Rose Finds a Friend

I had the animal communicator talk to my horses! Yes I did!

This is something I've been fence-sitting about for years - curious, sceptical, drawn to it, but doubtful. So finally I had to try it.

One of things I learned (more in another post) - well, not learned, because honestly I knew this already - was that Rose is kind of sad and has a feeling that some part of her is missing. We speculated what this might be, but I've always felt that she wanted her own person, so I informed my husband that there was a Terry-shaped hole in Rose's heart and he was going to have to start to live up to his obligations.

He's only been out twice to the barn since then, but it's a start!

I got them into the round pen - Terry groomed her, and she started following him about. He's never been that patient about the horses, but I guess my years of droning on have made an impression or something, and when it was time to put her bridle on (which takes a lot of asking and waiting and processing for Rose), he said, "Well, we don't have to ride today," which made me proud of him, and was exactly the right approach for our shy Rose.

Despite the mounting block, it was rather a struggle for him to get into the saddle. He was slightly stranded for a few moments in an awkward and vulnerable position with one leg half over the saddle. During all this time, I swear have never experienced a horse standing as still as Rose. It felt like every cell in her body was dormant. What a comforting feeling.

After he was in the saddle, you could tell Rose was thinking, "Whoa, dude's kind of heavy!" She very carefully started to take some steps. I told her that she could walk around and when she was ready to be done, she should go to the center of the round pen and stop. After several minutes of walking around, she went to the center and touched the mounting block with her nose. Once again she stood as still as a rock while Terry scrambled his way down to terra firma.

The following week we just took Rose and Bridget for a walk. Then I was off on my trimming trip for 3 weeks. We're planning to both go out on Sunday again - it'll be interesting to see if the dynamics are different now with the pasture re-shuffle.

More Riding

I love going for a ride. I really do. Of course hanging out with the horses on the ground is fun and satisfying too. But I do love riding, and there it is.

I wasn't sure I'd be able to do much riding anymore. It's not always obvious whether the horse is 100% behind the project or if you're projecting your own wishes onto the situation. Several years ago I decided that if it's not what the horse would freely choose, then it wasn't worth insisting on. Because what's the point otherwise? I want a friend who enjoys our activities together and not a servant who conforms to my wishes.

So how do you KNOW whether the horse is really on board?

Well, how about if you put the horse into the round pen and he/she goes over to where the saddle is hanging on the rail and tries to pick it up?

Works for me.

Bridget has been doing very well on the trail, and I decided that the time had come to see if she and George would enjoy riding out together. So the plan was for Claire-the-barn-manager and I to give it a try. 

As often is the case, either the two of them had read my mind or they were the ones whose idea it was all along - because when Claire and I arrive at the pasture, George and Bridget come marching over side by side (they who never walk together), while Rose stays away. We lead them up to the barn and turn them loose together in the round pen. As they are often very rude to each other (and George can be extremely threatening to Bridget), my plan was, if necessary, to enforce good mutual manners in the round pen by means of the lunge whip. But they both seem to have decided that the usual laws of nature do not apply inside the round pen. They converse together amicably, and even stand close to each other without twitching, kicking, squealing, lunging, or otherwise tweaking out.  I've never seen them act like this before. Amazing. 

Then they both make beelines for their saddles.

Still at liberty, they're tacked up, each free to walk away as often as they like in the middle of the process. (Occupational hazard = occasionally saddle may fall on ground; but that doesn't happen today.) I've finally (FINALLY) gotten into my head that George does not wish to be "trained" nor is it necessary to train him. It's ok to ask, and it's ok to ask more than once, as long as each time you accept "No" for an answer. If he's free to leave in the middle of being saddled, he stays benign throughout - no ear pinning, no stink eye, no grinding of teeth. Just a happy George. Even fastening the second side of the girth elicits no negative reaction or emotion. 

Once the saddle's in place, I feel a surge of energy from him. Happy energy. So I ask if he'd like to go around the pen - yes, he would. I sense a canter coming on, so I ask if he'd like to run. He doesn't need to be asked twice, and off he goes, cantering and bucking around the circle. It's a joyful movement - playful and exuberant - and his face is soft. Claire saw him bucking in the field earlier today. I've never seen him buck in the round pen before, and it's very rare for him to buck in the pasture. I point this out to show the confluence of human decision and horse mood/response. You never know which causes which, or if it's one thing.

Clare mounts Bridget, and I climb up on George in the way which currently works for us, i.e. I place the mounting block beside him and step up, he walks off, I reposition the block and step up again, he walks off, etc. - maybe five or six times. No attempt to do anything different - just reposition, try again - no recriminations, no clever techniques, just keep asking politely. He remains sweet and calm, and then magically on the next attempt, he stays put, and up I get.

A happy trail ride ensues. What bliss. 

Further Adventures with Bridget

How do you get a Bridget to go forward?

Answer #1:  If the Bridget is not used to a rider and legs, even a little amount of pressure will cause a Bridget to go, "Yikes! What was that?!" and walk forward.

Answer #2:  When the Bridget is used to the rider and legs, pressure will cause the Bridget to turn her head all the way around to inspect the leg closely, asking, "What is that annoying thing you're doing with your foot?"

Answer #3:  After you've spent several intervening days pondering the issues posed by Answer #2 and how you're going to induce the Bridget to proceed forward without resorting to Old Fashioned Means, the said Bridget will have solved the issue in her own little head and will walk forward on your first or second request.

Why does a Bridget approve of being ridden?

Because when the Bridget is being lead around, the human on the end of the rope is very slow and boring.

Because if a Bridget is turned loose into the wide world, it's TOO SCARY to go across the farm to the far side all by herself and See What's There.

Because when the rider is up, Bridget can go ANYWHERE SHE WANTS, and her buddy has no option but to accompany her at a reasonable pace and without being slow and boring.

When does Bridget's rider get to lay down the law?

Sometimes Bridget's rider says, "No More Eating!" Bridget will toss her head and maybe say a bad word, but then she's like, "Oh ok, whatever."

Sometimes Bridget's rider says, "Slowly please!" Or, sometimes, "Stop!" Bridget will accommodate such requests without demur.

Sometimes Bridget's rider will say, "Let's make a circle here, just for - y'know - like, practice." Bridget will get into the spirit of this somewhat willingly-ish.

Sometimes Bridget's rider dismounts, takes the saddle off, gives Bridget a shower and then tries to take her back to her pasture. Bridget usually says, "No, no, no, no, no, don't want to." So it might take a loooooong time to get her back there.

Why does a Bridget walk away when you appear with the halter?

Aha! We have a rather different answer to that now. Now what she's up to is getting away from George before she's confined at the end of a leadrope and at his mercy. (Mea culpa? Should I make Bridget feel safer?)

How do you know this?

Because, while I suspected this for some time, it was confirmed the other day when I appeared with the halter and she walked away from me across the field toward the other gate. When I caught up with her, she stopped. Then, just to check, I left her and walked the rest of the way toward the gate. She followed me and then was totally fine with me putting the halter on. And today, when I appeared ditto, she did the same thing and was thoroughly put out when I took George out instead of her.

Why does Bridget have a gash under her arm?

Because that George lunged at her, and she wheeled around to get away, and there was a fence in the way, and she reared up and came down with one leg in the fence. She is almost all healed.

Here is a fun item Bridget found one day while exploring with a rider.
(Sorry, I don't  think the video works - but you get the picture.)

Staying Close

Well, it finally happened - I rode Bridget! Rising seven, and me still on the ground; something had to change. I'd been putting off taking that last step of swinging my leg over her back because of wimpiness really. Unlike a great many horse people, I am risk-averse. My daughters have become too busy and important to help with the task of spotting Mum while she does kooky and age-inappropriate things with horses. However, the opportunity to get something going presented itself along with our recent move to Texas, where the horses are boarding again. The barn manager is a professional trainer and instructor, and I decided to ask her to help me with the transition from on-the-ground to on-board. She and Bridget like each other, so I put aside my misgivings about working with an unspilkered (Communicative Horses) trainer and decided that if I wasn't willing to enlist someone's help to Move On, I would remain forever on the ground.

So I ordered a test ride saddle, stuck in the extra-wide tree, and pretty much up I got. It all went very smoothly. The following week, the test saddle having been returned and the new one not having arrived yet, we did some ground work, involving free lunging and trying different bridles. 

And then this week for the first time in her life, Bridget was not very keen on having her halter put on. She did let me, but walked away twice before doing so. Not a good sign.

So needs must break it to our trainer that we're going to have to do things differently. Quite right, of course. But I felt I had to try and let someone do things in a more conventional way to see the result. Maybe Bridget would have been fine with it. It was good to find out for sure. My intention was to trust someone who is trustworthy and be willing to relinquish, to some extent, my own control over the situation. But the proof is in the pudding, and the pudding didn't want her halter on. There's no way to let someone into this gently - you have to just say it: the horse gets to say no, and if she really doesn't freely choose to do this, then what's the point?

After I said my crazy things, we spent an hour in the round pen - me, the trainer, a three-year-old boy, and Bridget, who was at liberty. We (mostly me and Bridget) worked on shoulder yielding and backing and turns on the haunches and forehand, and standing by the mounting block, and putting reins over her head. She was free to walk away, but she kept coming back for more. remaining placid and content throughout. Toward the end of the time, she came and stood by the mounting block and kept putting her foot on it. That's Bridget - she wants the human role in the exercise. She would like to be the one climbing on the mounting block - it looks like fun. Anyway, she was keen to be in the centre of things, making suggestions.

Riding is such an intimate activity. Why is it that we start by keeping the horse at a distance? We send them away from us to the rail and don't allow them to come close. We use commands and instructions which operate like a remote control device - how often has one read in horse classifieds the term "push-button"? As we sit on the horse, all the distance of the lunge line is present, holding us apart still, and the remoteness of our control remains even though we're in close contact with their bodies.

Horses love intimacy. Not the sentimental kind involving kisses forced upon them. But an intimacy where you share your thoughts and listen for theirs. Intimacy can remain over a distance or be lost in close proximity.

I've sort of done our trainer out of a job; although her expertise is still very reassuring, it's no longer the principal driving force behind what we're doing. However, I'm still glad to have someone around for moral support (I've been doing this on my own for so long), and it'll make me feel safer when I'm riding. Also Bridget loves the company. Two people to hang out with, and no George to chase her away and take them for himself. 

The saddle will arrive soon. I'll keep you posted.

George's Entourage

George and Rose's friendship took six months from first meeting to the point where they could be together in the same space without Rose feeling fearful or George feeling the need to bite her. Then they went through a short phase when George broke the ice by acting all studdish and mounting her. And gradually from there they developed the beautiful relationship they have now, where George has nominated Rose as his mom, but he's still in charge. Rose's sweetness has been a balm to him, I think, and her presence has given him a safe place to relax and unwind. He has grown generous toward her and will stand by while she takes treats.

Rose is a nice napping partner.

George and Bridget's relationship, on the other hand, remained stormy and tense for much longer. For four years they couldn't occupy the same space. There was a certain curiosity between them, however, which they would sometimes try to satisfy by talking to each other over a fence, or even over a person. At home in PA, there are two adjoining fields with an open gate between, and I've observed them use that set-up to go one on each side of a fence in order to squeal at each other. 

Finally, this year there has been a rapprochement. They can stand fairly close together, and occasionally they'll touch noses or one will nose the other's flank without ensuing drama. I feel that their long journey to Texas together has helped their relationship.

As for Chloe - she has absolutely avoided George; no way was she ever going to allow herself to get anywhere near that dreadful ogre. And his behavior pretty much justified her fears, as if Chloe got in his vicinity, he'd usually offer to bite her. Even with a barrier between, the George-bites/Chloe-flees scenario remained.

Until.

Yesterday, I prevailed on Chloe to exit the field with me. She was very engaged in the process of getting through the gate and did not change her mind or want to quit when we had to run the George gauntlet. My strategy was basically to keep nicely reminding George that he was supposed to let us get out and to keep plying him with treats (not as rewards, but as morale boosters). He was in a high state of tension and clearly fighting with himself, but Chloe (a more acute George observer than I) did not falter. We dodged and sidestepped, and I kept swiveling to keep George in my sights, and we made it through the gate with no bites and no unauthorized escapees. 

Chloe then spent some time grazing, and (on account of she's a little angel) she let me clamber onto her back and sit there. When it was time to take her back, George stuck his head over the gate to greet us, and - lo and behold - he and Chloe touched noses FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. Only for a micro-second to be sure, but they did it again, just to be sure I didn't think I'd imagined it. And then George nicely let us back into the field.

This photo makes it look like Chloe is huge and I am tiny,
whereas in fact, as everyone knows, the opposite is true.

A Pleasant Jaunt

On Friday evening, my husband surprised me by saying, "Let's go riding this weekend." He never says that.  So, hooray!

On Saturday, we saddled up Rose and George and off we went, me on George, my husband on Rose, and our daughter tagging along on foot to make sure my husband was safe, him not being a confident or experienced rider and all.

George lead the way, very keen. Rose came along behind, a little anxious. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon, warm - but fall definitely in the air. When we came to a crossroads, George picked the farm lane, and off we went towards the creek at the bottom of the hill. George startled when he saw the light reflecting off the creek. "What is that?!"

While George was pondering this strange sight, Rose seemed like she was getting a bit stressed out at being so far from home, so we decided to head back. I took my turn monitoring Rose on foot, and my daughter mounted up on George. I walked beside Rose on the homeward road, and she relaxed, lengthened, and strode out, taking over the lead from George.

When we reached the end of our drive, she did what she has done before - she declined to go home and instead wanted to continue on the ride. We happily agreed with her suggestion and continued on a  circuit of the fields. At one point, George looked like he might take the lead again, and Rose said, "Not likely!" and pushed ahead in front of him.  She does like to shake off that subservient position and be her own woman sometimes.

My husband proclaimed the Cashel Soft Saddle "hands down the most comfortable saddle" he has ever sat on. I wasn't sure that his stirrups were long enough (or even), but he was quite happy - so that's a success, as he is quite picky about how he feels up there, and who could blame him, as he's not used to it.

After the ride, I asked my husband to let Rose graze on the lawn with him for a while to Encourage Bonding, plus Rose really likes that.

Everyone had a nice time.

Another Ride with Rose

The other day I saddled up Rose again. We repeated the mounting exercise from last time, and this time things moved along more quickly to the point where I could hop up onto her back.

 I was trying out the smaller Cashel Soft Saddle. Definitely the larger one is going to work better. With both saddles, as it would be with bareback, it's a challenge for me to maintain a good position/posture - but a beneficial challenge, I hope? I do need to work on my seat.

Rose was in heat, so she kept wanting to go over to the fence to touch noses with George and squeal a little. I let her.  And in between we pottered about, but her mind was wandering.

Finally she came to a dead halt. I could not prevail upon her to move at all. As I have foresworn using a stick or other such persuasions, there we stood. Finally I dismounted, thinking that maybe she would like to be lead back to the pasture. No. She still wouldn't move.

So we stood peaceably for a while. Every few moments, Rose touched her nose ever so gently to my hand.

George and Bridget are always chivvying Rose about. "Go away." "Move." "Come along now." "Git."  I honestly think she gets fed up with it and likes coming out with me because she knows I won't make her move when she doesn't want to. She can pick a spot she likes and stay there, or she can head off towards a destination of her choosing.

Part of me says, "Well, this behavior is not conducive to making her a nice mount for my husband or anyone else to go for a pleasant trail ride in the countryside. And isn't that my goal?"

On the other hand, Rose has taken people for pleasant rides - on one occasion, it was all her idea in fact. And while it would be nice for my husband to reliably be taken for a nice hack, he does do other things for fun in his life, as well as owning a pretty serviceable pair of legs of his own. While Rose never has the opportunity to be Queen of the Realm except when I take her out.

And she is always perfectly sweet and polite about wanting her own way. Very different from a horse imposing its will on another horse - I think she recognizes that she can claim self-determination as a gift, as it were.

As this is the path upon which I've placed my feet, I feel I must follow it where it leads.

More Riding

Inspired by my ride the other day, and also by my Animal Communicator client's claim that horses are worried about hurting their humans' feelings, I resolved that we should do more riding around here.

Cos I reallyreally like riding, and maybe they wouldn't mind indulging me.

Plus I have a Cashel Soft Saddle on loan to try, and I needed to give it a whirl.

Here's the thing - there's this fear associated with mounting up. Fear and a feeling of seizing control from the horse - of creating a disconnect between human and horse.

So that's what I wanted to work on.

I got Rose out and put the Cashel saddle on her. It has a Western cinch, which I'm not used to, but I figured it out; plus the stirrup leathers are set on low, so the stirrups are long, even on the shortest hole. But I got it sort of sorted out, and when I brought out the bridle to put on, she turned her head all the way around towards me, because she knows it's the bitless now - back when she was expecting a bitted bridle, she used to turn away.

Next, we headed over to the kitchen steps for the purposes of mounting.

I just wanted everything to be calm, and relaxed, and unforced. So I lead Rose into position, gave her a treat, and when she broke position, I peacefully lead her around in a circle back to the same spot. Once she started holding that position, I stepped up onto the bottom step and gave her another treat. When she moved off, I just lead her around again and re-positioned, keeping the reins loose.

After a few times she stayed put, so I advanced to suggesting that I put my foot into the stirrup, again keeping the reins loose. When she moved away, we just quietly walked around and back into position.

After another couple of times, she stood still and let me mount. Of course the treeless saddle slipped, and I had to tighten the cinch. But on the next attempt, everything worked fine, and there I was sitting on top of Rose with no sense of having had to hold her still or take control.

Rose is a horse who likes to take her time and say no at first. Allowing her to do that gives her confidence. I liked the feeling of being able to mount because she agreed to let me - not because I trained her to let me, but because I asked and she said yes.

We pottered around the yard a bit, sometimes Rose choosing where to go, sometimes me. I think she'd've opted to go down towards the road, but the dogs were out, and I didn't want them to follow. Rose is a very listening horse. The bitless bridle we're working with is a bit of a blunt instrument, but nonetheless I think we made a little progress in the short time I was riding.

The soft saddle was ok - I need to try it with shorter stirrups. I think it'll be a good addition to Rose's saddle wardrobe, but I expect that it won't work for Bridget as I was hoping, as because she is so very cylindrical, it'll probably just slip at the slightest provocation.

Then it was George's turn. It seems that being tied to a fence and having a saddle put on and a person climb aboard is less of an imposition than being asked to walk backwards at liberty for no particular reason. He totally didn't make his mean face or get grumpy even when I tightened the girth. We approached mounting the same way as with Rose. He didn't need as many re-positionings and let me climb up pretty quickly.

As with Rose, we just had a short ride pottering about the yard. I think George will be a good riding teacher, because as soon as my hands start to interfere at all, he pulls the reins out of my grip. But if I'm very careful, he stays connected and listening.

I'm looking forward to my next ride!

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.

The Human's Training Progresses

I don't know what it is, but despite all the Spilkeration that has gone on in my life, I still have a tendency to want to turn the horses into minions. Not to beat myself up about this, but there it is. I'm working on it.

One form this hegemony takes is the desire to Make George Do Things. One thing I like to ask him to do is to move his shoulder away. I ask him to do this because he hates it, and for some reason I think I should be able to randomly make him do things he doesn't want to, just because he's a horse and I'm a human. Whenever I suggest he move his shoulder away (unless, of course, there's a good reason for it, in which case he is impeccably courteous), he gives me his best "You are such a bitch" look.

Yesterday evening, we were out having a pleasant time together - George getting his tummy scratched, me dancing about to keep my be-sandaled feet from being trampled - when I decided we would practice doing a teeny bit of shoulder moving. Only this time I was determined to be reeeaally nice about it, and make it completely optional, and not, well, not be such a bitch about it.

So I stood by his shoulder and pointed, not at his shoulder, but in the direction toward which I was asking his shoulder to move, holding my arm in front of his chest. Pretty soon he did move in the desired manner, with the result that his butt came round to a good scratching position. That works.

Later, I tried again. Before granting me my whim, George first had to focus on some other agenda items. First we had to stare into the distance at some deer, and then we had to scratch his chest. And also he first had to make me move away from him. He achieved this by the not-so-subtle means of nudging me over with his head. Fair enough. And then finally he did move away in the desired manner, again bringing his quarters back to scratching position.

But only for a moment. He disengaged from scratching, carefully backed up to re-position me by his shoulder, said, "Allow me to demonstrate once more," and again moved his shoulder away from me. Then back to scratching.

So he schooled me in patience, reciprocity, and shoulder moving, without ever once telling me I was a bitch.

This morning, as I returned from yoga, Chloe was waiting for me and marched up to the fence while I was parking the car. Clearly she was a pony on a mission, and as I assumed it involved Improved Grazing Opportunities, I opened the two gates which face each other on either side of the drive and ushered George, Bridget, and Rose out from their current pasture over into the barn pasture. Chloe did not follow - the normal rules do not apply to her - so I shut the others in and let her stay out.

She nibbled a little clover but then walked purposefully over to me. It's been quite a while since she's let me climb on her back, but today I was getting the feeling that maybe it would ok. So I got into - well, it's not mounting position cos that would be giving me too much credit - let's call it scrambling-aboard position. Chloe stood still while I plonked myself like a sack of meal over her back. Feeling that it might be nice if there were less flailing and more dignity involved in the next step of actually getting one leg over Chloe's back, I went in and fetched out the kitchen step stool to aid in the process. But when I put it next to Chloe and stood on it, she walked forward. Only a couple of steps though. She walked forward, stopped, and waited. Ok, no step stool.

I got back into scrambling-aboard position, and Chloe stood, planting her feet, giving that kind of solid, reliable feeling that seems to say, "That's ok, take all the time you need. I know you're a complete klutz; I'll just stand here til you're up." Once I was up, Chloe turned her head to inspect my leg, looking at it  rather indulgently. Then she set off. She's very careful not to unseat me, and at first she stops every step or two, as she can feel my wobbliness. (Tall person on short pony makes for an unstable situation.) She walked over to the gate where the other horses were and stopped. I got off and asked her if she wanted to go in, but the other horses were crowding the gate, and she didn't want to.

For a little while, I pottered about doing other things. Chloe wandered down the drive a little, and when I went to see what she was up to, she seemed to invite me on board once more. So I scrambled on. Chloe turned to inspect my leg again and then carefully walked up to the gate. This time the other horses were out of the way, so when I got off and opened the gate for Chloe, she went right in.

I don't know what Chloe's plan was, or even if it was a plan. But it sure seemed like one.

Obedience

Chloe has decided - for now at least - that I'm not allowed to sit on her back.

If I try to climb aboard, she politely but firmly slides away and swings her tail around to face me. Not threateningly or as if to kick, but to definitively put me into a non-mounting position.

It's such a different "no" from the one she used in the days when I insisted that she be trained and ridden. Back then she was irritable and wanted us to go away and leave her alone. Now her refusal is gracious; while denying my request, she remains kind and sociable.

She is training me well.

I was sad when she wouldn't give me a piggy-back ride. But then I remembered that Chloe is generous and gives good things. I never anticipated she would want to give me a ride - yet she did. Why should I be grumpy that she has withdrawn the privilege? Why not assume she has something different, or better, in store for me? Why not trust her?

And it seems to me that this is what obedience is - to be like a child, trusting that while one gift may be withheld, other gifts will be forthcoming, and to wait in confident anticipation for the future to divulge what those gifts may be.

Chloga

I have recently adopted a new pursuit - yoga. The main snag with this is that our local yoga class meets at 6 a.m. So we'll see.

However, I do have Chloe to help me as well. When I sit on her back, I find myself constantly tipping forward. It is extremely hard to tilt my pelvis in such a way as to allow my sitting bones to sink securely onto Chloe, and at the same time to allow my legs to rotate outwards so that I'm not pinching myself up off her back. I would have these same difficulties sitting on a regular-sized horse, but on Chloe they're magnified on account of her narrowness.

If I can't sit safely on Chloe, then any feeling I've ever experienced of having a good seat on a larger horse is probably an illusion. I flatter myself I'm getting a teeny, tiny bit better at sitting on Chloe, who is extremely patient with my wiggling and jiggling.

My current rule is that I can't get on Chloe unless she actually tells me to. I can't ask her and then get up if she says yes; I have to wait until she suggests it of her own accord. Of course, if hanging around expectantly, like a little kid waiting for its turn on the swings, counts as asking, then I guess I'm a hypocrite.

Today we had a very nice time together on the lawn, with some scratching, some "riding," and some quiet companionship. I think I need a few more hours of sitting Chloga, with a few short walking intervals - and then maybe I'll be ready for some trotting Chloga, if she ever feels like it of course. Perhaps then I might be ready to ride a big horse.



p.s. Today, I was out and my husband wanted to put Chloe back in the pasture so he could leave too. Chloe was near the gate, and he opened it. She didn't react at first and just stood, waiting. He waited too, and after a little while she walked in. He told me that if we hadn't had the conversations we've had lately, he'd've probably tried to shoo her in. Instead he waited and allowed her to wait, and it worked out.

Training June

Chloe spent some time out on the lawn this evening, grazing in the gathering dusk - with me sitting on her back.

Chloe has raised the bar a little. She expects me to be quicker climbing onto her back. Today, she came over to collect me, waited while I tried to get up, stopped briefly when I failed, and then walked off without me.

Later, I managed to mount up, and we wandered about the yard eating grass. When it finally became quite dark, I hopped off Chloe and shooed her towards the pasture gate. She declined and instead went through an open gate into the empty field. She stood waiting.

When I came over to her, she pawed at me and shoved me with her head. I moved into mounting position and was waiting for her to signal with her head that I should get up. But then I realized that I was standing in mounting position in obedience to her pawing and shoving, and that there was no point in waiting for further permission. She was obviously standing there waiting for me to get up; so I did.

With me back on board, she set off again to graze the lawn. I sat on her back for a while longer before finally dismounting. As Chloe refused to take the hint and head for the gate, I fetched the halter and leadrope and managed to convince her to rejoin the others in the pasture.

I wanted to sit on her this evening until she told me to get off. I don't know what she might say to get me off, but I expect it would be quite clear. At one point, she knocked my leg with her head, but it was a clumsy bump, and I think she was trying to get rid of a fly. In any case, she didn't repeat it. One of these days I'll have to set aside a long period of time and stay on as long as she wants. Maybe I'll bring a book.

Lead, Kindly Chloe

                                               I loved to choose and see my path;
                                               But now lead Thou me on.
                                                                    John Henry Newman

                                               He may have his little thoughts.
                                                                    Celia, Middlemarch, Chapter 50


There is a tradition in Judaism which teaches that when Moshiach comes, the established order will be reversed. Instead of man being the head of woman, woman will be the head of man.

It is taught in Chassidic and Kabbalistic literature that the polarities of masculine and feminine will eventually invert. There will come a time, blessed and welcomed by all, when the feminine will have greater access to transcendent consciousness, and when she will bestow and man will receive from her.¹                                                                      

In a world thus transformed, the body will no longer be subject to the head, but rather the body will become a conduit of light for the head. Material creation, presently distanced from the spiritual realm and dependent on receiving light indirectly, trickling down through more elevated levels, becomes instead directly connected to and inhabited by the source of light itself.

So Moshiach, who represents the ultimate fulfillment of Torah, himself rides the donkey of the material. For he heralds a world in which the material is no longer the lower or secondary element, but an utterly refined resource, no less central and significant a force for good than the most spiritual creation.²

And so it is with Chloe.

She stands by the fence, waiting to be let out. When she is released, her first order of business - before setting off to graze - is to load me up onto her back. Why? I don't know. Perhaps she's training me.

The other day, we had a party at our house, and two of the guests - little girls aged 6 and 8 - wanted pony rides. Chloe was reasonably gracious about allowing the little girls to sit on her back, but she made it quite clear that she was not going to cooperate with any such nonsense as being lead around in the direction of someone else's choosing. She wasn't cross, or mean, or anxious about it. She just said no. She always used to start by saying no back in the days when I would have insisted she obey, only in those days she would have been anxious and cranky. Nowadays when she says no, she just looks at me quite kindly as she refuses. And I say, "Ok, you're the boss." Well, sometimes first I say, "Oh, please, pretty please, couldn't you please, just this once ..." And then I give up.

The next day, the effrontery of my behavior towards her with the little girls apparently had not left too bad a taste in her mouth, because she put me on her back as usual. If I'm slow in getting up and she starts moving with me only half-way into position, she stops, waits, and starts again once I'm properly up.

I realize I just absolutely have to totally give up trying to make Chloe behave anything like a "normal" pony. When a little girl asks for a pony ride, I'll tell her that George (who has a mild, avuncular interest in being helpful with children and beginners) will oblige. But if the little girl insists on Chloe, I'll tell her she's welcome to ask Chloe for a piggyback ride, but that Chloe only goes where Chloe wants, and that's the way it should be.

I love letting Chloe be in charge. When I was little, my dreams of being on a horse did not consist of riding dressage exercises, or sailing over a round of jumps, or riding in the circus - I dreamed of being taken on the back of a magic horse to places I never knew about before.

Chloe waits by the fence.

1. Sarah Schneider, "Voice of the Bride," Moshiach101.com 
2.  "Moshiach's Donkey," Moshiach 101.com

Further Adventures with Chloe

After my little ride earlier today, I was out with Chloe again, and she seemed to express a desire for me to climb aboard. With which wish I dutifully complied.

After a few moments' reflection, she set off through a gate which I'd left open to the other pasture so that she could have access to water while out on the lawn. She stopped for a drink, turned to face the other side of the field, and thought some more.

I said, "Chloe, do whatever you want, as long as it doesn't involve any rapid changes of direction or fast speeds."

She headed down toward the creek. The horses always cross the creek (whether dry or muddy) at high speed, so when Chloe stopped at the edge of the mire to evaluate the situation, I slid off.

She immediately became very imperious and demanded that I get back on. How did she express this? She looked exasperated, and shoved me with her head. So I remounted.

After a few more minutes, during which time she listened to me explaining the extreme precariousness of my situation, she set off across the muddy creek. She speeded up a little, but not enough to make me lose my balance.

Up the hill on the other side. Where does Chloe want to go now? Aha. The shelter. So in we went, and I got off. I don't think she was frightfully pleased about me getting off, but it was ok, because I scratched her a lot, and she dozed.

After a while, I think we both were thinking it might be time to return. We weren't sure (at least I wasn't) if I should ride or not. As I seemed to be going in the direction of her choice, Chloe decided that she could just walk beside me.

At the creek, we both stopped and looked. Chloe came up right beside me to assess. I found two dry hummocks to place my feet on, and made it across semi-dry. Chloe followed.

She was ready to go back into the other pasture. After I let her in, she waited for me to come in with her. The other horses were out of sight, so I walked with her until she could see them, and then she was happy to set off towards them without me.

So - the ability to make someone get on your back gives you the ability to command the services of a built-in buddy, who will accompany you wherever you go when you want to set off by yourself away from the other horses.

Yee Haw

Driving home today, I hoped that Chloe would be by the gate so that I could let her out without the rest of the gang. As I turned in the drive, there she was, waiting by the gate. So I opened the gate, and out she came.

When I come out with treats to work on Chloe's tricks, she'll often walk away after a short while, or even before we've started. Today, I had no agenda and, leaving the groceries still in the car, I went over to crouch on the ground in front of Chloe.

She plonked a forefoot on top of my knee, which is one of her tricks. I expressed my appreciation, and then went to pick an apple off the tree for her. She ate it without much enthusiasm and walked off.

As I was starting to gather the groceries from the car, I saw that Chloe had stopped grazing and was parked in the middle of the driveway, apparently waiting.

I walked over, scratched her for a minute, and then stationed myself in mounting position. Chloe gave what I have come to recognize as her "up you get" signal, which is turning her head around and pointing at me with her nose.

So I kicked and flailed myself up onto her back. She is so small, there is no excuse for the kicking and flailing - I should be able to leap up like a gazelle; however, Chloe stood like a little Rock of Gibraltar throughout the process.

Once I was settled, she essayed a step. I wobbled precariously. She stopped. Another step, another wobble; she stopped again. Finally I was stable enough for her to set off towards a good grazing spot on the lawn. I sat comfortably while she ate.

So, what am I learning from Chloe?

I'm learning that tricks can be fun for horses too, and that perhaps they don't always want it to be a mercenary transaction - perhaps sometimes for them it can be that offering a reward takes the heart out of it.

I'm learning that having a plan is not always a good idea. But I'm also learning that sometimes a crazy plan can pop into your head and it might just be the right thing to do: Hey! You know what? I think I might just climb on top of this pony!

I'm learning the importance of trust. When I clamber onto Chloe's back, what allows me to do this is not training or practice but the fact that Chloe has decided to make it safe for me. The trust I feel in her far surpasses the trust I have in a horse whose training keeps it standing still.

I'm learning that "training" is a two-way street, but that, while the cues humans use are often arbitrary, horses state their meaning by simply using their words.

Oasis

The horse world has been giving me fits lately.

George bucked my daughter off the other day. After not doing anything with him for months, my daughter decided to take him out for a walk one day. The next day, she saddled him up and took him for a ride. He looked happy to set off, balked a lot at the end of the drive, and then settled down. Eventually, well into the ride, something scary in the bushes set him a-bucking. Girl was dumped, and George took off. Girl was not amused and accused me of having no "dead-broke" horses for her enjoyment. Harrumph.

Then I've had a series of extremely uncooperative trimming clients. One horse recently broke free before I even started on the first foot. He took off, and his owner couldn't catch him again. The next one simply refused to have his hind legs done. There were others. None of this is necessarily my fault, but it definitely has the effect of making me feel like a complete loser.

Then the sun comes out.

Yesterday I went to trim six new horses at one barn. They outdid each other in politesse and noblesse oblige, and I was able to complete the trimming with my dignity intact. Later that day, I went to give the mini horse Charlie his fourth trim. This little guy has not had much time for me in the past, but yesterday he allowed me, and not his owner, to catch him. When we were finished and Charlie was set free, instead of making a bee line for freedom as he has always done in the past, he stuck by us, and we all enjoyed a few minutes of peaceful companionship. When I started to pack up, he walked off and stood in his little shed. As I was leaving, I called out, "Bye, Charlie!" and he whinnied after me. And his feet (which were miles long and curled up like jester shoes when I first saw him) should finally look completely normal after the next trim.

As a further antidote to the horse blues, Chloe has stayed very sweet about encouraging me to scramble up onto her back.

George needs a lot more attention if he's going to be a safe riding buddy. I have to refine my skills in dealing with stroppy clients, but .....

When in this state myself almost despising,
Haply I think on Chloe and Charlie, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate.
For their sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

(With apologies to the Bard.)

Chloe Takes It Up a Notch

I used to think two conflicting things about Chloe. The first was that maybe if she were 15 or 16 hands, she might just be my dream horse. And the other was that if she were 15 or 16 hands, she'd be way too scary to deal with.

Today, after the horses had eaten, they charged back across the field into their shelter to escape the relentless and bloodthirsty horseflies which are out in force at this time of year. Chloe, however, stayed outside with me.

She pressed up against me and followed me whenever I moved off. Out in the open field, with the pesky flies and the other horses nearby, I felt too vulnerable to climb onto her back. I leaned across her, and scratched her, but couldn't quite summon up the gumption to scramble aboard.

Chloe kept pressing me and following me. I saw a tire lying on the ground and said to her, "If I stand on that tire, it'll be easier for me to climb onto your back." I duly walked over to the tire and stood on the rim. Chloe followed and positioned herself next to me so that it was easy for me to hop on. Once I was settled, she walked forward. This was ok. However, she suddenly quickened her pace when Bridget appeared behind us, and I thought it prudent at this point to slide off.

Bridget and Chloe followed me to the gate and demanded to know why they couldn't come through as well.

Stop that, Bridget!

Later in the evening, I was sitting on the porch with a book and a g&t when Chloe came up to the fence and looked at me across the lawn. I called out a greeting to her. She walked round to the gate and waited. It was twilight and too late to be taking her out, but I went over and pulled handfuls of grass for her.

I don't know where the scary horse went, but the one that stayed behind might be my dream horse after all, even if she is only 12 hands high.

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.

"Riding" Chloe

After Chloe had spent a couple of hours out on the lawn, it was time for her to return to the pasture. She came over to me to have her neck scratched for a little while, and then I heaved myself up onto her back, potato-sack style. She waited until I was in position and then set off to the pasture gate.

Not being very securely positioned, I slid off. She waited while I got up again. Again I slid off after a few steps. This time, she stopped, turned around, and nudged me. I loaded myself up again, and we made it to the gate.

Maybe next time, I'll try for astride.

Sancho Panza, here I come.