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.

Oh Me of Little Faith

I came home this afternoon with good intentions. There was just enough time to fetch the lawn mower from the barn and accomplish half an hour's mowing before going out again.

However .... I looked out of the bathroom window and saw Bridget knocking on the gate. This morning she'd done the same thing - had separated herself from the herd to present herself ready for some action. I'd only had time to run out and give her an apple and a hug (plus a quick spot of backing-up practice), and now here she was again with the same request: "Take me out!" Yard work could not be as important.

Yesterday, Bridget and the others were out on lawn-mowing patrol, and I thought she wanted out so that she could continue this important and nutritious work. However, once she was through the gate, she decided to set off for a bit of a walk.

Our very short "training" interaction yesterday - which I thought she'd found slightly irritating - may have in fact rekindled her desire for human/horse activities.

We had a nice, short, convivial walk, stopping for snacks and snooping. A couple of times we enjoyed a run together, with Bridget moderating her pace to stay not too far ahead of pokey old me. When we run, I hold the very end of the leadrope in order to give her plenty of space.

When I returned her to the pasture, Bridget immediately cantered off, whinnying, to rejoin her buddies, but for a little while she'd cast her lot in with me, asserting her independence from the herd and exploring the world on her own terms. I hope that one day - soon? - we can explore further afield with Bridget carrying me on her back. Wow! Could such a thing happen?

Wind in machine make scary sound

Yum

Running with Bridget

Saddle Up

Yesterday, when I got bored scratching Bridget, I decided to go to the barn and fetch out the saddle. Bridget followed me, but when she saw me re-appearing around the corner with an armload of rattly, clattery tack, she was startled and skittered off to join the other horses.

I walked across the field, hung the saddle on the gate, and went into the kitchen to cut up carrots. I'd decided only to do something with the saddle if someone showed an interest. I looked up from chopping carrots and through the window I saw Bridget, having crossed the field and knocked the saddle off the gate, pawing at it as it lay on the ground. I stuffed the carrots into my pocket and scurried out to join her before the saddle met an untimely doom.

Having ascertained that Bridget was in fact interested in the saddle today, I resorted to the un-pc step of tying her to the fence. It would be nice to tack up at liberty, but lacking a smaller space like a picadero or round pen, it's easier to tie her up, and if she's already signaled her interest, I reckon it's ok. As time goes by, I feel less conflicted about stuff like this, as I become clearer in my mind that my intention is not to force her into the venture, but to use tying (or whatever) as a convenience. If she says, "No," I can, after all, untie her.

Anyway, she was quite fine with the saddle going on. I gave her treats liberally. It's amazing to me how quickly they catch on about not grabbing treats if you just use your words (or your clear intention) and tell them. It only took a couple of tries before Bridget learned to quiet herself when a treat appeared and wait until I gave it to her. We wandered down the drive, stirrups flapping, and she grazed a bit. Then my daughter called, needing to be picked up. For fun, we charged full-tilt back up the drive, with me whooping my best rebel yell as we ran, and Bridget keeping stride enthusiastically, moderating her pace to suit my elderly, bipedal version of a mad dash.

I took the saddle off. Bridget was not happy about this. She walked over to where the saddle was laying next to the kitchen steps and pawed at it. Here she is saying, "What do you mean we're done? We only just got started."

Today, while she was waiting for me to come to the field, Bridget thought maybe she could climb out over the gate. She put one foreleg on one of the bars of the gate and then put the other foreleg on the second highest bar. She stood there hindlegs on the ground, forelegs on the gate, obviously pondering her options. I think she must have recognized that there was no obvious way her hindlegs could follow along and further her prospects of egress. Or it could be that she was trying to use her "hands" to open the gate, as she sees me do. What a girl.

The other day she had another psychic episode. The always-rewarding Journal of Ravenseyrie has a new link to another interesting blog, Horses and Humans, which has a link to these cool Youtube videos by Eva Roematt. The horse in these videos performs a gesture where he sticks one or other of his forelegs horizontally out in front, and he also executes a bow, where he stretches both forelegs out in front of him, lowering his chest, and bowing his head down to the ground. Shortly after watching these videos, I was out in the field with Bridget, and - in quick succession - she did both of these moves. She's always very expressive with her forelegs, but she'd never so explicitly stuck them straight out in front before. More striking was her bow, which is not something she's done before. Sometimes it's a little freaky.

I know what all y'all are thinking.

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.

September

We've been having much-needed rain, along with unseasonably cool weather. But today looked like this:

So after church, and before taking the girls to the mall to look for Homecoming dresses, I took my coffee and a lawn chair into the field and plonked myself down under a tree.

Pretty soon I had company.

George and Rose didn't stay long, but Bridget wanted to hang out. Mostly she wanted to eat my chair. Having been dissuaded from that, she spent some time practicing putting her foot up onto my lap.

Chloe wanted to come over, but nobody would let her.

Then George made everybody go across to the other side of the field by the trees.

 I stayed put.

Yesterday, I came home in an antsy mood. I went in to the field with the brushes, and George came over to be groomed. Pretty soon, though, he nudged me over to the gate with his nose, so I put the halter and rope on, and we RAN down the drive and up the road. Whereupon I was completely out of breath. And moreover realized that I'd forgotten Chloe was out and that she'd followed us out onto the road. Retreat up the drive, jogging. Bridget and Rose galloped around the field and up and down the fence line, encouraged by the madly barking dogs who ran up and down in pursuit.

George and I ran around a bit more, then he grazed. After he was back, I took Bridget out and worked on asking her to move and stop. She is electric and is apt to react quite strongly to signals. I'm experimenting. She's very stolid about being climbed on and pushed and bumped, but if you come at her with a sharp intention, she responds sharply.

I'm thinking I really want to get riding.