Head Carriage. Etc.

I rode a horse! It was so exciting!

Actually, it was a little too exciting, as my daughter rode him first and got dumped on the ground. We were at a client's, who has become a friend, and she invited us to stay and ride. It was the gelding's first time with this saddle, and my daughter was taken aback by him starting off at a fast trot in the round pen, and she bumped on his back, and Mr. Allegedly Perfect crowhopped, and onto the ground went daughter. Never mind. She got back up, and he settled a bit, and then it was my turn.

He's a very nice, sweet horse actually. His new owner, my client, has only ridden him Western, but she said he was supposed to be trained to Level 2 dressage. What I found was that he was trained to have a false head carriage - chin tucked under, and zero connection over the to the rider's hands or to his own back. So that's what I worked on with him, and I think he started to let go of his behind-the-vertical mode of going and to connect a little with the rest of his body.

And he's not my horse and not my problem! So I didn't have to self-examine and question myself and wonder if it was ethical to be riding him in the first place or using a bit or any of those things. And honestly I enjoyed myself. Doesn't mean my equivocation with my own horses has got up and gone, but, hey, I'll take a bit of fun when I can find it!

Now on to the Etc. part of this post, which is the more interesting part, involving another client who is an Animal Communicator. Most of what she does involves finding lost animals, but she does help humans communicate with their animals about other matters also.

For example, she told me of a recent situation she'd helped with - the owner of a miniature horse was moving out of the country and had to find a new home for the horse. Two or three different potential new homes were on the table, and my client talked to the mini to find out which new owners he preferred. He had a definite preference and was allowed to make the choice himself - so the horse was happy, and the old owner was relieved to know that the horse would be content in his new situation.

Sometimes she'll be asked to find out what is bothering a horse. She said that horses are often reticent to complain about their owners (e.g. hard hands), as they don't want to hurt their feelings. So she has to promise to be tactful in communicating. I find this immensely reassuring.

I used to think this stuff was crazy. Now I don't. That is all.

p.s. Daughter may have cracked rib.

All Aboard

Today Chloe pretty much told me to climb on her back. She was pottering about, loose on the driveway, and I walked over to see if she wanted to go back in the pasture yet. She came up to me but didn't put me into scratching position as she often does. Scratching position is on her right side, near her neck. She put me on her left side, half-way between front and hind legs, and she waited. So I flung myself into potato sack position onto her back, and carrying her precariously loaded burden, she walked over to the gate.

At the gate, after I slid off, Chloe decided she didn't want to go back into the field after all. Once more she put me into what I can only assume is "mounting position." So this time I thought, "What the heck," and I scrambled onto her back until I was sitting astride. She stood immobile while this was going on and continued standing still after I was up there. Which is just as well, because it is very easy to fall off Chloe. I sat there for a while scratching her neck, while she stood relaxing, ears drooping sleepily.

After a little while, I dismounted. But she turned and looked at me and seemed to want me to get back up. So I did, in a manner as inelegant and unathletic as before. And once more she stood stock still during and after the maneuver. We stood/sat quietly for a while, Chloe every now and then turning as if to say, "Hey, those dangling legs of yours could be good for scratching my ribs."

When I slid off, Chloe seemed a little disappointed. She went back into the field when I opened the gate but then made as if to come out again right away.

I should make it clear that she wasn't wearing a halter or rope or anything while this was going on. How far we have come. What a lovely, secure feeling to know that your horse is standing still while you climb on, not because of your skill or agility or training, but in spite of your lack thereof - standing still because it's her decision. This is the little horse who always signaled loud and clear that she wanted no part of the foolishness of riding. It's not that she particularly minded carrying someone on her back; her disapproval was of the rider (or anyone else for that matter) telling her what to do. Now that I've pretty much given up that bad habit, she's willing to entertain the idea of carrying me.

We'll see what happens if and when Chloe decides to take a step with me on board. It'll be very good balance practice, that's for sure.

Later this afternoon, I took Bridget out for a graze and a wander. I found this birds' nest lying on the ground and told Bridget it looked like her mane had come in very handy.

P.S.  I am not in the habit of making 12:2 hh ponies carrying great gallumphing adults like myself - Chloe was ridden by lighter people back in the day. However, if she tells me to get up, I hear and obey.

Call Me Crazy

Oh, and you will. But as this blog is as much about what goes in my head as in the pasture, I am going to attempt to set down the latest random meanderings of my mind.

Two roads lead to where I'm going here. One is a recent post by Sandra about a bad fall she experienced, and a link she posted to another blog, where there is a very nice list of Things To Do To Not Fall Off. My attention was particularly caught by the advice to sit in and not on the horse.

The other road is less clear. It started with me searching for the word "horse" in the New Testament (something which is very easy to nowadays thanks to sites like this one. Why was I searching for the word "horse" in the New Testament? Can't remember. But this passage caught my eye:

 Now I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes were like a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns. He had a name written that no one knew except Himself. He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God. And the armies in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed Him on white horses. (Revelation 19:11-14)

I was especially struck by this passage, as a long time ago I wrote a sort of apocalyptic poem involving a white horse, and it occurred to me again that, you know, when the last trumpet sounds and all that, I'd like to be riding with the armies of heaven on a white horse.

So, naturally I wondered if I'd be good at staying on my white horse, while Beasts and Flames of Fire and Dripping Blood and Fiends and Angels are charging about all over the place. I mean, I expect my white horse would be really stalwart and not at all spooky, but there might have to be some pretty snappy maneuvering, and I really hope I would be sitting in and not on my steed.

It's never to soon to start practicing. So I have been imagining myself sitting astride my noble charger (actually, please sign me up for a white Highland pony, I think it would be much safer) and checking with myself to make sure I have an independent seat and hands and that I am in-not-on.

There are all kinds of situations where seat and hands can get stuck together - especially driving and of course .... using the computer. Moreover, every moment in life is a temptation to be on-not-in. I won't go into all the details of lengthening-and-widening-the-back, dropping-the-seatbones, releasing-down-the-back-of-the-legs, freeing-the-neck, dropping-the-elbows - suffice it to say there's enough material to keep me occupied until the last trumpet does in fact sound. Plus also it might come in handy for riding chestnut mares as well.

I could've thought of doing this without the extra incentive of the armies of heaven, but that's what it took to get me to really focus. For the record, I'm actually plugging the scenario outlined in one of my recommended books - The Splendor of Creation, which has a rather different spin on the End Times - orthodox, of course, but distinctly less alarming.  Hopefully there'll be white horses no matter what.