of the minor variety. Vet took x-rays and, while he looks 100% sound, it isn't worth the cost or the risk to haul him to Oklahoma. The good news is, for being an old fart with bad breeding, Bandit's joints are in excellent shape. Will do my very best to get to the Wimberly Wayfarer in May.

Scampering, planning, training

Some of the photos from the Girl Scout Scamper popped up on the interwebs today. I am feeling rather conflicted.

1. I shouldn't try to cheeseball smile when the camera man pops up. Turns out a focused face is better than a fake, head-back-in-the-wind, squinty-eyed-smile. Sidenote.

2. Bandit looks great on the trail. Away from Scary People. And despite getting a sore on one corner of his mouth from the rubber snaffle I use (I can pretty much tell you the minute he got it on Saturday, grr) he looks much more composed and engaged in his dressage bridle than when I switched back to the Little S hack on Sunday. I think I will shuck the flash noseband. While it keeps him from lolling his tongue out the side of his face, I believe it played a part in the sore mouth— there was so much grit and sand in it, despite me trying to clean out the parts of his bridle that rubbed on his face at every stop.

3. We were definitely more relaxed, more composed, and more likely to be walking on this ride than in our previous two competitions. There were several stretches were he dropped his nose, I dropped the reins, and we just booked it at a lovely, 4.5 mph hauling-tail walk. That was perfect. There were some fun stretches after P&R checks were I hopped up in a two point and we hand galloped for a half mile or so in the easier sandy bits and let him blow off some happy steam. But yet we were terrible (TERRIBLE) at some of our obstacles. I mean, terrible as in, a horse I was not enjoying riding. And despite not being a picture-perfect horse by any means thanks mostly to my meager training skills, I always enjoy riding Bandit. After ten years, even his darker moments make sense to me and can be treated with a quiet, practiced hand. But at one point, during a water crossing from a sandy ridge down to a boggy pond and back up an embankment, I had a tiny, angry horse on my hands who swung his hip out at a judge, grabbed the bit, and very dangerously barreled down a hill. On two of the next obstacles, we executed a brilliant trotting, loping, anxious sidepass up and down another ravine, and later nearly dumped me in a shallow culvert. All things we encountered elsewhere on the trail with no problems, but put us in front of a judge and under the pressure of time and people, and things fell apart. I am more than happy to take some of the blame for tensing up in the presence of judges, but it's a mutual thing we need to work on. Bandit is still high-strung and flighty for probably 2/3s of the 40 mile rides. But that in itself is an improvement. I am going to give it the rest of this season— which for me may only be three or four rides— to see if he keeps improving. I hate being awful at something, but will keep trying to improve. Everybody in the NATRC community (that I've talked to— there are a handful or so I shy away from!) has been very supportive and helpful. So not giving up yet!

4. Boy, I was SORE on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. My core was killing me, which is cool. At least I'm using that and not my hands all the time, right?

In other news, not going to dressage tomorrow. Bandit was stiff and tenderfoot on Monday in his back left, and I'd rather not push him. If diesel weren't as expensive as it is, I would go just to watch and talk with Sally and Jadyn, but I think we'll just have to wait for April. Bummed because it has been so good for us, but I haven't spent a solid moment in the office all week. Besides some lessons, I have lots of paperwork to catch up on. Unexciting but necessary.

Not particularly news for this blog here, but there is some family illness, so Richard and I have been shuttling back and forth between San Antonio and Hunt as often as possible. I'm going back to visit again on Saturday night. Providing things don't deteriorate further, I'll be loading Bandit up for Oklahoma next Thursday to squeeze in what will probably be the last of our spring 2011 NATRC. He is going to the vet Tuesday for a powerfloat and a soundness check, so fingers crossed for us.

Indigo is doing well. Lots of groundwork. Our past few rides have been easy and quiet. Pax is fat and useless. I kid; she's sweet. Pulled her up and played with her a little this morning. More worried about getting Indigo safe enough to fall in line this summer a couple of times.

We have a new horse as of today, named "Scout." He belongs to miss Lindy over at Saddlestrings and Other Horse Things and will be joining us at camp for at least a year. I feel for her as Scout is her first "real" horse (which is how I see Bandito.. After many a lease horse in my younger years and a family cow pony) and I am honored she trusts us to take care of him! He's going to be a great addition —smart and light and willing and sweet— and is already settling in nicely. I am excited to put him to work with some of our intermediate to advanced students, depending on how things go.

March is in like a lamb, and I'm on my ponies like white on rice.

Having to Blog for work has completely zapped my ambition to blog for fun. (Note the change in Capital Letter Usage there.)

Let me just say that everyone is doing well. Got more rides in on little Indigo and lots of long lining. He is carrying a bit (with the aid of a little molasses and lots of time) and being very positive with every small step we take. We need a little tweaking on our steering— he likes to double over to pressure and loses a little balance in the process. Still, I am very pleased with each day.

Dressage lessons are progressing well. Last week was our first time incorporating the canter into the session, and I was so pleased with Bandit's listening ear as I tuned up my cues. Sally is teaching us to rely more on knowing our mount's footfalls and setting them up for success in everything we ask of them. Waiting for the right foot to ask him to pop into my hands for a nice, collected, forward canter has given me a new perspective on what he is capable of, if I can wrap my dense little tight-fisted hand around it. I realize I asked a lot of him over the past week; in one day, he started with an early morning training session, moved to a trail ride to Vesper with a student and I, grabbed some lunch and hopped in the trailer for a 1.5 hour lesson with Sally in Fredericksburg. That in addition to several other days of trail rides. I'm giving him this week off and we pack up for east Texas for the Girl Scout Scamper. 30 miles I am ready for! Just need to pack smart. :)

Pax is huge, sweet, and in it for the good stuff— attention, chin scratches, and cookies. I am blown away by the size of horse I saddled (harhar) myself with. She has been a Percheron lately, not a Belgian. All hot, snorty, and leggy. Crossing our fingers that it's a phase.



Things I Will Never Agree With:

“The reason you do not see our people wearing helmets is because we try to teach people that rather than be brave because they are wearing a a helmet to protect them, they would be better off not riding until their horse is behaving safely.” –P.P.

Uh huh. Sweet job on not rushing that Road to the Horse colt. That said, don't agree with that process whatsoever. Clinton Anderson can sit on a horse a bit more to my standard, but I think he is in the same schemey game and hated how lathered his pony looked through the process. What's the point in starting a horse in a few hours? Why? Who does that benefit? All of the backyard riders (myself included) who now reference half a day as proper training time to put a colt under saddle? How is this helping the animal? I am not posting this to hammer on my helmet fetish (bang bang bang..) but to simply point to a pretty glaring fallacy in this kind of logic. Especially paired with high-speed, high-stress types of training.


And What I Must Try To Take To Heart

"When we listen to our horses, we get an education. When we don't, we get experience." —Mark Rashid, author of Life Lessons Learned from a Ranch Horse

I need to find more ways to physically and emotionally shut up and wait for a clue from the horses I'm on.

Winter Updates

True story— I helped start a blog for my workplace (shameless plug: heyheycfa.blogspot.com) and am supposed to be writing there once a week. That kind of scheduled pressure tends to make my head dance and I've failed not only at maintaining a weekly status quo for CFA, but any sort of commentary at all on my personal blogs. I don't feel like I have a tremendous amount of stuff to say over at the more personal blog (blah blah, very happy, very busy, love Richard, blah blah, dog did cute thing) so I find myself back here, talking Barn Stuff, and feeling more at home because most of my time is luckily spent at the barn anyhow.

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.


— — —

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.

— — —

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.

Feeding breakthrough.

Something I struggle with professionally is (believe it or not) feeding our herd of 27.

Mostly, about two-thirds of them, are very easy keepers. We feed a very high-quality coastal hay and one of two pelleted grains produced in Lockhart— a complete senior or a pellet for most of the rest of the horses. I also do my best to keep a good loose mineral at ready access, in addition to cheap white salt licks.

Working for a non-profit, and being the only horse employee in the city-wide organization, means (obviously) funds are not always easy to come by. My supervisors really do put a lot of faith and funding into the horses, but it sure isn't like running a high-dollar breeding operation or fancy HJ stable. There are simply some choices that have to be made, and a few of our residents (four, specifically) are very old and have lead very full, possibly very stressful lives, and their bodies show it.

What is hard to explain to any non-equestrian is that those aging, creaky-boned "nags" are actually some of our most important assets. I cannot completely trust 25 out of 27 horses to deal with a terrified, screaming 5 year-old on a pony ride, but I can sure trust Charlie Brown or Dixie. Puzzle and Dolly are not far behind them in being bombproof and gentle while still having enough energy to tote kids around for half a day— we have other horses about the same age and with slightly better body condition scores that don't have the energy and vigor of the Old Guys. I certainly do a lot of reading about horse rescues, equine nutrition, and other lesson barns (among other things) and constantly I come up against the opinion from private horse owners that there is no excuse in the world for even the oldest horse to not be as fat and fleshy as a healthy 6 year old. I'm not sure exactly how things would change if we had unlimited funds— I know I could afford even better feeds from farther-away dealers, and alfalfa bales year-round— but even then, I am pretty damn sure these guys wouldn't suddenly revert back to their prime condition. The way a horse is kept from their earliest days, just as with people, certainly affects how they age, and I know for a fact that at least a couple of these guys have had relatively stressful lives.

So, I do as many things as I can to keep weight on them— multiple (normally two) feedings a day of fully soaked senior feed with several pounds of alfalfa and beet pulp mixed in. Supplements. Very light but directed exercise so they don't just waste away. Yearly dental care. (For what teeth some of them have left!) They are still in turn out and still share hay bales with the youngsters. I had put in for electrical fencing materials for spring of 2011, so I could put up an "Old Folks Pen" in the middle of the pasture and put them on One N' Only free-choice pelleted feed. The cost of the feed was going to be at least as high as what they eat now (which is a LOT) and probably higher, but I have witnessed the good that feed can do for skinnies and thought I'd be able to find it at a local dealer.

Couple things went wrong with that plan. The electric fencing got cut from the final budget (more important things took priority; I was the one who made the final decision and I know it was the right one) and the feed was jacked up in price over two bucks a bag within a month. I don't even know what it is now or what it would've cost in January, when I was planning to start making the switch.

So.. As the days get colder, I start putting blankets on three of the four Old Folks. (Puzzle seems to detest blankets, can't see terribly well, and is already extremely fluffy. She gets a pass.) I decided to keep them in the corral where we grain the rest of the herd for a night so I could more easily unblanket them in the morning. I gave them an extra evening soaked mash, and then it occurred to me that we have the facilities right there to separate out the horses. Yes, it would (and does) take some fanangling to feed the entire herd, and yes, there is a LOT more manure for me to scoop, but.. a week later, and I really think it's working. Normal feed, plus a little bit extra alfalfa pellet, soaked and split into three or four meals. A round bale just for them in the arena, no competing with the whippersnappers.

I swear I see more flesh on Charlie than there was a week ago. And he is a STRANGE looking horse.. Huge QH butt, big shoulders, decent neck.. and a long, very swayed back with sprung ribs and spinous processes showing a bit. But he looks deeper in the chest and showing a bit more cover over the ribs. The other three aren't as noticeable but I am sure there's a difference— I can see it, if it isn't obvious.