Green Slobber on My Shirt

The Mist

2012-01-23T09:43:00.002-06:00

My only conclusion is: Aliens stole his ever-lovin' mind and replaced it with mashed potatoes.

Seriously.

Gabe absolutely, completely and entirely lost it Sunday afternoon. Sure, it was quite foggy out, sure it was quiet and still and wet, maybe my dumb dog did decide that running mad circles around us and under us was a good idea and perhaps Chief was being a little stupid too, but that was no excuse for Gabe to behave the way he did.

This was his worst behavior ever and honestly, it scared me. Not because he threatened to throw me and run away, but because he was spinning in tight little circles, cantering sideways (I think we may have even cantered backwards a couple of times), blowing hard, tucking his chin to his chest and hopping, tossing his head and trying to rear and spin at every. little. sound. We didn't even make it halfway down the driveway when Chief (whom Kayleigh was riding bareback) spooked sideways, snorted and startled the crap out of Gabe, immediately putting him on an even higher level of stupid. I was more worried that we would slip and fall in the mud and occasional patch of ice or go sideways down a ravine than I was worried he'd run off with me. Running off I can handle, horse falling on me, I cannot. I got off, put him on the line and worked with him for a bit trying to get him to switch from reactive to thinking side of brain.

Failure. Massive. He was good and long gone, deep into his reactive, flighty brain and there was just not a whole lot I could do to get him back without risking a slip and fall. That's how awful he was. Because it wasn't just mud, it was a layer of mud over permafrost. Super super slick. Even the grass was slick. Ugh.

But I couldn't untack him and put him away after this awful, horrible, no good, extremely dangerous kind of behavior. So, into the arena we went with the idea to just work and work and work at the walk until I got his brain back. I wanted to avoid the arena in the first place (which is why we were heading down the driveway) because it was wet and I didn't want to destroy it. Fail.

The fog was heavy and dripping from the trees. It was misty, my face, helmet, saddle and horse soaked from it. The whiteness oozing around the trees and deep into the wood was heavily, eerily quiet. A still, deep kind of quiet that Stephen King writes about. I understand why he lost it, but that is no excuse, it's not even a good reason, period.

So we walked (kind of), flexed left and right (he got my toe popped in his nose a few times for biting), circled, halted, backed, more flexing, lots of stop and go. I flopped and flapped around on his back, I yelled into the woods so it would echo eerily back, I made him walk into the woods where he DIDN'T want to go ("Heart attacks are free. Give your horse one every day." - Clinton Anderson) and did everything he didn't want to do (at a walk-jig-wiggle) until he decided to just WALK. Whew. Who knew walking quietly was so damned HARD!?

Once I got the walk and he could stay at the walk without jigging, jogging, shimmying or scurrying, we trotted. And trotted. And trotted. I circled and circled and circled on a loose rein, keeping him moving forward until he sighed, dropped his head and licked his lips and I felt him really give in and relax. There is a big, muddy, icky circle in my arena now. Nice.

It only took 45 minutes to go from OH MY GOD I'M DYING!!! YOU'RE DYING! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!! over-reactive to relaxed and licking his lips quiet. Yeah. Only 45 minutes. Ha! I don't know what got into him, but it was completely unexpected and entirely out-of-character for both him and Chief. I do expect the occasional silly stupids from Gabe, I can handle the silly stupids and usually do so with a smile and a correction, but this was dangerous and scary, and I don't typically get scared easily in the saddle. If he behaved regularly like he behaved Sunday, I'd be worried about getting on him and he'd most likely find himself in a new home pretty quick.

Whew. Dumb horses.

Keepin' 'em healthy

2012-01-18T17:38:00.003-06:00

Apparently I spoke too soon about having unseasonably warm weather.

It got cold and dumped ice and snow on us. Fun! Thank goodness the water tank heaters are working. I can deal with just about any aspect of winter that comes with having horses, but breaking ice I absolutely ABHOR.

Actually, instead of getting cold and staying cold, Mother Nature has been at the roulette table again. A day before the ice and cold it was 60+ degrees out. It got so damn cold and windy and snowy Thursday and Friday I ended up calling the farrier and giving him the option to reschedule. I don't have a proper barn so standing out there in the wind and cold and snow makes farrier work absolutely miserable. He rescheduled and I am glad he did! I don't like standing out there any more than he does! Their hooves actually look really, really good at the moment and it won't hurt hurt them one bit to wait a couple of weeks. Calypso has a touch of thrush in her front feet, but she always seems to have a touch of thrush, no matter how often I treat it.

Monday this week it was again 60+ degrees. Then it rained and rained and thunderstormed and hailed and the wind gusted like no one's business. Think Midwestern spring weather.

That evening, it turned frigid and cold again.

Weather like this is a horse owner's nightmare.

Colic is always a worry when the weather won't settle into something stable for a while. The constant change from warm to cold to warm to cold wreaks havoc on our poor beasts. And there's not a whole lot you can do to prevent it but keep them as hydrated, moving and as full of hay as they want to be. That's why I absolutely love my tank heaters and will never go through a winter without them. I know that my horses always have unfrozen, slightly warm water to keep their finicky digestive tracts moving like they are supposed to. And the extra helps too, not only to keep them toasty warm even on the most frigid nights, but to keep something in those guts. I'm a HUGE advocate of feeding well-soaked beet pulp during the winter, too, anything to help get as much water into them as possible, especially when it's cold and I know they tend to decrease their water intake. I think the horses really enjoy their morning and evening meals of steaming beet pulp, especially when sometimes I'm feeling extra generous and hide a couple of peppermints in the mix. They dig in and slurp away!

On the bright side, I've already noticed the daylight sticking around a little bit longer every day and poor Gabe is already starting to shed out some of his winter coat. The shedding seems a bit early to me, but who am I to argue with his internal clock? And it means spring is getting closer and closer, always a welcome time of year.

I have big plans for the spring, not only for riding and trail riding trips, but also plans to make some fairly significant lay-out changes to the farm to make things more user and horse friendly and make a little more room for a friend's horse I expect to move to my place this spring. We're moving paddocks, moving and rebuilding run-in sheds, increasing the size of the arena and adding a few more trails through the woods with cross country-style jump options. Actually, I need to get busy on clearing trails now, when all the foliage is gone and it's easy to get through the underbrush when I can see where my paths are going!

NO! Not the toes!

2012-01-10T11:20:00.002-06:00

We have had an absolutely amazing last few weeks. Because winter around here has been decidedly NOT very winter-like, and I am so grateful! Not only will my electric/propane bill be extremely low, but I've been able to ride much more than what is usual for me this time of year.

Oh, sure, we did several weeks of the regular "mud battle," but that's expected. Not enjoyed, not by any stretch of the imagination, but certainly expected and we're getting better at dealing with it. Is there almost nothing more frustrating than spending 45 minutes to an hour of good, hard grooming to knock all the caked on mud off your horse only to turn him loose in the paddock and watch as he finds the muddiest, stickiest, grossest spot to roll in and make mincemeat of your elbow grease? And Gabe, he's not really gray any more, he's got this glorious pee-yellow tinge to his entire body. Thanks, mud! Love ya!

The ground work is going exceedingly well. We've had a few minor "blow ups" by the big man, but he settles back into the work quickly. It's almost like his little Thoroughbred brain misfires momentarily then resets as fast as it got off track. We spend our on the ground sessions sensitizing the heck out of him to respond to my every move/command, then the last five or so minutes desensitizing the heck out of him with the rope and whip. After each session, he gets to stand for a significant amount of time at the patience pole, something he has never been a big fan of doing. We're up to over an hour now, something I would have never thought possible just a few months ago. He stands so quietly, the wiggling is over, and he's figured out that relaxing, dropping his neck and cocking a back leg is a far more productive way to spend his time than fretting and worrying the entire time.

So, one quirk that has cropped up has come to light with the lateral flexion in the saddle. He does it beautifully on the ground, gives into the pressure and touches his nose to his belly and I release. But, when I ask for the same thing in the saddle, he gives to the pressure, swings his neck around, relaxes and BITES MY FREAKING FOOT! Last night he stole my crop, just reached a little further back and snatched it quick as can be from where I'd tucked it behind my boot! I don't want to punish him for flexing because he's doing what I've asked and doing it well, he's just added his own twist to it. If I toe him in the nose, I'm punishing him for flexing...so I'm at a loss.

All of the ground work is making our in saddle time so much more productive and so very enjoyable for both of us. Well, except for this past Saturday.

Saturday, the man threw an enormous fit. Kayleigh and I were out riding the fields and I asked him to trot. He trotted up nicely for about five steps then dropped that neck between his front legs and proceeded to buck and spin like a freaking rodeo bronc. Not kidding when I say that big guy is ATHLETIC! I stuck it, but it sure wasn't pretty nor graceful.

Oh, hell no. We are not going to play the bucking game. No way. I don't care how good he feels, bucking is not okay. So, I took advantage of those huge unplanted fields and worked his butt off, circles, serpentines, loops, leg yields, all at a good, strong working trot. And every time he gave even the slightest GLIMMER that he was going to act like a stupid teenager on crack, I asked him for even more and worked him a little harder. As soon as he relaxed into the work and gave me back his neck and face, I let him walk on a loose rein and get a breather. By the time we got back home he was once again a big lazy puppy dog.

He is definitely keeping me on my toes and keeping me honest, that's for sure! Gotta love the big guy.

Horse crazy

2011-12-07T13:46:00.003-06:00

When I look out at the muddy paddocks and mud-covered horses and slog around in that nasty, sucking mud to feed and break ice in troughs (my outdoor electrical hookup is on the fritz, grrrr), I wonder why the hell I continue to put myself through this every winter.

When nearly every other person in the world (sane, non-horse people) wakes up in the morning, they get ready for work, maybe have time for a hot cup of coffee and a quick read of the morning paper then off they go. I get up, make my horses their warm breakfast and go out into the cold and the mud and the ice and snow to take care of them before the sun even comes up. I get dressed twice in the morning: Once in my nasty barn clothes to feed, then again in my clean work clothes. Sometimes, I am jealous of those who board their horses, or those who don't have them at all. Especially on those extra cold, icy, windy, nasty mornings when I long for just another half an hour snuggled warm in my bed.

For three long cold months I'm lucky if I get to ride once a week. And that's only if the planets align and my world isn't a sucking bog of muddy nastiness. The cold I can dress for and ride in, the mud and ice are unforgiving. For three long, dark, cold months I worry about the hay. Will I run out? Do I have enough? Where can I get more? Will my checking account bear the burden of yet another load of hay? This year that stress is extra high because there is a hay shortage in our area. Everyone seems to have shipped their hay out of state to ranchers in states hit by drought. I look at my shrinking pile of hay and wonder why I continue to do this to myself every year. I look at my feed bill that grows every year and even more this year because I'm having to supplement hay with other sources of fiber (beet pulp and hay cubes). That stuff's not cheap, but it keeps my horses healthy and happy.

I wonder why I continue to do this when I have to go spend money I really don't have to repair a run-in shed so they'll have a warm, dry place to hide during the winter or buy a new water tank heater because the old one finally bit it.

It's usually at the times when I feel that I have gone completely over the edge into insanity for continuing to do this for a bunch of dumb animals that they somehow remind me why I do it. They remind me why I sacrifice for them, why we sometimes have to eat Ramen noodles and spaghetti or sandwiches so I can pay the farrier or buy the wormer or put another load of hay into the shed.

And they do it by just being who they are. Gabe does it when he nickers at me when I open the door spots me coming to the pasture. He does it when he follows me around just to keep tabs on what I'm doing and offer his sage advice when he doesn't think I'm fixing fence or repairing the run-in quite right. When Chief curls his neck up, flags his tail and pulls those knees high to prance around the pasture for no apparent reason, I am reminded. When I bury my nose in Gabe's neck and just breath him in or lean against Calypso to listen to her slurp up her breakfast while I think about the things weighing on me, I am reminded.

When I can spend an hour sitting outside to watch them graze quietly on a summer day or laugh at their early spring antics as they rip-snort and race around the fields, I am reminded.

Sure, life would be easier and my checking account significantly fatter if I didn't have them around. I might even be able to get away for an occasional weekend vacation if I didn't have to worry about finding someone (that I trust!) to take care of them.

But I know, even if things would be easier, I wouldn't be happier. There would be something integral and healing and necessary, missing in my life if I didn't have horses. They make my life so much better in so many big, and little, ways, and for that, I am beyond grateful.

Yeah, I'm a crazy horse lady.

And I'm okay with that.

Learning respect

2011-11-28T12:36:00.003-06:00

I have managed to put a fairly sizable dent in the big man's belief that he's the boss of me.

There is definitely something to be said about good, solid groundwork that keeps a horse moving and thinking and constantly responding that gets their little equine minds working good and hard. Not only did I require him to use his brain quickly and frequently, the poor guy worked up a sweat and I wasn't asking him to do anything terribly strenuous!

We did lots of yielding the haunches, changing direction, backing away from me, halting as soon as I asking and popping over 12" crossrails with quick changes of direction after each little jump. Lots and lots and lots of lip-licking as well as him having "two eyes" on me the entire time. It took a bit of work to get him responding correctly, but once he figured it out, he was asking how far? How fast? Which way? each and every time I asked him to move his feet somewhere else. And most of the time, I never touched him...just pointed to where I wanted him to go, moved his haunches with my eyes and body posture and moved him backwards by lifting my hands and "marching" my arms. I asked him things in rapid succession to keep his brain working, then gave him a chance to stand and just think about it afterwards.

Success!

After 20 minutes of groundwork I got on and worked exclusively on him yielding his neck without moving his feet. "Control the body and you control the feet." He's never really understood just giving me his head/neck without moving his feet, a la' Clinton Anderson. This weekend, he finally got it. Sure, we did lots and lots and lots of little circles with me only releasing his face the instant his feet stopped moving. He threw a few fits because he didn't understand at first, but once he got it, he GOT IT and relaxed while he yielded his head and neck. Yay! More success! So, he's begun to really understand the lateral suppleness, relaxation and yielding...we'll work on that a bit longer before I start introducing longitudinal suppleness, relaxation and yielding. Bit by bit, body part by body part, we're putting it all back together and fixing some of the holes that I've found.

I wish I could work with him every day, but this danged fall/winter lack of sunlight and abundance of mud makes that a big of a challenge. Not to mention working and going to school at night. Ugh. Big outdoor lights, even a floodlight or two, would make my riding/training life so much simpler.

Mr. Pushy Bites-A-Lot

2011-11-15T14:40:00.003-06:00

After spending most of Saturday clearing the woods for a new fence (and a new pasture!), we didn't have a whole lot of daylight left to get to the groundwork I wanted to do. But, in spite of the quickly darkening day, my daughter and I pulled out our horses and managed to get about 20 minutes of work in.

Kayleigh (my 10-year-old daughter) has never done any kind of ground work with the horses before. She used Calypso for this new adventure and was quite thrilled with how responsive Calypso was to her. She had her backing up with the twitch of her lead rope, moving her haunches and shoulders easily just by motioning towards her and stopping on a dime. That mare was following her at a respectful distance and had her ears and eyes stuck to her the entire time, watching her every move and waiting for the next task.

The need to explain to Kayleigh WHY we were doing the things we were doing with the horses on the ground really helped cement my need to really work with Gabe on those basic fundamentals.

Calypso, while a very bossy lead mare in the pasture, really likes to have a strong leader in her person and responds very quickly and very well to even a tiny kid like Kayleigh. Kayleigh was thrilled to death and was having a lot of fun working with the mare. She said she can't wait to do it again!

Gabe, on the other hand, is easily bossed and moved around the pasture by Chief and Calypso but pushes me and other people around more than he should. I notice it with other people and get on his case about it, but as with most things, I was the last to notice he was doing it to me, too.

I never really realized how pushy he had become with me until I got him on the ground and started trying to move him around. Backing up was pretty much nonexistent when I asked him for it. Funny, considering backing up while in the saddle is our biggest safety issue - he does it when he decides he doesn't want to do something I've asked and he's dangerous about it. Instead of backing when I asked, he came towards me and nipped me more than a few times. He got smacked and backed hard and fast for biting. He kept moving into my space and trying to push me around. I can only surmise that the biting and the moving into my space was his way of telling me HE was the boss, not ME.

Which is a great big fat no go.

He refused to move his haunches or his shoulders over when I asked. That big fart stood there with his feet planted and completely ignored me. Ugh. I had to go to the stick to get him to move even a tiny bit. Hugely frustrating.

This is a different horse than he was when I first worked with him on the ground when I brought him home as a three year old. At three he was much more willing to let me be the leader and moved where I wanted him to. Which is why I never imagined I'd have these issues now.

Now, he's not so willing to let me be the leader. Somewhere along the line I've failed him, in his eyes, as a proper leader and he's felt the need to take over the role. Probably because I've let him get away with coming into my space and being pushy for the past year.

Re-establishing my leadership in this relationship is now a top priority. I'm just so frustrated with myself for letting it get this out of control and not even REALIZING it had gone as far as it's gone. UGH.

And the conclusion is...

2011-11-10T20:01:00.003-06:00

I like to believe I'm a "thinking rider." I do a lot of thinking about the ride, the horse, the training, the problems, both in and out of the saddle. Sometimes, I believe I do think too hard about it and make some things more difficult than they need to be.

I've been rolling last weekend's fit-throwing by Gabe over and over in my head: Did I handle it right? How could I have handled it better? What was going through his head? Why? How can I get him over this with the least amount of battling with him? Would he have pulled this crap if he trusted me more? How can I build his trust? Am I a strong enough leader or do I need to work on being stronger so he has more confidence in me as a leader?

See how that works? I'm driving myself crazy!

But, I have come to a conclusion. When I start adding up all the little things he does from time to time I've determined there is a lack of respect and trust in my leadership by him of me. That's something I will have to remedy.

And that means I'll be going back to groundwork with him for a while. I haven't done any kind of groundwork or ground driving with him for about a year and it's been about six months since he started noticeably trusting my judgement less and less. So, it's time to brush back up, get his butt OUT of my space and get him moving his body and feet in the direction I want them to move when I want them to move, not when and where he thinks they should move.

The timing is actually just about perfect. We are entering that time of year when my ground becomes more bog than dirt and makes riding rather sloppy. But it's fine for ground work for the most part.

No, I'm not going to stop riding to concentrate on groundwork, but I am going to fit groundwork in for every single session. He still needs as many wet and icky saddle pads as I can possibly muster up!

I think it will make a difference. I HOPE it will make a difference.

We have issues

2011-11-07T09:32:00.003-06:00

Trail riding is definitely a training tattle-tale.

Just because your horse is as good as gold in the controlled environment of an arena does not necessarily mean your training is sticking and making the impression it should be.

Yes, Gabe has been absolutely wonderful in the arena, a nice, mostly-controlled environment where I can keep his attention mostly on me most of the time.

But take him out into a completely uncontrolled environment where anything can happen at any time and his attention often wanders from me and some pretty big training issues are revealed rather obviously.

A friend came over to go riding with me Sunday so all three horses got to go out. We were out for a couple of hours, the wind was HIGH, the air chilly, leaves flying all over the place and all the horses on high alert.

Gabe, for the most part, was pretty good. Aside from the cantering sideways issue (yeah, I don't know, it was weird) and absolutely refusing to respond to my lateral aids, he was fairly good. On high-alert and snorting at unknowns was the least of my worries with him. I can ride his silliness through without much problem and usually, I laugh at him just because he's being such a goof.

But two huge training issues revealed themselves and made me realize that perhaps, just maybe, I'm not expecting nor requiring enough of him. I admit, I let him get away with more than I probably should. ie, not making him give me the right response right away every time. I tend to make excuses for him and I need to quit that, right now.

The things I've let slide aren't obvious in the arena, but become glaring problems on the trail.

One big one is turning. Yes, a basic one, but a big one I didn't realize was quite the issue it is. Let's just say this horse is GREAT at yielding his neck, not so great at following through with the rest of his body when he doesn't really feel like it or isn't quite sure he wants to go where I want him to go. If he has decided he doesn't really want to go where I'm trying to get him to go, he'll turn his neck all day long in the direction I'm asking him to go but the body stays put. Ugh. Big time training issue that I'm going to have to really get fixed yesterday. No more excuses that he maybe doesn't quite understand what I'm asking, because he does, I know he does, he just decides he doesn't want to and that's NOT AN OPTION. Not on the trail. Not when going where I tell him to go RIGHT NOW is absolutely imperative in some situations.

Secondly is his forward. We have stop and back up perfected, actually, way more perfected than it needs to be because he's using both of them as ways to avoid doing what I've asked. Forward has become a huge issue. I fought with that horse for nearly 45 minutes to get him to even get close to a cow pasture filled with curious dairy cattle. Yes, the dairy cattle again. I'm tempted to borrow a small herd of dairy cattle and make him live in the same paddock as them for a few months. Passing those cows was an absolute disaster. I think at first the cows were the issue, so I let him stand and watch them for a few minutes and he seemed to be fine with them. The other horses didn't give a crap about the cows but Gabe didn't take their lead at all. It then became less about the cows and more about him deciding he was NOT going forward, period, end of story. It was backwards backwards backwards sideways sideways backwards circles backwards spinning more backwards, more sideways more stupid crap but NO FORWARD. UGH!!! I couldn't get him to take one little step forward for anything, and of course, I'd declined to bring the crop on this ride since I hadn't needed it in the arena for quite a while.

When I first brought him home forward was an issue then, too, but instead of going backwards, he went UP when he decided he didn't want to go forward. I fixed the up, he doesn't do that at all any more, but now when he has determined he doesn't want to do something, no matter what it is, he goes backwards, very quickly. It's hard to steer a horse going backwards, especially when that horse has decided he is NOT going forwards. And it's dangerous, very dangerous. I finally had to get off and force him forward and past the cows. He flipped his lid and I think I saw his brain slide right out of his head and smash on the ground. Even with me leading him and the other two horses marching along and sighing with boredom and I'm sure a bit of annoyance at him, he didn't want to go forward, so backwards and sideways he went, into a ditch and he lost his footing and fell. I'm glad I wasn't on him when he pulled that crap but I think it scared him straight. He got back up, the whites of his eyes showing and he marched forward when I led him on. No problem. We walked right past those cows without another problem. I wanted to take him back and forth by them a few more times, but my riding companions had already been plenty patient enough with us up to that point and I wasn't going to ask them to wait for our silly asses any longer.

I don't even want to talk about the absolute lack of his response to the lateral aids. I think I was just about ready to cry by the end of the ride because a simple trail ride had exposed all the basic training crap I need to put my nose to the grindstone on and quit accepting half-assed responses from him.

So, I'll be working on his forward response and expect an immediate and energetic forward response each and every time I ask as soon as I ask, no matter what. Until we get this down he no longer has the option of declining my request. Although it goes against everything I believe in training philosophy, I'm going to have to take away his voice until we get these very basic issues fixed. No more giving him second and third chances. The same thing for turning and lateral aids. No more second and third chances. He knows what I'm asking, it's time I start expecting and requiring him to respond when I ask, not when he feels like it.

Tell tails

2011-11-04T13:35:00.003-05:00

The kids are fuzzy, furry and quite full of themselves lately.

Fall has definitely rolled into our little corner of the world. Vividly changing leaves, browning pastures, a chill wind and horses acting like they are all hopped up on a wee bit too much espresso.

I love it. Fall is my most favorite time of year to ride: No bugs, no excessive sweat, wiggly, energized horses and the smell of fall just can't be matched.

My daughter asked me the other day if horses use their tails like dogs to express how they are feeling.

I had to think about it for a minute or so...do they? Can you tell if a horse is happy, sad, angry, excited or scared by the way they hold their tails? You can certainly tell if they are being bothered by bugs or cold, but other emotions?

My answer was a definite yes! Just that morning I'd paused for a while to watch my three goof balls tear around the pasture like a herd of wild beasts, tails flying. Gabe's tail is the most expressive of the three. When he's excited that tailed is held straight up high and curling over his rump, much like an Arab's. Calypso tends to lift hers a bit, but not anywhere near as exuberantly as Gabe lets his fly. And Chief's tail generally doesn't do a whole lot when he's galloping around, it just kind of follows him, but when he sees something or feels the need to snort at something "threatening," he arches his neck and that tail lifts pretty high.

When Gabe is mad at me - and yes, he does get mad at me - he expresses that through his eyes, his ears and his tail. I've never been a big fan of assigning human characteristics to my animals, but he definitely pouts when he thinks he's been done wrong or not treated the way his highness thinks he should have been treated - his tail just hangs there, all rejected and dejected looking. When he's being chased off by one of the other horses, that tail is tucked up pretty snugly against his butt.

So yeah, I would say that while they don't use their tails to express themselves quite as frequently as dogs so, horses do use them, too. All you have to do is watch. And what better way to spend a beautiful fall afternoon than watching your horses express themselves so delightfully?

Really?! REALLY?!

2011-10-25T12:13:00.003-05:00

Gabe is a dork. Sometimes he just gets things into his head and no matter how much convincing, enticing, cajoling or begging I do, he just doesn't want to do it.

He has decided the trailer is a Very Scary Place and one that he should avoid at all costs. Which involved trying to run me over in the process of getting away from the Very Scary Place.

Ugh. This is the third time he's been a moron about loading. This has never been an issue before, and I KNOW the goof knows how to get on and off a trailer. But he's decided he doesn't really want to.

Over the weekend we worked for about 45 mins. on just getting on nicely and standing there quietly. It took me a good half hour on the front end of the training just to get him to get CLOSE to the trailer without losing his ever-lovin' mind and flying backwards across the yard.

Lots and lots and lots of strongly encouraged forward circles when he decided to fly backwards. It took a bit, but he finally figured out that going forward is MUCH more comfortable than going backwards, and getting on the trailer is MUCH MUCH more comfortable than endless go-forward circles in the yard.

Then he'd get on and decide it was still a Very Bad Place to be and go flying off the trailer backwards, the whites of his eyes showing panic.

*sigh* and *double sigh*

Oh, this horse. He's one of the special ones. Window-licking, helmet-wearing kind of special.

He finally figured it out and I was able to get him on and off five times, all nice and quiet and no panicking involved. He stood on the trailer, even cocked a leg at one point and relaxed, licked his lips, half-lidded his eyes then backed off very slowly and very quietly when asked, but not before.

Went for a ride, had an EXCELLENT ride, then loaded him up one more time after the ride just to make sure his little Thoroughbred brain hadn't lost the lesson in the half an hour we were riding.

He didn't. The trailer didn't even get an Oh-my-God! ear flick...up he walked, quietly he stood, peppermints he gobbled and quietly he backed off again.

Success. It comes in little doses, but each little step forward is a HUGE accomplishment for ole Gabe. The goof.

Next step: Closing the rear gate.

Riding at dusk

2011-10-11T09:27:00.003-05:00

As the shorter days of fall and winter descend upon us I am trying to fit in as much riding time as is humanly possible. I love the weather this time of year, I just wish the daylight hours in the day would remain the same instead of shrinking!

All too soon it will be too dark to ride except on weekends. I was hoping to have a couple of lights up around my arena by this time, but that just hasn't happened. Hay is a priority and with it not exactly bursting from anyone's barn this year, it's a pricey priority and arena lights are on the back burner for the foreseeable future.

Kayleigh and I went for a ride last night and rode until the waning daylight made it impossible to see anything. She rode bareback and Chief was a champ.

I popped Gabe over a few small cross-rails before it became too dark to do it safely and he seemed to love it. His ears prick forward eagerly, his body compresses and his stride animates when I turn him towards the line and he realizes we are going to go over it, not around it. My goal this month: Get my jump standards and a couple of gates, brush boxes and coops built. I'm pretty sure I have enough extra lumber just laying around the property to build a few jumps without having to buy a thing. I'm excited to get an actual course up and I think he will be too.

I've been riding him in a running martingale for about a year because he had a nasty habit of tossing his head high enough to crack me in the face when he was up and feeling his oats. Last night, I didn't put it on. He tossed his head a couple of times and squealed in his girly way at the beginning of the ride, which is typical for him, then settled into the work with no major head tossing issues. Wonderful boy! I don't think I'll need to put it back on for arena work any more, galloping and full course jumping maybe, but I'll cross that bridge when we get there.

I have definitely noticed how all my hard work out of the saddle has affected my time in the saddle. I've lost 40 pounds and gained strength. I'm jogging about 3 miles 5-6 days a week and lifting weights. I don't have the six pack yet, right now I'm just pleased to be able to see a two pack! I feel wonderful and feel so solid, balanced and strong in the saddle. Gabe has definitely noticed too, not just the weight loss, but the ability to better balance and control my own body seems to give him confidence. Being in control of ME gives him the chance to balance himself and not have to worry about me throwing him off.

I have many more pounds and miles to go, but I'm on a roll and I don't intend on stopping any time soon. My goal? Not only feel good and confident in the saddle, but look damn good in a pair of white breeches! Ha! And find that six pack that's hidden under there somewhere.

Going somewhere? Not any time soon, apparently

2011-10-10T14:34:00.004-05:00

Oh, we have a problem. It's one of those fun problems all horse owners LOVE to deal with and figure out how to solve.

Gabe has decided he doesn't like to get on the horse trailer. Period. He has always jumped right up and I know he had plenty of trailering experience while he raced, so this decision of his boggles me.

Saturday one of my riding buddies came over to pick us up so we could haul to a park to ride. Gabe has not had an issue with her trailer in the past and really seems to like her mare.

But this time, he took one look at that trailer and one look at the cute palomino mare waiting for him inside and pretty much said "Nope. Not today. I've better things to do."

Gah. I don't have a whole lot of patience for horses I KNOW know how to load and then simply decide they don't want to today. He and I apparently can both be pretty stubborn in out decisions. I don't believe in beating them until they decide to get on, but I can get exasperated and all him ugly names and tell him how dumb he is.

It took 15 minutes to convince him to get on the trailer to haul out and all it took was me slowing down and giving him some time to think it over instead of continuously walking him back up to the trailer and trying to convince him to put his feet on it over and over and over again.

All he wanted to do was stand there and think about it for awhile. Bribery didn't hurt.

He got on, we went on a wonderful, beautiful, fall colors gorgeous trail ride in which he behaved brilliantly.

Until it was time to get BACK on the trailer.

Yeah. Nope.

It took us even longer this time. He'd get three feet on and stand there all stretched out reaching for the grain I had in my hand. And just stand there. And stand. Then take a calm step backward when he changed his mind about it. Grrrr....patience was wearing thin but I wasn't going to beat him onto the trailer. That solves nothing and make the next time even worse.

So we waiting. And we waited. And I cajoled and bribed and called him horrible names and threatened to leave him in the woods all alone without dinner or peppermints.

Eventually, he sighed, and stepped all the way on the trailer. I guess he'd had enough.

So, guess what I'll be working on as much as possible?

Yeah. That trailer loading thing. Seems someone needs a reminder seminar.

Momma, I got the itchies

2011-08-23T09:16:00.002-05:00

Gabe bit me on the leg this weekend.

Hard, right on the shin. And I reacted fast and popped him in the nose with my crop. How the heck did he get my shin, you may ask. Well, simple, actually. He reached his head around during our ride and bit me.

But I don't think he actually meant to bite me, I think he meant to bite himself. Strange? Maybe. We were out on a trail ride for about an hour, he was hot and sweaty and once he started getting sweaty he started reaching his head around to bite/itch his side right where the girth sits. It was really, really agitating him and was very distracting for him. I imagine it was driving him a little bit crazy which is why he got me instead of himself.

I don't know what is causing the itchiness, but I think I might have an idea. I use a fleece girth cover because his skin is so sensitive that if I don't the leather rubs him the wrong way and he hates it. I had JUST washed the fleece cover and for the first time ever used bleach on it. It was NASTY, it had to be done! Bleach is the only difference so I'm thinking his ultra-sensitive skin + freshly washed with bleach fleece cover + sweat = MISERABLE HORSE.

I'll be washing that cover again, without bleach this time and maybe even send it through the rinse cycle twice. Poor guy. It's got to be tough being such a sensitive guy!

Well, Chief is officially retired (semi-retired any way). We rode last night and Kayleigh got on Chief for the first time in over a month. He refused to trot and when he did trot he laid his ears flat back and bucked. He refused to step over a 12" jump and refused and refused and bucked until he was permitted to just slowly walk over it. He's NEVER bucked and never reacted like that to a request to trot or go over a small jump. I think he's really feeling that arthritis and it's time to retire him to just long, slow trail rides. No more trotting, no more jumping. Just slow, easy stuff to keep him moving. He does need to lose some weight and get more fit, and I told Kayleigh that will be her job, to get him fit with long, slow, easy rides because his joints will be much, much more comfortable if he uses them and is carrying less weight on them.

It sucks when your horses start to get old and creaky. Chief is 25 now, he'll be 26 in January. He deserves his retirement and has definitely earned it. I'll be keeping a close, close eye on him this winter. If the cold and the ice and the mud prove to be too much for him and he's in pain we can't control with Bute, we may have to make a tough, tough decision that I don't even want to have to think about.

Sometimes...

2011-08-22T10:23:00.004-05:00

I have to remind myself that although the sweltering, icky, yucky, horrible hot SUCKS....

The alternative is worse:

Because while hot is hot is hot, cold is just MISERABLE and a whole lot more work to deal with. Cold toes, cold nose, frozen horses, frozen mud holes, ice, more ice, snow...brrrrr....

Nope. I'm not ready for winter yet. I know I should be getting ready and get that hay shed filled, but it's an admission that winter, yes, it's coming.

And it can take its own sweet time for all I care. Fall, on the other hand, I am ready for fall!

Dairy cattle eat horses with a butter knife

2011-08-17T09:50:00.005-05:00

I took Calypso "around the block" last night. Around the block in my neighborhood is just about a four mile trip. We walked, mostly. We did some standing and staring a bit too. By the time we returned home she was huffing and sweating.

Poor, fat, out-of-shape mare. Need to work on that.

She's always been pretty good going out by herself, a little squirrely sometimes but for the most part, very good. When she does get silly or spooky she doesn't worry me as much as Gabe does simply because she is spooky in a different way. While Gabe spins and tries to run away very fast from the scary thing, Calypso stands, stares, her eyes bug out of her head and she absolutely refuses to move forward. Which is much easier to deal with than a spinning, freaking out 16+ hh Thoroughbred!

Sometimes it's a hidden propane tank that gets her bugged-eyed. Other times it's just a piece of trash blowing in the wind.

Last night it was cows. And a Gator. At the same time. Oh, my!

To get where we were going we needed to walk between a pasture full of very curious dairy cattle and a Gator sitting on the road, idling. On the other side of the road near the Gator is a Big Scary Hole that has water falling into it. Calypso was pretty sure there were giant, slimy serpents in it waiting for her to become a tasty meal. Scary stuff on it's own, but add in the fact that the cattle had JUST been milked and were feeling their oats and being particularly curious about us and it's a horsey nightmare.

Visualize, if you will, a herd of black-and-white, full-grown cattle, running full bore straight towards you. Some of them were bucking, which I find hilarious. Dairy cattle are not athletic enough to perform a good PBR buck.

Calypso didn't find it nearly as hilarious as I did. So she stood, bugged eyed and trying to move as stealthily sideways as possible while avoiding the Gator and the Big Scary Hole With Slimy Serpents. As if moving slowly would take the attention off her and she could sneak away from the whole dang mess.

With some time, patience and much reassurance from me she finally decided it was safe enough to brave the cattle and the Gator and the Big Scary Hole With Slimy Serpents all at the same time and she was marvelous. The rest of the ride was pretty Speedy Gonzales-like as she was rushy-rushy being by herself, but I let her take the pace she felt like taking as long as she didn't break into a trot or suddenly refuse to go forward. It's been quite a while since she's been out on a long ride by herself and I decided just letting her figure out she wouldn't die while alone was good enough for this ride. About 3/4 of a mile of our ride is along a two-lane 55 mph road. Usually there isn't much traffic along that road and last night was no different. The trucks that did blow by us were pretty loud and she didn't flinch a single muscle or even twitch an ear, just kept Speedy Gonzales-ing it right along.

Such a good mare, but I definitely need to get her out on her own more often. She's quiet, but she needs to be dead quiet and damn near bomb-proof. And I need to get her more fit. Poor, fat mare. Bad owner to let her get fat!

The monsters are REAL!

2011-08-16T14:59:00.004-05:00

A pair of deer tried to murder me.

And Gabe was absolutely convinced they would succeed in killing both of us.

Have you ever heard deer running through a cornfield? They are LOUD and scary. Especially if you're a horse who is convinced the world would like to roast you on a skewer.

He was being fabulous during our ride (yay! I'm able to ride again! My heart is happy.), quiet and responsive and just GOOD. I think he was having fun and I was actually succeeding at keeping him busy enough to keep his brain working and engaged.

Then, during our cool-down on the buckle, I heard it. Something was crashing through the cornfield right next to the arena. I felt him tense. And beneath my leg I could actually feel his heart pick up and really start pounding hard. I grabbed mane (thank goodness I haven't pulled it yet, there's a LOT there) and prepared for the worst because I knew he was going to explode and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it while the crashing in the cornfield was going on.

Chief and Calypso didn't help matters much, either. They both heard it, and being free, decided to go ape-shit bananas in the paddock next to us.

Oh Boy.

I've never actually ridden a tornado, but I'm pretty sure what Gabe offered up for me to stick to last night came pretty close. No bucking, just spinning and darting, a little bit of rearing when I refused to let him run away quickly, and quite a bit of sideways scurrying, neck arching and snorting.

It only last a few seconds, maybe even a whole minute, but it felt like forever.

The deer finally finished their mad scramble through the corn and ended up coming out not too far from where we were riding. I don't think Gabe spotted them, if he had, he may have wet himself a little bit. I saw them though before they tore off up along the edge of the field away from us. Two of 'em, looked like a doe and an older fawn.

But what impressed me the most was how quickly he quieted after the cornfield crashing stopped. He didn't dump me and it was over as soon as it began. Four trips around the arena on a loose rein then out to hit the driveway and a few trails as a final cool down. He was good, looking at everything but not reacting, walking nicely and not prancing or snorting. His back felt soft and swaying and he dropped his neck, sighed deeply and marched forward.

Green, green and more green

2011-08-15T09:36:00.002-05:00

My pastures look fabulous. Fabulously fabulous, actually. Thick and green and...well, surprisingly nice considering the heat and lack of rain.

What IS that grass that the horses nor heat nor lack of water can seem to kill? Not orchardgrass, not brome, not fescue, not Bermuda nor Johnsongrass. Those I knew. And this was none of those.

I had no idea what this stuff greening up quickly and beautifully in my pastures was. The horses seemed pleased with it, but still, what was it?

So, I checked it out. Examined the leaves, the stem, the growth pattern, found a few stalks that had started seed heads.

Still no idea so a Googling I went.

And...the verdict?

It's crabgrass. All over the place the crabgrass is running rampant, defying the lack of water, thriving in the heat and standing up to horse hooves daily.

At first, I panicked. Oh. Crap. We've all heard that crabgrass is bad bad bad! GET RID OF IT! It's a horrible weed and no self-respecting homeowner would be caught dead with as much crabgrass as I have. I kind of like it, though. While the other grasses in my lawn are brown and crunchy and dormant, the crabgrass thrives and is a beautiful shade of green and when it's mowed, it's thick and springy and soft on bare feet.

Well, yes and no. I researched and researched and researched. Is it bad for my horses? Because honestly, I can't afford to have all my pastures tilled and replanted just to have the crabgrass move back in again.

I learned something fabulous! Apparently, only those living in subdivisions who desire a beautifully, perfectly manicured lawn hate it and go to great lengths to get rid of it. Farmers love it. Many plant it for their cattle as it's highly nutritious and a great producer. It's excellent for horses, too. It's a bit more fibrous than other grasses, which is actually GOOD for horse guts, so it's not something they'll choose over say, clover or brome, but it's not inedible or nasty, either. But the good thing is is it's a later season grass, so all my other grasses (the orchardgrass, brome, clover and fescue) come up early in the season and go dormant when it gets hot and dry. The crabgrass THRIVES in the heat.

Given it's tolerance of heat, drought and heavy traffic, I'll keep it and be grateful for it. The only downside is it's an annual so I have to let it grow up nice and tall and go to seed this fall so I'll have more this spring. I hate letting the grass get that tall, it's hard to mow later!

The boys are nuts

2011-08-12T10:18:00.003-05:00

I'm loving this cooler weather. LOVE IT! A whole lot unusual for early August 'round these parts, but I will NOT complain! When I wake up in the morning there's a slight chill to the air and I've had the AC off since early this week (my electric bill will thank me, I'm sure).

The horses seem to be perking back up with the chillier evenings and cool mornings. They were drag-ass exhausted and just absolutely beat during that month of 100+ temps. I've never seen three horses drag their hooves as much as my three did when the temps soared. Poor beasts.

I jumped on Calypso for a little "work the fat off your butt" exercise and she was spunkier than she has been all summer. We started out with her pulling on the bridle and READY TO GO! But she settled quickly into the work and even let me know a few times she wasn't terribly enthusiastic about an actual nose-to-the-grindstone workout. Trot? No thanks. I don't think I want to trot. I'll just walk a little faster. I didn't work her too hard, 15 total minutes of trotting and circles to work on her neck reining sensitivity and reaction time, then 20 minutes of walking the arena, halting, backing, lateral work and a cool-off walk down the driveway and along the corn field at dusk.

I forgot to shut the gate to the pasture to lock the boys in the paddock when I took her down the driveway and of course, as they usually do when I fail to contain them properly, the boys came rip-roaring screaming into the pasture after her, raising a ruckus, hauling ass around the pasture and acting like their tails were on fire. You'd think I was taking away their girlfriend or something. Oh. Wait. I was! HA!

Goof balls.

I was a bit worried that they'd get her all worked up and I'd have more than just a nice cool-down walk on my hands. But no, the mare was perfect. Head down, loose rein, walking nicely forward without even flicking her ears at the nincompoops in the pasture next to her. So pleased with her! Such a good girl.

Her feet were ouchy and gimpy on the driveway, but fine on the grass. That mare has the thinnest soles on the planet...damned QH inbreeding issues. Guess I need to pick up some Durasole and really work on toughening her soles up before winter rolls around again. I don't like to keep shoes on unless I absolutely have to, and as long as she's not on gravel/rock, she's fine. But the frozen ground hurts her feet too, and it's a double-edged sword. If I put shoes on her to protect her soles from the frozen ground she ends up spending the winter skating around her frozen paddock (there's usually a nice layer of ice over everything) on a pair of steel skates. So, Durasole it is. What a pain.

Nearly disastrous

2011-08-10T10:55:00.003-05:00

As I called Gabe in from the pasture and slipped the halter on, I realized I haven't ridden for over a month.

A long, long month of unbearable, debilitating and dangerous heat. A month of bugs so bad nothing seemed to work to keep them off my horses. After too much money and few discernible results, we finally did find something that has worked and is working well. And is far, far cheaper than the $20 bottles of horse-specific fly spray. A concentrate of 10% permethrin, made for all varieties of livestock: $8 a bottle. One bottle makes about 12 gallons and it WORKS! Not just for a few minutes, but for 2-3 days at a time. It stinks like crazy and probably isn't the gentlest stuff on their coats, but they are nearly 100% bug free all day and all night. It doesn't work very well on those fist-sized horse flies, but really, does anything but a flyswatter?

He was filthy. His greyish-silver coat streaked with dried sweat and brownish dirt came clean with significant elbow grease and about 45 minutes. I found dried blood in his tail which I can only surmise came from the crater-sized holes left in his hide by those nasty, horrible, good-for-nothing green and black horse flies. A pox on them.

He seemed happy to be messed with and stood relaxed while I scrubbed and flicked the dirt away. He is losing his summer coat already...how time flies.

The girth tightened one hole larger than a month ago and the running martingale seemed to fit his chest a bit more snugly. Seems Mr. Gabe has put on some weight despite the heat. I guess 12+ hours a day on thick, lush pasture will do that for ya!

Our ride very nearly ended in disaster before it began. Bad disaster.

Unknown to me, during the month-long hiatus from riding a swarm of wasps took up residence in my mounting block.

A BIG swarm.

I climbed onto the mounting block, pulled Gabe up near it so I could get on and noticed what I thought was about 6 big horse flies swarming his head. I swatted at them and suddenly realized they were NOT horse flies. They were wasps.

Just as this realization hit me about 20 more flew out from beneath the mounting block and swarmed me and Gabe in a buzzing, terrifying cloud. Have I mentioned that I tend to have a very bad reaction to bee and wasp stings? So, not only was I terrified my horse would get stung and freak the hell out and kill me in his freaking out process, I was terrified I'd get stung and have a reaction when no one was home and knew no one would be home any time in the foreseeable future. I briefly wondered how long it would be before someone found my body or figured out things weren't quite right at the ole homestead.

A moment of panic...do I mount and get the hell out of there and risk one or both of us getting stung or do I jump off the block and get the hell out of there and risk the same thing?

I chose the former, jumped on quickly and booted Gabe away from the block before I could even get my feet in the stirrups. Completely opposite of what I usually do and I think he was confused as I usually make him stand there for a couple of minutes before moving away. There is nothing more annoying and dangerous than a horse who won't stand still so the rider can climb aboard safely.

We escaped without either one of us getting stung but my heart was pounding and kicking him off the block so quickly (and rudely I'm afraid) had Gabe wound up for the rest of the ride. He was good, but ready to go and full of himself, especially near the Corner of Absolute Doom, Death and Destruction. It must have been particularly packed with horse-eating monsters last night because he wouldn't get near it and boot-scooted across the arena every time we came close to it.

Weirdo.

The girl child would rather "yee haw!" than "tally ho!"

2011-08-08T12:08:00.003-05:00

The girl-child has been in Northern California for the past three weeks visiting my mom, stepdad, and sister and cousin. She's been living it up, trail riding, hiking, camping, etc., etc.

And apparently, riding up and down the mountains on mom's trusty mare, Rock. In a western saddle. As a result, the child has informed me no more than four times now that she wants to ride western rather than English, because it's "easier." Which is kind of funny, actually, because we went to our county fair on Friday and watched pole bending and barrel racing and my significant other commented about how much he thought Kayleigh would kick ass riding Calypso at speed events.

She is a little daredevil, just like her mom, and Calypso would probably thrive as a speed event pony. And while I'm an English girl through and through, (western saddles make me feel trapped...there's far, far too much leather between me and my horse and all around me for my taste), and would really like it if she and I went to horse shows and the occasional fox hunt together, I suppose if my kiddo wants to ride western I'll do what I can to make that happen.

However, I have no western saddle for the child to use. I have a buttload of English saddles, and one teeny tiny little western saddle. But none that will fit her or her horse. Guess I need to start going to auctions again (which is always a bad idea for me! I come home with more than I really need) or perusing eBay and Craigslist to see what I can find for her. I guess that's what I get for selling off the only larger-sized western saddle I owned. Ugh! Oh well.

While we swelter...

2011-08-02T12:54:00.002-05:00

We've been under an excessive heat warning for almost a month, here, in the Midwest. Heat indexes between 105 and 115 many days. It's too damned miserable to do any kind of riding. My only goal for the past few weeks has been keeping the horses as cool and healthy as possible in this miserable crap. It hasn't been easy. Gabe will stand for hours in the sprinkler, but Chief and Calypso want nothing to do with it and prefer to stand in the sun practically panting and dripping sweat.

The only thing I can do is keep their water cool, hose them off and do as much as I can to keep the horrible, horrible bugs away.

In the meantime, my kid is waaay out west enjoying lots of California sunshine, (hot, but not humid. What a world of difference that makes!) mountains, trail riding and camping with her Nana, aunt and cousin!

See what the kid has been up to!

Gabe says...

2011-06-30T22:21:00.005-05:00

So I was out in the pasture with my buds, having a good ole time...

Rolling in the mud, swishing at flies, chomping on green grass. Then, mom came out and said it was time to go to work.

She called me a filthy pig! Can you believe it? I get a little mud on me and she calls me names. So mean. She brushed and brushed and brushed and got most of the mud off then said I looked like a ragamuffin, an unwanted street urchin. Humpf. So maybe I need a haircut. So what?

Then she broke out the dumb hat. She says it makes me looks handsome. I think it makes me look like a dork. Or an Arab. I can't decide which is worse. Plus it keeps those horrible, painful deer flies off me. I like that part.

But Calypso and Chief snicker from the paddock and taunt me: "Your momma dresses you funny!"
They are not nice.

I mean, come on, mom, purple fringe and BEADS? Really? I'm a BOY!

Sooo embarassed. I can't even tell you.

We went for a ride and mom said I was GREAT! I was too mortified by the hat to call any attention to myself so I just did as I was told. Figured she was using the purple bead hat as some sort of cruel and unusual punishment for that last time I jumped around, acted like a yearling and tried to put her butt on the ground.

Apparently she wasn't kidding when she called me a filthy pig. I got the bubble bath treatment and everything. My tail is white again. But baths? Really? They are for the birds. No thanks!

At least she didn't make me get a haircut.

This time.

The best thing about working hard and bubble baths? Mom always lets me munch on the good clover-y grass after she's done fussing over me. Don't tell anyone, but I kinda like it. The fussing part, that is. I always like grass. Always!

She says I'm too fat. I prefer to think of myself as comfortably plump. That grass is goooood stuff!

She even trusts me enough now that she lets me wander around the yard while she puts all our stuff away. I'm a good boy that way. Besides, the grass and clover is best here.

And I know she has at least one more peppermint waiting for me in her pocket.

Spins...sans saddle

2011-06-28T10:47:00.003-05:00

I'm a wee bit sore today.

Okay, maybe more than a wee bit. My inner thighs and my (ahem) girly bits are killin' me! I'll bet you're just dying to know why!

I rode Calypso bareback. Yes, yes I did. She was great, but she's bouncy and round like a barrel and damn, that spine, I swear it's constructed from a sheet of corrugated steel. OW! And to imagine I used to ride bareback all the time. Saddles were for wusses, bareback was where it was at. It was actually quite fun to be aboard bareback again, and apparently, judging from the soreness in my inner thighs, I need to do it more often.

Anyway, the mare was fabulous. Aside from the head-in-the-air thing that I'm slowly working on correcting, she was good. When she relaxes, slows the trot and rocks back just a tad onto her hindquarters, the head naturally comes down and the ride gets smoother. Little bit by little bit she's understanding that it IS more comfortable for her (and me!) to stretch that neck long and low and let her back relax so it's sproingy and rounded rather than horribly rigid and hollow. We'll get there, I'm in no hurry and forcing her into it isn't going to fix the overall "bad" way she carries herself at the trot.

She is so, so sensitive that sometimes she over-reacts when I ask for something from her. I was polishing up her neck reining response since I've been riding her with a direct (English) rein for several years.

Seems she didn't need much of a tune-up at all in that respect. I pressed the rein to her neck, nudged her with the outside leg and she sat back and practically did a 180. I'm pretty sure mane flew she turned so fast. Of course, being bareback and entirely unprepared for such a quick response I very nearly ended up on the ground, as it was, I ended up clinging to her side and grabbing mane! How very humiliating. I'm glad no one was watching.

Lesson learned...light touches with the rein for gentle, easy turns and NO leg, just a little seat. Of course, once I figured out how responsive she was feeling I played with it a little bit. But that's just me. Half-halt, outside leg nudge...SPINN!!!! WHEE! Half-halt, outside leg nudge...SPIIINNN!!!! WOOO HOOO!!! She's fun. And I didn't go sliding off the side when I was prepared for it. Hehehe! We spin in slo-mo at the moment as she isn't muscled and fit enough to do anything really fast, but we'll get there. Her lateral movement is right on, her halts are beautiful. She responds very, very well to voice commands, which is always a bonus. The louder you say "whoa!" the faster she stops.

I like to play when the horses have fun "buttons" on 'em. Chief's fun "button" is an almost piaffe. He's not perfect at it, but he can do it if asked nicely, and he can canter so, so slow there is very little forward movement. It's a ton of fun to ride.

Gabe doesn't have a fun "button" quite yet, but I'll figure one out. Maybe the Spanish Walk, just for the heck of it? I dunno yet. He already lifts those front legs pretty well if I tap the top fronts of them and he seems to have fun with it. It's a game to him. We'll start with it in hand, then, if he seems to enjoy it, maybe we'll try it in the saddle...later. We have the basics to perfect first.

1...2...3...4...5.......good boy!

2011-06-24T10:32:00.003-05:00

I'm always looking for new or different ways to train that are a little different than the methods I currently employ. I do a lot of reading and talking to trainers and friends about many, many different issues and I'm always willing to give a new way a try if I think it has merit.

The thing is, there is more than one way to train a horse, more than one method to get from point A to point B. Sometimes you have to go around the block a few times before you find the path that works best for your particular situation.

Not all horses learn the same way and a good trainer adjusts her methods to achieve the same outcome.

I've been having one heck of a time getting Gabe to understand lateral movement. He kinda gets it, but not really. Sometimes it clicks and he makes a wee effort to move sideways. Sort of. It's more like a snake trying to tie itself in a knot than actual correct lateral movement. Other times I just get his ears flicking back at me like he's asking "what the hell? Quit wiggling around up there," while he continues to march forward in a workmanlike effort.

Last night I tried something new with him and I admit I was not very convinced it would be successful.

Imagine my surprise, an utter delight, when it didn't take long at all for him to have his light bulb "AH HA! I GET IT!" moment.

I didn't change the way I ask. I didn't change what I expected from him.

I merely counted to ten.

Yup. I counted. That's it.

I'd ask for the movement, he'd give an effort in the correct direction and I'd halt him and count to ten, praise, walk on.

It only took four times in each direction of asking, counting, praising and walking on before he was practically flinging his body sideways CORRECTLY when I asked, every time.

Some horses just need that moment of reflection to connect the dots in their brains. Gabe appears to be one of those who needs some time for quiet reflection before they make the connection between what I'm asking and how to respond. And I'm perfectly okay with that. If he needs time to think about it, I'll give him the time he needs. The less confusion on his part, the happier he'll be and the more willingly he will give an honest effort to try new things.

We worked on the lateral movement for probably 20 minutes then I called it done and we moved on to canter departs on the correct lead. I'm pleased to say he was absolutely wonderful. We had a few silly moments of his typical head-tossing, squealing and trying to play, but other than that, I couldn't have planned a better ride.

We did a short trail ride to cool down, the wind was blowing through the knee-high corn, rattling it, and he didn't even flick an ear towards it. Last year, he blew up at the rattling corn and gave it the evil eye like he was waiting for it to devour him whole. Last night a small covey of quail flew up under his nose from the tall grass and they startled him but didn't cause a frenzied reaction like they would have last year. I think they startled me more than they bothered him.

My big baby is growing up. I'm so proud!

On beatings, bruises and blackwater blues

2011-06-20T10:36:00.004-05:00

Funny how sometimes it seems the world conspires against you when all you want to do is ride.

I didn't get to take Gabe out this weekend: Torrential downpours have most of the region under water and Gabe, unfortunately, was in no condition for any kind of riding.

Calypso went on a tear...again...and beat the holy hell out of him. She did this around this time last year too — gets him cornered and just lays into him without mercy. He was body sore, big time, cuts and abrasions on both sides of his body, bumps and contusions from neck to rump. I couldn't run my hand over him without him flinching. Everything got checked, cleaned and medicated and he spent the next couple of days on bute to alleviate some of the pain and inflammation.

That mare, while sweet and loveable to people, can be such a bitch to the geldings. She beats Chief up from time to time, but never as badly as she pounds on Gabe. I think it's probably because while Chief will take a bit of it, he does fight back when she crosses his line. Gabe does not, ever. Instead of raising a hoof to her he tries to get away. He does not like conflict, period, and is perfectly content with just staying out of her way to avoid her wrath, but when she corners him and he can't get away, she is heartless.

Again, as I did last year, I am considering separating the geldings from the mare during turnout and see how those two do together. Every time Chief lays into Gabe it seems that Calypso was the cause, one way or another...two boys fighting over a girl is basically what it amounts to. High school drama drama drama.

So, no riding Gabe this weekend. Some of the contusions were situated right where the saddle would be or where my legs would bump his sides.

Sunday rolls around and I thought, well, I'll just take Calypso out instead, apparently she needs a few soaking wet saddle pads any way. Nothing like a good workout for a solid attitude adjustment.

Again, torrential downpours over night which added to an already saturated and flooded region. It poured enough that my basement flooded and muddy water overflowed into the sparkling clean swimming pool. That's a lot of freaking rain. *sigh* Once again, no riding for me. The day was spent cleaning the basement then mowing the yard that had, in a week's time, grown at least 8 inches. Welcome to the jungle, baby! The hot, humid, wet, everything-is-molding or mildewed jungle. My poor, poor tack is growing green fuzz and I can't keep up with the growth rate! Is there anything out there that inhibits mold/mildew growth on leather? I can use some suggestions!

On the bright side the pastures are verdant and thick and absolutely beautiful...too bad the horses can't enjoy the lushness because the fields are FREAKING SWAMPS!!!! I'm thinking rice paddies might be a good investment.

Got guns?

2011-06-17T09:24:00.006-05:00

I rode Gabe last night and he was his wonderful self: No soreness and wonderfully forward, obedient and eager to please. What a pleasant, pleasant ride. We worked on spiraling in and spiraling out on a circle and he finally GETS IT! YAY! Of course, he goes stiffer tracking to the right than the left, but I expected that and worked him on it.

The people who own the land next door to mine were out doing some target shooting and making all kinds of noise walking through the woods, talking and shooting.

And it didn't phase him one bit. He was unusually focused on me for this ride which was a good thing.

The shooting doesn't phase any of the horses a bit. The shotgun or rifle can be fired near their pastures and none of them flinch. They just don't care.

Some of you may remember back in early spring when I was hem-hawing about whether to sell Calypso and my daughter said she wanted to ride her so I decided to keep the mare and give the kid the chance to ride her.

Well, she hasn't been riding much at all. The weather hasn't exactly been fabulous and I haven't been riding a whole lot either for the same reason. However, the times I have had the chance to ride and asked her to come along, she's declined about half the time.

So, Calypso needs a new job. She's young, she's dead quiet, she's level-headed, willing, obedient, brave and easily trainable. I've determined she'll just never make a very good English horse. She can jump, but not well, her gaits aren't the prettiest to watch, but she gets the job done. She has cutting QH breeding and you can really see that aspect of her athleticism come out when she's out in the pasture just playing around. That little mare can MOVE and when she's moves, she moves fast, low and powerfully with everything she has loaded into that back end and that front end free to do some serious maneuvering.

I really don't want to sell her. She's a nice, nice mare. No, not show quality, but a really level-headed horse that I can put anyone on and trust her.

When I started riding as a young'un I rode my pony Western. Well, I started riding her bareback because we didn't have a saddle right away. Then my first saddle was a western one and we did speed events, trail classes, pleasure classes and some showmanship. The speed events were a BLAST!

I've been tossing around in my head what I could do with this mare that would be fun, maybe a little different from what I usually do and right up her alley. I've been to a couple of Cowboy Mounted Shooting events in St. Louis and every time I've gone I've thought "WOW! That would be an absolute BLAST! Too bad I don't have a horse quiet and sane enough to do it." One of the bailiffs I used to work with at the courthouse did the competitions and he absolutely loved it, we talked about mounted shooting and horses and training them for mounted shooting every time we got the chance.

Okay, so maybe that's a lot more than a "little different" from what I usually do, but dangit, I want to try it and I will. If I hate it, I hate it, but at least I can say I tried.

I think Calypso would be a darn fine mounted shooting horse. Don't worry, I'm not going to run out and start shooting off her tomorrow or next week...I'm going to step back her training and take all the English aspects out of what I do with her. Tune up and fine tune her neck reining, work on that too fast trot and start some slow speed work around poles and barrels with her (slow speed work...that's an oxymoron!) to work on her handiness and responsiveness and build the necessary muscles. I guess I need to start visiting some tack auctions and find a decent western saddle. I'm going to take the bit out of her face and try her in a hackamore...she has always seemed happiest when I just ride her with a halter and rope anyway, she might do fabulous in a hackamore...we'll see. At this point, I'm game for just about anything with her, and as long as she's having fun, that's all that matters.

When I'm ready to start the mounted shooting part I'll find someone locally who does it (or tap the knowledge of my bailiff friend) to glean some advice/tips and help.

A little more about Cowboy Mounted Shooting. How fun does that look/sound? Tell me you're not intrigued!

Teen Me vs. Grown-up Responsible Me

2011-06-16T14:53:00.004-05:00

My kid is going to be gone for the next few weeks, of course, it's during a time when the mud is finally drying up and the weather is decent again. We have been planning for months to take Chief and Gabe out to a nearby horse campground/park/trails and spend an entire day and evening riding, grilling lunch and just having a good day.

This weekend would have been perfect except for one thing: She's going to be at her dad's. I still want to go and take advantage of this lovely weather but I have a conundrum: I'm a wee bit wary of taking Gabe to a brand new place out in the middle of nowhere alone.

The teenage horse fanatic in me says "Screw it! Just go and have a blast!" because that's the kind of fearless, care-free, give-a-damn rider I was in my teen years and early 20s.

However, the more mature, responsible me is saying "Well, I don't know if that's a very wise thing to do. It could be dangerous. What if you get dumped? What if he's horrible, ditches your ass and runs away? What if...what if...what if...?"

Ugh. I've had next-to-impossible luck with trying to arrange having friends go riding with me (horse friends). Everyone always seems to be busy on the best days to ride and don't want to go or can't go.

I just don't know what to do. Go? Stay? Ride at home instead? That big guy needs more miles under his girth, miles that are far away from home with all kinds of new views, new sounds, new surroundings.

I guess I'll just have to make that decision Saturday when I get up in the morning and see how brave/foolish/carefree I'm feeling.

Stand there and take it, you big chicken

2011-06-13T12:29:00.005-05:00

After last week's peacock incident with the Big Man I decided a bit of peacock de-sensitizing was in order.

Gabe was none to pleased with me at first. He was pretty darn sure I was the one who had lost my ever-loving mind when I forced him to stand nicely while Mr. 1,000 Eyes Horse-Eater was in full strut and screaming for his girlfriends less than 20 feet away.

At first I was horrible and terrible and wicked mean for making him stand and just watch that peacock get closer and closer. I was even more horrible when I encouraged him to take a few steps towards the peacock as Mr. Peacock has his back towards us and was strutting away. He jumped sideways, blew hard at him, showed him the whites of his eyes the tried to climb into my pocket.

I told him what a nut he is for being terrified of a stinkin' BIRD. A BIRD! He didn't believe me and tried to push me to the front so I'd be the first one devoured and he'd have time to haul ass away.

So we stood and watched the peacock strut around and scream and I fed Gabe treats every time he'd stand nicely without wiggle-worming around trying to make the mind-blowing experience as pleasant as possible. Of course, I talked to him and called him many names: Moron, Goof-ball, Chickenshit, Pansy, Nutcase, Half-Wit, Goober and Peabrain...all in my sweetest most comforting voice possible.

Half an hour or so later the peacock was No Big Thing any more. Gabe gave him a bit of an OH MY GOD! glance when the bird lowered his massive plumage and jumped up onto the fence fairly close to him, but he didn't move, just looked.

Progress! Yay!

I groomed him, tacked him and took him out for a ride. And the poor guy is SORE. Not dead limping lame, but sore enough that I just walked him around for about 15 mins., worked on leg yielding a bit and called it done. The only thing I can imagine that would have made him sore was his ill-conceived leap sideways over the fence. He may have pulled or twisted something just enough to be ouchie. I could find no heat, no swelling, I palpated and got no OUCH! reactions, so, who knows.

Two bute and call me in the morning. I'll give him a couple of days to rest up and see if he's still sore. If he is, guess there will be a vet bill in my future.

The personality differences and braveness levels in my horses constantly amuse me.

Calypso, that fiesty little mare, has no fear of the peacock. Actually, I think she's pretty fed up with that bird roosting on HER run-in and violating her sensitive ears with his high-pitched screams.

So, what's a good lead mare do?

Attack the peacock of course and run him off. She has gone after my chickens from time to time when she decides she's had enough of their food-stealing ways. She's kicked a couple of them. Last night she went after that peacock, neck snaked, ears flat, teeth bared and tried to stomp him. She chased him through two paddocks and wasn't happy until he was well out of her paddock and on his merry way. I'm not quite sure what she would have done if the peacock had turned around and popped that plumage on her. Run the other way most likely!

Grand Prix jumper he is not

2011-06-09T09:29:00.003-05:00

Imagine for a moment you are a prey animal and you know you are made of sweet, tasty meat. You are constantly surveying your surroundings, aware of anything that might consider you a filling meal. Your legs are made for running and your mind is quickly overtaken by the flight instinct when you feel threatened.

Your house is your refuge, your safe place, the place where you hang out and eat and chill.

One day a small, seemingly harmless monster moves in and decides to take up residence in your safety zone. You give the monster the hairy eyeball but decide it probably doesn't like your brand of sweet flesh so you move on and leave it be.

The next day something horrible happens — the seemingly harmless monster suddenly and without warning grows to five times it's normal size and sprouts thousands of eyes that stare hungrily at you. Then it starts screaming like a harpy, stamping and grunting around your house. You're pretty sure you see blood from previous hapless victims dripping from its gaping maw, perhaps you spot gobbets of rotting flesh stuck between it's razor-like talons.

Like any prey animal without a death wish you do what you must — You lose your everloving mind and freak the hell out in your mad dash attempt to escape the thousand hungry eyes and flesh ripping monster.

This morning Gabe was absolutely convinced the peacock, who has decided to hang out around Gabe's run-in, was going to devour him whole every time he puffed up into his full, glorious 5-foot plus plumage and started yelling for his girls.

I didn't realize how terrified he actually is of that peacock (only with the tail feathers up and fluffed) until he decided to try to escape from that bird by going over the paddock fence.

He didn't quite make it.

I'm a bit of a safety freak about my fencing, which is electric rope. When I moved to the farm it was all fenced in four strands of barbed wire which just would not do. I spent an entire summer tearing it all down and replacing it. I use the thick electric rope, not the skinny stuff because I determined the skinny stuff could be too dangerous for horses (who happen to be walking time bombs when it comes to mysterious injuries). I keep it all in good repair, have all the T-posts capped and check it regularly. One thing I really like about this type of fencing is that the insulators break at about 200 pounds of pressure, which is perfect. As soon as the insulators break, the fence sags harmlessly out of the way. I've never had a horse tangle up in the fence, the rope does not wrap very easily at all and really, they'd have to try pretty hard to get tangled in it. I like it very much and wouldn't change to anything else even if I had an endless checking account.

Gabe took down the top rope because he tried to jump the damn thing sideways instead of straight on. I have a feeling he would have cleared it if he'd come at it straight on.

He hit that top strand and the insulators popped free, the fence sagged and away he went, tail flagging, sweat dripping, the whites of his eyes showing and fear quivering his whole body.

But, all is good, he injured nothing more than his pride but he's still convinced the peacock is going to have him for lunch. Silly boy.

Mother Nature is menopausal...we're having a hot flash

2011-06-08T13:04:00.006-05:00

From fall-like temperatures to heat-warning highs in less than a week. Ahh, Mother Nature, I have a bone to pick with you. Why did you keep spring away from us this year? We've been sweltering in 100-degree heat indexes since Saturday with very little relief and quite frankly, I'm over it. The humidity is insane and the wind nearly non-existent so all the horses can do is stand around and sweat. And sweat. And sweat. Poor babies.

There isn't a whole lot I can do to make them more comfortable in this heat. When they come in sweaty and hot at night I try to hose them off and re-apply the fly spray. At this point, fly spray is probably the best thing I can do for them. The less they have to worry about, flick and stomp biting bugs the more comfortable they are in the heat. I have mixed feelings about the hosings...sometimes I think they get some relief, other times I get the feeling it makes them feel stickier and hotter, especially in this humidity.

If I had actual stalls I could lock them in during the day instead of just open run-in sheds, I'd keep them in all day and turn fans on them then turn them out during the cooler (and buggier!) night hours.

But, I don't, so I do what I can. I have three pastures that I rotate them through every few weeks. Two pastures have woods, the third does not. I use the third during the early spring and late fall when the heat isn't so bad that they need the trees for shade. It takes some planning to be sure the other two pastures can support grazing during the hottest part of the season without stressing the grass. I probably rotate and mow more often than absolutely necessary, but, I tell you what, my pastures, they are GORGEOUS and chock full of yummy, thick, green grasses.

When it stays hot like this for days on end I like to make sure they have fairly cool water to drink. The water in the tanks tends to become hot and nasty fast under this unforgiving sun. I can't imagine that being very refreshing at all! So, I dump about half the tank and refill it so they can at least have cool drinks in the evening. Salt is essential when they are sweating constantly so salt/mineral blocks are checked daily. When it stays hot, hot, hot I add electrolytes to their evening feed and mix it with a cool mash of beet pulp to encourage consumption. Some horse owners like to add it to water, but I don't. Mine are just picky enough about their water that I don't want to risk them not drinking enough because they don't like the electrolytes. Missing an evening meal because of the electrolytes won't hurt them, not drinking will. None of my horses will suffer from missing a meal, that's for sure!

Obviously, when the heat warning goes on for days I don't ride. I could, but really, why? I'd be hot and miserable and my horse would be hot and miserable. I do hose them or groom them, but no riding for me when the heat indexes hit 100 degrees. I have tried to get up before the sun to beat the heat, but so far, that plan has not yet come to fruition. I'm far too fond of the snooze button for that to happen. But it will, some time...I hope. Soon...maybe. When I was younger these days would be spent on the horses in the creek or river, diving from their backs, just hanging out with friends and all of us staying nice and cool.

What do you do to keep your horses comfortable and healthy when the heat becomes unbearable?

Early morning visitors

2011-06-07T09:17:00.004-05:00

We had a visitor on the farm this morning...the gorgeous guy came visiting with his two girlfriends.

He even raised that plumage to show off for a bit.

The horses, while appropriately impressed with his dance and that gigantic tail, got riled up and I'm sure they just knew he was a horse eating monster. All three of them were flagging tails, snorting and prancing around the pasture, but they sure were interested in him.

As long as he kept his distance, of course.

1,100 pounds of beast, tamed

2011-06-03T14:32:00.003-05:00

I think Gabe missed me. I really do. Life has been so very hectic lately that just about the only time I've had to see him is during feeding time and their nightly fly-spraying. Wednesday he was kind of moping around a bit and I kept a closer than usual eye on him thinking maybe he was trying to colic on me.

Thursday he was a little more chipper, but just not his normal perky self. But as soon as he saw me heading out to the pasture with the halter, the ears pricked up and he came trotting hard and strong towards me, neck arched, tail high and draped over his rump like a crazy Arab.

He pushed his head into my chest and asked for scratches and I complied. I picked handful of ticks off his face and scratched deep into his ears (his favorite spot) and he groaned and lost his balance more than once. I think his eyes rolled so far back in his head he saw his brain. The ticks are HORRIBLE this year. I've never picked ticks off my horses before, but this year, I'm pulling at least 10 each off faces during the nightly fly-spray down. It's disgusting.

Gabe has never been very patient when it comes to just standing still for grooming or waiting or anything. Last night, he stood like a rock while I groomed and tacked. He walked without flinching over a tarp (pool cover) tossed on the ground and walked quietly past the new chicken run without giving it the stink eye.

He was on his very best behavior, I don't know if it was because he missed our time together or he just didn't want to put forth the effort to be a turd.

The ride can only be described in one word: Incredible.

The last time I rode we worked on his response to my cues to trot and canter. He's sticky off the cues and often dribbles down to Western pleasure horse paces if I don't keep on him. A lot of the last lesson stuck and I only had to remind him a couple of times to keep going at the pace I set.

Our canters were wonderful....springy, forward, fluid and he carried himself rounded, which is so delightful to ride. I could ride that canter all day long.

It was so very nice to be in the saddle again, I truly missed it and could tell by my deteriorating attitude towards the world that I needed my horse time.

I got it, and life once again is fabulous!

The first rides

2011-06-02T11:19:00.002-05:00

One of my favorite things to do (other than riding, of course) is to give beginner rider lessons. I've never done it as a major source of income but the time I did spend giving lessons regularly I loved it. I prefer teaching the young kids, the ones who are just learning and are so very excited to just be on a horse. I get to form the basics, the building blocks and the confidence that they will build on for the rest of their riding lives.

I've recently been giving occasional lessons to a friend's five-year-old daughter and it is so much fun. I'm remembering how much fun I had teaching a small group of kids (all under 10) weekly and I'm kind of missing it a bit.

She is riding Chief (the Saint) and she has been just thrilled to death with the half hour or so of horse time. She doesn't care if we just walk around, walk over cavaletti or stand there talking about horses and riding. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I absolutely love seeing the light bulbs go off in her head when she figures out something new then works to master one task at a time. I'm a huge proponent of making games out of the lessons at this age and not just teaching riding, but horse care, grooming, tacking, safety, handling, parts of the horse and care of equipment. With the heat of summer fast upon us, our next lesson may be in horse bathing.

At this age everything about the horses should be fun, not a tedious chore that must be done, and she sure is having fun and building confidence as we go. She's still on the lead line at this point but I think in the next lesson or two I'll let her take control and see how that goes. It's the first time off the line that is the most thrilling and telling: Will she take to her new leadership role with confidence or will she be timid and let him do what he wants? It's that first time off the line that often gives a pretty clear picture about what a rider will most likely be like as she grows and learns: A leader? A follower? Confident or timid?

When my daughter first went off the line I knew immediately what kind of person and rider she'd be and she has so far fulfilled every expectation I formed during that first lead-free ride: She's a leader who tends to be very confident, a daredevil willing to try anything once, but a compassionate and caring rider who won't ask more from her horse than she thinks he can do.

Tonight I hope to ride Gabe...between the rain and trying to keep up with school, work and farmwork, my riding has been getting pushed to the back burner. It's been nearly a month since I last rode, and that just won't do. Not at all.

Where's the hay?

2011-05-16T13:30:00.003-05:00

For the past month or so every time I thought I'd sit down and write a post I'd think: What should I write about today?

And the only answer I ever was able to come up with was rain and mud. And those posts, quite honestly, have been getting rather old and tedious. I'm tired of rain. I'm tired of mud and I'm tired of complaining about the rain and mud.

I'm ready for summer to truly be here and these torrential downpours and weeks and weeks and weeks of nonstop storms and rain to just slow down. Not stop, mind you, my pastures depend on the rain, but at least slow down enough so the mud pits have a chance to dry out a bit.

I have run into a problem I didn't anticipate. Going into winter I had plenty of hay to get me through to the first cutting of the season and I timed the number of bales with my ability to turn the horses out on pasture full time.

I didn't anticipate the massive, nonstop rain we've had. All the hay producers/sellers I know have empty barns and no one has been able to get out to bale. I haven't been able to turn the horses out much at all due to the swampy conditions of their pastures.

And I'm out of hay. I panicked. I made a gazillion calls and could find no hay. I found one hay producer who was contacting HIS clients trying to find hay to buy back so he could feed his cattle...he is in the same boat I am and I imagine there are more than a few of us.

I found some hay — two-year old rained-on craptacular hay/straw/weeds that is better suited as bedding than feed. I bought 10 bales just to give them something to keep them busy.

I haven't fed hay as an actual main staple in their diets for about a week now. Don't worry, I'm not starving my darlings, in all actuality they are probably consuming MORE calories now than when eating hay!

Beet pulp and hay/alfalfa cubes have been my lifesaver. Granted, I'm going through A LOT of it and it is more expensive than hay, but when in a pinch, you gotta do what you gotta do and they really don't seem to mind. They haven't been eating the craptacular hay, they pick at it, then pee on it and sometimes sleep on it. Guess they're telling me exactly what they think about that crap. The goats seem to like it though. Odd ducks they are.

Here's hoping, praying, begging, pleading for a good solid two weeks of dry, warm weather. I need to start re-stocking my hay shed and the horses sure would like to be back out on pasture ASAP! The grass is up to their bellies...nom nom nom!

Hit the books, find the bend

2011-04-07T11:06:00.002-05:00

Don't you love those "ah ha!" breakthrough rides? The ones where whatever issue has been eluding you is well on it's way to being solved in an exhilerating moment when angels sing and relief washes over you.

Relief, oh, sweet relief to realize that I'm NOT such a miserable rider that I can't help my horse figure out what I'm asking. It was getting to the point where I was starting to really struggle with whether or not we could fix this shoulder popping, neck snaking, hips swinging WAY out issue on circles, especially tracking right. Struggling with questions about whether I even belonged in the saddle any more if I couldn't figure out this simple problem.

So, I did what I usually do, I hit the books. "Dressage Questions Answered," by Charles de Kunffy is an invaluable tool to help figure out issues. I also read an article called "The Magic of the Outside Rein," that really helped shine some light on our issue. I know the "inside leg to outside rein" concept, and I've achieved what it's supposed to do a time or two on dressage schoolmasters, but I've never been able to get it to work like it's supposed to on a green horse. The article "The Magic of the Outside Rein," really broke it down into why it works and offered a bit more advice on how to use it in a way I'd never considered before. I used the method and like magic, Gabe responded! It was a relief, it was like finally finding the key that fit the lock after groping through hundreds of them.

The bit of advice that brought it home for me was to use the WHOLE rein, not just as connection to the bit. Oooh, new concept for me! So I did just that. I used the rein against his neck to not only "push" him over when I tapped with the inside leg, but to keep that shoulder from popping out and the neck from overbending in. If he started to pop the shoulder I aimed my outside hand towards my center and took a bit of a stronger hold on it and the shoulder popping ceased. Wonder of wonders, it DOES work! Yee haw! Is he perfectly bending around circles yet? No way, but we have unlocked that door and are well on our way.

The second thing we worked on was his sluggishness to respond to the leg. He's not lightning quick off a cue, which is something I've written about before. So yesterday, we worked on increasing the timing of his responsiveness with quick, repetitive walk/trot, trot/walk transitions on the circle (bending nicely too!) and I really expected him to trot with strong, forward energy as soon as I asked, not when he got around to feeling like doing so. The constant "on the ball" expectation that he was going to be asked to respond to do something else very shortly also had him rounding his back and coming forward with his hind. Very, very nice!

I had noticed that with Gabe I've adopted a "defensive seat" instead of a more following, relaxed light seat. I was constantly prepared for him to do something nutty and due to that, I was tense and always at the ready. A suggestion I picked up from the de Kunffy book was to ride by thinking about keeping my legs millimeters off his body to force me to relax and ride with my seat instead of a gripping leg.

Amazing how much he relaxes and swings his back when my tense body isn't inhibiting him.

Towards the end of our 45 minute ride he was responding so much quicker, was very relaxed (a couple of swinging, stretchy, chewy circles proved that) and a few times, at the end of our session, he would trot as soon as I thought about trotting and tensed my calf. Amazing how that works!

I can see plenty of more doors on this journey with Gabe, but I'm adding more keys to my dressage keychain that I'm sure will help me swing them open wide.

Lineage

2011-04-01T10:23:00.004-05:00

Gabe looks just like his daddy!

My big guy is one of the last foal crops from Runaway Groom, who was euthanized on June 8, 2007 at 28 years old. He stayed active in the breeding shed until February 2007 when his handlers noticed he was becoming more and more uncomfortable in his old age. When medication and therapy failed to keep him comfortable, he was put down.

What a handsome man he was. Aside from a less-refined head than Gabe's, they look nearly identical.

I've never been a huge fan of flea-bitten grays, but I have a feeling that's what Gabe will be. It's a good thing no good horse is a bad color. Check out the bone, the well-conformed, made-to-last build on this solid Canadian-bred stallion. This is a horse that was bred for strength and stamina, not at all resembling the narrow, wispy, wasp-waisted, delicate-looking Thoroughbreds that are being bred in the U.S. today. The horses bred to run but not bred to last.

I'm so glad Gabe got his old-style Thoroughbred conformation from the Canadian side of his line.

A video of Runaway Groom at his Lexington retirement home. It's almost like looking into the future of what Gabe might look like as he ages and gets whiter and whiter.

The little bay mare

2011-03-24T10:56:00.003-05:00

The girl child informed me last night that she does not want me to sell the mare.

"I want to ride her," I am informed. "I don't want you to sell her. She's so sweet and so good and I really like her."

Oh, dilemma, dilemma. I've been wanting to and trying to sell Calypso. I don't ride her enough to justify feeding her, and honestly, she's just not my "type." She's a good mare, don't get me wrong. She's a fabulous little quarter horse: Willing, able, quiet and good-tempered. I can put anyone on her and she is a gem. She can be a little quick at the beginning of a ride, not trotting or crazy, just fast-walking, but she settles down into a slower pace about 15 minutes into the ride, drops her head, relaxes and just goes along for whatever is asked.

She goes English, Western, trail rides, does some jumping, longes, has enviable ground manners, ground ties, comes when called, is an easy-keeper, is very surefooted on the trails and is one of those horses that does what is asked without question. You can aim her down a cliff and she'll ask "how fast?" not "How come?" Her conformation sucks: Very straight, upright shoulder and pasterns and she's built downhill rather than uphill. Her trot is like riding a pogo stick and impossible to sit without your teeth getting rattled out of your head. Her canter is quite nice, if you can keep her off her forehand.

I estimate Chief, at 25 years old now, has another good 4-5 years in him, if we can keep the arthritis in check and keep him comfortable. That's 4-5 years of non-strenuous work. He can't be jumped, due to not wanting to put any kind of additional stress on those arthritic joints, and we don't ask him to canter on any kind of circle, again, the arthritic joints. I made a promise to Chief that he'll be with me until he dies or until I have to have him put to sleep. He won't be sold, period.

Kayleigh has gotten to the point in her riding confidence that she wants to canter and jump and do all the crazy horse things I did at her age. She can do that on Calypso...she can't do a lot of that on Chief. Calypso is 10, so she has another good 15 years, barring any major injuries or accidents.

One of the reasons I've been trying to sell Calypso is because she's basically been just another mouth to feed: Useless to me beyond a pasture pony. I know, that sounds terrible, but when you're on a limited budget, another "useless" mouth to feed isn't an option. I've been feeding her for this long, so keeping her really doesn't add to the feed/upkeep/vet/farrier expenses, it just maintains them. I was looking to decrease those expenses. But if Kayleigh is willing and able to ride her (often, not just once or twice a month!) then I'll keep her around for as long as she is useful in that respect.

So, I told the kid she gets this summer to show me that she'll ride Calypso regularly, that she CAN ride Calypso, and that she enjoys riding the little bay mare. All while making sure she keeps giving plenty of attention to Chief. Kayleigh is Chief's kid, and I worry he'll be heartbroken if he gets dumped and ignored for the mare.

If not, she'll go back on the market.

Classical wisdom

2011-03-23T14:50:00.003-05:00

I've been trying to catch up on my blog reading and I'm currently reading through several posts by Calm, Forward, Straight about classical dressage and the current popular (and very wrong, in my opinion) method of riding a horse consistently behind the vertical. This post (which is a reposting of a series of articles from the Dressage and CT magazine no longer in publication), struck me as particularly relevant for me right now.

Face Behind the Vertical
A "modern" deviation from the classical ideal.
Part Three

by Erik V. Herbermann

Modern trainers claim that horses "give" better in their backs when they are ridden behind the vertical. But as we have seen earlier form Fillis and Baucher, the only advantage to this way of working is that the horse cannot as easily resist the rider. Now, our instant gut reaction might be that this is exactly what we want, but for true horsemanship, this is only "Fool's Gold," because where poor riding makes the horse unable to resist, good riding strives to give the horse no reason to resist.

Not only does the artificial "face behind the vertical" way of ridding the horse of its ability to resist not lead to a true state of "lack of resistance" (which can only originate from honest, forward-going work), but it actually blocks off the very avenue though which such correct influences might come into play at all. This blockage occurs on both the psychological and physical planes.

Psychologically: if we rob the horse of its "say" by shutting off its ability to resist, we inevitably also shut off its willingness to contribute, and with that evaporates the potential for achieving the "playful ease and beauty" of the performances. Those coveted fruits of riding, which can only unfold from an honest, trusting, and harmonious partnership have thus been forfeited. The dialogue has ceased. Only the rider's willful monologue remains.

Physically and technically: by riding the horse behind the vertical, with curled-up "empty" necks, we rob them of the proper use of the major locomotive muscles in their backs, which are anchored in the neck. The hind legs are hindered from "jumping freely into the poll," which would ordinarily cause the horse to carry its head with the poll as the highest point. And since the energy is therefore not properly focused out of the hindquarters and reaching forward to the bit, the horses are not honestly stretched in their spines. The connection between the hindquarter and the bit, which is indispensable to correct work, has not been solidly established. Instead of beiong supple and energetic, such a hindquarter is restricted and stiff and cannot develop the appropriate carrying and thrusting energy that leads to correct balance.

The correct balance in the horse should be "held" by the perpendicular balance of the rider's spine, resting partially on the crotch and mainly on both seat bones. If, however, it is held with the hands, such as it often is when the horse is ridden with its face behind the vertical, either the horses barge like locomotives against the bit, up to which they have been forced, or they are artificially light in hand (behind the bit) and are not truly going forward. This is one of the central reasons for the artificial quality of the gaits we so often see.

For our horsemanship to be valid, its critical that we tirelessly strive to maintain the highest quality of the gaits. This is reflected in the absolute purity of the footfall, which is the medium ---the very lifeblood--- of good horsemanship. It is therefore imperative for us to understand the inseparable correlation between the head and neck position of the horse, how this position has been achieved, and the direct effects these elements have on the quality of the gaits.

In a well known book of ethical guidelines, the Master says, "By their fruits will you know them. Can people pick grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles?" We can rightfully draw an analogy and conclude that good work produces pure, beautiful gaits. Poor work produces warping and distortions. So judging by its unmistakable ruinous effects on the gaits, "face behind the vertical" should have no part in our horsemanship if we are at all sincere about following the classical way. "Face behind the vertical" is a tip-of-the-iceberg phenomenon in which the basic mathematics is wrong --- how can the equations built on it help but fail?

Throwing out the baby birds

2011-03-23T11:01:00.003-05:00

As much as I hate taking months off my riding due to snow and absolutely foul weather, in some cases, it can be a major advantage in the whole training scheme of things.

I had my second ride on Gabe last night after about a three month hiatus. With him it usually takes 2-3 rides to get his brain back on track and into "work" mode. He was surprisingly wonderful for both rides. Aside from a few "damn I'm feeling GOOD!" moments, he was responsive and eager. I might even venture to say he was happy to be back to work!

And I accidentally discovered something about him that may make moving forward in our training much easier.

I will admit right here (and you'll never hear me admit it again!), that getting back on a horse (especially one as big, powerful and unpredictable as Gabe) that has been out of work for months honestly scares the shit out of me. I get nervous, my stomach turns queasy and I imagine all kinds of things that could go terribly, terribly wrong. That log over there? Pretty sure I'll land on it and break my back. The fence post we're walking by? Although it's capped and we're 10 feet away from it, I'm darn certain my horse is going to spook, chuck me 10 feet through the air and I'll be impaled on it. The slight slope on the other side of the arena? Yup, I just know he's going to spook sideways and we'll trip and ass over ears down it and I'll be crushed irreparably beneath him. Irrational, yes, but that's the way my brain works. Once I get on and get moving, my brain calms down and my stomach settles about 15 minutes into the ride and I just laugh at myself for being such a crazy person.

Anyway...all this irrational crap was running through my head, and, as a result, I had a stronger than usual hold on the reins. Usually I like to handle the reins as if they were delicate, easily-broken threads, I prefer to have a light, soft, giving touch of my horse's mouth.

Something amazing happened.

Gabe seemed to ENJOY the stronger connection, even welcome it. I'm not talking about him leaning on the bit, he wasn't. He took the connection I gave him and he accepted it like a firm, friendly handshake. I'm not talking a death grip on the reins and I'm not talking about pulling back with bulging biceps. I'm simply saying he seemed to welcome a little more weight in my hands than what I've been giving him. He was responsive to the slightest finger wiggle, he gave and relaxed his jaw and poll when I "sponged" the reins and the white foam dripped wonderfully from his amazingly quiet mouth. I've mentioned before that he plays, plays, plays with the bit, sucking it up into his mouth, trying to chew on it, wiggling it, grinding his teeth, etc.

There was none of that, as long as I kept a firm connection with him. As soon as I dropped the reins to go on the buckle, he dropped his whole neck and dove for the bit as if he had dropped something and was trying to find it. His mouth went to work wiggling, wiggling, chewing, chewing, grinding, grinding at the bit. As soon as I took up a firmer connection, the playing stopped.

Is it a comfort thing for him? Does he just prefer "strong" leadership from me in the saddle? Is it a leftover habit from his racetrack days? I don't know, but I'm going to go with it. Eventually, I'd prefer NOT to have such a strong contact, I prefer the "baby bird in your hand" approach, but for now it works and I'll run with it for as long as he needs me to.

Off they go!

2011-03-17T09:34:00.003-05:00

It's St. Patrick's day and you know what that means? Spring is literally just around the corner! I have green grass poking its head through the mud and my daffodils are blooming. The horses are shedding like mad and Gabe is acting like he's been cooped up in a stall all winter. Even old man Chief has been feeling his oats, bucking and farting around like a yearling.

We still have massive amounts of mud. We had the wettest February in almost a century and my ground is definitely showing it. There's no where left for the water to go so it just sits on top of the saturated ground and turns everything into a smushy bog.

My daughter and I couldn't ride last night, although the weather was perfect for it, because of the mud, but we got the horses out and gave them a good grooming instead. I could make two new horses out of the hair I pulled off Gabe and Calypso! Chief is shedding a lot, too, and as usual, his white spots are shedding first and most.

We had a little minor emergency last night that made me so, so thankful horses are ruled by the tummies and tend to prefer being in each others company.

I had finished grooming Gabe and was letting him graze on the new grass in the yard while Kayleigh put Chief back into his paddock and caught Calypso so I could groom and worm her, too. Instead of hooking both electric ropes back up at Chief's gate (we have a gate that connects the two paddocks, it makes turnout easier during the summer), she just hooked the top rope. Well, Chief, being the sneaky little escape artist he is, took advantage of the situation and shot under the top rope of the gate into Gabe's paddock and straight out the open main gate into the yard. Of course, as he whipped by Gabe (my back was turned to the paddock while I let Gabe graze) he stirred up his blood. Gabe spun, lunged forward and took off after Chief, ripping the rope through my hands (ouch to torn flesh!) as he did so. I thought they were GONE! as they both tore up the bank next to the house and headed towards the driveway.

Suddenly, they both realized Calypso was not with them. Kayleigh had a nice snug hold on her and that mare is so well-mannered she just stood there, tail up and blowing with excitement, but not moving a single hoof to go after them because Kayleigh told her to whoa! Good girl, good girl. I tied her up and sent Kayleigh after a bucket of grain to entice the two bad boys back to us. I knew if I put Calypso back in the paddock she'd just rip around the paddock screaming at the boys and get them even more whipped up.

I shook the bucket, Gabe's ears came forward and he came right to me, like a bee to honey. What a good boy.

Chief is usually a pain in the ass to catch. Honestly, the only one who never has any problems catching him is Kayleigh. I can follow that jerk around the paddock for hours and he lets me get JUUUSSTTT close enough to touch him, then he turns and walks away. The faster I walk after him, the faster he walks. He never runs, he just stays right out of reach. I thought we were going to have a major issue with him, but Kayleigh took the bucket, shook the grain, put it on the ground and he took the bait. She flipped a rope over his neck, buckled on the halter and he never flinched or made a single move to get away.

My poor kid was shaking so bad! She thought her horse was gone for sure. And she kept apologizing for not hooking up the bottom rope...of course, I told her it wasn't her fault, neither one of us thought Chief would decide to make a Great Escape. We just know not to do that again. Lesson learned.

All ended well, everyone got wormed and brushed and we managed to inject a little bit of excitement into the evening.

Just dreamin'

2011-03-05T10:10:00.015-06:00

Sometimes I drive by the big Lotto sign and see that HUGE money number and start dreaming.

What would I do with a few million bucks? It's nice to dream, so that's what I'm going to do on this rainy, cold, icky day. Dream a little bit about spending money I don't have and will most likely never have (gotta play to win, right? I don't play.).

We're going to assume I paid off all my outstanding bills and the mortgage before I get to the play money.

First and foremost, a new truck:

And of course, a new trailer w/ kickass living quarters to go with the new truck:

Then, a new Marcel Toulouse Premia jumping saddle and Stubben Maestoso dressage saddle :

Lessons with Walter Zettl:

Ingrid Klimke:

Bruce Davidson:

and Pippa Funnell:

A lifetime membership to the Ft. Leavenworth Hunt and I'd set up a fund to make an annual trip to foxhunt in Ireland:

I'd also like a few more of these:

A couple of these:

And a few of these:

One of these for relaxing sore muscles after riding all my horses:

And finally, a climate-controlled cellar filled with these to go with relaxation sessions in my hottub:

What would you do with a couple million if you had it just lying around?

To shoe, or not to shoe?

2011-03-03T11:44:00.002-06:00

I have never had shoes on Gabe. I know he wore shoes at the track, but when he came to me, he was barefoot and has the most beautiful feet I think I've ever seen, especially for a Thoroughbred.

His hooves are big, well-shaped and hard as rocks. He is not tenderfooted and does very well barefoot.

Lately I've been thinking about whether I should have him shod this summer or not. A lot of the trails/roads I ride near my farm are gravel. He does get "ouchy" on the gravel, which I'm sure makes the ride not so much fun for him. Then, I think about the damage that shoeing does to an otherwise healthy, hard hoof. I'm not so willing to start doing that and possibly weaken his feet too much, plus, it's an added expense every six weeks that I just can't really justify right now, especially since it's not a necessary expense.

But I need to do something so we can go riding even on the rockiest roads. I've been bouncing the idea of hoof boots around in my head and done a little bit of research on different styles of boots, but can't figure out what I need to look for. I've heard stories about hoof boots just not lasting long enough to justify the cost, boots that won't stay on, boots that rub pasterns raw or allow sand/dirt/rocks down into them and rub/bruise the pastern/hoof.

I've never used hoof boots on my horses before, so I'm a newbie.

Any suggestions as far as style/brand I should be looking for? What should I absolutely avoid? We don't do slow trail rides as often as we do plenty of trotting, cantering and a wee bit of galloping during our rides. The last thing I need is a hoof boot flying off during a gallop and having it whack him in the belly or get tangled up in his legs.

woo hoo!

2011-03-02T14:34:00.001-06:00

WE HAVE SHEDDING!

Massive shedding. Lots of long winter hair just falling out in great drifts.

I am happy.

There is no sideways, only standing

2011-03-01T10:56:00.003-06:00

Sometimes when you sit in one position too long your foot or leg or hip goes to sleep and when it "wakes" up there is an incredible tingly, almost itchy feeling.

My legs, my arms, my hands, my seat are all tingly and itchy with this intense desire and need to be in the saddle. Gabe, of course, could really care less whether I ride or not, as long as I visit him every day with peppermints and plenty of good scratching.

Actually, that might not be entirely true. When I walk out to his paddock with halter in hand he's never walked away...he always comes to me, even after watching me get out all my riding gear and put it near the hitching post. I think he enjoys our rides as much as I do.

I have also come to the conclusion that there is a rather large hole in our training that I need to fix ASAP, a problem I CAN fix on the ground (in the mud, rather) while I'm waiting for my marshy swampland to dry suitably enough for riding.

Gabe doesn't get the "move away from pressure when I tap you" concept. Yesterday I was cleaning his run-in and of course he had to be right there, head hanging over my shoulder, grabbing the manure fork and trying to wrest it from my hands or stealing my coat from his feed tub so I'd have to chase him to retrieve it.

He started getting on my nerves because he just wouldn't move enough out of the way for me to chuck the scoopful of bedding and poo out of his shed without making some rather interesting contortions while lugging 200 pounds of poo and pee-soaked shavings.

I pushed him and told him over. Nothing.

I did it again, using two fingers stiff against his side and told him over. Nothing.

I poked him in the side with the butt end of the manure fork and told him "over."

No response. I did it again. Poke.

Still nothing. He turned his head and gave me that "have you lost your bloody mind?" look and relaxed a hip.

Crap.

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Steady. Repetitive, hopefully annoying enough to get some response from him.

Nothing.

Well, he flinched a bit with each poke and leaned into the end of the manure fork instead of away from the poking. I couldn't decide if he was being a stubborn oaf or truly not understanding what I was trying to communicate.

And I started thinking. When he's tied up I have a similar issue. He doesn't move over with a slight touch of my fingers, as he should. I have to put a shoulder into him and move him over.

This is not a good thing. This is a serious, serious oversight on my part. This lack of understanding to move away from pressure is going to put a serious crimp in any further training, and, it also explains why our leg yields, TOFs, and TOHs suck royally.

I felt like poking myself repeatedly with the manure fork to get it through MY head that I'm a great big dunce. Duh.

This is basic training stuff. How could I have overlooked it? I have a few ideas about how/why I overlooked this basic training concept, and most have to do with some other more serious issues I was dealing with such as the rearing and running backwards problem we had in the beginning as well as the spook, spin and gallop sideways for no apparent reason issue I had to deal with quick and in a hurry.

I guess we'll be taking a few great big steps backwards to fix the hole before we can start moving forwards again. Gabe is just smart enough that I don't think it will take too terribly long to get him where he should be so we can get back on track again. I need to also re-evaluate everything to be sure I haven't inadvertently left another hole somewhere along the line.

Good thing my mind kicked into gear now and made this realization before we got much further along, which could have made going backwards to fix it a more difficult issue.

He is...

2011-02-24T10:37:00.005-06:00

He is a great big dork sometimes. (Okay, most of the time.)
He is always a trouble-maker and the root cause of great mischief.
He is an eater of anything that doesn't eat him first. He's the horse you have to keep the pastures poisonous-plant free for. He will eat it, even if it tastes nasty.
He eats John Deere seats and gnaws on steering wheels.
He dribbles his meals down my arm every day. I own no barn coats without Gabe slobber and bits of grain stuck to the sleeve.
He steals tools and has been known to run off with drills. He does not make sinking a post into concrete perfectly perpendicular to the ground an easy task.
He is sneaky and wily, especially when he's playing face wars with Chief. Or when he thinks I'm not giving him enough attention.
He is certainly forgetful. Whether that is on purpose, in defiance or merely a result of his Thoroughbred brain, I don't know, but sometimes, halt and stand still is a complete mystery to him.
He is playful and curious.
He is wonderful and fun and gorgeous and the horse of a lifetime.
He is my buddy, my secret-keeper, my tear-absorber and my psychologist.
He makes me forget every worry in the world and laugh at the wind.

And it's good to know the trailer training he received as a racehorse stuck in his brain.

Because I now have one parked in my driveway and I'm more thrilled than I can ever fully express.

Oh, the places we will go!

A greater maturity (ahahahaha!!!)

2011-02-14T10:54:00.005-06:00

Gabe will be six on Thursday. Which technically means he should start growing a brain and not behave like a silly, naughty little juvenile quite so often.

One can always dream, right? I don't think he'll EVER grow out of that wonderfully curious, into everything, can I help?, nosy, playful personality and I'm glad for that.

SIX! Wow. I feel like we should be so much further along than we are. I had expected to have hunted him at least one season by now, maybe started popping over some 3' fences at the very least and become at least moderately consistent in our dressage work.

Nope. Seems that time gets away from me faster than I imagined it could.

But somehow, that's okay. We're rolling up quickly into regular riding season again and I'm going to (once again) attempt to keep some semblance of a riding/training journal. The last time I tried I managed to record my riding sessions a grand total of three times. It would be so helpful to know exactly how each ride went, what worked, what didn't and what we really need to focus on for the next ride. I'm getting older, and with it, my brain, which means as much as I could count on remembering the details of the last ride a few years ago, I think I really need to write it down as a reference from now on.

Goals for this year:
• Work on Gabe's sensitivity...something I never imagined I'd say with a Thoroughbred! He can be infuriatingly dead-sided when he just doesn't feel like doing it. Which leads naturally to:
• Forwardness and energy
• Better, steady rhythm at the trot and canter
• Circles!
• Lateral movement/shoulder-in/shoulder-out
• Jumping higher than a paltry 18" on a course/ditches/small drops/spreads
• Simple lead changes
• More out and alone rides to build the confidence
• Greater adjustability within each gait

Seems like a short enough list, but knowing Gabe like I know him, this will be one gargantuan task! I'm planning to ride at least four days a week, preferably five, and not every ride a "work" ride, but plenty of just out and about trail rides. I will have to really tighten up my work/school/farm/home schedule to fit those rides in, but I'll figure it out, even if I have to get up at 4 a.m. to beat the afternoon heat and ride with a headlamp.

I've been working on improving my own fitness all winter (since I haven't been in the saddle much), and I've not only gotten stronger and more flexible, but I've also managed to lose 37 pounds (so far!) with a few more to go. Before you know it, Gabe and I will BOTH be fit and sexy.

Oh, hunting I want to go!

2011-01-26T10:35:00.005-06:00

I miss foxhunting. Very badly. It is a thrill like no other I can even begin to describe. I grew up foxhunting with my mom and my first hunts were with the Ft. Leavenworth Hunt in Kansas. So much fun on a naughty, naughty (but very game) pony.

I was hoping to be able to hunt Gabe this season, but that hasn't quite panned out the way I'd hoped.

Natalie at Retired Racehorse Today posted this video (along with a few others) and I watched it a couple of times with goose bumps of thrills breaking out on my skin, my heart racing and my legs aching to be on a horse riding with that pack! I admit, I am a bit of a horseback adrenalin junkie...and this is my drug of choice. I need a fix!

This is video of the Scarteen Hunters in Ireland...ooohhh...FUN!! They say if you want a truly thrilling hunt, find an Irish pack. No fear.

I spent way too much time watching YouTube videos of foxhunts and all it managed to do was make me want to go hunting even more badly! Most of the videos I watched are of hunts in Ireland and England. One was of a pack of bloodhounds that track human "quarry" instead of fox, since that country outlawed hunting an actual fox. Still, too much fun! I totally live in the wrong country.

Frozen

2011-01-25T13:40:00.004-06:00

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago I was called a "fair weather rider." By my own mother. I don't remember why or what prompted the comment, but it's one of those things that has stuck with me all these years because that's the last thing I ever thought I'd be.

I've never considered myself a fair weather rider. I'd get out there and ride in the rain, the snow, the fog, the cold, the middle of winter in the middle of the night under a full moon...any time, any where. If there was time to ride, the homework and chores done, I was on my horse. And I'd make fun of friends who wouldn't ride unless the skies were blue, the temperature moderate and the bugs at a minimum. Most of us were "all weather" riders, but a few, not so much.

But, I find that the older I get, the less likely I am to bundle up and ride when that thermometer drops below 20. I just don't want to. I remember how much I LOVE riding in the snow, and the crisp, brisk air smacking my cheeks, reddening my nose and start thinking about pulling on silk long underwear, breeches, a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, sweatshirt, coat, gloves, hat, two pairs of socks, ear muffs...and it just seems like way too much effort.

Then I remember cold thighs, wind-induced tears frozen to my cheeks, numb fingers, frozen snot and feet that feel like they are going to shatter into a million frozen shards when you hit the ground on the dismount after being in the saddle for an hour or so.

And I skip it. I look out to the pasture and see Gabe gallivanting around in the snow, so happy and full of energy and boisterousness that I really, really want to get out there and ride and laugh.

But I don't want to freeze my ass off doing it, either.

There, I said it. I'm approaching "fair weather rider" status. Yikes! I hope this doesn't become a downward slide for me and I find myself only willing to ride when the weather is perfect. I never wanted to be one of "those riders."

I like riding in the rain. I LOVE riding in the fog and mist. Even the heat is tolerable.

But the cold. I just can't justify the bitter, biting, frigid, horrible, soul-sucking cold.

Hurry up spring! I need you!

And my soul soars

2011-01-03T12:15:00.003-06:00

For the first time in nearly two months the planets aligned, the mud cooperated and the sun gleamed golden in an azure sky and I was able to ride.

Oh, the feeling of pure joy attained after so long an absence, even with the silly boy antics tossed at me by the big gray guy. Emotionally and mentally I can always tell when I've gone too long without riding. I feel down in the dumps, like something in my life is missing and the weight of the world on my shoulders. One ride, good or not so good, is all it takes to lift me up again, to remind my soul that yes, I can soar with eagles when I climb astride my horse.

I only rode for about 45 minutes after lungeing the big goof ball for about 20 minutes. He performed several airs above ground, shimmied, ducked, bucked and twisted in the air, both on the line and with me in the saddle. Which, in an oddly demented way, was quite exhilarating to ride. I think I even whooped and laughed a few times as he was getting the ants out of his pants. Which I wouldn't have done if I hadn't been able to stick to the saddle and landed face-first in the frozen mud instead. I'm sure it would have been far less exciting if I had to wipe the mud off my face and catch my horse after such silliness on his part.

Life is good again. I'm ready for spring, longer days and grooming copious amounts of shedding hair from my fuzzy critters.

A video of the beasties enjoying the snow last weekend...that leap and spin performed by Gabe? Yeah, pretty sure I rode one eerily similar last night. Chief's lookin' pretty darn spry for a 25-year-old arthritic dude isn't he?

Sorry about the dang black speck in the video...there is a speck of something in the housing of my camera...a non-removable housing. I have to send it in to have it removed and I just haven't had the extra $$ laying around to get it done. :(

Winter blahs

2010-12-03T09:24:00.002-06:00

Oh, here we go again, the delightful period when all I can manage to write about is:
1. The early dark
2. The unending mud and
3. My inability to ride often because of 1 and 2.

Frustration sets in quickly and I begin to question more often, wondering if I really am a crazy person for wanting to keep my horses at home where I have no indoor arena and am constantly at the mercy of the weather.

Then, the ground freezes during the weekend, the sun comes out, the horses aren't plastered with mud and I can ride in the brisk, bright sun on a snorting, prancing, full-of-vim-and-vigor horse.

And life is good again.

Until the ground thaws, the horses take mud baths and I'm slogging through muck in the cold dark while cursing the winter solstice, frozen fingers and mud-caked boots.

But the hay shed is full, the horses are fuzzy and the tank heaters working. I'll get through another miserable winter, endlessly craving those seemingly scarce days when I can ride, finding contentment in simply burying my face in the warm, fuzzy neck of Gabe while he slobbers through his warm evening meal, dribbling some of it down my neck or across my back as he returns my affection with sticky, wet horse kisses.

Fast and slow

2010-11-16T09:11:00.002-06:00

It can be interesting riding two horses who are polar opposites.

Gabe is big, long-legged and graceful, but he's slow and tends to be a bit on the lazy side. He'd rather amble along than put forth any more effort than is absolutely required and there are rides when I have to push, push, push until I'm ready to fall off from exhaustion.

Calypso is short, compact and built like a bulldozer. But she's a much more forward mover and is willing to go go go until she falls over from exhaustion.

Calypso is in some ways a more difficult ride than Gabe. Not because she's a bad mare, but because I spend a good portion of the ride reminding her to SLOW DOWN and fighting with her desire to go faster, faster, faster. She has head-in-the-air-itis and gets quick, rushy and on her forehand fast. It doesn't help that she's already built with an upright shoulder, upright pasterns and is naturally built downhill. I totally understand why she gets rushy and why she tends to travel with her nose brushing the sky but I don't like it. Not one bit. It makes for a horrible ride and is not any good at all on her back and joints.

If I can get that issue solved with her she'll be pretty darn near ideal for anyone who wants to ride her.

It's an on and off thing with her, too. Some days she drops her neck and goes slow without much reminding. Those are the best rides on her and fortunately they are becoming much more frequent than they once were. Making progress, slowly but surely.

Last night's ride, not such a great ride. Head in the air, rush rush rush, quick mincing little steps, a jackhammer bareback ride in which I spent the entire time asking her to JUST SLOW DOWN DAMMIT. Yay. I'm SORE this morning.

It's during those rides that she responds when she feels like it and will just as soon keep blowing through the aids than listen to them. I can give her a series of half halts and she may respond to one of them. Her halt is good. Sit on your pockets, hold your abs tight, stop all body movement and quit following with your hands. It's even better if you combine the aids with a low "whoa." And, she stops.

But I can't get her to connect the halt aids to half halts and SLOW THE FREAK DOWN requests. She'll give five or six good, easy strides, then is back to head in the air rushing.

There are days when I'm sorely tempted to put a curb or a Kimberwicke on her just to get her attention, then go back to the D-ring snaffle she's in now. I don't know what to do. I'm not at all a big proponent of bitting harsher just because you can't properly train a horse to slow the heck down. I'm a firm believer that all good, well-trained horses should be able to go well in a snaffle...curbs are for fine-tuning and advanced movements, not for making better brakes. But there are days when I completely understand why rushy, fast horses are put into harsher and harsher bits and I really question why I haven't with her.

I think I'm going to put her in the side-reins and spend some time longeing her in them to try to help her figure it out without having to worry about a rider up there. We'll see what happens.

Riding out alone

2010-11-15T09:47:00.003-06:00

In my last post I asked for some ideas about how to safely ride alone. One of my biggest fears is finding myself out in the middle of nowhere, dumped and hurt and unable to move with my horse galloping all over kingdom come getting into who knows what and most likely finding some obscure way to injure or maim himself.

Who would know to come looking for me? No one. I'd freeze to death out there in the fields and coyotes would eat me because no one would even know where to start looking. That would suck.

I have ridden alone for as long as I can remember and really enjoy the relaxation of solitary riding, but there was always someone home, or someone at the barn, to start to worry if I didn't come back after a few hours...or if my horse came home without me.

We all know riding is a dangerous sport. When you take a powerful, 1,000 pound prey animal with a brain of it's own and an instinct to run from threats, anything can happen. Horse people with years of experience and knowledge have been maimed, killed or seriously injured by their horses. Not necessarily because the horse was dangerous or they were doing something stupid, but because sometimes, bad things happens.

I'm not as worried about taking Chief or Calypso out alone, but Gabe does worry me. He's still a big, powerful, sometimes nutty, green Thoroughbred baby. He can be unpredictable at times, and yes, there have been moments when his unpredictability has put me on edge more than a little bit.

Now, there is no one at home to know I'm gone, no one to glance at a clock and wonder why I'm not back, six hours after I left. No one to look out to the arena to make sure the horse is still between me and the ground.

I got quite a few good ideas in the comments, then a few more from my mom, who spent several months traveling the country, just her, her horse and dog. She traveled and rode alone every day and learned a few things along the way. By the way, I wanna be just like my mom when I grow up! I admire the guts it takes to just load the horse up and go, no time limit, no firm destination, just travel and enjoy.

1. Let someone know you're going riding and approximately when to expect to hear from you. Then make sure you call them or text them when you get back safely. No point in making someone worry unnecessarily. And you'll feel better knowing SOMEONE knows you're out and about. I know I do.

2. If you're going on a trail ride, leave a map at the barn or on your kitchen table marking the approximate location of where you plan to go and the trails you plan to take, just in case someone needs to go looking for you. That way they'll know where to start instead of standing around wondering which direction you felt inspired to take that day.

3. Carry a cell phone on your person. It's not doing you any good at all attached to your saddle, which is on your horse who is halfway back to the barn by now.

4. Always wear your helmet!

5. Kacy at All Horse Stuff recommended some kind of identification on your horse (name, phone number, address, barn location, etc.) so your wayward/runaway beast can make it home. Another suggested a simple dog tag on the bridle with the horse's name, your name and phone number engraved. I never thought of making sure my horse was ID'd, but it's a darn good idea and one I will do.

6. If you carry an all-purpose tool on your trail rides, carry it on your person, just like your cell phone. Because sometimes, in some situations, you just can't get to the saddle and need the tool RIGHT NOW!

7. Wear fairly brightly colored clothing. You will be much easier to find if you can be seen lying on the ground, in a ditch or in tall weeds/grass.

8. Always be prepared for anything. One of the riding habits I've been trying to instill in my daughter is to always be aware of what's going on around you. She's apt to just go along for the ride and not really pay attention to what's going on in the surroundings. She'll drop the reins and pay attention to everything BUT her horse as she's turning this way and that in the saddle to talk to me or get a better look at something we just passed.

I have been able to avert or prevent many a spook by noticing or spotting something well before my horse does and being ready just in case. If I know it's there, and I know there is a possibility he MIGHT take exception to it, I'm less likely to end up in the dirt. Now, I'm not saying stare at it and get tense and give him a reason to spook, just be aware of it so you can be prepared for it.

Happy, safe trails!

Sans saddle

2010-11-11T09:04:00.003-06:00

I rode the little bay mare last night.

Bareback.

It has been quite some time since I've ridden bareback, at least since before Star died six years ago. When I was a kid all I ever did was ride bareback. Everywhere, every time. It was too much of a bother and a hassle to haul out the saddle and tack up and when I first got my pony, Blaze, I didn't have a saddle anyway so bareback was the only option. I remember when I felt more secure riding bareback than I ever did riding in the saddle. I'd like to find that feeling again.

During our half hour ride it quickly became painfully obvious that I really need to ride bareback more often because I've developed a nasty habit of depending on my stirrups way too much. Oh, I know, I can ditch the stirrups in the saddle but then I grip with my knees, an equally sinful habit.

Calypso has a pony trot. She's a whole lot like riding a pogo-stick without shocks... a tooth-rattler, that's for sure. I figured out pretty quickly that I HAVE to keep my hips loose, my knees relaxed and my abs engaged if I wanted to sit that trot bareback AT ALL. It's tougher work than you imagine, keeping things loose and relaxed and trying to stay with her stride without banging around on her back.

While I learned that I've been depending too much on my stirrups and not keeping my hips loose (which I knew but didn't realize how much I was holding), I also realized that I don't depend on my hands for balance at all, a very good thing in light of the other two nasty habits I have to break.

Today, I hurt. My hip joints ache and my abs are SORE. My inner thighs kinda feel a little bit like Jell-O. I think I'll keep riding that mare bareback for awhile. I'm not quite ready to get on Gabe bareback, not yet. But I'm looking forward to it as soon as I feel ready to give it a go!

Which brings me to another subject: Riding safely...alone. I've recently become a single mom living on the farm without any other adults around. So, I'm riding by myself. Well, I almost always ride by myself, but, there is no longer anyone inside the house aware that I'm out riding.

And I worry a bit. What if I get dumped and get hurt and no one realizes it for days? I always wear my helmet, but helmets don't prevent broken necks or broken backs or smashed faces.

How do those of you who ride alone (ie: no one at home to know you're heading out) frequently handle the safety issue? Do you call someone and say "Hey! I'm going riding. I'm planning to head out in X direction. If you don't hear from me in X amount of time, call someone cause I may be dead/hurt/maimed/lost?"

What do you do?

Black Bird Rustling

2010-11-10T09:16:00.005-06:00

Let's add "black bird," to the list of Terrible Things That Eat Horses, Especially Ones Named Gabriel.

Uh huh. That's right. A black bird sent the big man into a tizzy last night. Make that several tizzies. No. I'm not kidding. Yes, I've seen the darn things perched on him out at pasture and had to flick dried evidence of their horseback perch from his hair.

We started out just fine. He was a little up, but just enjoying himself and having some fun.

Then we rode past a black bird that was making a racket rustling around in the crunchy leaves right next to the arena. His ears popped up, his neck arched and he did his signature duck and spin to head the other direction as quickly as possible.

Dork.

The bird remained. I don't know what was in that pile of dried leaves that had it's rapt attention, but the dang thing poked around in the pile during the entire 45 minute ride and made quite a bit of noise.

When we passed the bird doing it's thing, Gabe did his...duck, grunt and spin. After the second duck and spin he got spanked and I spun him back towards the Black Bird of Imminent Doom and Destruction.

We. Will. Pass. The. Bird. Without you acting like a moron I told him in my stern I'm-not-going-to-put-up-with-this-crap-today mommy voice.

After about the 6th pass and subsequent duck, grunt and spin, I spanked him and spun him to face that bird.

It's a BIRD, STUPID! A BIRD!

He trembled. I could feel that energy building in him like steam in a tea kettle on the verge of blowing full bore.

This wasn't fear, this was ENERGY and he was simply doing something with it. Yes, what he chose to do with it was inappropriate, but I had failed to give him any other way to release that energy. I had become so focused on making him walk nicely past the noisy bird that I failed to pay attention to his growing need, his increasing desperation to just GO FORWARD.

I forgot the number one Thoroughbred rule: When things get sticky, just GO FORWARD. Give them something to do with that energy before you lose their brains entirely.

I was quickly closing in on losing his brain entirely.

Forget the damn bird, it's trivial, I told myself, just go forward.

And forward we went. I bumped him up into a trot and he gave me the world on a platter. He presented a huge, ground eating, back swinging, throw me out of the saddle trot. Holy mackerel.

Past that bird (which was still doing it's thing in the leaves. Rustle...rustle...rustle) without a single ear twitch...forward forward forward using up that energy in a positive way. Not rushing, just working...energy cycling spectacularly from pushing hindquarters, through me and my arms and to the bit where he graciously took it, raised his poll, lifted his withers, lifted his belly and gave me something he's never given me before....he went on the bit! Granted, it was only for a half dozen strides or so, but he gave it and I took it with graciously and with immense pleasure.

The feeling...indescribable. There was no force, there was no holding or pushing or pulling or fighting...it was energy in it's purest form, the two of us in harmony.

For a few strides, I rode Nirvana. It's that place we all seek with our horses and from time to time, we find it, however fleeting the moment may be, we constantly strive to find it again and make it longer, more frequent. Beautiful.

The ears flick, the horse thinks

2010-11-03T09:19:00.004-05:00

I walked up to the pasture gate and as soon as Gabe saw me he cantered towards me, bucking and flinging his big body around like a well-trained and agile athlete. I didn't whistle or call to get his attention, he was just there, like that. He got a carrot as a reward (and maybe a bribe) and I slipped his halter over his head. He continued to bop around on the end of the lead rope like a silly, playful yearling.

"Uh oh," I thought, just knowing that this was going to be one of those rodeo rides and I might just end up butt in the dirt. I was prepared for a wild ride should he decide to throw a few of his typical "I'm gonna be a nut job today" antics into the mix. I've been working out and lifting weights, losing weight and feeling stronger and more flexible every day.

I was confident I could ride just about anything he threw at me, confident but cautious. I know the power this horse has and if he decides he wants me off...I'm coming off. End of story.

I started with a 10 minute longe session, just to get the kinks, bucks and wild head tosses out.

He was perfect. Spiraled in and out at the trot beautifully. Walked, trotted and halted on command without me having to resort to getting on his case about obedience.

Hmmm...interesting. I hadn't ridden for about two weeks, so this was atypical behavior for him. Usually, when I let more than a couple of days go by without riding he's a handful. Not bad, just....spirited and full of himself. A horse in love with just being.

I settled into the saddle and sighed deeply. I have made it a habit of sighing deeply when I get on and doing it frequently during our rides - it relaxes me and relaxes him. It's just a good practice and reminds me to stay relaxed and supple.

He waited for the cue to walk on. On a typical mount up I have to remind him at least once to stand still until I give him the go ahead. I squeezed, he responded and moved forward, reaching for the bit, immediately relaxed and swinging in his back, ears flicking forward and then back to me, forward, then back, paying attention, waiting to answer the questions.

The wind was blowing and leaves falling from the trees. A couple of trees creaked in the breeze and a squirrel gave us an earful from his lofty perch.

And the ears kept flicking back to me "What now mom? What's next? Okay, gotcha! Let's do this!"

Not one hop, buck, jump, head toss, faux spook or girly squeal.

I sat amazed at my boy. Amazed and proud and loving every single bit of him.

He was stiff to the left, which is unusual for him. He's usually stiff to the right. He was a lazy and behind my leg, but a few tap tap taps of the whip and he picked it up. Shallow serpentines to work on the bending, circles down the long sides, figure-8s, gait changes, halt to trot, rein back to trot, trot to halt, slight extensions and collections at the walk and trot and some leg yielding.

None of it was perfect, but he was really, really trying to please and do what was asked of him and in my book, that's more than good enough. That's all I ever ask and I never expect more than he can give.

Although he was stiff to the left, we were getting lots of saliva and foam ONLY on the right side of his mouth. I'm not quite sure what that means. Am I holding on the left and following on the right? Obviously, there is something going on there that is encouraging an unevenness in him, and most likely it's me. I will figure it out.

And the ears kept flicking back and forth, back and forth.

I grinned like a fool, proud of my beautiful and wonderful Thoroughbred, loving this horse even more with each and every step he takes.

The longest months

2010-11-01T10:49:00.002-05:00

There is no denying it.

The frost has been on the pumpkins, the trees are dropping their leaves in great colorful drifts, there has been a thin skin of ice on the water tanks in the morning and the horses are getting fuzzier by the minute.

Winter is just around the corner.

The cold, the ice, the mud...oh. The mud. In this part of the world we hover right between being in The North and being considered Southern. Some winters are bitter cold and the ground freezes solid and we get real snow. Other winters are more southern in nature - we don't get real snow, we get ice storms - and nothing ever really stays frozen for long so we are left with lots of thick, sticky nasty mud, the bane of every horse owner every where. Mud sucks. Literally. It sucks off shoes, it sucks off boots, it pulls tendons and wrenches ankles. There is nothing that sucks the energy out of me faster than having to slog through mud. I can't even tell you the number of times I've walked right out of my muck boots and planted my poor socked foot deep into cold, nasty mud.

I spend every season battling mud. Gravel disappears into the quagmire of nastiness. I'm pretty sure the gravel breeds mud, no matter how much I put down there is always more mud. It's incorrigible.

Aside from spending the other seasons prepping for the mud in an attempt to stave it off in the winter, I've been preparing for winter in other ways too.

My hay shed is FULL of beautiful sweet-smelling hay. There is something very comforting about a full hay shed going into the winter. That is one thing on the list of things I won't have to worry about for a few months.

Blankets have been found, examined and repaired. I still need to get them to the laundromat for a good washing. The horses don't wear them often, I prefer their natural coats, but when we get a good ice storm with lots of wind I blanket 'em up. You can have a cold horse...you can have a wet horse, but you should never have a cold, wet horse. Those who have horses living on pasture know: Even if they have a place to escape the weather (ie cozy run-in sheds bedded with nice, fresh straw) they rarely use them when they are supposed to. Silly beasts!

The water tank heaters have been found and examined for wear and tear and tested to make sure they still work. Calcium deposits from the winter before have been scrubbed off.

Fences have been examined and tightened and repaired where needed. Pastures at rest for the winter closed off, sprayed for weeds, limed, the clumps of poo spread and mowed one last time. I missed the fall deadline for overseeding for this area, so that will be done as soon as possible in the spring. There are only a few areas that need it this time, thankfully.

Although it's not quite cold enough yet, the hose still needs to come inside at some point. Filling tanks with a frozen hose is not only frustrating, but often impossible and frequently ends with a burst hose.

It's also time to give all my brushes their seasonal scrubbing and disinfecting. I do this once every season. It gives me the chance to really examine my brushes, replace the worn ones and keep things nice and clean. You can't get a dirty horse clean with a filthy brush!

I found the Thrush Buster, the heavy duty mud brushes and the scratches remedy. Again, the mud. My bane.

Calypso likes to break out in rain rot every winter, so I've dug out the ointment/scrub for that, too. This year I'm going to do my damndest to try to prevent her from "rotting." We'll see what happens.

My tack needs a good scrubbing and conditioning. The cold, dry weather wreaks havoc on good leather.

While many people don't consider it, I also stock up on electrolytes for winter use. I have discovered it can be a challenge to find electrolytes during the winter at the feed store, so I stock up at the end of summer. The horses tend to drink less during the winter, and, combined with the cold, less desire to move around and increased dry roughage (hay), it's a recipe for colic. I feed electrolytes daily in the horse's warm beet pulp mash to encourage winter water consumption. It seems to work. The tanks don't empty quite as fast as they do in the summer, but the water level lowers steadily and gives me peace of mind knowing they're getting enough in their tummies to keep things moving right along properly.

And finally, now that I've found and fixed the horse's outerwear, it's time to find mine! Gloves, coats, hats, scarves, etc. Oh, and thick socks...must have thick socks for riding. I can stand cold noses. I can tolerate cold fingers, but when I dismount after a chilly ride, the last thing I want is to feel like I've shattered my feet when I hit the ground! So, warm socks top the list.

I still need to replace the handles on my wheelbarrow. They snapped this summer and need repaired. Can't clean run-ins without a wheelbarrow! I've been using the yard cart on my mower to keep them clean until now, but when it's muddy, that mower ain't going through it without a fight!

Are you ready for winter?

My little helper...

2010-10-29T19:19:00.003-05:00

Not!

Accomplishing farm tasks, in the pasture, is pretty darn near impossible with Gabe sticking his nose up in my business the entire time.

But I don't mind so much, not really. Even as much as I complain and call him all kinds of names during his nosiness, I kind of like that he chooses to be with me when I'm in the pasture and not the other horses.

He's not TOO pushy. Definitely not rude or scary. Just....curious, as all good horses should be.

Hmm...what have we here? A bucket of stuff? What's the stuff? Can I eat it?

What do you mean there are no peppermints here? Really? You're kidding right?

Oooh...this is yummy! Yes, the brute left teeth marks on the drill. He's like a baby...everything goes in his mouth at some point. I have to be extra diligent about keeping noxious/poisonous weeds out of the pastures because the dang fool has been witnessed EATING THEM!

Have hammer, will travel! He has been known to clock me in the head with the hammer...and has hit himself with it once or twice. I don't know what his deal is, but once he has it in his teeth he like to swing it around.

I did manage to get the gate up...took probably twice as long as it should have and it hangs a bit crooked...but it's up nonetheless! Thanks for your help, big guy!

Mmm....farrier! Tastes like peppermint

2010-10-12T09:50:00.004-05:00

My farrier has been out for about three months with a broken arm. Not just any old broken arm either. He got nailed by an exploding fuel cell to a nail gun while he was burning a pile of construction trash. It not only broke his arm, it tore his arm open to the bone and did some nerve damage. Ewwww!!!

So, my ponies have been farrier-less all summer. Surprisingly though, their feet looked pretty darn good considered. They all "self-trimmed" and when he was finally able to get out and get them done Monday, he really didn't have to do much but trim back a flare and run a rasp over them. Nothing major at all. I blame it on the pastures and the fact that I don't keep them stalled.

Gabe loves the farrier.
Seriously.
Well, he loves to try to chew on him any way. Nom nom nom! I spend the entire trim keeping Gabe's lips and teeth off Don's hat, chaps, shirt and butt. He is one mouthy little turd, that's for sure.

I have decided that I need to find someone who will teach me basic farrier skills. I don't want to learn to shoe (mine go barefoot any way) or learn how to do any kind of major foot work. I just want to learn how to maintain those hooves between trims so maybe I can stretch out the time between trims a bit and be knowledgeable enough to be able to care for those feet when things happen that prevent the farrier from coming out on a regular schedule.

I did buy a rasp to have on hand, just in case, but so far I've been a little hesitant to apply rasp to hoof. My luck I'd rasp it all the way down to a nub.

So, that's my next goal (a non-riding goal!) learn how to do minor maintenance on my horse's hooves.

Just ride

2010-10-09T10:42:00.003-05:00

This morning I got up before the sun to ride the mare before I had to go to work.

Early morning has always been my favorite time to ride...the world feels so new and fresh and full of promise. The horses are peppy and eager to go. When I was younger (high school age) I remember getting up early during the summer to get on my mare just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I loved, and still love, that quiet alone time, that softness of the world before it rubs the sleep from its eyes.

But as I was riding this morning I realized something was vastly different from when I rode in the morning as a teenager.

My reasons for riding had changed. I wasn't on Calypso purely for the joy of riding, exploring and being with her.

I was on her with a purpose: Get X done then work on Y.

And I started thinking (I know, scary stuff!). When was the last time I got on to ride just for the pure pleasure of riding? Nothing more, nothing less. When I get on now it's with some sort of training goal in mind: I'm going to accomplish this today with Gabe, or that today with Calypso.

And I ride until I achieve the goal and get off, content that I had achieved that goal, happy that I had ridden. I still get pleasure from riding but it's different than it was.

Have my reasons for riding changed over the years? I don't really think so. I get an indescribable joy, comfort and contentment when I ride. I relax and let the world go as soon as my foot hits the stirrup and all the tension and stress of my day melt away when my butt hits the saddle.

But the purpose has changed in ways I've never really considered. I get on to work my horse, get to that next level of training, accomplish a goal.

When I was 13, 14, 15 I got on with no real goal in mind...I just got on to ride and off I went. I didn't have any desire or need to work on perfecting a circle or fine-tuning a halt. We had stop, go and turn perfected and I saw no need to ever require anything more than that.

I just rode, over hills, across fields, out into no-man's land where it was just me, the horse and the Kansas prairie. I was content with just being one with my horse for however long we happened to be out. We'd trot, gallop, mosey along, pop over ditches and logs, gallop up an down hills, forge new paths, wade through creeks and sometimes get lost. I didn't worry about my hips being loose or my heels down...as long as I stayed on (because I typically rode bareback every where) there was nothing else to think about.

My little quarter horse mare, Sundancer, became the most broke, responsive, willing beast I have ever sat upon. Why? Because we went out and DID everything. I didn't get stuck on some goal about training her to trot better or getting her on the bit properly, we went out, we rode, we tackled tough terrain and just had fun. And the entire time, by doing nothing more than enjoying the ride, I was training her to be exactly the kind of horse I wanted without realizing I was doing it.

What changed over the years? How did I go from a rider who rode purely for the joy of being with her horse, to a rider who got into the saddle a specific goal in mind?

I can't even trail ride any more without throwing some kind of training goal into the mix...work on laterals, fine-tune the halt, get a really good walk.

What happened to JUST RIDING? I have no lofty expectations or goals of ever doing a lot of showing. Sure, I'd like to show again, it's fun. But I don't NEED to show.

I just want to ride. I love to ride, but somehow, somewhere along the way I have forgotten WHY I ride.

I need to rediscover that pure, simple joy that is horses.

Look to yourself first

2010-10-07T10:24:00.002-05:00

If I'm having training issues with my horse I always look at myself first.

One of my favorite horse books is "There are no problem horses, only problem riders," by Mary Twelveponies. That statement sums up almost every training and behavioral issue faced by riders and owners. Horses are just horses and will behave like horses when left alone. Riders and trainers create the bad behaviors/habits because every time we are with them, in any capacity, we are training them, both good and bad.

As I've written previously I've been having some "energy" issues with Gabe. He just can't get his hind end powered and moving like it should be. I've nicknamed him Mr. Lazy Pants, because that's what he feels like quite often.

I thought it might have been the hot weather sapping his energy, but, now that we've had a few weeks of cooler weather and chilly nights, he's still not got much up and go.

So, I looked to myself. What could I be doing in the saddle that might be preventing or inhibiting him from really moving forward with good energy?

I took stock of my position...closed my eyes at the walk and really felt every part of my body, how each joint was responding to his movement. Toes relaxed and not clenched, ankles relaxed and acting like shock absorbers, knees loosed, relaxed and not pinching, hips....whoa! Wait a minute here. What the heck is going on with those hip joints? Holy cow. Locked up good and tight and not moving with him AT ALL.

I found my issue, the one that is creating HIS issue. Once you lock those hip joints you're telling your horse to slow, slow, slow and blocking any kind of relaxed forward movement.

Basically, I was riding the brakes without even realizing I was doing it. I do a lot of yoga and relaxation visualization so, keeping my eyes closed, I thought about my hip joints being loose, elastic, supple and following and I felt them loosen. As they loosened I felt myself sink deeper and more solidly into the saddle. I'd been riding in a perched and "protective" position. I know I adopted that position when I first started riding him because he was so reactive and prone to moments of silliness.

As they loosened I felt him relax and start taking bigger, more energetic strides. I "walked" my seatbones bigger and faster, really working on keeping those hips relaxed and following, not blocking those hind legs from stepping forward and under me. And he responded in like by taking bigger, quicker and more energetic strides. When he's really striding out and using himself properly, his walk is AMAZING. When I bought him, I definitely bought the walk!

I had to think about it or those pesky, tight hip joints would start tightening up as soon as I wasn't thinking about it. I know it will take some time to "re-condition" those joints, but it can definitely be done. I'll be adding hip-loosening stretches to my stretching and yoga routine from now on.

I could have just strapped on the spurs or energetically employed the whip to get him up and moving forward, but I KNEW he had the energy and I knew somehow I had to be doing something to prevent him from using himself fully and properly.

Helpful hooves and busy lips

2010-10-05T21:56:00.003-05:00

Gabe is an incredibly helpful guy. If he had thumbs, he'd be right up in the thick of things, getting it done.

Oh. Wait. He already is.

He likes to be right. there. with you, either resting his chin on your back or trying to operate the tools himself.

See how helpful he is, trying to assist Kayleigh in her poisonous weed digging efforts?

Hey, little human, gimme that shovel! I'll show you how it's done! He did try to snatch that shovel from her a few times and try as she might, she couldn't even bodily shove him away.

He's always been a helpful ham. When the run-ins were under construction, he'd casually wander over and steal tools...drills, hammers, a box of screws, whatever he could get his teeth on and take off with. As irritating as it can be, it sure makes hard work a little lighter.

The last big job of getting the fence done involved hand-digging a three foot deep hole to sink and concrete in a 6"x8' post to hang the gate from. I loaded up my little utility wagon with all the supplies: Post hole digger, shovel, concrete, post, level, measuring tape and a 5-gallon bucket of water to set the concrete.

Of course, my big man was over there right up in my business, making a gigantic mess of my neat pile of dirt by digging around in it. He kept trying to steal the post hole digger from me and snatched the level at least once.

Then, that great big snot drank my entire bucket of water. He stood there as I was laboring and sweating and swearing at the hole I was digging and that sneaky, sneaky turd drank all my water! Last thing I wanted to do was trek all the way back to the house to fetch more, but, of course I did. I swore I was going to make HIM do it and called him all sorts of lovely names while giving him neck scritches.

Gate posts must be as straight as possible or the gates hang funny and don't swing right. So, I dropped that post into the hole, dumped a little dry concrete in there to hold it in place a bit better and broke out my level to get that sucker as straight as possible.

And Gabe, once again, had to help. Level against the post I'd shift it ever so slightly one way or the other, intently watching to make sure that magic bubble lined up precisely. I'd get it juuuussttt right and here comes his big nose to shove the post where he sees it more fit to be.

Grrr...what should have taken a 1/2 hour to complete took over an hour because of his oh-so helpful nature.

Don't get me wrong, I love the big guy to pieces, but he seriously makes a simple job so much more complicated! If I'd loved him any less he would have been dodging the dirt clods aimed at his nosy rump rather than seeking scratches and resting his head on my shoulder where he'd sigh deeply and try to sneak the tools out of my hands.

Farm work....it never ends (but I love it!)

2010-10-03T21:33:00.004-05:00

How did you spend your weekend?

My plan was to ride both Gabe and Calypso each Saturday and Sunday. But, best laid plans...blah blah blah.

Neither got ridden but I am still sore and exhausted.

Instead, I spent the weekend putting up fence around the last big pasture. It hasn't been mowed since mid-summer so the grass is tall, thick and absolutely gorgeous. There is enough grass there that I'm going to get at least another full month of solid grazing in before I have to start feeding those poop machines any hay at all.

Of course, putting up fence is never simple for me. Putting up fence IS simple, but for me, there's always something that makes it not so simple. I had to clear a pretty good path through the woods for the fence, then, ended up spending well over an hour untangling at least a 1/2 mile of electric rope that I made the mistake of letting my kiddo carry out to the pasture. Oh. Joy. That'll learn me. Next time, she can carry the spool, I'll carry the "loose" fencing.

Once I got all the posts set and the insulators on, it is a breeze putting up the rope, that took a little over and hour. And when I turned the horses out on it you would have thought they'd gone to heaven! Running and bucking and farting and checking out the new digs and looking like a small herd of babies just being SILLY! I love it when they behave like that. I could spend all day just watching them be horses. It makes my heart laugh.

Fence posts along the backside of the woods. They eventually head into the woods....this was tricky as I had to figure out how to best, and most safely, navigate the fence up and down a pretty good sized ravine.

The easier line to set...nice and straight, flat and even.

Oooh...where does this go? OMG! We've never seen this part before! RUN!!!! BUCK!!! SQUEAL LIKE GIRLS!

Keep in mind...Gabe is 16.2hh. That's some grass. I kept waiting to find a small village of people living in there somewhere.

And just in case any rabid squirrels attempted to carry me off to their evil little squirrel villages, I brought along my own personal protector.

Mare on the market

2010-09-30T08:38:00.003-05:00

The mare is going to hate my guts for the next few months. She started hating 'em last night when I pulled her tubby butt out of the pasture and put her back to work. She hasn't been ridden for months and I'm pretty sure she thought she was living in some kind of equine spa...no work, all play and plenty of good food and relaxation.

I put that fantasy to rest rather quickly.

She is officially back in training and I've given myself three months to get her more fit and put some finishing touches on her before I start advertising her for sale.

Right now she has basic training on her and has quite a few trail miles under her belt. She is quiet, sane and willing.

Her biggest downfall is her conformation. She is a cute mare, but she has a stick-straight shoulder, upright pasterns and a downhill build. I'm not going to be able to market her on stellar conformation: She's going to have to sell herself on her experience and training.

She goes English and Western and does trails. I've never taken the time to teach her to longe and long rein so that's on the list of things to get done with her. I'll also pop her over a few jumps, set up an obstacle course, take her out for more trail rides alone and fine-tune her to do more than the basic stop, go and turn. She has some lateral movement, but not much.

Kayleigh has ridden her a few times and she was wonderful for her, so I'm thinking that if I can market her as an all-around, do-anything horse suitable for a young rider she'll sell well. We'll see. The market isn't great, but she needs to find a new home as soon as possible and I'm going to do all I can to make sure I can get her into the best home possible.

An update on the bony pony

2010-09-29T13:28:00.003-05:00

A quick update on this post.

The horses eventually went home on their own. The animal control officer contacted the bad, bad horse owning neighbor, and, because I included my name in the complaint this time, she knew who was making waves about her starving horses. I later made another anonymous complaint to the county health department about the condition of her property, which is indescribable. Can you say health risk, junk heap, dump? Yeah. It's bad.

She called me to rant and rave and call me all kinds of delightful names, which I found slightly amusing. I remained polite, quiet and had a smile on my face the entire time she lost control of herself. I was waiting for her to start making monkey noises and threaten to fling poo while scraping her knuckles along the ground. It amazes me the names and threats angry people can come up with when things aren't going their way...especially when they KNOW they are in the wrong and can come up with nothing worse than "You stupid bitch," "ignorant asshole," and "busybody cunt." Joy. I've been called worse by better, on a daily basis. Comes with my job field.

She even have the nerve to threaten to call animal control on MY horses. I welcomed her to make that call, told her to make as many calls as she wants to as many animal welfare organizations as she wants as I have absolutely nothing to hide from anyone and told her as much. She threatened to call the police on me if I rode my horses on the road next to her house ever again, which I have permission to do from the landowner. But, I'll avoid the confrontation as there are PLENTY of other places to ride.

And, just as I suspected, her excuse for that walking bag of bones is AGE. Yes. Age. There is a certain level of ignorance I can tolerate, but this level of absolute stupidity astounds me in so many ways. I am going to keep a watchful eye on that horse through the winter as it appears the animal control officer did nothing more than talk to her. But he was familiar with her and the horses when I made the complaint, so I may not be the only one who knows what's going on in her field and thinks it's absolutely shameful. I will continue to make complaints for as long as that animal remains a rack of bones. Unfortunately, that's about all I can do, short of stealing them.

This makes me so ANGRY!

2010-09-22T09:18:00.004-05:00

Most of the time I'm a pretty laid back person and can take things in stride. But, there are a few things I get really, really angry about. Animal abuse and child abuse top my list.

For the past few years I've been trying to get something done about my neighbor's horses. I've reported them and I've provided hay for them (at no charge) when they were out. I've written about them previously here. This spring one of the three starving horses died after she got caught in their barbed wire fence and no one noticed she was missing for days.

This morning, the two remaining animals showed up on my farm and of course sent MY horses into a tizzy.

This is what I saw walking down my driveway:

This is Snickers, he is an Arabian cross and not older than 15. The POA in the background is Arrow, he doesn't look nearly as bad as Snickers.

There is absolutely no excuse, ever, for any animal to ever, ever look like this. None. People who are less informed may chalk this kind of condition up to age.

I've heard it more than once "You can't keep weight on old horses. They are just skinny."

Bullshit.

This isn't age. This is purely neglect and starvation and it doesn't happen over night. A body condition like this does not happen because you ran out of good hay for a week or two. This happens when you consistently don't feed quality feed or, heck, even bother to feed them at all.

Yes, older horses take more care, more calories, more hands-on maintenance and regular vet/dental care to keep them from getting to this point. Chief is 25. He looks fabulous, and is perhaps a bit on the too fat side. It takes a careful eye and adjusting of his diet to keep him healthy, but I do it because that's my responsibility. Period. I took on an aged horse knowing full well he could become expensive to maintain as he grew older.

I have dealt with horses who have a hard time holding weight. Star was one of those. I had to constantly pack the calories in her and keep the fat and protein in her diet fairly high, just to prevent her from becoming a walking rack of bones. Was it cheap? Hell no. Was it easy? Not a bit. Did I get to the point where she held her weight and looked GOOD? You betcha.

I have filed a report about these horses with the Sheriff's department and animal control. I can only hope they will do something to get these horses out of this situation. They deserve better.

A monster in the cornfield

2010-09-15T08:52:00.005-05:00

If I didn't know better I'd swear there was cuttin' horse blood coursing through my Thoroughbred's blue-blooded veins.

That boy can drop rump and spin 180-degrees without thinking about it then take off like his tail was on fire. It's actually quite fun to ride...when I know it's coming!

Last night's arena ride was lazy and slow but we did good work. I remembered to ride the effort, but also took the time to just give him his head and let him find his own way without me nagging at him. I can become quite a "nagging" rider if I don't keep myself in check, especially on Gabe. He never expends more energy than he absolutely has to, so, to keep him working at a good walk or trot, I have to keep on him, pushing, pushing, pushing. Unfortunately I've been known to get stuck in the rut of pushing and nudging...I get into a rhythm...and I forget to give him the release/reward when he DOES step up. I worked on very obviously giving him a release when he stepped up like I asked. Granted, he reverts back to the drag-butt pace in a few strides, but I gave him release and only "nagged" at him when he started dragging.

We had plenty of Losgelassenheit, but not a whole lot of Schwung! Must work on the Schwung.

For portions of the ride I just released him, completely, and let him do as he wanted. I think it's good for a horse to know that every now and then they are in charge and can make the decisions. I believe it builds their confidence and encourages decision-making (if that's possible!). I'd rather have a horse who is confident enough to try to get us out of a bad situation than to wait for me to make a decision in a split-second...such as over cross-country jumps or out hunting.

After every ride we go out for a short trail ride as our cool-down and a nice hack-out after the real work. The farmers are in the fields and one of the fields next to my property is harvested so I decided we'd take a swing around it.

The combines have been out and spent most of the day behind the horses' pasture yesterday so I thought "eh, the combines won't bother him, he's seen 'em all day!"

Boy, was I ever wrong. Apparently the electric rope around the pasture prevents the combines from eating the horses. But you take him out of that roped off safety zone that giant, rumbling machine with teeth is GOING TO GET HIM!

As we were riding around the field one of the combines came up a rise and around a corner in the next field, straight towards us, spewing the remains of corn husks and smiling at Gabe with it's shiny, flesh-ripping teeth.

Gabe lost his everlovin' mind and decided he needed to save both of us from the corn-chomping monster. Drop rump, spin and RUN!!!! AWAY!!!!! from the beast of DOOM! I guess he DID have some energy hiding in that big body of his...he was just saving it for an emergency.

I thought I was a goner for a minute and remembered to push my heels down, shove my legs forward, stand up and press my hands firmly into his crest so he'd pull against himself, not me. Good thing I hack out with my reins bridged!

I let him run a bit and we settled quickly into a less frenetic rhythm. The thing about Thoroughbreds is, if you just let them go forward to get it out of their system, they get their minds back rather easily. If you fight them and make them go slow, slow, slow, the tension just builds to explosive levels. So we galloped. He snorted and blew and sweated and we galloped. Not far, maybe half a mile, but far enough for him to start to relax.

All I have to say is this: I am SO glad I put a really good stop on him or we may still be galloping!

Then, I turned his big gray butt around and we walked/jigged/hopped/side-passed right back towards the maw of the metal beast. He didn't want to, but he went because I insisted. And once we got close enough (a couple hundred feet), I made him stand/jiggle/wiggle/dance and wait for it to make a corner and head away from us before I allowed him turn around and walk back from where we came.

There are lessons in everything and in everything, I take the opportunity to turn it into a learning experience in the hopes that one day the corn, the telephone pole, the combine and the waving marker flag will no longer incite him to turn tail and run.

The engaged rider

2010-09-14T09:20:00.003-05:00

Some times, you're just a passenger along for the ride.

Other times, you are a rider.

It always makes me smile when non-riders comment with "Riding isn't REAL exercise. The horse does all the work."

Well. Yes and no. Depends on the ride. If you're just a passenger, then yes, the horse IS doing all the work. Being a passenger is just fine for trail rides or hacking out.

But if you are a RIDER, then you work for the ride. You sweat, you ache, you get winded and muscles can get sore and even cramp. Because being a rider is about being more than a passenger, you're a partner working to help your horse be his very best. He needs your support, your guidance and your ability to stay upright and in balance with him, not just sitting there like a useless sack of potatoes making his job harder.

Last night Gabe reminded me how very important it is to be a rider, not a passenger. He was having a rough time with circles tracking right. Falling out big time, feeling really unbalanced and unsure of himself as he tried to do as I asked.

And then I realized I was just being a passenger guiding him through the exercises. I wasn't giving him the support he needed to really use his body in the most effective, efficient and beautiful way possible.

So I stepped up my game, got in tune with him and RODE. I engaged my core, realized I was collapsing a hip around the corners, which subsequently threw him off balance and caused him him to fall out, and put him on my aids, between the reins and my legs, balanced my seat bones on him evenly and asked him to match me.

And he did. It took a little bit but once I was in tune with HIM he tuned in to me and matched my body, balanced, even and upright. It awes me the way they are able to match your body nearly step for step when you take the time and the effort to be in balance and harmony with them. It doesn't take brute strength to bend them nicely around a corner: It takes an engaged core, a tightening of the obliques on the inside of the circle and a slight adjustment of the seat bones and upper body to guide them.

Sometimes I forget to use the classical dressage "spiral seat" but once I remember to engage it magic happens under the saddle and I want to beat myself about the head and shoulders for failing my horse and making HIM do all the work or struggle beneath my unbalanced weight. My personal riding goal is to never forget to use it!

There is a reason Alois Podhajsky, Nuno Oliveira, Reiner Klimke and Walter Zettl are known as the "masters." They know classical dressage and anyone who wants to be more than just a passenger along for the ride should study them or find a trainer who has studied them. Their writing is inspiring, their methods fair to the horse and their insights often create an "ah ha!" moment for me.

Shorter and shorter

2010-09-13T12:53:00.002-05:00

It always happens this way.

Just a week ago I was currying the last of Gabe's fuzzy winter coat from his body to reveal the slick, shiny summer coat hiding beneath those long hairs. Well, it felt like a week ago. Who can forget the billions of itchy hairs stuck to every part of your body and clothing on a daily basis? Not me!

Now, I'm already grooming the slick summer hairs from him and watching as daily he turns a darker shade of gray and those glorious dapples become even more prominent. I never really realized a gray could actually bleach out under the summer sun, but it turns out they do. The coat beneath his mane was a few shades darker than the rest of his body. Good thing we didn't do any showing this year or that would look mighty funny when he was all braided up.

Where did the summer go and why did it go so quickly? I ask this question every year as the days grow shorter and the coats grow longer and I never really have a good answer. Pretty soon I'll be relegated to riding on weekends only again or braving the darkness with just a headlamp lighting our way. There is almost nothing more challenging than riding in the dark on a horse who has decided the best thing in the world to do is shy at the light bobbing along in front of him while keeping a wary ear cocked towards the woods...which are absolutely brimming with horse-eating monsters.

But, with the shorter days come my most favorite time of year: The crisp, cool mornings of fall. The delightful smell of falling leaves, cooling soil and an invigorating chill in the air that makes my horses dance with joy at being alive and frisky.

I chased a fox off my property yesterday. A big, brave critter that decided my chickens looked like an easy, tasty meal right there in my arena. Fortunately he wasn't quite fast enough to catch my chickens but I'm sure he'll be back to give it another go.

And seeing that fox in his red coat and bushy tail made me long to spend my weekends fox hunting. Oh, how I miss that thrill! I was hoping to take Gabe out on his first hunt this season, but it doesn't look like that will happen. Not because he's not ready to hunt and not because I'm not DYING to hunt him, but because I am currently lacking transportation to get him to the fixtures. *sigh* Maybe next year. I guess I should move "my own horse trailer" higher on to the needs list, eh?

Bits and muddy butts

2010-09-03T08:13:00.004-05:00

I've tried a plain eggbutt snaffle, a loose-ring comfort mouth snaffle, a plain D-ring snaffle and a full-cheek snaffle on Gabe.

He hated the full-cheek, played like crazy with the loose-ring and just didn't seem to care for either the eggbutt or the D-ring.

I have one more mild snaffle in my arsenal of bits.

It's a Myler comfort mouth level 2 snaffle with hooks. Sounds complicated, but it's one of the most interesting and mildest bits I've used. It's a snaffle with a very, very small port on it for tongue relief. The hooks, which are spaces to connect the bridle and the reins directly to the D-ring, stabilize the bit in the mouth and the way the snaffle joint is connected it prevents the "nutcracker" effect of most snaffles and allows me to move each side of the bit independent of the other. I really like this bit.

And apparently, so does Gabe! He mouthed it a bit, chewed on it, wiggled it around as much as he could, sighed and dropped his head. He wasn't quite sure what to think at first about the port and my ability to move each side of the bit independently, but he figured it out pretty quickly and seemed to accept it far better than the other bits I've used.

But before I could ride, I had to deal with THIS. Seriously Gabe? Must we roll and roll and roll every single time it rains? And what's wrong with rolling in the grass? Must you find the slickest, wettest, muddiest spot available?

Nothing like a mud-covered beast to start your riding time out right! He likes to grind it in good. And our mud isn't just mud, it's mostly clay, so even on a summer coat, it sticks like glue.

Luckily he didn't grind too much mud into the tail. Usually I'm picking huge clumps and giant hard balls of mud out of the end. He was at least kind enough to spare me that extra effort.

I love this horse's eye. They are so dark, deep and expressive. I can lose myself in them and I get the feeling there is a whole lot going on in that head that I'll never know. It's almost like gazing into the eyes of a lover. Can't you see the intelligence in there?

I LOVE this picture. Amazing how waiting an hour to catch the light of the setting sun makes such a big difference in the ambiance of the photo.

On the road again...

2010-08-30T11:03:00.005-05:00

I love it when friends come over to ride with me. I love riding with my kid, but honestly, adult company is very welcome. It can get quite lonely riding by myself all the time!

We went out road riding on the rarely-traveled back roads. You know, the ones that are barely a full lane wide? Thought about riding through the bottoms but with harvest in full-swing, I didn't want to risk running into any extra-loud combines rumbling through the already-scary dry and noisy corn stalks. Especially not when Kayleigh was riding with us.

She enjoys riding ahead, blazing the trails and leading the pack. Good thing Chief doesn't really care where he is in the "pack." Gabe is asking, very nicely, if he can trot to catch up. He was quite well-behaved most of the ride. There were a couple of spook-n-scoot sideways moments, but nothing major.

Can you tell she loves that old App? He does good by her. She can hang all over him and he just takes it without twitching an ear.

Seriously Gabe. What's with the mane? Sheesh. Your stylist is not on the ball with this one.

We were out for a couple of hours and the horses were content to just plod along, heads low, hooves draggin'. And while I would have liked a little more "pep in the step" I'm not going to complain! Years of riding horses that jigged and wiggled and couldn't JUST WALK! on the trail sure makes my plod-along ride that much more appreciated.

Equine ADD

2010-08-27T10:50:00.003-05:00

Some horses you can toss out in a pasture for months and they are exactly the same when you pull them back out for a ride. This is Chief. He can go unridden and unused for weeks at a time and there is never a moment when he "forgets" that it's his job to take care of his young rider. He's steady, ready and willing to march along and do his steady-eddy thing.

Then there are those who need regular reminder sessions. I call them ADD horses. They remember what they want when they want and are very, very easily distracted. My old TB mare, Star, was this kind of horse. Loved her to death and she was always fun (if sometimes a significant challenge) but the training could be trying. She was really, really good at forgetting everything if she got more than two days off at a time. That third day was spent catching back up and reminding her of everything she'd completely put out of her silly little head. Give her a week or more off and I practically had to start all over again. Moving forward and progressing was often a trial in two steps forward, one step back.

Gabe, he falls somewhere in between the two. Ridden regularly, which for me is at least four days a week if the weather, the mud, the daylight and the farm-work cooperate while the planets align, he is a delight. I can build on what we learned before and keep moving forward. I very much like forward progression, especially when I can see the goal getting closer and closer.

If he gets a solid week off I have to spend at least one riding session just reminding him that yes, he does know how to turn and trot nicely and not leap around like he's mounted to a pogo stick. And honestly, it doesn't even have to be a riding session, just some time in the long reins gets the brain ticking along the right track again.

I have managed to ride four times this week and the results have been nothing short of wonderful. Each ride is a little better than the last, his mind is in the game for longer each ride and I feel like we are clicking more often. The lateral work last night was the best yet after I spent a few minutes on the ground reminding him to move away from the pressure before getting into the saddle.

Circles are feeling less like taking a corner on a motorcycle and more like powering through each stride balanced and upright, as it should be. He still seriously pops that shoulder and crooks the neck to the outside tracking left...but it's slowly, incrementally getting better.

He is getting quicker off my leg for transitions (a few well-timed reminders with the dressage whip fixed his extended response delay to transition up cues) and I find I'm using my reins less and less and he "hears" my body cues more and more.

Clicking, connecting, understanding. It's a beautiful thing.

The corn still freaks him out but I'm starting to think it's an excuse for him to be a silly boy and test me. The corn has gone from lush and green to dry, brown and quite loud in the breeze. Our cool-down walk along the driveway was interesting as he flicked his ears at the rustling sounds coming from the field and snorted at it more than a few times.

Getting him anywhere NEAR those rows was fun, but I managed to get him close enough to encourage him to touch his nose to a single dried leaf. And wouldn't you know it, when he touched it, it rustled and moved and OH MY GOD! Tried to EAT HIM! He can definitely move laterally, quite quickly and with much agility and athleticism. Now I need to figure out how to harness that power and athleticism so he will do the same thing when I ask, not just when the corn attacks him.

Pumping it up

2010-08-25T14:35:00.005-05:00

The summer heat has definitely taken it's toll on the energy of all the horses, especially Gabe, it seems.

You'd never guess he was an off-the-track five-year-old Thoroughbred by his behavior under saddle. He can sure be lazy, lazy, lazy. I rode last night and had to get after him a few times to keep moving instead of dribbling into a Western pleasure horse trot with his nose to the ground.

I started our session on the ground working on yielding to pressure, moving his body away from first the pressure of my closed fist, then the palm, then my fingertips, finally, the tickle of my dressage whip, all on the ground. He's getting it. Slowly but surely it's making sense to him. You can almost see the little light bulb above his head growing brighter with each little bit of understanding.

I needed to really pump up his energy because he was dragging butt. Big time. He took long, low and slow to a whole new level of plod-along. Now, I KNOW this horse has energy and FORWARD when he wants. He just didn't want to. I don't blame him, it was kinda hot and the horses haven't had much relief from the heat this summer.

But I needed him to move forward to get some of the work done I wanted to get done. Trot poles are a great way to get him up and forward and really moving, so we went over those a few times and I could feel him starting to perk up.

A few leg yields to the rail down the long side were acceptable considering he's just starting to "get it." I try never to "over-drill" in any one thing. Keep their minds active and in the game and you have a much better chance of actually getting through those skulls without boring the snot out of them.

Then, I threw in a twist. So far I've been pretty content to let him trot at his own tempo and pace as long as he keeps moving forward without dribbling into a walk. Last night, I pushed him hard into an extended trot down the long side, then slowed into a more collected trot around the corners. He wasn't quite sure what to think at first but offered when I asked...and I took it. A few good extended trots and he was feeling more powerful and energetic again. He, amazingly, rounded into the bridle and I could feel his back lift and his hind end tuck under to work that trot. And work it he did. His extended trot, while no where near show arena ready, was like flying. All that power at my fingertips, literally, is so freakin' exhilarating in so many way. Flying. That's what we were doing, we were soaring together in delightful harmony.

I am kind of surprised at how adjustable he is at this stage. I slow and lower my posting, he slows with me, matching me. I speed it up a bit and make it bigger, he matches me stride for stride. This isn't him rushing around with his head in the air just going faster and faster and faster with short, fast little strides. The tempo remained nearly the same, it was just BIGGER. Those who have ridden dressage school-masters know what I mean.

And we cantered. Have I mentioned I love his canter? Pretty sure I have...a few times. The most amazing, up, powerful, forward, comfortable canter I have ever ridden. And no giraffe neck with a horrible hollow back! He actually lifts and rounds like he's supposed to. Delightful. I could ride it all day long! We did a few up and down transitions between the trot and canter and he's really starting to understand what I'm asking and paying attention to me, those ears flicking back and forth constantly, waiting and asking what to do next.

Tonight will be a relaxing ride, I believe. We'll see how he's feeling, but I see a few trails through the woods in our future.

Happy trails!

The rearview

2010-08-24T09:06:00.006-05:00

We finally got a decent break in the heat and I was able to work Gabe a bit. Not in the saddle though. After Sunday's ride I decided we needed a bit more ground work on moving away from the leg and making circles without our head swung to the outside.

So we did just over an hour of groundwork in the long reins. It's great exercise for the "rider" to have to run along with the beast to get the work done! I was definitely dripping sweat more than he was by the time we accomplished some of the goals I had.

Long and low and relaxed. Look at how nicely he's marching forward! I almost have to jog to keep up with his working walk. I want to note that I do not have the long reins attached correctly for more advanced long rein work. I had them running through the rings of the surcingle and clipped directly to the bit because we were just working on turns and very, very low-level lateral movements. When I want to work him on correct bend, higher level lateral movements and really working that hind end I'll thread the reins through the bit and then clip the ends back to the surcingle on a higher ring where it will give a different action and effect on his mouth.

Starting to get a wee bit of hind end cross-over on lines. It took FOREVER to get just this little bit of sideways movement. Gabe is having a really hard time figuring out exactly what I'm asking when I nudge him over: It's like his brain just isn't connecting to the pressure on his side. He's the same way standing at the hitching post. He just doesn't get it when I tap him to move over. This issue is going to be my top priority until the little bells go off in his Thoroughbred mind and he has an "AH HA!" moment.

All in all, a good session. I got lots of hugs afterwards. This horse makes me so happy...I love his guts!

Is it fall yet?

2010-08-23T13:03:00.002-05:00

What I love most about summer: The heat.
What I hate most about summer: The heat.

I guess there's just no pleasing some people!

I look forward to every summer and the chance to ride every day if I feel like it. In my somewhat skewed memory, summers as a horse-crazy teen were dry and hot and windy — that hot, dusty summer smell mingling so perfectly with the scent of my mare's sweat sticky-slick on my shorts-clad legs and that delightful horse aroma enveloping me as we went wherever our imaginations would allow. The occasional dip in a nearby creek or swim across the river cooled our dusty skin. We dried quickly, that hot wind evaporating the water and the sweat and leaving us appropriately cooled in the process.

Heat has never bothered me.

But these summers in Illinois are different than those I grew up with in Kansas.

They are hot and disgusting: A sticky, wet, muggy, suffocating heat that leaves little energy or desire to do anything but sit around in the air conditioning and curse the summer. And that means very little energy to ride. The endless days of dangerous heat advisories haven't helped matters much as I pace inside and beg for a breeze, a dip in temperature, a cool fall morning.

There is no constant wind to dry the sweat. There is only sweat that soaks and drips and drenches and clothes that cling uncomfortably to every inch of covered skin. There is no relief, just relentless, brutal heat.

My horses come in from the pasture drenched in sweat and drooping from the tips of their ears to the ends of their tails. The horse flies have been absolutely unforgiving this summer and no amount or brand of fly spray deters them. Who wants to ride when the horse is already exhausted and miserable? Not me.

I just want to ride. I need to ride. I dream about riding. I rode Sunday but it was a short ride just to get on and do my soul good. It did a lot of good but I need more!

I hate Illinois summers. Hate. Them.

You see, the bitter cold I can deal with. As long as my face isn't getting frostbitten, I'm outside. The dry heat I can deal with. This boil-water-on-your-skin and suck the life out of you humidity? Not so much.

Please fall, arrive soon? I miss you much. I'm so totally over summer.

OH, that mareish squeal!

2010-07-20T09:40:00.003-05:00

Mares or geldings?

I have always had mares, always loved mares and appreciated their attitude and yes, even sympathized with their hormonal issues. After all, I have the same issues: Attitude, bitchiness and extended hormonal moments that amount to extreme moodiness.

I've always assumed I'll never have anything but mares. When I was looking for another horse after Star died, I was looking for mares. I didn't give geldings a passing glance. The experience I'd had with geldings amounted to horses that were overly compliant, slow and maybe a little on the dumb side. You could ask them to jump off a cliff and they would.

Mares, on the other hand, present a challenge. You ask a mare nicely, sometimes you even have negotiations with a mare. You never tell a mare without repercussions. They resent unfairness and tend to hold grudges. I like that in my horses. I didn't want a horse that was predictable all the time. How boring and mind-numbing is that?

But when I saw Gabe it was over. Gelding or not, he was the one and I knew it instantly. I almost didn't even go look at him because he had the wrong "parts." I'm glad I did. I knew he was different than the other geldings I'd had experience with. He is a gelding with a bit of a stallion attitude. He presents just enough of a challenge to keep me on my toes, but at the same time, he is different than a mare. I pretty much know what to expect from him from day to day. There are no mood swings or bitchiness, there is the occasional teen-like attitude from him, but if you finesse him a bit and point him down the right path, he complies with little grumbling. He's just testing his boundaries I do believe and I don't mind. He isn't the type of gelding I've run into in the past...he isn't the typical "tell a gelding" kind of guy. We have negotiations and discussions but they are reasonable. He just asks that I be fair and I just ask that he put in a good effort and as long as both sides understand the rules, we get along fabulously.

I don't have to wash his tail and back legs every other month due to mare-ish grossness. But I really can do without the sheath cleaning...ewww...stinky!

The more I watch Calypso out in the pasture really being bossy and bitchy to both geldings, the more I don't want to have one in my little herd of boys and the more I understand why so many large barns keep their mares and geldings separated. Mares are shit-disturbers. I've seen her go out of her way to chase Gabe around. We have fairly good-sized pastures and she'll go all the way to the OTHER side of the field just to move Gabe around, not because he's wandered too close, not because he's being obnoxious towards her, but simply because she can. I think that once she is taken out of the herd the two boys will get along fabulously. She's an instigator, she's a hussy with no qualms about playing both sides of the proverbial fence...she's buddy-buddy with Gabe one hour, the next hour, he's getting the stink eye and she's rubbing all over Chief like he's all that and a bag of chips.

I still love mares. I still like their personality and their attitudes and their witchiness...but I think I'm at a time in my life when I need a little less drama in the arena and on the trail, and right now, Gabe is my perfect match.

On the trails

2010-07-06T14:07:00.005-05:00

A friend came over to ride with me Monday and we ended up logging at least 10 miles on the ponies before 10 a.m.

All three of the beasties got to participate in the trail trek: Me on Gabe, Kayleigh on Chief and my friend Jacquie tooled around on Calypso. I loved having someone to ride with, someone I didn't have to constantly remind to shorten up her reins or pay attention to her surroundings or put her heels down. Love riding with my kid, don't get me wrong, but sometimes it sure is nice to ride with an experienced rider I don't have to worry about.

So, out we went, the horses seemed pleased to be going out together and were quite happy to travel along three abreast. We headed down the road and into the bottoms which is all farmland with roads running between the fields.

Gabe was a little looky loo at ditches and rocks and stumps, oh my! But he was good. He tried to pull his "I'm gonna back up because I don't wanna go forward where YOU want me to go forward" crap a few times and he got a couple of good, smart smacks with the whip and it set him straight.

Chief was excellent, as usual. Just plodded along, head down, ears flopping to the side, lip loose and relaxed. I swear I saw him fall asleep a few times.

Calypso...whoo. That little mare needs a few more miles under her belt. She was a handful for Jacquie, spooking at everything, going with her head high and her strides short and choppy. Guess I need to get my butt in gear and put those miles on her before I try to sell her.

We took advantage of some of the long, flat stretches of dirt road and did some extended trotting and a bit of cantering. Gabe loved it so much he had to toss a few good twisty bucks in there! What fun! I laughed at him in his silliness, got him straightened out and gave him a good wither rub for being such a good, albeit silly, boy.

We crossed two wide, quickly flowing creeks. Gabe had no problem at all getting his feet wet. In fact, he stood in the second one and pawed and pawed and pawed, which I let him do, until I felt those knees starting to buckle. OH NO YOU DON'T! I had a pony who used to drop and roll in every puddle and creek we crossed...I wasn't about to let my big Thoroughbred do the same! Nudge to go forward. No reaction. Nudge, Nudge. Nope. He kept pawing and snorting and sticking his nose in the water to blow bubbles. Ugh.

I had to break out the whip again to get that booger OUT of the water. I mean, seriously, how often does that happen? Usually I'm breaking out the whip to get them to move forward into the water!

At least I know water crossings are not an item on his phobia list. Whew!

By the time we got back home we were all pleasantly tired and sweaty. The horses were excellent, the company fantastic. I'm so ready to do it again soon and it definitely made me realize how very much I miss riding with adults.

Move along, move along now!

2010-07-02T13:11:00.004-05:00

Oh, was he ever a good boy. I mean, a really, really good boy. Aside from having developed a serious lazy side, we had an absolutely awesome ride Thursday evening.

What is up with the laziness? I mean really. Gabe...in case no one bothered to tell you, you're a THOROUGHBRED. Which means you're supposed to like to go forward at a faster pace than a drunken snail. Sometimes I feel like I'm riding a dead-sided warmblood or a plod-along drafty. Seriously. Move it! Pick up those feet. When there are hoof drag lines in the dirt behind you...that's you being a great big lazy lug.

I assure you there is absolutely nothing physically wrong with him, he just doesn't feel like doing much. He responds to my requests, he just does it at his own pace!

I very briefly considered strapping on a pair of spurs to deal with this lazy issue, but quickly quashed that idea. Spurs are not to be used for forward, they are for sideways. So, I'm upping my expectations of what he offers as "forward" and I'm going to make that lazy boy work for his meals. He is slow off the leg and want him to be ELECTRIC off the leg, which means I'll be employing the use of my dressage whip a little more often than I do now.

The cornfield was not an issue and the telephone poles barely warranted a second glance. I guess the time I took to really get him to look at them and think about those things stuck. Thank goodness the boy has a brain. He might not have get up and go, but at least he has a brain!

The more we work the canter the more I realize he was regularly worked in draw reins on the track, which isn't a surprise to me at all. I hate, hate, hate draw reins and I hate even more trying to undo the curled neck created by draw reins. It is not an easy nor fun task. But, I have been working on it.

So, onward we go! Goals: Energize the gaits, keep working on the lateral response and get him out and about even more. The more we see and experience, the better he is!

As the sun rises

2010-07-01T08:43:00.005-05:00

The weather here has been absolutely phenomenal for the last couple of days: Down into the 60s at night and a tad bit chilly in the morning. Perfect riding weather!

Wednesday morning the kiddo and I set out bright and early on Chief and Calypso for a nice little trail ride before I had to leave for work. The world is so amazing and fresh and beautiful at 5 a.m. when the sun is just starting to peek up over the horizon and the birds are waking.

Of course, the ride always begins with grooming! She has some trouble reaching his back, but he's patient.

Saddle? We don't need no stinking saddle!

I love the trails we have to ride on. Lovely, especially in the morning. Look! Calypso is listening to me! She was a good girl. Fat and out of shape, but good. Please forgive the mud "beads" in her forelock. She wouldn't let me get them out yet insists on rolling in the biggest mud puddle she can find each and every time. Little pig.

Oooohhh...someone was NOT very happy with me for leaving him behind. If a horse could be jealous, I'm pretty sure he was.

Monsters in the cornfield

2010-06-24T08:37:00.004-05:00

The cornfield is suspect.

He Who Walks Between The Rows may be watching, waiting, licking his lips in anticipation of sweet horse flesh.

The cornfield is especially worrisome when it just kind of pops up out of nowhere and changes the entire familiar scenery. It might even send a silly thoroughbred in to spasms of absolute terror.

Once again I was up with the sun and on my beast. This time, I had company. My youngest daughter cheerfully got up with me and was riding Chief bareback. He's such a gem and worth twice his weight in gold.

We did a few minutes of warm-up arena work and headed on out for a quick trail ride before I had to leave for work.

Down the driveway and into the woods we went, Gabe looking at everything, spooking at bunnies, ears flipping all over the place, mouth foaming like crazy, working that bit like a wad of Juicy Fruit and a whole lot of bouncy, bouncy Tigger-like action in his step. I swear he installed springs on his hooves over night.

Yesterday I mentioned to someone that Gabe has two personalities: He either is on his best behavior and takes care of me or he flips a switch and tries to kill me. You never really know what you're going to get. It's just goofy thoroughbred stuff, nothing malicious and actually, I enjoy the challenge he presents each and every day.

Today he was in kill me mode.

The last time I took him out along the driveway the corn was knee-high. We have corn fields along the driveway and corn fields across the road.

This time it was well over his head. The heat and the rain have done enormous favors for the corn!

He didn't like that ONE BIT. Wide-eyed and snorty, bouncy, bouncy, dancing sideways, wiggle-worming all around the place with every breeze that rustled the leaves and gave him peeks of the monsters lurking behind the rows.

Then he suddenly realized the scenery across the road had changed. He could no longer see for miles and miles across open, flat fields. It was a wall of waving, rustling, terrifying green.

He freaked out. Spin and run AWAY! Ok. You want to be a turd? Fine. Circle, circle, circle you big nutjob. I could feel him shaking beneath me and he grew from 16.2hh to about 18hh. Then, he refused to budge. Would NOT go forward towards the Great Wall of Corn and the menace lurking behind the rows. Would not turn. Just stood. And stared. And slobbered.

The ride ended up longer than I'd intended, but with persistence and patience, we slowly edged our way up to the corn: Two steps forward...four steps back, spin and snort. When we finally made it to the edge of the field I let him take a bite of a stalk and that eased his silly little mind. Typical male...win over his mind through his stomach.

Thankfully Chief just stood staring at Gabe's antics like he'd lost his mind. Which he kinda had. I'm pretty sure I saw Chief sigh and shake his head a few times, an old geezer fed up with teenage behavior. Thank goodness Chief is as non-reactive and quiet as he is or poor Kayleigh would have either ended up in the dirt or been a little mad at me for making her ride less than enjoyable.

So, we have defeated the Cornfield Monster and the Gates To Hell. I wonder what's next on our "OH MY GOD!! INSTANT DEATH!" list of things to conquer? hehe!

O'dark Thirty

2010-06-23T09:02:00.002-05:00

Funny how early 5 a.m. seems to come. And how hard it is to get out of bed when the sun is barely peeking above the horizon. But, get out of bed I did to get into my breeches and boots and take the big guy out for a spin.

It was still a bit hot and humid out even at that early hour, but far less oppressive than waiting until evening. But it heated up FAST. By the time the sun was fully visible I could feel the temperature rising minute by minute and I was so glad I got up before the sun.

That horse is definitely an ex-racehorse. He loves his morning workouts and really listens better in the morning. But he also showed me exactly why he is an EX-racehorse.

What a lazy bones booger-head he was! Drag, drag, drag along. Shuffle those feet, amble the walk. Seriously. I thought I was riding a dead-broke, 30-year-old quarter horse or something. My legs got a serious workout just keeping him moving! And of course, I forgot to grab my dressage whip because I was in such a rush to get up and get riding before I had to leave for work.

All in all, it was a good ride. I squeezed him up into a trot and he offered a very nice canter instead, so I went with it and just let him go. I figured if he was gonna be a lazy-pants, I'd let him give me as much forward movement as he wanted to give! Such a glorious canter he has, too. Ground-eating, smooth, delicious and addictive.

I only worked him for just about 45 minutes. It was starting to get hot and I didn't want to push him too much. Our last 15 minutes or so was spent on lateral work and moving away from my leg as soon as I ask. No ifs, ands or buts about it. If he feels my leg tapping, he'd better ask how far and how fast before he asks why should I? Our little telephone pole/truck episode made me realize I really, really need to work his booty off on the lateral/move away from my leg stuff. I've let it slide for too long and now I need to get it done and get it done right before we do anything else.

The morning ride brought back some delightful memories. When I was in high school, living in Kansas, I'd get up at the butt-crack of dawn during the summer so I could ride before the heat became unbearable. Sometimes, I'd get up and ride before school too. A fabulous way to start the day!

Those were some of the best rides ever. I'd take my little mare, Sunny, out for a gallop. No endless circles or dressage or silly arena work for us. We'd run and jump anything in our path: Logs, ditches, downed trees, discarded railroad ties, tires, hay bales in the field. We jumped a little junked car before the weeds grew up around it and hid it from view. Sometimes bareback. Sometimes bareback with just a halter and leadrope. Sometimes we'd go down to the river for a swim. I wasn't SUPPOSED to, but I did any way. I cherish those memories and that wonderful little mare. She never asked why should I? She just did. Everything I asked, she never balked and we had some of the best times ever.

One day Gabe will get past the why should I? phase and we can start filling our own book full of delightful memories and experiences.

When it's scorching

2010-06-21T13:01:00.004-05:00

Holy wow it's hot. Really, really hot. Excessive heat warning hot, horses standing around sweating hot. Water tanks bath-water warm by the end of the day.

What do you do when it's so hot you barely want to step outside yet you absolutely long to ride? Smart people get up with the sun to ride.

Not so smart people complain about not being able to ride because it's too bloody hot.

Guess what category I'm in?

Yeah. The not so smart one. I keep meaning to get up at the buttcrack of dawn to get a ride in while it's still bearable out. But that dang snooze button is far too close to my bed to make a 5 a.m. ride reality very often. I've only managed it a couple of times and each time I've been so pleased with myself and had such a wonderful ride.

Instead I get home from work in the afternoon and watch my horses graze, wishing I could ride. Wanting to go for a gallop and feel the wind blowing across my face. I'd say through my hair, too, but I'm just old enough to know I'm no longer invincible and I always wear my hard hat.

The horses are gross. I think they'll all get showers tonight. I may not be able to ride, but I sure can cool 'em off and clean 'em up. Last night they came in from the pasture dripping with sweat and of course, my sweet, gray darling found the muddiest spot he could locate in his paddock and rolled. He is now dirt-colored and crusty. Ugh. But the bonus is he's so gross the flies can't tell where the ground ends and he begins. Nasty beast.

I always have mineral blocks out for them but during the summer, they get electrolytes in their evening feed too. I just don't think they are able to lick enough salt off those blocks to make up for what they are losing standing out there dripping. As much as the heat sucks, I'll take the heat over the endless mud any day of the year!

Happy trails...I hope I'm out there on them bright and early tomorrow morning!

The Gates to Hell

2010-06-08T10:07:00.004-05:00

Gabe wants me to tell you: Telephone poles are the gateways to hell and I am the devil incarnate.

Just so you know. Because he's still a bit peeved with me I do believe.

It was again a nice early morning ride. The arena work: Mostly workmanlike and fabulous. He did a little bit of playing around in the beginning but nothing unexpected and nothing I couldn't deal with. The arena was still a bit muddy so we did some big circle trot work, some lateral work and practiced transitions and length of stride within the gaits. We did no cantering because he still gets a little squirrely on circles and I didn't really want us to end up on our butts in the mud because he couldn't keep his legs under him on the corners.

So, out we go, down my driveway and along the back road. Which is rarely traveled, especially early in the morning. We walked and trotted a bit and he was good. Neck stretched down, back up, hind end working like a well-oiled machine, looking around but listening. Snorting at quail and rabbits, but paying attention to me.

In the distance I could see a truck rumbling towards us. A good-sized pickup. First vehicle we'd seen that morning so I scooted him way over into the ditch along the road. The grass has not been cut yet this year so it's high enough to tickle his belly and, well, hide things.

The truck is still coming at us and I spotted them as soon as Gabe did. A double whammy. A pair of telephone poles lying partially hidden across the ditch in the deep grass.

With flapping orange ribbons tied to them and a plastic bag caught on the edge of one of them, moving like a demented amoeba in the breeze.

I could almost hear him thinking: "THE GATES TO HELL!!! RUN SIDEWAYS NOW!!!" He had himself so convinced he could most likely smell the sulfur-breathing demons within, waiting to devour his sweet horsey flesh.

Oh. Crap. I felt him tense and grow about 6 inches taller so I laid a leg on him to keep him from scooting into the road and into the path of that oncoming truck.

That turd blew right through my leg and right in front of the truck while giving those horse-eating telephone poles gigantic googly eyes and big snorty nostrils.

Thank goodness I live on a road where most motorists are used to seeing walkers, bikers or riders on the shoulder.

With a big, dumbass Thoroughbred blowing through my aids I decided my only option was to wave my arms and my dressage whip around in the air like a lunatic and hope the driver recognized my attempt at a "SLOW DOWN!" signal for what it was.

She did. She hit those brakes hard, squealed the tires a bit and put my heart in my throat where it nearly strangled me. I couldn't breath.

We didn't get hit. That would have been painful and probably messy and would have ruined my whole day.

After she passed us the road was quiet and empty again and I turned to tackle those poles. Because spooking at poles and blowing through my leg is absolutely unacceptable and dangerous. Period. End of story.

He thought his work was over. He thought we were just out for a nice, relaxing ride.

He had another think coming.

Because for the next 25 minutes we went over, around and along those telephone poles until all he wanted to do was sit down on one and catch his everlovin' breath.

Telephone poles are no longer the gates to hell.

But I'm pretty sure I'm now his version of Satan.

The Barbie dream horse

2010-05-31T20:09:00.002-05:00

There is something to be said about riding different horses whenever the opportunity presents itself. Sure, I LOVE to ride Gabe, he's my number one guy, but sometimes, a girl's got to shake it up a little bit to keep things spicy.

But today I got to ride the cutest little Palomino mare whose prior life was as a gaming horse. She looks like Dallas, the Barbie horse that every little girl drooled over and dreamed about having: Long, luxurious blond mane and tail and gleaming coat that shone like a brand new golden coin.

She's a sweet, kind little mare who is always trying to please. A pleasant change from a gelding who is more apt to ask "Why the heck should I?" instead of just replying with "Ok! Here we go! More? Less? Good?"

Chipper belongs to a friend of mine and we went for a trail ride early Monday morning. The weather was wonderful, a slight breeze. But the bugs, ugh. The bugs. Poor ponies were absolutely miserable with biting flies and deer flies when we got down near the woods in the bottoms.

This was the first time I've ridden Chipper and it was so much fun being on a gaming pony again. A touch of the rein on her neck and she was OVER there. A shift back in the saddle and she was stopping, an ear tipped back questioningly...Stop? Slow? What do you want? I'll give! A slight tap with my leg and she was ready to go as fast and as far as I wanted her to. She definitely made me aware of how much I use my leg...apparently, too much for her sensitive sides.

She was almost looking for barrels to run and if I'd had some, I'd have let her run 'em as much as she wanted! All I had to do was ask.

Sometimes I miss running barrels and poles with my old quarter pony Blaze or my little quarter mare, Sunny. Such a rush!

I'm definitely looking forward to riding her again. Maybe next time, we'll find a barrel or two and give her a good run for her money. Yeehaw!

The morning type

2010-05-23T21:01:00.002-05:00

I have discovered that Gabe is a morning horse.

We went from winter to summer over night and I knew the day would quickly become hot, humid and absolutely unbearable well before noon so I decided to haul myself out of bed at the crack of dawn to get my ride in.

I was on the big gray beast before 6 a.m. It was gorgeous out: Cool, quiet and a perfectly beautiful morning. I stepped outside and Gabe nickered in his low, growly feeding time voice, ears pricked at me and probably wondering why I had no feed buckets in my hands

I almost felt bad for pulling him out of his paddock before the sun even began peeking above the horizon. But only for a few minutes. He dropped his head into his halter and seemed quite eager to get the show on the road, which surprised me.

I just never imagined him as much of a morning pony.

He was fabulous. Workmanlike, giving, eager and responsive. It was probably the best ride we've had yet. And I loved the peace and quiet, knowing everyone else in the house was still sleeping and I was getting uninterrupted, wonderful time with my big guy.

He was so good I took him out for a trail ride. We were only out for about half an hour but he was so, so good. No spooks, no prancing and dancing and being silly.

Just a steady horse marching along, looking around and really paying attention. The only thing he gave a few glances to were the cows gathered up around the fence along the road. But a few taps with the dressage whip and we were on our way. I talked to him the entire time, and his ears kept flicking back at me as if he were really listening.

By the time we headed back to the house his head was low, his body swinging and relaxed and he was walking with purpose without rushing. It was an absolutely delightful ride.

I need longer reins if we're going to keep doing this! I need about 5 more inches of rein so I'm not throwing my arms as far forward as they will go and then leaning forward just to give him the room he needs to really stretch down.

What a good boy. What a good, good boy.

I think I'm going to have to start getting up at the butt-crack of dawn more often just to ride.

By 8 a.m. it was disgusting out. I was dripping sweat just by being outside and the air had already become heavy and thick.

Welcome to Southern Illinois summers!

Do they love?

2010-05-21T09:24:00.004-05:00

I'm just as guilty of anthropomorphizing my animals, especially my horses, as the next person. I assign human feelings and emotions to them constantly, even though deep inside I know they don't feel those things the same way we do. I've even been known to talk in what I imagine their voices to be to describe a feeling or thought I've assigned to them at the moment.

But I often wonder if horses can feel love, or at least, affection. Or are they just looking to you for leadership and safety?

Gabe really made me wonder this morning about what he actually feels towards me. I know he trusts me enough to know I won't hurt him. He comes up to me every time I'm near or in his paddock, so he obviously enjoys being near me.

Or, perhaps it's the pocket full of peppermints he's craving.

But this morning was different.

I turned all three out into the pasture. They all follow me up the hill and through the gate to the grass, then typically, they all take off like they've been cooped up for MONTHS, running and bucking and chasing each other. Silly beasts.

However, this morning, Gabe didn't take off with the other two. He followed me to the gate, nudging my back a few times until I stopped to scratch his favorite itchy places. He makes the greatest faces when he gets a good scratch...I'll have to try to get a photo sometime. His eyes have actually rolled up into his head a few times and he drools out of wrinkled, contorted lips.

So, I complied with a few scratches and turned to the gate again to leave.

This time he moved up quickly behind me and dropped his head over my shoulder as if to stop me. He had his head completely over my shoulder and nudged his chin against my chest in a "come back here" kind of motion.

I stopped, scratched his itchy places again, told him what a silly nut he was and suggested he go eat some good, green grass.

Again, I moved to leave and again, he tried to stop me, this time with his chin on my shoulder. I turned around to playfully chastise him and he immediately pressed his forehead against my chest...not rubbing, just standing there with his head on me.

He sighed deeply and half-closed his eyes.

It was quite moving in a way only horse people can understand. My heart swelled with adoration for this big, gray horse.

By the time I was done scratching and petting and whispering sweet nothings in his ear my work clothes were covered with gray hairs and my hands and nails dark with his body grime.

If I didn't know better, I'd say the big goofball loves me. At least a little bit.

Waiting for it

2010-05-19T21:06:00.003-05:00

Having been out of the saddle for the past couple of weeks due to torrential downpours, out-of-town trips and soul-sucking mud, tacking Gabe up tonight was a whole lot like standing in line waiting for my turn to ride the biggest, fastest, most heart-pounding roller coaster ever made.

Yes, there were butterflies. But not the BAD butterflies, the good ones. The ones that bang around in your belly in unveiled anticipation and excitement.

I was ready to ride my big, silly boy, no matter what he threw at me. I flung a leg over his back, settled quietly in the saddle and waited. Typically, if he's going to put on his bad boy pants and have a little fun at my expense, it starts at the mounting block with a squeal, a hop and a head fling and he bounces away from the block.

So, I waited.

And waited some more. Then a little more.

And heaved a giant sigh, releasing all those excited little butterflies as I nudged him into a walk and he immediately complied. His head dropped, the neck stretched and he exhaled heavily, seconds after I did, tipping an ear back to me as if to ask "All right, what now? I'm ready! Let's get to it."

We nailed the trot to halts, halts to trot, from rein back directly lifting in trot, beautiful. He really gave and stretched in the circles stepping far far far under himself with his back end. We floated around the arena...oh my. What a TROT! It's exhausting because it's so POWERFUL, but it's so delightful to ride. You can't help but swell with pride and grin like an idiot as you cruise around on a horse with a trot like that. We extended and collected the walk by seat only. Yes, I threw away the reins for more than a few moments at a time and trusted him to not take advantage. We side passed left, side passed right. Halted square, cantered both directions and completed one very decent simple lead change across the center line. We did a turn on haunches and several quite correct shoulder ins.

Our canter departs need work. But after all we accomplished today? That's small stuff.

I have a strong feeling we would do quite admirably at a dressage show this summer should we make it to one.

He twitched an ear in the direction of Chief and Calypso when they decided to take off hell-bent-for-leather, bucking and kicking at each other in the pasture next to the arena. Nothing but an ear wiggle towards them was all he gave. I could have hugged his guts out.

Every time I ride he surprises me and I fall even more head over heels for him. Because not only does he have the beauty and brawn, but dangit, I lucked out and got one with brains too!

Why yes, he's mine!

2010-05-16T15:44:00.003-05:00

Thanks to the incessant rain I haven't been able to ride for about a week. The arena has stayed muddy, and while I CAN ride in the mud, I choose not to. I have a grass arena and those divots don't do much for the overall surface of the arena. Besides, riding a horse overly concerned about their footing is not very productive and really, not much fun.

Gabe was amazing on our last ride. Quiet, really working through, dropping his head and raising his back while really working that hind end and responding nicely to my requests for shoulders in around the corners. We've been working half halts, too, and those are getting better and better.

There was no head tossing, silly spooking or sudden forward and unexpected movements. There was no "teenage snottiness" when I asked for something, no "Yeah? Really? Why should I? I don't really want to and you can't really make me, you weak little midget," attitude from him at all.

It was the fifth such ride since winter ended and the horses went out on grass pasture full time. My pastures are lush enough that I don't have to supplement hay at all. They go out for 12 hours, come in for their evening meal and stay in for the night, and go out again in the morning. And Calypso...she's a freaking air fern. She's getting just about a handful of oats and pellets and she's still getting FAT. And I never, in my entire life, thought I'd own a fat Thoroughbred.

As I was riding last week and Gabe was so FABULOUS it suddenly hit me...he's been absolutely wonderful since they've been on grass and not getting any alfalfa at all. None. I feed a 95% alfalfa mix through the winter. They need the extra energy to stay warm and I'd rather have my horses come on the other end of winter fat rather than too thin.

Since I've had horses in Illinois I've always fed an alfalfa mix hay...usually mostly alfalfa with a few wisps of grass here and there. We live in an area that is heavy on the dairy cattle and so alfalfa is just what's most readily available and inexpensive...that's what I feed.

Because I've always fed alfalfa, I've also always discounted the belief that alfalfa makes horses silly and hot.

I'm rethinking that idea.

It didn't really hit me until after the last ride that Gabe was almost a completely different horse since being off the alfalfa. Quiet, workmanlike and willing, no matter what I asked of him. I'm not saying he's hot and crazy otherwise, just tends to behave a heavily on the "baby" side with the silliness and spooking and head flinging.

On the other hand, it could also be that they are out in a huge field for 12 hours a day and now he's having to constantly be on his guard and watching out for Chief and Calypso instead of just standing in his paddock quietly and alone. Seems they ALL do a lot more running and bucking in the pasture than they ever do in the paddocks.

So, who knows the root of the attitude change...could be one or the other, could be a little bit of both. Could be a bit of maturity finally entering his silly little boy brain.

But I do know one thing...when he's on and listening...he's HOLY WOW!!! I ride around the arena grinning from ear to ear and just so thrilled with every huge, powerful stride he takes. There is more than one moment that passes that I have to shake my head in amazement thinking that "Wow! He's MINE!"

Then cold terror rushes through me as I think about screwing up his training so bad that I ruin him forever.

But, the moment passes and I continue to grin like a mad woman.

I'm surprised I don't come back from the ride with gnats stuck in my teeth more often.

Mow, mow, mow your pasture

2010-04-30T09:38:00.004-05:00

When you have your horses at home you end up spending more time maintaining, repairing, feeding, cleaning and building than you actually do riding.

I'd say I put in four hours of farm work for every one hour I ride.

But I'm not complaining...I love it and would have it no other way! I love looking at my shiny, plump, healthy, happy horses in a safe, secure home and know that I did that, no one else. Me. Just me.

Sure, it can be a pain in the butt when I really, really want to ride and the weather is perfect, but when that fence in the upper pasture needs tightening or the pasture needs mowed, the work comes first and the horses watch with knowing little grins on their faces.

The herd has been out on our three acre pasture for about a month now and it was time to mow and rotate. When the grass is good I don't have to feed hay at all, which is so nice on the checkbook!

But keeping good pastures requires intensive maintenance and conscientious rotation.

Why?

Well, the simple answer is: Horses are jerks who can't eat down a pasture efficiently.

The long answer is: Horses will eat their favorite grasses/legumes first and eat them down to the dirt. Once they do that, you might as well forget about having a decent pasture because down to the dirt grass/legumes gives weeds an excellent opportunity to move in and take up residence. And they do it faster than you can say "weed 'n feed!"

A horse pasture has "roughs" and "greens."

Roughs are where they poo and they won't eat where they go if they have any choice at all. Greens are where they graze the field down to nothing. If you don't mow the roughs and spread the poo around they will never graze there...ever. And the beautiful green grass will just grow and grow and grow as they greens turn into bare, weedy patches.

So, you end up with a "lumpy" pasture...swaths of grass eaten down to the dirt with weeds moving in and patches where the grass is gorgeous and the horses avoid like the plague. At some point the grasses start developing seed heads...and as soon as that happens the grass begins losing a significant amount of nutrition. And what's the point of having horses on pasture if they aren't getting the nutrients they need from it?

That's when you mow and rotate. Keeping it mowed keeps it nutritious and keeps the weeds to a minimum.

Some people like to mow it tall, 6" or so. I mow short, 3.5" to 4" because I like to spread the poo with the mower and knock down as many grasses with seed heads as I can. And I get immense amount of satisfaction when I obliterate the weeds. I've been known to laugh wickedly as the thick, green leaves of a patch of curly dock go flying in little pieces. I HATE CURLY DOCK! HATRED. And it is so hard to get rid of and is hell on the grasses.

Plus, I just really, really like the look of a nicely mowed field. It gives me warm fuzzies.

Last night I mowed the three acre field...it takes about an hour, maybe a little more depending on how tall I've allowed the roughs to become. The roughs were pretty thick and I was flinging poo EVERYWHERE! Take that, greens, have a little obliterated poo!

This morning I opened the gate to our other pasture, another four acre field that is chock full of good, thick, green grasses. They haven't been on that field yet this year. We have clover, alfalfa, orchard grass, timothy, fescue and brome in the field and very, very few weeds. It's LOVELY! The horses barely got through the gate before they dropped heads and tucked in with gusto. Nom nom nom! Grass is GOOD!

Yes. We have fescue. We have LOTS of fescue. Fescue is a good, hardy grass that is drought and stress tolerant and is perfectly suitable and nutritious for horses. It's just not good to feed if you are running pregnant mares. Which I don't and will NEVER have.

I'll keep them off the small pasture for about a month...then mow the field they are on now and rotate them back onto the small pasture. I have two more chunks of pasture (another 3-4 acre field and a 2 acre field) that I need to get fenced this summer. I can't wait to have more pastures to rotate, because the longer I can rest pastures between rotations, the better the grasses will be in the long run.

When we moved to our farm four years ago the pasture was nothing but tall, tall weeds. Some sections of the pasture had weeds that were taller than ME! The previous owner did NOT maintain them at all and did not rotate. It was just one big field surrounded by rusty, sagging barbed wire

I removed all the wire and all the posts and got to work getting the pasture horse-ready. It has taken four years to get these fields to the point where they CAN support three horses as a main food source during the summer and not end up looking like a barren wasteland. I must say, they are gorgeous now. Gorgeous.

But it takes a lot of attention to details, a lot of work and diligent pasture rotation to have beautiful pastures. Yes, I even go out there and walk the pastures, pulling up weeds by hand, filling in holes, looking for poisonous plants and kicking poo piles to spread them between mowings.

It's work I enjoy and it makes every hour in the saddle that much more precious.

But watching my horses knee deep in a lush field stuffing their faces with good food?

Priceless.

Taking a beating

2010-04-29T09:47:00.003-05:00

My poor big baby.

He got the shit kicked out of him yesterday and is now sporting a dozen or so big bumps, bruises and scrapes all over the side of his body. Even his boy bits weren't immune to the kick-fest. A hoof caught him right on his weinie and the sheath is swollen and sore. I feel so bad for him, but at the same time, so thankful none of those kicks made contact with his legs! He does have a rather large hematoma on the muscle (biceps femoris) above his gaskin and it's sore, sore, sore, but he's not lame. I'm going to keep an eye on it and if it doesn't go down fairly soon, the vet will be called. Poor baby.

When I turn all three out in the big pastures they are fine together. Gabe has room to get away from mean ole Calypso and bossy boy Chief when they give him "that look." And he can definitely outrun them any day of the week, so there haven't been any major kicking issues. But when they all wander down into the mud lots and into the run-ins, that's when the dirty business begins.

You see, Gabe is a lover. He's not a fighter. He won't kick back and prefers to get the hell out of Dodge when one of the other horses gives him a look or lays back an ear. He's happy at the bottom of the totem pole. He's happy with just being allowed to wander close to them every now and again.

Until he becomes a kicking bag.

Calypso cornered Gabe in his run-in yesterday and beat the crap out of him. So badly they busted a 2X6 and practically removed an entire sheet of siding from his shed. His shed has 3 and a half sides, so there's an enclosed area for him to get out of the wind, rain, sun, whatever. He likes his house a lot. He sleeps in there, he hangs out in there, eats in there and considers it a safe place to be.

Yesterday his safe place became a beating zone. He was so traumatized by the whole thing he wouldn't even go back in there to eat last night without plenty of coaxing and a couple of carrots.

That won't happen again. I closed the gate to the mud lot this morning when I turned them out so there will be no more cornering Gabe in his run-in and whaling on him like a red-headed stepchild.

Inexplicably, I was PISSED at Calypso (she was witnessed committing the foul kicking deed against my big guy). I know she's just being a horse doing what horses do, but still, he tries so hard to GET AWAY and move out of her way and she was just being, quite frankly, a bitch.

I was going to ride Gabe tonight. We had a FABULOUS session Monday and I was looking forward to more today. His inside hind was stepping under, under, under and pushing beautifully around corners, responding to my inside leg tap, tap, tap, tapping him. He lifted that back and belly like you wouldn't believe and stretched nicely into the bridle. He even quit with the bit fiddling long enough to really listen and pay attention, ears flicking back from time to time, listening...thinking...responding. It was so invigorating and inspiring!

But with him being rather body sore today I won't ride. Instead, she gets to fill in for him. And she needs A LOT of work.

You want me to....WHAT?

2010-04-21T10:06:00.003-05:00

Gabe showed his racehorse background over the weekend. No, he didn't take off with me nor did he act like the woods were going to eat him alive.

Instead, he displayed his green bean status when we came across a series of all too unfamiliar earthen obstacles that had him completely befuddled. He didn't know what to do with his body!

There is a barren strip of land on the backside of our property that runs for MILES in either direction. This is where a new oil pipeline was put in last fall and the path is wide, straight and dirt. However, the workers also constructed a series of low earthen berms along the length of it to prevent erosion. The berms are more like ramps...a gentle slope up one side leading to an 18" to 2' drop on the other side.

Heading out we stepped up the drop and walked down the ramp. No problem at all for Gabe and excellent exercise for that developing booty and topline.

However, the way back was a different story as we had to take the berms ramp first and step down.

Game over. The first step down sent him into a head-flinging nearly nose-breaking hissy fit in which he tried to gallop off sideways after the step down. I know it was because he couldn't figure out how to balance himself. He does something very similar down low hills, but not quite so extreme. I've been working on getting him to push his butt under himself going down hill while staying as balanced over his center as I can. Over and over again we stepped down off the edge and he flung his head up as soon as his front end and hind end were at different elevations. As soon as the hind end hit the lower elevation, the attempt to take off sideways ensued. Staying nicely balanced over his center became a challenge!

Yes, I popped him in the mouth the first couple of times he tried to connect his head with my face. I have had that experience and been knocked out due to a horse skull smashing into my face and I have no wish to ever repeat that again. So, I popped him and I felt bad for it but he cannot do that, period.

The next time I take him out there he will be wearing the running martingale so he can pop himself immediately AND so he can't smash my face should he decide to play the head tossing game again.

I am not a big believer in drilling horses in anything because I don't think there is any benefit to it. However, he will be drilling over those ramps/drops until he figures it out...we will also be drilling hills. If he is going to be a foxhunter and an eventer, he's got to figure this stuff out sooner rather than later. And soon, we will be popping over ditches and creeks.

I plan to concentrate on as much out-on-the-trail experience as I can this summer and stay out of the ring as much as possible. We are at the point where the basics in the ring are good enough...now, we need to apply those basics to an open, more challenging situation before we move back into the ring for the next phase of training. He NEEDS the experience out in the open right now and I think it will really improve our ring work as he learns that he must concentrate on me...not everything around us.

This It Be Right

2010-04-19T09:18:00.002-05:00

Warning: This just might make you cry. You've been warned.

Special Horses.

P.S. Yes. I cried. Made me miss all the horses I've lost and be even more thankful for the time I get with the ones I have.

Got itches?

2010-04-17T11:24:00.003-05:00

We all know what shedding season is like. Horses get SUPER ITCHY!

This is Gabe's favorite itching tree. He can stand out there for half and hour or more just itching his whole body. The bark on that little tree is worn smooth.

Gabe's Itching Tree

The birds were quite loud! The video isn't as clear as I'd hoped...I taped it from our deck at 30X magnification.

Freight train to Ferrari

2010-04-14T14:10:00.005-05:00

Sometimes it's those "Ah ha!" moments that make all the difference.

Turning right, Gabe drives like a freight train: All power, no finesse. We could do huge, lop-sided, painfully crooked rather pathetic turns all day long. But, circles to the right resembling circles and not amoebas? Out of the question.

So, yesterday, I decided I was really going to think about what I was doing up there. Because I KNOW he can turn right, I've seen him do it in the pasture countless times, effortlessly and with an incredible amount of athleticism and grace.

I knew it was something I was doing wrong.

And I was right.

I concentrated on my body as we headed into a right turn...and wouldn't you know it. My right shoulder and waist immediately collapsed, which dropped my right seat bone into him and pushed him...that's correct...pushed him LEFT! He was just doing what my body was asking and I was clueless about what my body was asking. See what happens when we get lazy about paying attention to our bodies? Bad habits abound!

He was being good...and I was committing an all-too-common rider sin over and over and over again. Imagine how confused the poor guy was, being asked to do the same thing over and over and not understanding what he wasn't doing right. Because that big, wonderful boy, he's a pleaser and I could tell he was starting to get as frustrated as I was.

Once this information clicked I could concentrate on keeping my body upright, my shoulders squared, body centered and balanced in the middle of him without collapsing to either side and keeping my seatbones evenly balanced on either side of his spine, following the direction of his shoulders.

And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I got ME straightened out...he turned right beautifully!

The freight train became a Ferrari. And I rejoiced.

Where have all the cowboys gone? Or...why isn't this mare working more often?!

2010-04-09T09:01:00.004-05:00

I really wanted to ride Thursday night but wasn't up to dealing with Gabe's usual antics.

You know how sometimes you just want to go along for the ride, not have to work for the ride? That's the kind of mood I was in. I didn't feel like working for the ride, I simply wanted to go out and plug along and enjoy some quiet time in the woods all by myself, just me and the horse. No muss, no fuss. No antics.

So, I hauled Calypso out of the pasture, knocked off the mud (and a considerable amount of hair!) and took her out, imagining a nice, relaxed amble through the woods to enjoy the birds, the golden sunset and inhaling the scents of freshly blooming spring flowers.

But I totally forgot she hasn't been ridden since the beginning of November, and hadn't been ridden a whole lot before that, either. I would guess she got MAYBE ten rides all last year, and that's being generous. It was almost like she forgot everything she's learned! She was a head-in-the-air giraffe horse, taking quick little short, mincing trot steps (on a trot that is already like sitting on a pogo stick) and iffy on the halts and steering.

It's the short-backed, steep-shouldered, steep-pasterned, toed-in little quarter horses with the jaw-jarring trots that remind me why I love my long-legged, slope-shouldered, smooth-striding Thoroughbred so very much. It's shocks vs no-shocks on a rough brick road.

The neighbor's peacocks freaked her out a bit. She did not like that colorful fan-tail heading towards her AT ALL and let me know in no uncertain terms that she didn't trust the horse-eating peafowl and would leave the vicinity if provoked at all. Unlike Gabe's fast, sideways "I'm outta here!" spooks, Calypso's cutting horse blood kicks in and she drops her entire body about 6", rocks back on her hocks and tenses her entire body, ready to flee out from under me if needed. Despite her craptacular trot, that mare can spin on a dime and teleport sideways when she feels like it.

A relaxed ride it was not. I did not enjoy the birds. I did not smell the flowers. I cursed the setting sun for being behind the peacocks to make them more frightening.

But I got her to relax and drop that head a bit. The trot became a bit less bone-jarring by the time I headed for home. I worked on starting the tune-up process to remind her that her job in this life is to just amble along, not act like a child hopped up on Twinkies and cake. That's her only job. She doesn't have to know anything more than go, turn and stop. Oh, sure, I've thrown a couple other things on her just for shits and grins, she can spin (albeit a slow, easy one, but a spin it is!), sidepass, leg yield, turn on the haunches, shoulder in and neck rein, but she doesn't NEED to know all that.

She just needs to be a safe, quiet trail horse who won't give peacocks a passing glance. Guess I need to get my butt in gear and remind her of her job before my husband puts his butt back in the saddle this summer.

Run, run, run!

2010-04-02T09:59:00.003-05:00

What happens when you toss a herd of horses out into the big pasture for the first time in the spring?
They go a little CRAZY! Are these happy horses or what?

I love this photo, and I'm a little bit surprised Gabe allowed himself to be sandwiched between the other two. He's not big on being crowded.

They ran and bucked and farted and chased each other for a good 10 minutes before finally settling down to rip up as much green grass as they could in the hour I allowed them out.

Look ma! No feet!

Can't you almost hear him blowing and snorting? Cause he was. With that tail flagging high the entire time.

Mr. Bobblehead Bucky Boy

2010-04-01T09:31:00.003-05:00

I'm just gonna say it like it is: Gabriel is a BRAT! A great big, silly brat who seems to have forgotten his manners.

Could be the beautiful spring weather and drying ground have something to do with his brattiness. Could be the inconsistent work he's been getting lately contributing to the lack of manners. Could be the rich alfalfa hay he's been eating for the past month is adding to the overall energy level of a 6-year-old SNOT. It's the end of the season, I get what I can get until the first cutting comes in. I don't LIKE feeding them 100% alfalfa, but it's dang good hay...and it's better than a load of weed-infested crap hay I got in January.

Could be anything.

I have seen him give little half-hearted humped-up bucks on the longe line. He pops up a little bit, chucks that head around and squeals. Typically I don't get after him for it as long as he gets it out of his system and settles back down and listens to me.

But Tuesday? Holy mackerel. That horse. OOOOOhhhh, that bratty, bratty, super-energized horse truly showed me his athletic ability. He's been keeping little secrets.

That boy can FLY. Straight up, all fours off the ground with those hind legs well above his head. Bucking bronco anyone? Buck after buck after buck...I swear he cracked his back more than once after he bucked around on the end of the line. It wasn't discomfort or frustration or anger, it was pure energy expressing itself in a most young horse-like way. As soon as I had his brain on the longe line (gait changes, spirals in and out, trot cavalletti, direction changes, etc.) I climbed aboard and hoped for the best.

You'd think he'd be more settled into work mode after the shenanigans on the longe line. You'd think the sweat and the blowing would have knocked some of the edge off.

Nope. We had a few bucks and more than a couple of spooks at absolutely nothing.

But I kept him moving forward, forward, forward and WORKED him. We had a few fleeting moments of brilliance. Those moments we work so hard towards seem to be coming more often, despite the moments of massive fail. We also had quite a few "oh shit! No you didn't!" moments. But I rode the 'oh shit!' moments and used them to my advantage. I'm pretty sure I called him a shithead more than once.

You want to spook sideways at that dandelion? Hmm...okay...spook right into this lateral movement! Ha! Take that, you booger. Work it! Bucking? Really? Okay. Canter on a circle and give me a little bend. There ya go! Chuck that head around like a danged fool? Fine. You can't trot cavalletti while flinging and gazing at the stars. Lets see how many times you trip over your feet and stumble over the poles before you stop with the head crap. Good boy! There ya go, round UP! Chew the bit softly! NICE!

We ended the ride very nicely with him trotting strong, forward and rounded up to me. His cool-out walk was long, powerful and relaxed.

He heaved a sigh, licked his lips and pricked those ears forward. It was good. We talked. He talked back a few times, but in the end, he listened and I listened and something between us clicked.

We're not perfect. In fact, sometimes we are absolutely HORRIBLE. But as long as he learns something positive by the time we are done I consider it a successful ride. Bucks, spooks and general naughtiness included. Because each one of those naughty behaviors can be transformed and used in the overall training process.

Because at some point, he'll figure out it's just easier to not act like a bobble-headed yearling full of spring oats. I hope!

What a mare!

2010-03-26T09:38:00.004-05:00

Linking to a post from Equine Progressive about my favorite racing mare...she just becomes more amazing every time I hear about her.

He's a fake blonde

2010-03-22T18:24:00.007-05:00

We have a problem.

It's not a huge problem, but a problem nonetheless.

You see, Gabe's tail is supposed to look like this:
Look how pristine and white and beautiful that tail is.

Instead, we have this:

Seriously. What is this? Blonde day? Not even an attractive blonde, but rather a mud-stained, urine-shaded yellow blonde.

Here, look at it again:

Is that not icky? It's supposed to be WHITE! Hmm...think maybe the constant rolling in the mud (as is evidenced by the mud clinging to his legs!) has anything to do with the state of his tail?

"Mud? What mud? Oh, you mean THIS stuff? I like to roll in this stuff...oh! And sleep in it!"

I have never, ever had a horse with a white tail before. The horses I've groomed for who had white tails lived in stalls with those tails spending most of their lives snug inside a tail bag. Cleaning them wasn't hard, and they were always white. I have a feeling a tail bag wouldn't last for very long on Gabe...either he would remove it or Chief would remove it for him.

I have no idea how to get this thing de-yellowed without damaging the hairs. We all know how very fragile those tail hairs can be!

So, I am open to suggestions...something that will help me get that tail white again without damaging those hairs. When he came to me the tail barely grazed the top of his hocks, so it's done a lot of growing! It's nice and thick and getting longer, and I'd like to keep it that way.

But I'd also like it to be white.

Mmmm...tasty!

2010-03-21T15:29:00.007-05:00

Mr. Gabe is super mouthy, I've mentioned that before. He's almost like a teething toddler...must have something in his mouth all the time. Yesterday he tore a huge hole in the seat of my tractor while I was cleaning his run-in. Most of the time he limits himself to chewing on the rubber tires, but noooo....the seat was his victim instead.

He used to be very, very wiggly while tied, then, he discovered he could gnaw on the rope during grooming and tacking and he stands much, much better.

It starts with lip wiggles on the rope and tentative testing with the tongue:

Quickly it goes from testing to active, slobber-inducing tasting:

Most days he inhales a huge loop of rope up into his maw to gnaw on it with his molars. This time, he is content with mouthing and licking it:

He spends a lot of time trying to get the rope INTO his mouth. I think that's part of the challenge of the game for him, just staying busy. He's one of those horses who I think would really benefit from one of those pony pop licky things you can mount in their stalls.

Some horses have the head to really show off a fine figure-8 to it's fullest. I personally love the look of a figure-8 on a fine-looking horse head. I think Gabe pulls the look off well!
Isn't he a handsome guy? I'm pretty sure he knows it, too.

Sproingy, sproingy, sproingy!

2010-03-19T09:40:00.004-05:00

Yesterday's ride had me thinking about how often we ask a horse, a prey animal, to put their trust in us. And how often they resist their natural instincts and trust us to protect them.

Every time we are with them, whether it's just hanging around, grooming or riding, we are developing a little more trust, a stronger relationship. We ask them to stand nicely while tied up, a compromising position for any prey animal. We ask them to walk quietly through the woods when by instinct, they should be hyper-aware of mountain lions in the trees or wolves lurking behind bushes.

We ask them to trust us enough to go out into the big, scary world without the safety and companionship of their herdmates and yet, still continue to be on their best behavior. That's a lot of trust we shoulder and to let them down can set back training by leaps and bounds.

For the first time I took Gabe into the woods and fields next door to our property all by himself. It's a gorgeous piece of property, half of it woods with trails cut through it, the other half a big beautiful meadow with trails all through it. It's a beautiful, perfect place for conditioning work. A grass road follows the edge of the entire property, gently rolling, through woods, around the meadow, along the edge of a pond and perfect for galloping and speed work. I haven't done that YET, but it's on the list.

I think he trusts me. He walked willingly across our bridge (it's just a concrete slab over the creek) and into the woods. He watched and looked with interest, those cute little ears pricked forward, but never hesitated. Never even hesitated to cross the bridge which in the past has presented a bravery challenge for Calypso.

He walked through puddles and mud without blinking. He did, however, have a little bit of an issue figuring out where to put his feet when we had to walk over a downed tree and negotiate the tangle of dead branches. He got a little confused about where to put his hind feet and just kind of crashed through the rotten limbs. It's good practice for him and when we went back over it he didn't hit a single branch. He jumped a little bit when a rabbit whipped out in front of us. It startled me, too. But he never hesitated or refused to do what I asked.

At least, not until Calypso started calling for him about 20 minutes in to our ride. We were far enough away that it was a faint call, but definitely Calypso's high scream opposed to Chief's low neigh.

Gabe's head came up when he heard her, he took smaller, faster steps and started jigging. Oh. Great. I can tolerate fast walks, but the jigging drives. me. crazy. Jig. Jig. Jig. Jig. GAH! I continued to ask for forward and he tried to rear and spin to go back towards his herdmates. A quick, tight circle and a heel in his side straightened him up.

He then grew about 6 inches and continued to take tiny, mincing steps, obviously wanting to go back from whence we came, but really trying to listen to me and trust in my direction. He was having a battle inside his head: Herdmates! Rider! Herdmates! Rider! AHHHHHH!!!!!

With every step he snorted, the steps got higher and slower and pretty soon I was riding an un-asked for piaffe. He had decent form for an untrained movement! Perfect? Not hardly, but it seems a very natural a movement for him. Hooray! So, I took the opportunity he presented and I went with it. I asked for a little more forward (since he was already balanced well back on his hocks and coiled up like a tightly wound spring) and we had a dozen or so wonderful steps of a very powerful passage. Woo hoo! I was ecstatic!

He started losing his balance a bit (it was muddy in the woods, not the most desirable place to school dressage movements! And, he's not fit enough to sustain it for any length of time.) so I pushed him into a nice canter and he responded with controlled enthusiasm.

I got his brain back by making him work and concentrate and his trust settled back to me instead of reaching out to his herd mates. Yes, he was listening for Calypso's call, but he was listening to ME instead.

I wonder if it helped that I started singing to him after Calypso's first holler? I won't tell you what I serenaded him with, but it might have to do with a lamb and a little girl named Mary. And a later song might have had to do with sunshine and making me happy.

In the end, he could have easily ditched me and left me sitting in the mud to go galloping back to the safety of his friends. There is no way I could win a real fight with an 1,100#, 16.2hh horse who decides to listen to instinct instead of throwing it away and trusting in the human.

I must be doing something right.