Round Pen

Prior to anyone riding Rose again, I knew that I should accustom her to the round pen. She's often anxious about leaving her pasture, and she can get quite unthinking when she's anxious - not safe. She's fine if she picks the direction and timing of outings, and she can be reluctant to go back into the pasture, so it's not that she's herd-bound. Just anxious about new things. Both George and Bridget have embraced the round pen as a safe space (as long as someone's in there with them) - they recognize it as a place for conversation and experimentation. I wanted the same for Rose.

So a new Rose-in-the-round-pen campaign was begun. The first time I took her up, she was indeed rather anxious. Horses release emotion through movement, and by my inviting her to use the round pen to run around, she was able to discharge some of that flight/fear reaction in a more controlled way. I say "invite" deliberately, because I no longer use the round pen to insist that the horse run or move in any particular way. The horses will accept an invitation because they recognize that the round pen is a tool which they can use for their own comfort and advantage And if they choose not to accept the invitation, that is fine too.

After a while, I tried to encourage Rose to walk instead of run, but she was not yet able to turn the volume down on her emotions. However, a short while later, without being asked and without being asked to move at all, she took up an active, even walk at the rail of the pen. After several circuits, I asked her if she would like to try the other direction. She accepted, and turned, and continued her energetic walk.

It's exciting that the horses are able to figure out how to use the round pen in different ways to help them feel better, to work through issues and problems, and to try out new things. (For example: George's Practice.)

Since that first time, Rose has been confident in the round pen, and when the time came to bring my husband out to ride her, she was very content to meander about or just stand still and rest beside him.

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.

Drama and Developments

So this happened: wild dogs killed a horse at our barn here (welcome to Texas). Not one of mine - a mare, one of a group of three horses retired to pasture. I found the horse because of the vultures already swarming, and discovered the wild dogs because one of the other horses told me when I went to check up on him. He gave a tiny gesture with his head - I looked in that direction and saw two of what I thought must be the biggest coyotes in the land. Further reflection caused me (and others when I described what I saw) to think they must be feral or stray dogs - their color was too monochrome and their size too large for coyotes. I saw one of them a week later also.

The barn owners are installing a game camera to see if these felons are still in the area, and we also moved the victim's pasture mates and my horses (who were in the field next door) to a location closer to the barn and house. If the dogs are still around, they'll try to shoot them - or (last resort) use humane traps. These are not ideal, as random innocent coyotes will be caught, which are hard to release without harming or killing them.

Because of the pasture re-shuffle (long story, not worth telling), George is now in with a group of geldings, and Bridget, Rose, and Chloe were moved in with the survivors of the dog attack - an old mare named Sasha and an older gelding called Jack. George is content to be one of the boys and established himself as No. 4 out of 5 without much fuss. The barn manager says he's much easier for her to handle - more laid back. No pesky females for him to keep in line. He and his mares (Rose and Bridget - Chloe doesn't give a damn) are still very bonded and congregate by the dividing fence in a spot where there are some large friendly trees for all to rest in the shade together. The other geldings join them sometimes.

So little Bridget is now Queen of the World. She's the youngest horse in the pasture and in the top spot. Heavy is the head, and all that. She's lording it over the others, but has become anxious about leaving them too. New responsibilities - moving on in life.

I went away on a hoof-trimming visit to Pennsylvania right after George moved ne and Bridget got her promotion. On my return three weeks later, I found things were not quite the same. Bridget was reluctant to leave the pasture and eager to get back - she who used to stand banging on the gate to be taken out and never really wanted to be put back again. She was still just as glad to see me, but not keen for me to put the halter on.

But here's what she did the first time we were together after my return. She saw me, walked over, stood in front of me, took a step backwards, and - I swear to God - bowed.

She knew I would have treats (which I always bring and offload in the first few minutes, and then we're done), and she knows to turn her nose away before being offered one, which she's always done in a rather peremptory fashion. But this was way, way more of a gesture than that.  I don't know where it came from. Another thing: she's always been slow to move for me - if I ask her to back up, the gears have to grind, and she has to unglue her front feet from the ground first. But since her promotion, it appears that she is quicker and more responsive - in backing and turning, her forehand is lighter. Clearly there is a sea change taking place in her psyche and body. We'll see where it all leads us!

 As for Chloe, for the first time since she's been with us, she has her very own best buddy. She and Jack have teamed up and become partners in crime, a term I use justly as they are allowed to roam the property at large and lately have been invading the workshop and barn and generally causing minor mayhem.

Jack and Chloe

Co-conspirators

Time and Trust

The much-anticipated workshop of November 15 has taken place! At Harmony Ranch in Van Vleck, Texas, I joined Christin Staszesky Harper, her five horses, and seven other students for a day of the Yoga of Equine Wisdom.

There's a lot to unpack from this workshop, and a lot to say, but I won't try to do it all at once. One thing - "Yoga" in this case has the meaning "Union," not a bunch of asanas.

Among the themes which emerged during the course of the day, trust and taking time were two which stood out. The issue of trust was introduced initially in human-to-human exercises, such leading each other and falling (not very far) backwards into a partner's waiting hands. Then as an exploration of horse/human trust, we took turns picking up a horse's foot. Most of the people at the workshop were not experienced with horses, and so this was something which might induce a degree of trepidation or uncertainty, perhaps on both sides. The human had to trust that it was safe to pick up the foot of the horse, and the horse had to feel confidence in the human in order to allow its foot to be picked up.

One horse had already picked up his forefeet a couple of times, and when the next human approached and asked for his foot, he refused. Very calmly and politely, but a refusal nonetheless. Then again, refusal is probably the wrong word. In humanspeak, we think of a refusal as a loud, or least emphatic,  "No!" The horse's No was more like the No of a rock that is just too heavy to lift. Our coach did not try to coach the human in a better or more explicit way to induce the horse to pick up his foot. And the student did not get flustered. The coach eventually questioned the student as to whether she perhaps could find some inner resistance on her part. No, she really couldn't. Then finally, our coach said, "You see - being with horses takes time!" And no sooner were the words out of her mouth than up came the foot.

Coincidence? Hmm.

Thinking back, there were many examples during the day of trust and taking time. And when I went to the barn today, I pondered the many examples I encountered there.

I bring some treats with me to the pasture. George, Rose and Bridget all come up and stand in a semi-circle around me, each waiting politely for their turn to receive a treat. Each one trusts that they will get their share and trusts that the other horses will not steal from them or bite them or drive them away. I trust them not to hurt me. It has taken a long time to reach this point - four years. Chloe still doesn't trust the others and stands in the background. But she trusts that I will throw her a treat and waits expectantly.

George is fearful of the cold; he doesn't trust the future food supply and feels he may starve. When I arrive he stands by the gate, trusting that I will take him out and let him graze. I take the time to stand beside him for an hour while he tries to satisfy his craving for calories.

Clover has carbs!

When it's Bridget's turn to come out of the pasture, I hold her leadrope and stand with her by the gate. George stands there too. It's hard for him to let her leave. At times, George comes between Bridget and me, his chest pressing against the rope. In the past this would have been a dangerous situation which I would have avoided at all costs, otherwise he would end up biting her and driving her away, possibly causing her to run me over in the process. Today, however, Bridget trusts George to control himself. She stands alert, but calm and patient, on the other end of the rope, giving George the time he needs to relinquish the gate. Which eventually he does - he ups and walks definitively away, allowing me plenty of time to open the gate, extract Bridget, and close the gate again.

Bridget, having been well-fed since birth does trust the food supply. While she is very happy to have snack breaks, she's more interested in exploring. Sometimes we run together.

Chloe has been giving me the Look since I arrived. She stands in the background, fixing me pointedly with her eyes and intention. The Look generally means, "Take (or let) me out." When I return Bridget to the field, George decides to stay near the gate, Bridget goes for a drink, and Rose tries to do what she always does when she wants to be in charge of where to go - she tries to gather Chloe up and shoo her ahead. I defend Chloe, who stands close by me, trusting that I will keep Rose away. Finally Rose, slightly huffy, walks off, and Chloe and I walk together to the far gate. Bridget follows us, but I convince her to keep her distance. Still Chloe trusts that I will keep her safe. When we reach the gate, I open it and invite Chloe to exit. She watches and waits for the right moment, then out she goes. When I first began allowing Chloe to say No, it took time - six months - before she trusted me enough to leave the pasture with me. And I trust Chloe to behave appropriately outside the confines of the fence, wearing no tack.

Chloe and I have a little walk, Chloe grazes, I sit down, and Chloe remembers her foot trick. She puts her foot on top of my bended knee and then looks for a treat, but I'm all out. She doesn't mind.

When it's time for me to leave, I realize that I have actually no way of getting Chloe back into the field. She doesn't buy me leading from behind - she knows I don't really mean it. I try taking off my belt and using it as a collar but that's about as much use as trying to move her by blowing at her. In the end, I run back and fetch a halter and leadrope (and apple). As soon as halter and rope are on, Chloe moves off readily, and we run together back to the gate. Rose is waiting, and the two of them stand trustingly side by side while I hand them bites of apple. Bridget comes up in time for the last morsel.

Sometimes Chloe lets me climb on her back. She trusts that I will not insist and will only go ahead with her permission. Today was not one of those days, but last week she allowed me the privilege. For me, that is the biggest leap (scramble!) of trust of all. Usually, I try to get up quickly, uneasy that she might take off or move. Then I realized that on those occasions when she decides it's ok, it really is ok. Last week, when Chloe stood still to let me clamber aboard, I think I managed to let go of my uncertainty and allow myself to take all the time I needed to climb up, allowing myself to feel her trustworthiness.

After Saturday's workshop, I feel I have a clearer mandate to continue waiting and trusting. Trusting not just the horses as individuals, but the whole process of unfolding. As Chloe and I were walking to the gate today, I felt a moment of anxiety - Will she come out? Will I fail? And then I realized that it didn't matter - that if I was serious about trusting the horses and trusting the future, I would accept with equanimity either outcome. There is so much to be grateful for; and so much in my life for which I am grateful was unplanned and unforeseen. Unexpected gifts can be better than the ones we hope for.

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!

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.

Fun and Games

Today I thought it would be fun to get all the horses to be polite and stand still while I doled out treats. I pictured how calm and pleasant it would be if they would all hold a position and quietly wait for me to pass around goodies. I actually felt very enthusiastic about this project, and bounced out to the field with a pouch full of tasty morsels.

Naturally, George came over to claim first dibs. We worked on George standing still, resuming his position if he broke it, and then waiting in position while I walked away and returned. At first he got grouchy when I asked him to replace his foot back into position once it had moved forward. But I did the bridgey thing and kept the treats coming, and pretty soon he was rock solid.

So rock solid, in fact, that when I turned to work with Miss Bridget, George just stood in position looking cheerfully expectant, and every now and then I would send a congratulatory intermediate bridge word over to him or step over and give him a treat.

Bridget was less cranky (not at all cranky, in fact) about being asked to move back into position after stepping forward. But she was a deal more persistent about trying to move.

However, for a moment or two, I had George and Bridget secure enough that I could walk away and give a treat to Rose, without either of them breaking position.

It all turned out to be remarkably enjoyable and gratifying.

Next I started with George on the amazingly clever game in the video in the post before last. I do believe he started to figure it out.

As my kids used to say:  "Oh the fun-ness!!"

Gold Stars All Round

Yesterday, I girded up my loins and sallied forth into the pasture, armed with three new tubes of ivermectin, generic brand - purchased, to my surprise and delight, for like only four dollars each.

I felt there was some necessity for loin-girding in as much as my little darlings are all totally spoiled and accustomed to molly-coddling and to having their opinions taken into account at every turn. They are like the offspring of those earnest middle-aged parents whom you encounter in 57th Street Books kids' section, intent on having an intellectual discussion with their 5-year old on the merits of a Paul Klee art book. Which is the way I want it, mind you, but sometimes, well, sometimes you kind of have to summon up a bit of emotional slash mental energy to discuss Paul Klee with a five-year old.

Pah! Silly me! George was, like, a complete little angel. He opened his mouth and ate his medicine and then his carrot, and then stood aside and let me get to the mares. Bridget, too, was a perfect little paragon about the whole thing.

Rose, of course, did not want to have anything to do with the procedure at first. She did her cute, rather pathetic, Rose thing of turning her head away so that her nose is all the way over touching her shoulder. Or the not so cute thing of jerking her head up into the air. So I let her do all those things to her heart's content and persisted with naming and explaining, inspired by Kayce Cover and the rhinoceros. (Synalia  press site, scroll down a little.)

I thought perhaps we might actually be there all evening, but after not so very long she stopped turning away, stood quiet, and opened her mouth. She even let me back to squeeze a little more in after a dollop had dropped on the ground. Wow!

Chloe was let off the hook as the tube of wormer I had on the shelf turned out to be past its expiration date.

And on the topic of Kayce Cover, here is a really cool video, which inspires me to try out the awesome game they are playing therein. Whaddya think?

Aw

I was going through old photos on the computer and came across some pictures of Bridget back when she was called Pandora and still lived at the rescue barn. I took these photos during a period of time when I went to visit her a couple of times, probably pretending to be "helping out" but secretly thinking of adopting her. She lived in a large pasture with a creek running through it, and her pasture mate was none other than Rose, whom I found very standoffish and slightly intimidating. Who knew she was going to come live with us too?!

Always ready to follow along to see if there's some fun to be had.

Now what?

Having followed me to the gate, Bridget protests being
left in the pasture with that boring grown up, Rose.

You can see she was in a phase of not quite having grown into her head. When she was very little, she had beautiful conformation, and now she's grown back into pretty nice proportions. But, hey, who cares about conformation! It's what's inside that counts, right?

The rescue owner always wanted me to adopt Pandora/Bridget, but I always thought she was so nice that she would work out well with lots of different people, and there was no need for me to be that person. I think I recall that after my visits to her in the big pasture by the creek, I realized I didn't want her to work out well with someone else - I wanted her to work out well with ME.

Getting Serious

Bridget is growing up.  Physically, she has all but lost her adolescent disproportion and gawkiness and is returning to the beautiful conformation which made her stand out as a baby. Mentally, she is becoming more serious - and more challenging.

She is still curious and affectionate and goofy. But there is an increasing air of imperiousness about her, and a sense that she is becoming someone who demands respect.

Today, as I was working with her, she became impatient. I insisted, by being stubborn rather than by applying pressure, that she pay attention and work with me. She did, but when I set her free, she left immediately - which is not like her.

She doesn't yet have Chloe's wisdom, nor does she have the immense reserves of kindness and courtesy hidden behind George's gruff facade. Or the great sweetness of Rose.

What she does have is intelligence, boldness, enthusiasm, charm, good sense, playfulness, optimism, communicativeness, and cordiality.

I hope that if I work with her regularly, she will learn that there is something to be said for this activity. Going for walks may be a good way of working together. I think I may suspend the privilege she currently enjoys of swinging her tail towards me so that I can scratch her hindquarters. I don't know. I feel a need now to set some boundaries - at least temporarily - and to discuss with her the reality that as she grows into her new role as an adult, I will not allow her to add to her status by trying to lord it over me.

Enjoying a little home-grown alfalfa on the first day of autumn

Pony Rides

Chloe often extricates herself from the herd, sneaks over to the gate, and lurks - waiting for someone to let her out. When she hears the sound of the kitchen door opening, her head pops up, and she stares at the house in anticipation. I do a sort of Grandmother's Footsteps walk over to the gate, freezing if one of the other horses looks over, and surreptitiously open the gate to let her dart out, quick, before anyone else gets there. Here she is, waiting --

Sometimes she just wants to graze. Other times, she likes to hang out and be scratched, or just snooze. The other day, on a whim, I clambered onto her back - not astride, just plonked like a sack of potatoes over her back. She stood still as a rock. I got off, moved away, and she followed me. I repeated this a few more times, and then again a couple of times today, and each time she has stood unmoving and has followed me when I get off and leave her.

Today there was a bunch of kids at the house while Chloe was loose on the lawn. A boy noticed her first (actually she noticed him and sought him out) and asked if he could ride her. I said we'd have to ask. I didn't want to get a halter - seemed too coercive - so we got into position. I knelt on one knee by her head, and told the boy to put his left foot on my other knee. Chloe's reaction was interesting. She almost closed her eyes and started to park out. When we first got her, she knew all about parking out as her owner had taught her to do it for show. But I wonder if in her distant past, someone had once taught her to park out so that a small person could climb on her back. Which, after all, is what parking out was invented for.

Once the boy was on board, Chloe started to move. I held on to her neck, as the boy was a neophyte and I didn't want Chloe taking off with him into the distance. He hopped off, and asked if we could put a halter on. We did, but after that she didn't want to cooperate any more and asked to go back into the field. So I let her go.

The boy then asked to ride George. George was happy to oblige. I gave the kid a leg up, and after a spell of grazing, we set off for a walk. Which turned into quite a long walk, as George did not want to go home. At one point, I paused with the intention of turning for home. At that moment George gently nipped my hand. I objected slightly to his manner of expressing himself, but I knew what he was talking about and said, ok, we could keep going away from home.

He then marched down the road farther than he's ever gone before. At the sheep farm, he looked around intently for the sheep, and discovered them in the distance, grazing in a field set far back from the road. He continued to the next house, which also owns a small flock of sheep. I think he knew they were going to be around the next corner, and he was rather conflicted about whether or not to continue. As we needed to be thinking about getting home, I decided for him.

Next the boy's sister wanted to ride Rose. I put George back, gave Bridget on a lead rope to one of the girls at the house - a girl whom Bridget has a fondness for - so that she could come out and graze, and I set off with the boy's sister on board Rose. Rose was again eager to set out, but we couldn't go far because of time.

As we were returning, we heard a big commotion up at the house. Bridget had realized she was separated from both Rose and the horses in the field, with a strange car coming up the drive and a relative stranger holding her leadrope. So she basically freaked out. Sometimes Bridget is a drama queen. No harm was done. And I must say Rose was much calmer when she heard the sound of the other horses galloping around the field than she was last time. However, as this is the second time there's been trouble from letting someone hold one of the horses, I think I'd better learn my lesson.

It was the boy's first time on a horse apart from pony rides at the carnival, so he was very proud of himself. Not only did he go for a long bareback ride on a big horse - he trotted a bit and even sat a little spook. He kept up a conversation with George as we walked along, asking him questions and making polite remarks. I think George enjoyed it.

It's paint. (In case you're wondering.)

A break to pick clover for George

Rose on a Mission

Rose was conscripted to give pony rides to a couple of my daughter's friends the other day. I say conscripted, but she didn't have to be asked twice and exited the field eagerly, walking past George as if to say, "Ahem, you are staying here; I am the privileged one at this moment."

One girl "knows how to ride," so I gave her a leg up bareback, attached ropes for reins, and set off down the drive beside Rose, keeping a cautious hand near the halter.

Rose strode forward, almost in a rush. The horses (apart from Chloe) often seem so keen to set off for an excursion that I wonder if the rest of time they get bored, just longing to go out, and wondering what lies over the horizon. I think of what Imke Spilker says about horses being creatures of wide open spaces who are condemned by the modern world to live lives which are confined both physically and mentally; she says it's up to humans to return self-determination, or inner freedom, to horses in exchange for the physical spaces they have lost.

I let Rose pick our turnaround spot. As we approached home, the other horses came galloping over, and the noise of their thundering hoofs made Rose quite agitated. At the foot of the drive, however, she chose not to go home but to continue our walk in the opposite direction. I soon brought our expedition to an end, however, as the dogs had accompanied us, and I was worried about cars.

After Girl No.1 dismounted, I asked her to hold Rose while I ran and did something. Rose was grazing, and the girl seemed confident, so I thought everything would be fine. Wrong assumption. All of a sudden, there's a little commotion behind me - I turn around, and the girl is holding an empty halter, while Rose is cantering down the drive toward me .... past me .... out onto the road. Yikes.

Apparently Rose had stepped on the leadrope while grazing, lifted her head up suddenly, and broken the strap of the halter. I was very concerned, as the last time Rose got loose (admittedly a long time ago), she totally lost her ability to think rationally, and this time I had visions of her tearing down the road in a panic.

However, after turning onto the road and proceeding a few yards, Rose stopped. She turned to face home, peered over the fence, and stood looking at me. "Rose!" I called. She trotted back up the drive and stopped next to me. Phew. A potentially dangerous turn of events, but almost worth it to see the difference in Rose's reaction since the last time this happened.

The second girl has no experience with horses, so I said she could just sit up on Rose while she grazed. However, once the girl was on board, Rose had other ideas and set off on a tour of the yard. For Rose, there seems to be something liberating about having a person on her back. In the pasture, if she wants to go somewhere, she'll drive Chloe (the only one she's able to drive) ahead of her, so that she doesn't have to go alone. I guess the built-in buddy-on-board is another version of that.

After the pony rides, Rose was thanked with a carrot and returned to the pasture.

Riding George

I still haven't quite figured out how this goes. The power-sharing thing, that is. George hasn't figured it out either.

If I say stop, and George says go, that's not ok. I guess. If I say go, and George says no, that is ok. I'm sure of that. We can just wait. If I say go this way, and George says, let's go that way, that might be fine. If I say go forward, and George says go back, that's ok-but-not-ok - in other words, I'll let him go back, but with an expectation that it's temporary.

It's ok to eat, but mostly that should happen when I decide. Mostly. If George decides to trot, that's fine, but he has to let me control the speed.

On Sunday, I felt like going for a ride. So, as is my new custom, I announced my intention by fetching out a saddle and hanging it on the gate; I then waited to see who would come over. Well, they all came, and I think they were actually hoping that I'd let them out to play in the yard. However, George touched the saddle with his nose, which is the signal for "Take me out and let's tack up!" It is highly likely that George didn't in fact know that this signifies any such thing, but if he'd objected to being tacked up, I'd've put him back in the field. In fact, he was a little angel, and didn't even make a face when I did up the girth.

I got my daughter to stand by his head while I hopped up onto his back with my newfound agility. (Some day I'll tell you about that.) George decided to go down the drive, and I agreed. At the end of the drive, there was a period of discussion, involving me saying, "Let's go," and George demurring. However, I waited, and pretty soon he decided to set off.

Once in motion, he got quite keen and even wanted to trot away from home down the farm lane. There were a lot of things to look at and wonder about, but he stayed with me. We had a couple of bounces and frights on the way back, what with the crazy mares running around the field, and the lawnmower, and such, but nothing too unsettling.

The thing I see with George is that he does not have an expectation that I'm going to be saying much to him, other than in very broad terms - stop/go/left/right. Whereas with Rose already, who is much "greener," I can feel an awareness from her that I might be communicating on a more subtle level - communicating things about her body and movement, input which she might consider taking into account.  I rode George with the bitless bridle, and I think he actually prefers the bit. He's never minded putting it on, and the wider straps of the bitless were causing him to want to scratch his head a lot. Perhaps he'd be more in listening mode if he were wearing the bit.

When we returned home, I was able to tell my daughter that George had been very nice. I reflected that there was a time when such a ride might have resulted in my saying that the horse had been annoying or difficult. But each time we had a difference of opinion, neither of us became irritated or fearful or resistant, and so I was able to truthfully say that George had been nice. Which he was.

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.

A Good Morning's Work

Golly, but horses love a project. When I was out trimming this morning, they all wanted to cluster around and participate. When I took a break, they followed me, as if saying, "What are we going to do now?" And when I finally finished and sat down on the grass, tired out from the unseasonable heat, they stood close by, dozing.

I'd decided that today I was going to trim Bridget, but as I drove home from mass this morning, I was aware of not feeling great at the prospect. There were two parts (at least) to this, and the first part I figured out pretty quickly. My plan had been to bring Bridget out of the pasture for trimming, and - in turn - anyone else I got around to doing. This plan was flawed: firstly, the extracting of each individual would involve several steps and a lot of patience. Secondly, whoever was being extracted would assume that I was going to put them in the field across the drive to eat. So I resolved instead to trim inside the field, putting some hay in a net for the trimmee, and some on the ground for the others. This plan made me feel better.

As I was setting things up, the second part of my discomfort became apparent. It's got something to do with me feeling too apologetic sometimes, or just not going for what I want. A feeling of swimming against the current or eating jello with a fork, I don't know what to call it, but I could feel it, and - feeling it - I could somehow fix it. I decided to be determined and unapologetic and to just, well, Git 'R Done.

And we did! All 16 feet in record time, and the horses all behaved like little angels.

George volunteered first, and he has never been so good about getting his feet done. Next Bridget came up to volunteer. She gave me cause to remember how important it is - even while Being Determined - to respect the horse's no. On one occasion I was fiddling with some last details on Bridget's RF. and she kept taking it away. I was beginning to get a little irritated when I noticed that she was waggling her RH in the air. No worries! Why should I insist on her RF, when she was so eager for me to work on her RH?! Also, when she - or one of the other mares - became a little restless and uncooperative, it was usually because another horse was inching into their space a little too closely for comfort. It was helpful for me to be notified of this, so that I could shoo the other horse away and prevent an Incident.

And talking of shooing away - as I wrote the other day, George and I have moved on to a new phase in our relationship. One characteristic of this new phase, I discovered today, is that I can shoo him away without making him angsty and without being stern. I had a handy branch beside me at the ready, and waved it at him whenever he crept too close. And he would back up, looking at me with an expression that seemed to convey a sense of humor. It reminded me of something like as if I were mixing up a batch of cookies and my husband - or one of the kids - kept stealing bits of the cookie dough to eat. And if I chased them away by waving the spoon at them, or even play-whacking them with the spoon, nobody would be upset or angry, but they would still back off, because they knew I really wanted them to. And that's how it was with George.

And sometimes he picked up the stick and waved it at me.

Can you see the humor in his expression? This is new!

It's taken George and I almost three years to begin to find a mutual sense of humor - patience, anyone?

And then here's something else he did - I'd finished trimming Bridget and was brushing her, when up sidled George. And Bridget didn't move away, so clearly there was something in his demeanor which signaled peace. And he moved into our space, with a sweet expression on his face, and there we three stood, with nobody making a fuss.

When it was time to trim Rose, she walked away from me, driving Chloe in front of her. I followed, and she kept walking (not running) away. After maybe a minute, however, she stopped, turned to me, and put her nose out to the halter. That's the way it is with Rose - she's just a little suspicious at first. Maybe she's what KFH calls "The Sceptic." And then she was really nice about having her feet done, even leaving her foot resting on the stand while I walked away to fetch something.

And speaking of walking away to fetch somethings, that would be because those somethings were strewn all over the ground. Because I always start out with the best of intentions, with everything neatly attached to the magnet on the hoof jack or in the bucket, and then by the time I'm done, everything's been dropped in the mud and left all over the place. I always spray my tools liberally with WD40 when I'm done, in hopes of minimizing the damage.

After we were done, I let the horses out to play and eat in the yard. They were so nice today, it just put me in a really good mood.

More Stuff

George, as I have recently related, has been acting agitated at dinner time as the cold weather makes him anxious about food. He's too polite to try and stick his head in the bucket while I'm carrying it, but I've been feeling pressured by him. I always point to his bucket and say (hopefully), "Go on over to your bucket, George."

Today I went in when it was almost dark. George met me at the gate. I didn't say anything except, "Hi, buddy," but George went ahead of me to his bucket and nudged it with his nose.

Earlier today, Lucy the pitbull dislocated her shoulder. Don't ask me how she did it, but the dog gang is together for Thanksgiving, getting up to all kinds of energetic highjinks together. As I was carrying Lucy to the car to take her to the vet, George came to the fence. I carried her over to him, and he sniffed the bad shoulder.

Recuperating

Dog cousins

We have human family visiting for Thanksgiving too, including my oldest daughter and her husband. My daughter has a characteristic which her husband and I find at once admirable and galling: she is always right. She has never liked "ground work" with horses and has always said that you just tell them what you want them to do and they understand it. And of course I always used to extol the value of ground work and thought she was just being impatient. Well, I'm used to her telling me I Told You So.

(Having said that, and also having resolved not to do any more "training" with George, I yesterday discovered that I could get Rose to move her hind legs by doing something with the halter and leadrope and that in Rose's case this might actually be the sort of thing we enjoy doing together.)

Yesterday my daughter and her dog came out into the field to visit the horses with me. After interacting for a little while, she informed me that our horses are like children who have grown up in a household where they are treated as if their opinions are important. She didn't mean it as a compliment. She said, "They keep coming over and trying to tell me what they think about stuff." I reminded her that this was the way she and her siblings were raised, but she reminded me that at least they were shy with adults outside of the immediate family. She likes Rose the best.

It was amusing watching her and George. He wanted to put her into a position of his choosing, and she was having none of it. He didn't get irritated though, cos that's the thing about her - she's bossy, but you don't mind. I should know - she's been managing me for 25 years. Having failed with her, George plonked me into a position near his tail. When I moved, he turned around to look at me with the most comical expression on his face: "Excuse me? Where do you think you're going?"

Anyway, in light of my recent cogitations about George and the thoughts I've been reading from K at Song of the Black Horse, I wonder if his positioning maneuvers aren't perhaps in some way significant. I'll have to think about it some more. But today I was aware of a residual mistrust of George in myself as he put me near his hindlegs, and I know he used to not trust people to be in that position. So maybe he's trying to work on us both.

My next plan is to take my daughter who doesn't like horses to visit George, hopefully tomorrow. My son-in-law yesterday was talking again about how when he was getting George ready to go for a ride, he felt that George was telling him what to do. Daughter-w-d-l-h doesn't like them because she doesn't want to have to be in control of them cos they're big and scary - but if she lets one of the horses take care of her, then maybe she'll have a different experience, and that's the sort of thing that George will like.

Why are you like that, Bridget?

George greets Roger.

Running with Bridget

I've not been posting or reading online much lately - partly because of other things (also of interest) going on, and partly because I've realized I have adult-onset ADD, brought on by excessive computer use. I'm trying to find a happy medium.

This morning, as the big horses munched their hay, Chloe decided she would prefer to come out onto the lawn, and she managed to sneak away before the others cottoned on.

When it was time for her to go back in (and she obligingly decided she wanted to return right when I decided she ought to), she planted herself by one of the gates. She didn't want me to put her halter on and walked off when I suggested it. But she let it be known that she was ready to go back in under her own steam as soon as we got the George situation figured out. After standing by the gate for a short while, George courteously moved himself around the corner from the gate to a safe position. I opened the gate wide, and Chloe strode in.

I was giving treats to Bridget and George (who stood about a foot off from me, one on my left and one on my right, politely taking turns receiving carrots), when Chloe lead Rose at a gallop down into the adjoining pasture. Chloe was not happy to be followed, and kept looking back at Rose, daggers drawn.

Anyway, all that running looked like fun, so I said to Bridget and George, "Let's go!" and I set off after Rose and Chloe.

George was a little slow to follow, but as I ran, Bridget came up beside me. I felt myself caught up in a shared surge of energy and ran as fast as I could, while Bridget trotted at just the right speed to stay abreast of me.

I ran out of breath pretty quickly and stopped. When I turned back up the field to leave, Bridget followed me. She didn't want to run again, but when I paused to talk to her, she gave me one foreleg and then the other - Bridget's gesture of enthusiasm and connection.

For a moment, when I was running beside her, I felt as if something other than my own strength was carrying me along. I wonder if horses always feel like that when they run. You know that feeling when you smile so wide your face hurts? That's how much fun it was.