Baby Steps

Well.  I have made a wee tiny bit of progress.  I don't react quite as much when something sudden or unexpected happens -  for example when Bridget spooks at the dog lurking in the underbrush. Reality has slowed down a smidge, allowing me time to see what's happening, and act appropriately, rather than going, as heretofore, "ARGHBLEAGRUGHBLUH!" So.  Over 40 years with horses, and I have only just learned not to go "ARGHBLEAGRUGHBLUH!" Better late than never.

Here's something Bridget and I are working on.  I don't bother about our mutual position when on the leadrope.  We saunter along, Bridget moving from one side of me to the other, sometimes taking the lead, sometimes not. But every now and then she takes it into her head to haul me off to some particularly choice patch of greenery. I take exception to being hauled. So, I am endeavouring to convey to her, by stopping and refusing to move, that hauling is not the solution.  I would like to be gently suggested to.  I think she's getting it. The key is to use my newly-learned technique of finding my own center (oh that just sounds so cliched) and refusing to be yanked about -- I convey this by means of mind vibes.  Oh yes, that's what I'm talking about.  And reciprocally, I realize that I mustn't haul or yank on her.  When I wish us to move, I convey extremely meaningful thoughts down the rope.  I pull with direction. She gets it.

My desire to move faster must have been timely, because today Bridget and I had quite a good trot.  She got ahead of me, but, hey, we were moving.  And Chloe!  Today, after Bridget had been turned out in the pasture, Chloe again hung back and led me off away from the barn for some Chloe time.  We had a brisk jog as we set off, and then another one on the way back to the barn. Before, if she would run while on the leadrope, she would forge way ahead, and I would have quite a hard time keeping up.  But today she kept me on a loose rope, about level with her shoulder.  She had a very intense look on her face - almost as if she were annoyed - but I think it was just that she was very focused on keeping an eye on my position.

George and my daughter joined

us on the grazing walk today

Sometimes Bridget is a little too intrepid

Catching the Wave

I find myself a little .... thwarted, perhaps.  I'd like some action, I'd like to do something, to move forward a little.

Thus I felt today, while out on our grazing walk.  I'd caught a surge of energy from Bridget as we left the barn, and the two of us trotted for a short while before settling down to graze. I'd hoped for more. There seems to be a limit to my ability to enjoy watching other people consume tender green shoots, no matter how beautiful the day or how lovely the eater. So I said, "Hey, Bridget - let's go do something."  Well, she was up for it, and we traversed the scary, dark tractor barn to the magical land beyond ....

where another burst of energy carried us forward at a run.  Then after scoping out some horses on the other side of a fence, it was time to eat some more.

When I look at videos of Hempfling or Resnick or Nevzorov working, their horses seem to be bubbling over with that energy which at the moment is so elusive in my relationship with our horses. Experiencing a release of that force today, rather than satisfying me, has made me hungry for more, has made me see that it is the raw material of any "work" that is to be done, and without it, it feels like we're doddering about like old ladies. (Which, ahem, in my case, is a little too close to home.)

When it was time to go back to the barn, Bridget did not approve of leaving Chloe in the candy store,

and although she followed me, after a few steps she reached over and nipped my arm.  I'm getting better at not reacting to stuff like that - I just said, "No" and kept going. Chloe realized we'd left without her and came cantering along after us.

Today the sky was very fine.

Transitions

When I was a lass, here's what they said about catching a horse in the field:  you should go up to it with the halter behind your back, and then when the horse is distracted, you slip the rope around its neck, and then put the halter on.

Nowadays I take a different approach.  I go up to the horse with the halter clearly visible and say:  "Hey, horse, here's a halter.  Whaddya think?"

No need to be duplicitous or sneaky.  It only makes the horse sneaky back.  The transition from not-wearing-the-halter to wearing it should be smooth, agreeable and mutually consensual.  When I show Bridget the halter, she always says, "Treats first!"  After treats, she says "Scratches next!"  And then she'll agree to wearing the halter so she can go for an expedition.

It should be the same with mounting I think.  The transition from being on the ground with the horse to being with it on its back should be seamless.  Without that awkward moment of "holding" the horse still, or hopping around, or arguing about positioning next to the mounting block.

I've been hearing a lot lately that a feeling of something being not quite right usually means something isn't quite right. The not-quite-right feeling I have about riding is not concerned with actually being on the horse but with the moment of mounting. It's a feeling that for that moment, you have to capture and control the horse.  Before that moment, there was a dialog; after that moment, the dialog resumes.  But during that moment, you have assumed unilateral control.

I think, too, the paraphernalia of riding gets in the way - the saddle with the potential to slip, the stirrups, the mounting block.  Somehow even the kicking and scrambling and grabbing of hair with my old pony was not as intrusive as all that man-made equipment.  I envy people like Hempfling who can lithely vault onto their horses.

I've owned two horses in my life who would let you climb on their backs while they were out at liberty in a field, both horses who didn't hesitate to let you know if something displeased them.  Not being very dainty or athletic, I used to haul myself up onto my first pony's back by grabbing handfuls of his winter coat on the far side of his back. (This was after knowing him for several years!) You didn't have to be diplomatic or sneaky - you could be up front. You had the feeling, standing beside him, that there was no barrier to climbing onto his back, that it was ok.

If I'm going to continue riding, I need to have that feeling.

I have faith that it will work out in the end.  The only way I can really keep up with my horse is to be on his back. I want to be there.  It may take a long time, the riding we do may not fit into any recognizable category, and I don't have a plan of how to achieve it - but I hope.

Too Darn Hot

Today at the barn, the atmosphere was different.  It was very muggy. The horses had been cooped up for hours during a tornado watch and were eager to get out and eat.  I took Chloe and Bridget for a grazing walk - they were very focused on eating, and Chloe didn't even notice when Bridget and I had gone back to the pasture.  She came to, and ran up to the fence whinnying until I reappeared and suggested she follow me back. George was off at the far end of his pasture, head down.

I think when I come to the barn, I'm often thinking about the last time I was there - perhaps thinking of trying to recreate the mood, or continue something we were doing.  It can take me a while to adjust to the new mood of the day.  Obviously the horses remember the past - an awareness manifested by fear or trust or anticipation - but they are always already slotted into the new day.

Here's the tractor barn.  I like images of portals.

A Quiet Morning at the Barn

Today I took George out for a little excursion.  We snooped around the barn and then wandered up the drive, grazing. Since I've given up trying to make him be respectful, he has become much more considerate. He acknowledges my presence to a greater extent, and I feel more relaxed and comfortable being with him.

I'm including a video of me feeding George treats.  He used to be over-eager about snatching treats from one's hand, as were a couple of other horses here. I've found the solution to be a) feed more treats, and b) ask him to move his mouth away from the treat-holding hand before I give it to him. Moving his mouth just a half an inch is enough - or even just having the thought of moving it. I'm feeding treats with one hand and holding my phone with the other, so it's very wobbly, but you can see at least one instance of him obviously moving his mouth away at around 14-17 seconds. I'll be able to dispense with this exercise pretty soon, I think.



Since I've been being nice to him, he's not that keen on rejoining his buddies. Here he is standing by the gate after I left to take Chloe and Bridget out--

After Chloe and Bridget's grazing walk, a thunderstorm was threatening, so the horses were all brought in.  I brought the mounting block into Chloe's stall and sat beside her while she dozed. Her door was open, and after a while she ventured out to graze beside the barn.  When it was time for her to come in, I walked out and called her name -- she turned around and came right back in to her stall.  I can't get over the transformation in this little horse.  But of course it's not really her that's changed - it's me.

Peaceful George

Dominance schmominance.  I've taken to giving George everything he asks for.

If he wants treats, he gets them.  He bangs on the gate - I open it.  When he nudges me with his head, I scratch it.

He still seems somewhat inarticulate, or reserved.  If I don't respond by complying when he makes his wishes known, how will he ever have the confidence to learn to speak his mind clearly?

Today when I was turning him out in the pasture, I fed him a pocketful of treats.  Then, rather than going off to join his buddies, he stayed with me, getting me to scratch his neck and chest.  After a while, he tucked me into a cozy corner by his shoulder and became very relaxed.  Standing there, I felt so peaceful, a feeling I have up til now never experienced in the context of George.

Standing inside George's space

I know there's a place for dominance.  One day I'll figure it out.  But for now, the way to George's heart (which is, after all, the part of George I'm interested in) is by another route.

Back in the Saddle Again

Today I did a peculiar thing.  I went for a ride.

The thing is, my daughter likes to go for a trail ride with George and, understandably, doesn't want to go alone.  She used to ride around the farm on Kelsey, just the two of them.  But Kelsey was a grand old lady, who would always take care of things, while George, on the other hand, needs to be taken care of.  He's pretty laid back, but he's inexperienced, and you never know.

I'm not even going into whether or not my daughter and George ought to be riding around the farm in the first place.  As I said before, I'm leaving the two of them pretty much to their own devices.  However, today I decided to try and accompany them so they could get out of the arena and enjoy a change of scenery.  I say "try", because one never knows if Gus will agree to come along when you show up with a halter.  Today when I arrived, however, he was in his stall, which always bodes well for an affirmative answer to an invitation.

He readily accompanied me out of his stall and half way down the drive to the boarding barn.  Then things slowed down.  With Gus you never know if you've entered "Gus Time," which is a zone where time slows to a glacial pace, or if he just feels like hanging out and having some snacks. Whichever it was, I cajoled, wheedled, flattered and bribed; and as Gus is at heart a Really Good Guy, he came along.

Having ruled out bareback, not fancying much for my chances out in the wide world without a saddle if Gus jumped suddenly, I put his saddle on.  However, today was the day to break out the bitless bridle.

Up on Gus's back, the first thing we have to do is Eat (well, Gus does).  Then when he lifts his head up, I suggest forward locomotion.  Yes!  He agrees, and sets off into the sand area.  I can immediately tell that the bitless bridle is a big improvement.  When I first started riding him, he was very heavy on his forehand.  He has improved a great deal, but with this bridle, there was a palpable difference straight away.  I guess removing the discomfort, and the anticipation of even greater discomfort, produces a relaxation which translates into lightness.

A couple of Cloverleaf Maneuvers (interspersed with turns around the arena) later, Gus decides to leave the arena and find something to eat outside.  Fortunately my daughter and George are ready to hit the trail.  So off we go.

This is all new territory now.  I used to be In Charge - tactfully so, I hope, responsively so .... but now I'm trying to be democratic.  Of course, it's bit disingenuous because I'm not really going to let him go home.  So I guess you could say I kindasorta split the difference.  I'm giving in to Gus as much as possible, but still expecting him to come on the ride even if he changes his mind and wants to leave. (Of course George is ahead of us, and Gus isn't going to go off and leave him.)  Anyway, whenever he wants to stop, we stop.  I try to let him pick the pace. And with the bitless bridle, he's going rather nicely with minimal input from me. There was no moment when we directly disagreed.

A funny thing happened when we were almost home. We strayed into the edge of some luscious half-grown hay, bright green, about 12 inches tall.  I let Gus have a bite or two.

Then - and I hadn't asked him to do anything - he suddenly got annoyed and started walking backwards, as if in rebellion at being asked to walk forwards.  Which I hadn't asked.  He must have been having an internal battle between the Gus who thought we should keep going after George and the Gus who wanted to stay and eat delicious grass.  All I had to do was sit there while the struggle between Gus and his Conscience enacted itself, until he shrugged his shoulders, turned, and headed for home.

Later, after Gus and George were turned out again, I went to see Bridget and Chloe, feeling awfully guilty at having used up all my time without taking them out.  I gave them treats and scratched them a bit.  Bridget was ok, but Chloe I think is very mad at me.

My daughter's riding has improved so much in the months since she has had George.  Under her care and tutelage, he has made great strides too.  The challenge of working with a green horse has made her focused and conscious in a new way. It's ironic that this should happen at a time when I am ambivalent about the whole riding project.  I am not going to let my ambivalence cloud her achievement, however.  She deserves praise and encouragement, and I intend to give it. Just because I'm heading off in some weird new direction doesn't mean that she is required to be on the same track. Today, though, when George was showing a little reluctance to go through a narrow passage between some trees, I said, "Remember Janosch and Hempfling!  Don't insist on him going through - ask him to stay in position and wait for him to decide to go on his own!  It'll be a bonding experience!"  I don't believe her response was entirely gracious - but maybe she listened.

So, yeah, riding .... we'll see.