Horse Party

Today the horses and I had a festive gathering.

First of all, I let them out into the yard and played some tricks and training with Bridget. Then I tried to mow the lawn. When the lawnmower broke down (yet again), I pondered for half a second whether or not to go inside and do inside chores, and ditched that idea in favor of staying outside and messing about with the horses.

The center of fun was the open back of the station wagon. Bridget pulled my trimming bucket out onto the ground, so I decided that if she was so all-fired interested in the trimming equipment, I may as well try and tidy up her toes. She let me, after a fashion. George came over to see what was up and amused himself by pulling everything else out of the back of the car and then licking the carpet to see if years of spills had left any tasty remnants.

Rose, uncharacteristically, came over and planted herself in front of me, so I did her toes too. I don't think she was saying, "I volunteer to stand quietly while you trim my feet" - it was more like "Hey, my feet are just as important as Bridget's, right?" George had a little manicure too.

So we did a spot of trimming, and threw objects around, and stuck our heads inside bags, and attempted to dismantle parts of the car, and just generally had a convivial time.

The High Chaperone

George and Bridget's relationship is still very iffy. There has been considerable rapprochement of late, and the two of them can share the same, oh about, 15-foot-radius space in peace (especially if Rose is there too), but there's no companionable touching - only the occasional nip (from George) or kick (from Bridget). And of course Bridget still fears George's outbursts, his I'm-in-charge-and-you-will-move-NOW attacks.

This evening, I went out to spend time in the pasture with the horses. I climbed onto the trunk of a fallen tree, giving me a comfortable perch about four feet off the ground.

The horses followed. Here is Bridget investigating.

George came over too, and pretty soon he and Bridget had stationed themselves, one on each side of their elevated chaperone, and proceeded to cautiously work their way towards each other, all the while pretending to be only interested in sniffing the bark or chewing my shoelaces.

They nibbled the grass still clinging to the roots of the tree, chewed on the dirt, pulled at my shoes, pawed the ground, inched their noses close to each other, retreated, and sometimes George snuck around behind me and reached over the tree trunk towards Bridget. Everything was very quiet and tentative, except for one moment of scuffle when George reached over the tree trunk and tried to bite Bridget. Then he decided to have a little rest.

I'm just going to stand here, k?

Here is Bridget trying to climb up with me

The upended roots are providing a safety barrier between them.

Finally George turned away from Bridget and stationed himself lengthwise along the tree trunk, parking his butt where I could conveniently scratch it.

(My new camera phone is not good, especially in poor light.)

Here are two pictures I took earlier today, which have no particular story attached to them, but I just kindof like them.

Operation Bridget

The good news is that Bridget is flat-backed and so Kelsey's (R.I.P.) old saddle fits her. The bad news is that Bridget is flat-backed and so, no matter how tight you fasten the girth, when you put your weight in the stirrup, the saddle is guaranteed to slip.

I've been looking over my journal from last year, and I realized I was spending a lot more time doing things with the horses last September. Having the horses loose in the yard on a regular basis means I can pop out for a minute or two here and there to say hello; I can sit on the porch and have a cordial chat with whomever happens to stick their head over the rail, or hand a carrot out the kitchen door. However, I think this interaction has meant I haven't felt the need to devote more time just to the horses.

So I decided Bridget and I have to get going with whatever it is we're going to get going with.

Today, I got out the clicker, filled a pocket with tiny carrot pieces, and fetched a saddle and bridle from the barn.

The first trick was learning to wait for the click, as of course once Bridget got wind of the pocketful of carrots, she was intent on getting as many as possible as quickly as possible. Anyway, she got the hang of that, and then we tried backing and turning. Maybe I shouldn't do so many things all at once, but Bridget's smart, and I'm impatient!

I'll need more time to work with the clicker to decide what I think of it. Having read on Song of the Black Horse that using the clicker creates a fast track in the learning process, I decided it was worth a second look.

Then I tied Bridget to the gate and put on the saddle. Hopefully one day we'll have a small space where we can tack up at liberty. I put on the bitless bridle, and it fits Bridget better than Rose, as Bridget's head is deeper, which means the cheek pieces are well away from her eyes.

We went for a walk. I was just determined we were actually going to go for a walk. Bridget stopped a few times, but she resumed walking each time, as I was clearly on a mission. I got fed up with being pushed off the dirt lane and onto the grass so she could eat, so I pushed her back and kept going.

I promised her a grazing break when we got to some shade trees at the bottom of the hill. She grazed for a while and then saw the COWS. She marched further down the lane to get closer to them, and they came scurrying over to the fence check her out. (Fence = 1 strand of wire, not electrified.)

Bridget was breathing fire and levitating, but happily she kept in touch with me and showed no signs of taking off. In fact she reallyreally wanted to say hello to the cows, but it was all a bit too scary. They were two-year old Holstein heifers. I know this, as their DOBs were on their ear tags, as were their names. Some of them had normal names, like Cayla and Caren. Others had weird ones, like Portage and Vision.

After the exciting cow interlude, we headed home. I asked Bridget to walk next to me without forging ahead. Whenever she got out in front of me, I stopped and waited for her to put herself back in position. And we practiced going real slow and then picking up the pace. I figure that if we're going to go out riding together, we'll need to have a sense of doing things together, listening to each other, being a unit. Walking together is a good way to start.

We stopped for Bridget to eat some particularly yummy grass.

At this point, Bridget was standing in a conveniently located ditch - hmm, good opportunity .... so I stuck my foot in the stirrup and hoisted myself up so all my weight was in the stirrup and I was leaning over her back. And - yes! - I clicked, then doled out a treat. We did this two or three times (putting the saddle back into position each time), and Bridget remained largely uninterested due to the profusion of herbage at her feet.

So, well, we're getting there.

Later, I went out for a dusk social call to the pasture. First Bridget came over for a visit, then George, then Bridget again. When George came over for a second time, he carefully placed himself into position behind me and proceeded to nudge me over to the gate. So I put the halter on, took him out, and let him graze all the way down the driveway and back up again before I turned in for the night. I thought it was very clever and cute of him to figure out how to tell me what to do.

George enjoying the fruits of his maneuvering.

Rose Explores

Today, when I opened the gate for George to come out onto the lawn, Rose was at the ready. She'd been watching and waiting for the Open Sesame and had positioned herself to follow George out. A first! She set off happily to see what she could see.

Here is Bridget's opinion of George and Rose going off without her.

George enjoyed a roll on the lawn. He wouldn't stop eating though, and in between gyrations, he continued snatching mouthfuls of grass from a reclining position.

I had big plans for cleaning house and putting away laundry today, but somehow it was so much more enticing to spend time with Rose and George wandering around the yard. When I put my daughter on the bus this morning, it was 40F, but by noontime it was perfect weather for lounging in the shade.

When I caught George and returned him to the field, Rose thought about it and decided, well, maybe she wouldn't go with him. I let her stay out, in the interests of Building Independence.

To my surprise, she attached herself to me and followed me across the yard away from the other horses. She checked in with me a couple of times, touching my arm ever so softly with her nose.

Frequently she looked back to make sure she knew where the others were. When she finally got homesick and headed back, she found George looking over the fence. Poor George - starved for affection. With the fence safely intervening, Rose permitted a little mutual grooming.

Look - you can make out Rose's ribs in this photo. She has such a huge chest that her ribs are visible even when she's quite well covered, which she is at the moment.

When Rose made it clear that she wanted to go back to the field, she was, however, unwilling to let me put her halter on. She doesn't think too much of halters. However, I was determined that if I put the halter on, and then took her to the field where she wanted to go and then took it off again, that would constitute a Good Halter Experience, and so I persevered. I don't believe in pussy-footing around or being sneaky, so I just kept going up to her and saying, "Here's the halter, let's put it on." Took a lot of tries, but she finally agreed.

Rose is what, I believe, Klaus Ferdinand Hempfling calls "The Sceptic." But today, when she was striding around the yard on her own, I thought her face looked rather different - stronger, more authoritative, more outgoing. She's an interesting character, our Rose.

Greeting

This morning I fed the horses as usual, and as usual when it's mealtime, they have no time to spare for socializing. Except occasionally Bridget.

Feeling a desire for some friendly interaction, I parked myself beside Bridget and waited. After a little while, she raised her head, turned her whole body towards me, and reached out with her front leg. I grabbed hold of it and rubbed her knee, while she stuck her nose in my hair. I'm certain now that it is correct to think of the leg gesture as a greeting. She soon went back to her breakfast, but I felt much better.

Her mane is getting very long. I wonder if she'll allow me
to shampoo and condition it when the weather is warmer?