You can never have too many bits

I might have a rather significant collection of bits, but I don't use them all. In fact, some of them I've never used. Bits, for me, are a lot like shoes for other women. I just like them and I like to have plenty of options available, just in case.

Since I've had Gabe I've had a variety of bits in his mouth trying to find something he likes. From a big fat loose ring snaffle, to a loose-ringer Myler snaffle, to a double-jointed Myler D-ring, to a regular racing dee, a single-jointed eggbutt, a rubber mouth D-ring, a full-cheek and finally, a Baucher.

Each and every bit elicted a different, not entirely accepting, response from the big, picky guy. He absolutely hated the full-cheek snaffle and has been mildly accepting of the Baucher. He mouths and mouths and plays and gets above it and below it, twists his head and sometimes puts his tongue over it, no matter how little or how much contact I take up. His teeth aren't the issue, they've been checked.

He has a very narrow jaw and a low palate (like many Thoroughbreds) and I got to thinking...are these single jointed bits nut-crackering and irritating his palate and smushing his jaw? Even the double-jointed Myler had a mild port on it, so it would poke his palate.

I've been searching for a very specific bit for quite some time and for some reason, it's not carried by many tack shops. I don't like to buy my bits online, I like to hold them, feel their weight in my hands, examine the action over my arm and run my fingers over the metal to check for any scratches or burrs that might irritate. I also can't STAND a squeaky bit, so the joints must be fully tested, too.

A quick stop in my local tack shop finally struck gold. Of all the bits on the wall, there was only one of the type I was seeking: A double jointed eggbutt snaffle with a copper half-moon, in the right size. JACKPOT!

Even though there was no one else in the shop, I snagged that bugger as quickly as I could just in case it decided to poof into non-existence.  I hefted it, folded it over my arm, caressed the stainless steel, tested the joints and listened very carefully for any tell-tale signs of squeakiness. Nothing. It was perfect and beautiful.

I couldn't wait to get home to give it the Gabe test.

Guess what? He likes it! He likes it! So much excitement! After a few moments of mouthing it and sucking it up into his mouth to test it, something amazing happened - his mouth went still and I swear his eyes went soft and accepting. His mouth was completely quiet, his teeth stayed still and his tongue remained under the bit. That has NEVER happened with any of the other bits I've tried. His mouth stayed quiet and still the entire ride and he actually began reaching actively into it, white foam lipsticking his lips beautifully.

Our ride was fantastic. It felt good, he felt good, there was no head twisting or lip flapping or teeth grinding. I rode with very, very light contact and he kept reaching, reaching, reaching for the contact and every few strides rounded actively up into it with his ears pricked forward. Joyfulness!

Happiness is FINALLY finding a bit your horse loves. Especially when it's a nice, gentle, mild bit.

Oh, it hurts!

Last night we did something I've not yet felt comfortable enough with Gabe to do. Those who have been following our progress know that while, for the most part, Gabe is usually on an even keel, sometimes he has fairly explosive reactions to spooky things and can, for no discernible reason whatsoever, just be way too playful under saddle.

But, with him being such a star lately, I decided it was time to ride him bareback. Well, I didn't ride bareback, bareback, but rather threw my Baretek on him and went for a ride. For the record, I love my Baretek, all the benefits of bareback riding without the drawbacks (sweaty, hairy butt and legs, slippery back, etc.).

At first he didn't know what to think. He turned and looked at me when I first climbed aboard as if pondering what the heck I was doing. I know the feeling is different and he didn't know how to respond. I nudged him for a walk and got no reaction. Nudge again, still nothing. Kick and the lightbulb went off in his little TB head.

Did I mention I haven't ridden bareback or with the Baretek for YEARS? Holy mackerel. Apparently, I need to do it more often because within the first 10-15 minutes and a posting trot down the long side my inner thighs and hip flexors were SCREAMING in agony. My saddle, a multi-purpose eventing saddle that has a fairly forward seat, does not push my thighs back into a dressage position like the Baretek does. Yikes. Ouch! It is nice to know that I still have good balance though, even without stirrups. I dropped the reins a few times at the trot and held my arms out to the sides or above my head just to be sure I was riding with my seat, not balancing on his face. Most of the ride was done on a loose rein simply because I wanted to be sure I was using my body to balance and not his face.

Once we did as much posting and sitting trot as I could physically tolerate, we worked on tuning his sensitivity to my legs and seat (something nice and easy we could do at a walk and still accomplish a lot of what I've been wanting to work on with him.) He has always been sticky and very slow to respond to requests for lateral movement away from the pressure of my legs. By the end of the ride I think he finally GOT it. Yay! He does, however, respond beautifully to my seat for half-halts, halts and slowing/shortening his stride without any need for the reins. At least I got that part right in the training!

So, my goal now is to ride bareback at least once a week and really work on building my leg/ab strength, something that seems to have significantly diminished in riding exclusively in my saddle. It's good for me, and good for him, and now that I trust him so much more not to be a random nitwit, I feel comfortable doing it, too.

Happy trails!

Muddy mud mud

Don't look at me like that. You are absolutely FILTHY!

Really Gabe? EVERYWHERE?

I think we could probably make another whole horse outta that.

OH, there IS a gray horse under all that mud.

Yup, even had to scrub the face. There was mud on his eyelashes. What a pretty boy.

Better. Almost gray again, but still kinda mud tinged. He needs a bath.

Where can I buy horse-sized, extra-strength bubble wrap?

It's always something, isn't it? Again, I lament, even if we wrapped them up in bubble wrap and locked them snugly away in a padded stall they'd still manage to find some insane way to injure themselves.

Ugh.

I was sitting in my intellectual property law class at 8:30 p.m. when the first ominous text came through: "Call as soon as you can." Oh, that can't be good.

Then the second came through shortly later, this one from my daughter: "Gabe was very bad! He broke through the fence at the top paddock! A lot of poles are bent, two lost the caps, almost all of them have a torn down wire."

Oh. Crap. I'm an hour away from home, it's dark out and I'm in the middle of a lecture I can't just get up and sneak out of. So of course, I'm freaking out and mentally trying to urge the professor to talk faster and get us out early.

He did. I called home immediately to find out what was going on and if I should start panicking or if the vet needed to be called out again. I just had him out a few weeks ago because the big gray guy was colicking. Always something!

I learned that yes, he had gone through the fence, and yes, he did have some injuries. But, my boyfriend is still learning about horse first aid and couldn't tell me how bad the wounds were. "Well, they are bleeding but they aren't gushing blood." he relayed. He is very observant about the horses' behavior and noticed that Gabe just didn't seem to be his typical self: He wouldn't eat and seemed depressed but did have good gut sounds and wasn't acting like he was colicking, just not himself.

Still an hour away from home all I could do was drive (while keeping it at a safe, mostly legal speed!) and imagine the absolute worst.

When I got home I immediately pulled on the headlamp and went out to check out my guy. Yup, he was definitely cut up, but nothing to call the vet over. He has some cuts on his left stifle and cuts on his right forearm. He wasn't lame, but that rear leg was swollen and sore. I'm guessing he tried to go OVER the fence at a post and failed to clear it. All I have to say is thank GOODNESS I have every single post capped. The injuries would have been much more severe, perhaps even fatal, if he'd tried to go over a capless post and hung up on the top electric rope. And thank goodness I use electric rope with insulators that will break under pressure...if the fence hadn't given and the insulators broke to drop the fence to the ground, the injuries could have very well been significantly worse.

I scrubbed him up good with Betadine, sprayed the cuts with an antibiotic and dosed him with some bute to alleviate some of that soreness.

He was eating fine (had to soak a bit of grain to mix with the bute) and seemed to be himself again, so colic wasn't a worry any longer.

This morning he was still sore, but not lame, and the wounds look good and clean. Chief, however, also appears sore but he didn't go through the fence so I'm wondering what happened to my horses up in the pasture while no one was home.

What could have made Gabe go through the fence? He typically respects the fence and doesn't test it or push on it or even go near it unless he's face-fighting with Chief. He knows it bites hard and he tends to avoid that bite. What could have not only made Gabe freak out enough to go through the fence, but also apparently freak Chief out enough that he ran until he was sore?

I don't know, but I have a couple of guesses. The neighbor's peacocks are in super-roam mode again and my horses DO NOT LIKE the peacocks at all. My best guess is the peacocks paid the horses a visit and freaked them out, add to that the fact that the farmers were out in the field next to the pasture yesterday, which usually doesn't bother the horses but if you combine a couple of big tractors, dust and peacocks, it may have been enough to send them all into a tizzy. Ugh.

I hate mysteries like this, not knowing what caused the issue in the first place so I can try to prevent it from happening again.

And now I have a damn fence to fix.

Horses...it's a damn good thing I love 'em as much as I do.

A bit of this and that

We had another fabulous, long ride off the property again and Gabe was 50 percent better this time than he was last week. Our only issues: The cows (surprise, surprise) and a dog that appeared out of nowhere barking and lunging at us like a rabid lunatic.

Other than those two things, he was fabulous. And those two things were minor as he responded more like I expect him to respond in uncertain, scary situations. Instead of stopping and absolutely refusing to move forward AT ALL, he kept moving forward but also moved sideways while keeping a watchful eye on the advancing herd of deadly cattle and Cujo. Good boy!

Oh, and he did react to a HUGE tractor that rumbled by us hauling a disker and two anhydrous ammonia tanks. He's seen tractors many, many times, just not one as huge and noisy as this one, so his reaction was not unexpected.

Kayleigh rode Chief and my friend Jaquie rode Calypso and all were very good (Calypso was a wee bit on the up side, but settled down after 20 minutes into the ride). We rode about six miles, and after the first mile, Gabe was chugging along at a good walk...ON THE BUCKLE and very relaxed. So pleasant.

Worked Gabe in the arena Monday afternoon and he was very good. My stupid dog kept dashing out of the brush lining the arena right under his nose and disrupting his attention. If the dog runs behind him, he doesn't seem to mind too much, but when she's under his nose, he hates it. But, he needs to get used to it if he's going to be a good field hunter. Can't have him reacting adversely to every canine that appears out of nowhere, especially out on a hunt. So, although it's a pain in the butt, it's something he needs to get used to.

We worked on bending, turns on the haunches and canter departs. Turns on the haunches are coming along nicely, bending is improving bit by bit, but canter departs, oh, are they ever ugly. You know what I mean...trot faster faster faster faster THEN pick up the canter...inevitably on the wrong lead. So, we spent a whole lot of time re-gathering ourselves into a nice trot and trying again and again. We got a couple of decent departs, but nothing to get terribly excited about. It's just one of those things and we'll get it together eventually. Despite the terrible departs, his canter is so, so nice. It's one of those delightful canters you could ride all day long, so smooth, so "up", so powerful. It always makes me grin, and maybe giggle a little bit because it's just so FUN!

Also practiced loading on the trailer a bit and he's definitely getting better. I'm not pushing him to the point that he gets all worked up, but I do expect him to make an effort. Kayleigh doesn't understand why I just don't force him to get on and make him stay there. I could, but I want the whole trailer experience to be pleasant so when he sees it he WANTS to get on, not the opposite. I never, ever want there to be a question about whether he'll get back on the trailer if we go somewhere else! Imagine, stuck out in the middle of nowhere, hours from home with night approaching, and the horse refuses to get back on the trailer. No thanks! For me, that knowledge that he will happily load, no matter where we are, is well worth the time and the patience I have to have with this.

Happy trails!

Let the trail riding season begin!

I am sunburnt. Gabe is sleepy and as of this morning, is not body sore.

By my best guess, we rode about 12 miles yesterday, all told in just around 3.5 hours. My friend Jaquie brought her delightful pony gelding, Teddy, over to the farm Sunday morning and out we went to see what we could see.

It is by far the longest ride I've had him out on and I truly think he enjoyed all the sights and sounds.

We took a route I've never been down before, roads I've never even driven and discovered some absolutely delightful back roads that were very isolated and not busy at all. The horses were very good and although we had a few moments, Gabe was wonderful.

At first we did have some lack of desire to go forward issues and he'd dribble slower and slower until almost a halt. I tried squeezing him forward and got no response and (failing to bring with me a whip), I had to come up with some other way to convince him to step up the pace. So, I imagined having on a pair of rowel spurs and I "rolled" my heel up his side. Oh, did THAT ever surprise him the first time I did it and he SHOT forward! So I stayed on it, every time he dribbled, I rolled, and he picked up the pace immediately. It didn't take long for him to figure out that it was just easier to keep on marching forward instead of slowing slowing slowing into a halt.

As is typical of most farms, dogs ran out barking at us (there were a good number of hounds!), hackles high, appearing out of nowhere from nearly every house we passed. The first 3 or 4 times it happened Gabe was pretty darn sure they were going to gnaw his legs off at the pasterns and gave them the hairy eyeball while skittering across the road away from them.

By the end of the ride he didn't give the approaching barking (or baying) dogs a second glance while we marched along on the buckle. He also figured out by the end of the ride that I don't care if he wants to turn his head to look at something as long as he keeps walking forward.

We had a few very, very nice canters and he was popping over ditches and water-filled culverts like an old pro without even a second glance at them.

He saw his first herd of donkeys and quite frankly, I think he was more worried about those long-eared beasts than he was about the dogs! I told those donkeys as we walked by and they all ran up to the fence to see us that they were allowed to watch, but none of them was allowed to speak! I just knew that if one of them opened up and let loose a bray, it would be all over for Gabe's mostly-calm and collected self. We passed a herd of Belgian mares with a couple of foals that thought we were just awesome and came galloping up to the fence to see us. A galloping herd of Belgian's makes A LOT of noise! Those hooves surely do thunder and shake the ground. After we passed the herd decided to gallop to catch up to us and Gabe wasn't quite sure what to think about that. His tail curled up over his back (imagine Arab), and he started prancing and blowing hard (trumpeting like a stallion!) at that thundering herd of drafts. Such a silly boy, but even with those crazy antics he continued to listen to me and never did I feel like he had tuned me out and stopped listening, a HUGE step forward for both of us.

All in all, a long but fantastic ride and I'm looking forward to many, many more.

Jaquie is planning to move Teddy out to our place in two weeks and we're all pretty excited about it. Teddy is great little horse and I really look forward to having an adult around to go riding with and help build my cross-country course and add a few more trails around the place.

Days of No Go

When most people hear Thoroughbred off-the-track they typically think "Oh, crazy and fast!"

Which can be true, in part. I like to think of them more as "sensitive and responsive," and LIKE my personal riding horses that way.

But, Gabe, oh, he is a conundrum. He is neither crazy, nor is he fast. Which you would think automatically leads to "lazy and dull." Which is he is not. Usually.

There is a reason he is no longer on the track running his big Thoroughbred heart out. And it's because he was an absolute failure. He won his first two races then decided, "eh, this isn't for me, I don't wanna." So he didn't. Once he decides he's really not interested in doing something he just doesn't. Pretty simple.

There are rides when he's on it. Moving forward, responding wonderfully and quickly and just there, almost anticipating my requests.

Other times he's like riding a plow horse with freight train controls. There is no go, there is no turn and stop or lollygag about are about the only gaits he excels at. Think Eeyore general attitude on these days. It can be SOOOO frustrating to be up there, giving the cue, giving the cue, giving the cue and your horse just ignores you. You KNOW he knows what you want but decides that compliance isn't at the top of his list today.

I've tried the whisper, tell, yell method and given him three chances to give me the right answer and usually fail. So, to the 'net I go, looking for suggestions, knowing the answers I will most likely find.

“The biggest thing causing a non-responsive horse, is the rider giving too many aids,” states dressage rider and coach Gary Vander Ploeg emphatically. “We are taught as green riders to give lots of aids, that is, look busy on the horse, and we are not taught how to be passive. The worst thing we can do is to ‘drive stronger’ and ‘grip with your legs’ with these horses, because we are actually training them to be dull.” From a Horse-Canada.com article.

Yup. Exactly what I knew I'd find. It's never the horse, it's always the rider. So, how do I fix this problem?

Again, I knew the answer but it always helps me to see it and read it before I put it into practice.

Gabe no longer gets three chances. He gets ONE. Because he knows what the answer is, he just doesn't feel like answering at that moment.

I will no longer be that nagging rider, begging my horse to comply with my request, being along for the ride. I will be the leader in this relationship and he doesn't get to decide he doesn't feel like responding.

One light cue and when I get no response, he gets a whack with the stick. I don't think it will take him long to figure out it's just easier to "follow the leader." He's a smart horse. Smart enough that he's managed to get me exactly where he wants me...complying with HIS decisions on the days he really just doesn't wanna.

Colic is a four-letter word

Sometimes it seems that no matter what precautions you take, how hard you work to keep your horses' living space as safe as possible or the efforts you make to keep them as healthy and happy as possible, something is bound to go wrong.

That's why it's a common theory that even wrapping our equine friends up in bubble wrap and keeping them in a padded stall wouldn't make a difference. They'd still manage to find a way to injure or sicken themselves. I'm pretty sure most of them are subconsciously suicidal.

Gabe colicked last weekend.

Colic is a horse owner's worst nightmare, in my opinion. I've lost two wonderful horses to colic and it's not something I ever take lightly. You never know whether your colicking horse simply has a little painful gas or something far worse, like a twisted gut or perforated intestine.

You just never know. And often you just never know what causes it. For such powerful, beautiful, wonderful animals, horses sure are delicate creatures.

I knew instantly when I saw him Saturday morning that things were not right in Gabe's world. One more advantage to having them at home: I know them, I know how they typically behave and I know something is wrong where someone else might not immediately recognize subtle signs and changes.

Gabe had all the classic colic symptoms: He was biting at his side, anxious, throwing himself to the ground, laying out flat then getting up to throw himself down again, walking in circles, pawing, sweating, breathing hard and obviously in pain.

He had almost no gut sounds on one side and very weak gut sounds on the other. He passed a few very hard, dry poop balls and it took him some effort to do even that.

There was no question in my mind that he was colicking and also no question that the vet would be called.

But I always wonder whether or not I should dose a colicking horse with Banamine before I call the vet. Will the Banamine mask symptoms? Am I doing additional harm to a horse who may already be dehydrated?

My mom is a vet, but unfortunately lives all the way on the other side of the country, so having her come out to treat my horses is kind of out of the question.

But I can call for advice and call I did. I guess it was about 5 a.m. her time and I woke her up, but thankfully, hearing her voice on the other end calmed me down and helped me think more clearly.

No Banamine, she advised, unless my vet gave the okay.

Thankfully my vet is only 15 minutes away from my farm, so he was there pretty quickly. By that time Gabe was feeling a bit better, but still, I don't mess around with colic and I take no chances.

Poor guy was subjected to the indignity of a rectal exam and a tube up his nose for a good dose of oil. He got a sedative and a pain reliever and was pretty out of it but started to really feel better a couple of hours later.

The vet found no distended intestine indicating gas, nor could he find any twisted gut. So, who knows what caused Gabe so much pain.

But what if he HAD had a twisted gut and needed surgery to fix it? Would I put him through a major surgery?

This is something all horse owners should ask themselves before it happens and really think about what it logically and honestly before faced with it emotionally.

My answer is no, I wouldn't. For all of my horses. The answer to colic surgery will always be no in my book. And it's not because I don't love my horses and not because I wouldn't be heartbroken to have to make that decision, but considering it now, before I have to make that kind of decision, I know it would be the wisest and best one to make.

Not only do I not have the facilities to keep a horse on stall rest for months, but I also know any one of mine would be absolutely miserable locked up for months and the possibility of developing other post-surgical complications is likely.

Colic surgery is not only incredibly expensive, it is also incredibly risky and there is no guarantee that the horse won't colic again and no guarantee that he will survive the surgery and healing process either.

I hope I never, ever have to make that decision, but at least I know what that decision would be if it came down to it.

What would you do if faced with that decision?

The Umbrella

Once upon a time there was a big green and white and brown deck umbrella that made it's home peacefully propped up in a table on the deck.

Then, one night, a big storm blew up, snapped the wood pole of that huge umbrella and sent it flying over the house, bouncing across a pasture and dumped unceremoniously into the fence where it got stuck.

And the horses freaked.

Big time freaked and snorted, ran and blew loud blasts of air from their flaring nostrils. They ran in circles, tails over their rumps, heads high, sweat soon steaming off their bodies. And Gabe did his best to stay firmly and safely behind the other two just in case that big, horse-eating, open-mawed monster decided to extricate itself from the fence and come after them. He didn't have to outrun the umbrella, he only had to outrun Chief and Calypso. The logic of horses is simple.

I watched them act like morons for several hours then decided to head out and remove the umbrella from the fence myself. The wind in the open umbrella was doing nothing to help preserve the tautness of my fence and really, I was kind of tired of looking at it there. It depressed me. Those things are pricey and this one was pretty shredded and beyond saving.

I pulled it out of the fence, closed it up and dumped it on the other side of the fence by the driveway to pick up later. Besides, I figured the horses needed ANOTHER heart attack and could just deal with it being there.

Later that day, completely forgetting the big scary horse-devouring umbrella was still sunning itself between the driveway and the fence, Kayleigh and I went out for a ride, she on Calypso bareback, me on Gabe. He was being fabulous: Quiet and responsive and just good, especially considering I haven't been able to ride for a couple of weeks.

Then, he saw it. The big scary horrible horse eating umbrella on the ground. Oh. My. God.

Remember this trail ride disaster?

Same thing, but take away cows and instead insert inert, yet terrifying, umbrella.

Wow. He wouldn't go near that thing until I got off (I will not admit to maybe having some help getting off when the rearing and general idiocy really kicked in) and led his big ass over to it. If I went first, he had no issues. I could kick it, drag it, wiggle it, touch him with it, open it in front of him and make him walk back and forth over it, which I did, repeatedly until he relaxed, which really took a very, very short time.

Then I got back on and he freaked out again and absolutely, positively refused to get near it. Images of glue and dog food and yes, even horse steaks, were flitting through my head. I even imagined a nice horse-skin rug in front of the fireplace.

All I have to say it's a darn good thing I've learned a butt load of patience since my not-so-patient youth.

Finally, he gave in and sidled up to it sideways and wide-eyed, then stepped over it, snorting.

Turn around, go back over. Turn around, go back over. Rinse and repeat for about half an hour at all gaits. I got off and moved it again, back to where it was when I pulled it from the fence and tossed it between the fence and driveway.

Meltdown #3 and he absolutely refused to walk by it until I got off and led him by it in both directions. What is it with this horse? Seriously. I don't get it. Calypso pricked her ears at it, sidled sideways, snorted, then went by it when it was still in the ditch the first time and got over it entirely.

Gabe, a completely different story. If I'm leading him, he's fine. If I'm on him, it's no longer okay. If I move the thing he had been going back and forth over so much it became boring, it's a brand new big scary horrible thing and we're back to square one.

I'm trying to unravel how his brain works, but I'm starting to think that maybe it doesn't. Suggestions? Ideas? Clues? I'm running out of them.

The Mist

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.

NO! Not the toes!

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.

Learning respect

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

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...

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.

Really?! REALLY?!

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

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

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

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.

The monsters are REAL!

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.

Nearly disastrous

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.