I have made the following resolution: I will never again mount a horse without its explicit permission, except in cases of emergency (#balto, #paulrevere).
The newly minted head honcho Bridget didn't want to leave her pasture the other day and was eager to return. She was nice about everything and let me put her saddle on. But when it came time to stand by the mounting block, she kept turning her tail away so that I couldn't reach the saddle.
She was very nice about it and stood very calmly and sweetly with her head next to my body, but every time I re-positioned her, she moved out of position again. I know many horses are trained to stand still on a loose rein for mounting. But that's not good enough for me. I want a freely-given assent from a horse who is secure in the knowledge that a refusal will carry no consequences whatsoever. I don't mind asking politely a few times in a row, but if the answer continues to be no, then that's it.
I know now that Bridget understands about mounting and that she enjoys a trail ride. So when she says no, I trust that she has a good reason. The transition from being annoying kid sister to HBIC in the pasture may take a while, and patience on my part is probably in order.
Showing posts with label hierarchy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hierarchy. Show all posts
Friday, March 18, 2016
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Dominance Revisited
I've been looking back over old posts. Seems I used to fret over the concept and practice of "dominance" a lot. We've all read about herd hierarchy, alpha horses, speaking a language horses can understand, the horse respects the one who can move its feet, and so forth. The technique of "join-up," I believe is predicated on the practice of asserting one's place as a higher-ranking herd member. On the one hand, Imke Spilker was leading me away from dominance, and on the other hand, received wisdom, and Klaus, were leading me back towards it, or towards a version of it.
There's been a good bit of water under the bridge since I first started blogging, and somehow I don't worry about dominance any more. For one thing, I met someone (now a friend) who actually spent time at Klaus's estate in Denmark, and she assured me that - no - we don't have to be Klaus. Au contraire. We have to be ourselves. For another thing, I've tried at least to take Imke's advice to allow the horse to be my teacher, and the horse doesn't seem to be super-impressed by any displays of dominance I can muster. And I'll admit it does take a bit of mustering on my part.
I'm not much of a leader, or a boss. But on the other hand I'm definitely not a doormat. And somewhere in learning that about myself, I discovered that the horse doesn't need me to be a Klaus, or a fake horse, or a herd leader, or anything at all except myself.
I believe horses understand very well that human beings are not the same thing as a horse. That we have our own way of doing things. That we cannot be herded and dominated, but at the same time, we can be trusted to suggest things that are worth listening to for their own sake. Not because the safety of the herd is at stake, not because the food supply is being safeguarded, not because the strongest is the best one to breed the mare - we act for our own reasons that have nothing to do with hierarchy. Reasons that the horse is happy to consider. We think the horse is purely pragmatic and that we must talk to it in a mechanistic language of survival, but the horse is idealistic and delights in a world beyond that of daily necessity.
I think of George and Bridget, who jockey for position in their little herd, George always vigilant that Bridget shouldn't topple him from his position as first-in-line-for-good-things. When they were turned loose together the other day in the round pen, the place where non-survival values predominate, they beat their swords into ploughshares and stood together quietly and amicably for the very first time.
Not being dominant doesn't mean being dominated. A lesson that the whole world needs to learn. I think more and more of us are catching on - it's the zeitgeist. There's a good book by Mark Rashid called Horses Never Lie: The Heart of Passive Leadership which talks about the way a non-dominant horse can win the respect and cooperation of a dominant one. And I just finished a book called It's for the Horses by Dutch Henry, a book which made me happy, as it's the first time I've read a book by a man which goes as far as I would hope in its advocacy for non-coercive human/horse relationships.
In the horse world, respect is often thought to be the flip side of dominance - the one dominated respects the one who dominates. Why would horses be so different from us? I certainly don't respect a person who tries to dominate me, but rather the person who is polite, considerate, and respectFUL. Someone like George in fact.
And for this episode's pictographic content, here is Bridget on the trail with me on board, following our little buddy on his trusty steed:
There's been a good bit of water under the bridge since I first started blogging, and somehow I don't worry about dominance any more. For one thing, I met someone (now a friend) who actually spent time at Klaus's estate in Denmark, and she assured me that - no - we don't have to be Klaus. Au contraire. We have to be ourselves. For another thing, I've tried at least to take Imke's advice to allow the horse to be my teacher, and the horse doesn't seem to be super-impressed by any displays of dominance I can muster. And I'll admit it does take a bit of mustering on my part.
I'm not much of a leader, or a boss. But on the other hand I'm definitely not a doormat. And somewhere in learning that about myself, I discovered that the horse doesn't need me to be a Klaus, or a fake horse, or a herd leader, or anything at all except myself.
I believe horses understand very well that human beings are not the same thing as a horse. That we have our own way of doing things. That we cannot be herded and dominated, but at the same time, we can be trusted to suggest things that are worth listening to for their own sake. Not because the safety of the herd is at stake, not because the food supply is being safeguarded, not because the strongest is the best one to breed the mare - we act for our own reasons that have nothing to do with hierarchy. Reasons that the horse is happy to consider. We think the horse is purely pragmatic and that we must talk to it in a mechanistic language of survival, but the horse is idealistic and delights in a world beyond that of daily necessity.
I think of George and Bridget, who jockey for position in their little herd, George always vigilant that Bridget shouldn't topple him from his position as first-in-line-for-good-things. When they were turned loose together the other day in the round pen, the place where non-survival values predominate, they beat their swords into ploughshares and stood together quietly and amicably for the very first time.
Not being dominant doesn't mean being dominated. A lesson that the whole world needs to learn. I think more and more of us are catching on - it's the zeitgeist. There's a good book by Mark Rashid called Horses Never Lie: The Heart of Passive Leadership which talks about the way a non-dominant horse can win the respect and cooperation of a dominant one. And I just finished a book called It's for the Horses by Dutch Henry, a book which made me happy, as it's the first time I've read a book by a man which goes as far as I would hope in its advocacy for non-coercive human/horse relationships.
In the horse world, respect is often thought to be the flip side of dominance - the one dominated respects the one who dominates. Why would horses be so different from us? I certainly don't respect a person who tries to dominate me, but rather the person who is polite, considerate, and respectFUL. Someone like George in fact.
And for this episode's pictographic content, here is Bridget on the trail with me on board, following our little buddy on his trusty steed:
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Rose is Ready
What is this? Today, when I moved the horses across the drive to their day-time grazing, George presented himself first, as usual. Bridget always comes next, as befits her spot in the hierarchy, but today Rose put herself forward to be taken after George and before Bridget. She stepped up, clearly expecting to go next, while Bridget held back and allowed this strange turn of events to occur. For the last day or so, Rose has been coming to the fence occasionally and sticking her head over to say hello. Most unprecedented. The chain of command has not switched, as Bridget still reigns supreme at the trough, but it seems Rose is ready for a change.
Later, this afternoon, after everyone had had a turn being brushed out in the field, and handfuls of winter coat lay strewn over the ground, I went to the barn to fetch out a saddle and bridle. Rose looked interested but returned to her grazing.
I left the tack on the gate and went off to do other things, and waited. About 20 or 30 minutes later, as I was scrubbing the water trough in the other field, I looked over and saw Rose standing near the saddle, looking over at me, as I thought she might eventually, if I gave her time.
I dropped what I was doing and went to join her. When I arrived, Rose was ready to go - no playing hard-to-get this time. I put her halter on, lead her out, and tied the leadrope to a string attached to the fence. The first time I approached Rose with the saddle, she stepped away, so I stopped and waited. On the second attempt, she was fine. She put her head down for the bitless bridle - now that she knows there's no bit, she doesn't turn away as she used to.
When she was all tacked up, she turned her head back to me two or three times, and touched me with her nose very gently and sweetly - saying - I think - ok, we're ready, up you get. But then the other horses, who had arrived from the other side of the field, got all, like, "Rose, what's up? What's going on? Why are you out there? Oh no!" Which got her a little rattled. So I had my husband stand by her head while I mounted (yes! I managed to mount from the ground!), and then we were off.
We pottered about the yard, sometimes Rose deciding where to go, sometimes me. Once, early on, Rose was startled by George carrying on back in the field, and she bounced a few times, but we soon calmed down. At one point, she decided to set off down the drive, but she thought better of it halfway down and turned back toward the house. Later, she went halfway down again and just stopped. I dismounted and let her graze for a bit, before turning her loose back into the pasture. I hope another time she decides to venture further afield.
Rose can be quite stiff and fixed, but she's sensitive too, and I think she listens to what you're saying from up on her back and takes it into account. I wanted her to relax her neck a bit and come back up off her forehand. I'm trying to minimize what I do with the reins, so I tried to just "think" into her via my seat and legs mostly, and she really did respond.
I noticed something bad today, namely that my beloved Wintec Cair panel endurance saddle doesn't fit Rose as well as I thought it did. The gullet is not as high off her back as I remembered, and in fact I shouldn't use the saddle at all, sitting as low as it does. I wonder if I just wasn't paying attention before, or if the shape of her back has changed.
A friend of mine recently posted this on Facebook. I think Rose fits the description of a classic introvert.
The advice in nos. 3, 4, 6, 7, and 12 is especially applicable to the human-Rose relationship. When I brought the saddle out, although Rose was interested right away, it took quite a while for her to stop what she was doing and ask to play. She is definitely a still-waters-run-deep kind of a gal, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of her, as and when she chooses to reveal herself.
Later, this afternoon, after everyone had had a turn being brushed out in the field, and handfuls of winter coat lay strewn over the ground, I went to the barn to fetch out a saddle and bridle. Rose looked interested but returned to her grazing.
I left the tack on the gate and went off to do other things, and waited. About 20 or 30 minutes later, as I was scrubbing the water trough in the other field, I looked over and saw Rose standing near the saddle, looking over at me, as I thought she might eventually, if I gave her time.
I dropped what I was doing and went to join her. When I arrived, Rose was ready to go - no playing hard-to-get this time. I put her halter on, lead her out, and tied the leadrope to a string attached to the fence. The first time I approached Rose with the saddle, she stepped away, so I stopped and waited. On the second attempt, she was fine. She put her head down for the bitless bridle - now that she knows there's no bit, she doesn't turn away as she used to.
When she was all tacked up, she turned her head back to me two or three times, and touched me with her nose very gently and sweetly - saying - I think - ok, we're ready, up you get. But then the other horses, who had arrived from the other side of the field, got all, like, "Rose, what's up? What's going on? Why are you out there? Oh no!" Which got her a little rattled. So I had my husband stand by her head while I mounted (yes! I managed to mount from the ground!), and then we were off.
We pottered about the yard, sometimes Rose deciding where to go, sometimes me. Once, early on, Rose was startled by George carrying on back in the field, and she bounced a few times, but we soon calmed down. At one point, she decided to set off down the drive, but she thought better of it halfway down and turned back toward the house. Later, she went halfway down again and just stopped. I dismounted and let her graze for a bit, before turning her loose back into the pasture. I hope another time she decides to venture further afield.
Rose can be quite stiff and fixed, but she's sensitive too, and I think she listens to what you're saying from up on her back and takes it into account. I wanted her to relax her neck a bit and come back up off her forehand. I'm trying to minimize what I do with the reins, so I tried to just "think" into her via my seat and legs mostly, and she really did respond.
I noticed something bad today, namely that my beloved Wintec Cair panel endurance saddle doesn't fit Rose as well as I thought it did. The gullet is not as high off her back as I remembered, and in fact I shouldn't use the saddle at all, sitting as low as it does. I wonder if I just wasn't paying attention before, or if the shape of her back has changed.
A friend of mine recently posted this on Facebook. I think Rose fits the description of a classic introvert.
The advice in nos. 3, 4, 6, 7, and 12 is especially applicable to the human-Rose relationship. When I brought the saddle out, although Rose was interested right away, it took quite a while for her to stop what she was doing and ask to play. She is definitely a still-waters-run-deep kind of a gal, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of her, as and when she chooses to reveal herself.
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