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!
Showing posts with label horse behavior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horse behavior. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
An eye-opener
You can learn a lot about the personality of your horse just by sitting back and watching him or her be a horse.
I learned a thing or two about Gabe this weekend that may help me deal with the way he reacts to things that worry/scare him, such at the umbrella, the cows, etc. etc.
For some reason Sunday he decided there was something REALLY SCARY in his run-in shed. He would not go near it, even though he knew his feed tub was full of warm, yummy breakfast. By the way, there was nothing in his shed. I checked and double checked. Not a thing. Sometimes I think he sees things.
Anyway. He refused to go in there long enough to finish his breakfast and eventually, once I opened all the gates, Chief and Calypso finished it for him. Obviously, if they were willing to go stand in Gabe's run-in and gobble up his breakfast, there was nothing in there to worry about.
Evening rolled around, Gabe had avoided and given his run-in the stink eye all day. So, I put everyone in their appropriate paddocks, fed, and sat on the deck to just watch Gabe. I knew he was still being crazy about the run-in but I wanted to watch him deal with it on his own.
He knew dinner awaited him. All he had to do was overcome his fear of going in to his shed.
He started out in the farthest corner from his shed, standing there just watching the shed, ears pricked at it, body a big hard ball of tension and muscle ready to flee.
After a few minutes of him just staring at it, he dropped his head and walked forward with purpose about 20 good strides. Then stopped and stared at it again, decided it was still too terrifying, whirled and cantered back to the corner where he started the whole process again.
Each time he did that he stopped closer to the shed and ran less further away from it.
Classic approach and retreat method done all on his own.
He was confronting his worry and his uncertainty in baby steps, but he was definitely trying to defeat his fear on his own terms. Two steps forward, one step back, until he finally got to the entrance, stepped inside, took a bite, then whirled and ran back out again to stand about 15 feet from the entrance. He did this for a good 20 minutes before he finally decided it was safe enough to go in and enjoy dinner.
Now that I know, for certain, how he approaches worry and uncertainty and fear on his own, I can work that into how I approach it with him in the saddle. I realized as I watched him that he does the exact same thing under saddle, but WATCHING him do it, instead of having to ride that, was extremely eye-opening. It's a whole different ball game when you can watch them behave in a certain way and know why they are behaving that way than try to deal with it when you are atop them, especially the whirl and run away part!
If the approach, retreat method, done slowly and on his terms, is what helps him deal with it, then that's what we'll do and hopefully that will end the long, drawn-out battles we get in to over passing something that's a little too scary for him. Eventually though, I hope we won't have to go through that, that he will learn to trust my judgment enough that he will just march forward without the retreat!
We'll see how it goes, but it was definitely interesting to see him deal with something like that on his own.
I learned a thing or two about Gabe this weekend that may help me deal with the way he reacts to things that worry/scare him, such at the umbrella, the cows, etc. etc.
For some reason Sunday he decided there was something REALLY SCARY in his run-in shed. He would not go near it, even though he knew his feed tub was full of warm, yummy breakfast. By the way, there was nothing in his shed. I checked and double checked. Not a thing. Sometimes I think he sees things.
Anyway. He refused to go in there long enough to finish his breakfast and eventually, once I opened all the gates, Chief and Calypso finished it for him. Obviously, if they were willing to go stand in Gabe's run-in and gobble up his breakfast, there was nothing in there to worry about.
Evening rolled around, Gabe had avoided and given his run-in the stink eye all day. So, I put everyone in their appropriate paddocks, fed, and sat on the deck to just watch Gabe. I knew he was still being crazy about the run-in but I wanted to watch him deal with it on his own.
He knew dinner awaited him. All he had to do was overcome his fear of going in to his shed.
He started out in the farthest corner from his shed, standing there just watching the shed, ears pricked at it, body a big hard ball of tension and muscle ready to flee.
After a few minutes of him just staring at it, he dropped his head and walked forward with purpose about 20 good strides. Then stopped and stared at it again, decided it was still too terrifying, whirled and cantered back to the corner where he started the whole process again.
Each time he did that he stopped closer to the shed and ran less further away from it.
Classic approach and retreat method done all on his own.
He was confronting his worry and his uncertainty in baby steps, but he was definitely trying to defeat his fear on his own terms. Two steps forward, one step back, until he finally got to the entrance, stepped inside, took a bite, then whirled and ran back out again to stand about 15 feet from the entrance. He did this for a good 20 minutes before he finally decided it was safe enough to go in and enjoy dinner.
Now that I know, for certain, how he approaches worry and uncertainty and fear on his own, I can work that into how I approach it with him in the saddle. I realized as I watched him that he does the exact same thing under saddle, but WATCHING him do it, instead of having to ride that, was extremely eye-opening. It's a whole different ball game when you can watch them behave in a certain way and know why they are behaving that way than try to deal with it when you are atop them, especially the whirl and run away part!
If the approach, retreat method, done slowly and on his terms, is what helps him deal with it, then that's what we'll do and hopefully that will end the long, drawn-out battles we get in to over passing something that's a little too scary for him. Eventually though, I hope we won't have to go through that, that he will learn to trust my judgment enough that he will just march forward without the retreat!
We'll see how it goes, but it was definitely interesting to see him deal with something like that on his own.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, January 23, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, November 7, 2011
We have issues
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.
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.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Tell tails
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?
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?
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, October 10, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Dairy cattle eat horses with a butter knife
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!
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!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, June 20, 2011
On beatings, bruises and blackwater blues
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.
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.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Grand Prix jumper he is not
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.
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.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Off they go!
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
There is no sideways, only standing
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.
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.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
He is...
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!
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!
Monday, January 3, 2011
And my soul soars
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 $$ laying around to get it done. :(
Oh, the feeling of pure joy attained after so long an absence, even with the silly boy antics tossed at me by the big gray guy. Emotionally and mentally I can always tell when I've gone too long without riding. I feel down in the dumps, like something in my life is missing and the weight of the world on my shoulders. One ride, good or not so good, is all it takes to lift me up again, to remind my soul that yes, I can soar with eagles when I climb astride my horse.
I only rode for about 45 minutes after lungeing the big goof ball for about 20 minutes. He performed several airs above ground, shimmied, ducked, bucked and twisted in the air, both on the line and with me in the saddle. Which, in an oddly demented way, was quite exhilarating to ride. I think I even whooped and laughed a few times as he was getting the ants out of his pants. Which I wouldn't have done if I hadn't been able to stick to the saddle and landed face-first in the frozen mud instead. I'm sure it would have been far less exciting if I had to wipe the mud off my face and catch my horse after such silliness on his part.
Life is good again. I'm ready for spring, longer days and grooming copious amounts of shedding hair from my fuzzy critters.
A video of the beasties enjoying the snow last weekend...that leap and spin performed by Gabe? Yeah, pretty sure I rode one eerily similar last night. Chief's lookin' pretty darn spry for a 25-year-old arthritic dude isn't he?
Sorry about the dang black speck in the video...there is a speck of something in the housing of my camera...a non-removable housing. I have to send it in to have it removed and I just haven't had the extra $$ laying around to get it done. :(
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Fast and slow
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.
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.
Friday, October 29, 2010
My little helper...
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!
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!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
OH, that mareish squeal!
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.
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.
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