Attack of the Flying Dogs!

Today I was doing so well riding Wyatt that I envisioned myself calling his previous owners and telling them about our progress. He longes like a champ now. Under saddle he bends quite well and flexes at the poll. He's even cantering (you can't quite call it a "lope" yet) at a fairly respectable pace and holding his leads (most of the time).

We'd succeeded in cantering nicely to the left and I was just about to end our schooling session by cantering to the right.

And then my neighbor, who lives in one of the homes that borders the arena, let her pair of Labrador retrievers out to roam the hillside. Because the arena is set down in a sort of flood control plain, the dogs cavorting on the hill must've looked to Wyatt as if they were flying.

You know, just the sort of incomprehensible sight a greenbroke 3-year-old needs to see. *Sigh*

I lost his attention completely. He tuned out my hand and leg aids, which is always a disconcerting feeling. He began to snort like a dragon with his tail raised above his back. Then he headed toward the gate at a big, lofty trot. Naturally, I tried to deter him, but it soon became abundantly clear that Wyatt did not steer as well as I had thought... at least not when flying dogs were pursuing him.

Now, generally speaking, when I was younger-- and didn't have about $20,000 of computerized medical equipment implanted in my body-- I'd have stayed on and ridden through the distraction by circling, bending and/or galloping forward. But today discretion was the better part of valor. I gave Wyatt about 90 seconds to cool his jets. When it was evident he'd mentally checked out, I dismounted. Quickly. And then I introduced him to one of the most important tools of working with a young, green horse: The MRL (also known as the Mid-Ride Longe). In my opinion there is no shame in the MRL. It allows the horse to work through its anxiety or residual friskiness without me struggling to get him back into work mode. In about 5 minutes Wyatt had relaxed enough that I could climb back aboard and safely finish my ride. I've never been so determined to canter a horse around an arena on its right lead! Although the circles in the corners weren't quite as round as I'd like, there's always another day to polish them. Once Wyatt comprehended that he had to canter forward from my leg, give to my hand and circle when requested, and hold his right lead, I pulled him up, gave him a pat, and called it a day.

Tomorrow we'll repeat the whole lesson once more, minus the flying dogs. And without an MRL. I hope.

If you'd like to share a comment, just click on "comments" below.

Things Horses Do When They're Bored

When I'm bored, I clean tack. Or I wander through the halls of ebay, window shopping for stuff that I have no need for. I've browsed at handpainted decorative gourds, vintage cowgirl this 'n that, and pretty much anything said to be beaded by a Native American artist. As a last resort, when I'm bored I do housework. But I have to be really, really bored for that!

My horses, on the other hand, are much more industrious when they're bored. Their list of leisure time activities include-- but are not limited to-- the following:
* Attempting to overturn their water tubs
* Removing fly masks
* Adding dental impressions to anything made of leather
* Trimming new foliage on the trees surrounding their paddocks
* Popping the caps off the fenceposts of their corrals (always a favorite pastime!)
* Testing the strength of the velcro tabs on any boots or leg wraps
* Checking latches on gates (just to see if they can escape this time)
* Unraveling braided lead ropes

Fortunately, Wally is a simple creature. I've discovered that he will spend hours playing with his set of big orange CAUTION cones. He'll hold one of his big plastic cones in his teeth, flip it up and down, bob his head enthusiastically, and then toss it a few feet. Then he trots after it only to pick it up again for another round of Cone Tossing. He reminds me of my sister's Jack Russell terrier going after a chew toy. Unfortunately, the cones don't last long under these circumstances, which means I have to make regularly scheduled trips to my local hardware store. Pretty soon I'm going to be known as The Cone Lady.

Wyatt, on the other hand, is unimpressed with Cone Tossing. He has some mild interest in his Jolly Ball, but he'd rather play a game of tag. Not with me, mind you, but with the horses that pass by on the trail that runs right below our property. I always know someone is riding by because Wyatt's white tail will flip up, he'll arch his neck and he'll trot the length of the paddock with a lofty gait that makes me think that if he had a dose of warmblood in him he might have had a career as a dressage horse.

My horses get plenty of exercise. And they each have the luxury of turnout time. Yet I find it interesting that if I stand back and observe them during the day, they do spend a lot of time figuring out things to do when they're bored. Apparently, they're quite capable of making their own fun. Now, if I could only get them to do housework...

Lesson Learned

This is a photo of me (in my part-time role of riding instructor) with one of my students. Her name is Veronica, and her mom-- who's quickly being indoctrinated into the role of Horse Show Mom-- was kind enough to snap the picture. I really enjoy teaching Veronica. She has natural ability plus she's also quite determined. The result is that usually she pushes herself to succeed rather than me having to whine, plead and go into theatrics to get my point across.

*************

To be honest, I really didn't think I'd like giving riding lessons. My ex-coach and friend, Susan, asked me if I'd like to run her lesson program after I got injured in my infamous jumping accident. Since I could no longer compete, it seemed to Susan like a good idea. Everyone else thought it was a fine idea, too, except me. Mostly to keep my friends and family from thinking that I'd become withdrawn and depressed about my injuries, I dragged myself to the job, in a manner of speaking, kicking and screaming. I think that I had some real unresolved issues about being yanked from competition sooner than I'd planned. I'd wanted to relinquish my amateur status on my own terms. It had never occurred to me that I'd become, in the eyes of the United States Equestrian Federation, a "professional" before I had decided I was tired of chasing blue ribbons in the amateur adult hunter and equitation divisions. But fate-- and a certain Hanoverian mare-- made the decision for me.

*************

It's taken me about 2 years to really settle into the groove of being a riding instructor. While I cannot EVER envision myself doing it more than a few days a week, I actually like sharing what I've learned in about 40 years of riding huntseat. All of those clinics I rode in, all of the trainers who taught me, all of the fine and/or quirky horses I rode and all of my peers who challenged me to ride to my best capabilities served me well. Little, fundamental skills that I took for granted-- like how to adjust my horse's stride in a line of jumps to get first 4 strides, then 5 strides-- are grand moments of epiphany when explained to a novice rider. What's even better? I get to relive learning all the basics of good riding once again. There's a certain reward that comes with that. It's almost like reliving my youth. When I get a chance to share in the successes, struggles and failures of my students I'm taken back to a time when I also fought fatigue and discouragement to try, once again, to "get it all right." And that's pretty much why I've come to enjoy my job.

*************

Have a comment you'd like to share? Just click on "comments" below or email me at: hc-editor@bowtieinc.com

"Huh. It looked like he fit in there..."

Yesterday I went on a long trail ride with my friend Natalie. She rode one of her trusty grulla geldings and I was aboard Wally. We hauled out to the area surrounding Irvine Park which, to those of you unfamiliar with Orange County, California, is one of the few remaining undeveloped areas out here where riders can truly appreciate what early southern California looked like before it was paved over with asphalt and shopping malls. The 3-hour ride was wonderful and included all the elements that tested a true trail horse: water crossings, street crossings, bridges, hills (both up and down), and stepping over logs set in the trail to prevent erosion. Oh. And when we navigated through the park we had to negotiate our way past picnickers and hordes of little girls who were jumping up from their sandwiches and potato chips screaming, "Horses! Look at the horses!"

Wally was a real trooper. My formerly disgruntled ex-western pleasure show horse has found his niche: Trail Horse Extraordinaire.

But actually getting him to the trail ride... Not so much fun.

You see, Natalie and I decided to carpool-- or "trailer pool"-- because gasoline is just about $4.00 a gallon out here. She has a slant load and Wally had only been hauled in a slant before I bought him (I have a straight load trailer), so I figured, what the heck: Wally could ride with her horse. Not so easy. Wally hopped right in and he was happy as a clam. But once we got to the trail head at the park, it became obvious that there wasn't quite enough room for him to step back a foot, pivot on his hind end, and turn around to walk out. Instead he'd have to back out, which required him to step off her trailer with his hind feet into nothingness. She doesn't have a ramp. That scared poor Walter. If you could see him backing down the ramp of my straight load, you'd understand: He backs out cautiously and slowly, with little itty bitty baby steps. The task of blindly backing out of Natalie's step up trailer was simply too challenging. Not ones to resort to extreme measures, Natalie and I took our time with Wally until he finally got up the courage to dangle one hind hoof out into space (all of about a 6-inch drop, by the way), and hop down.

Then we rode. And then we cooled out our horses, gave them some snacks and plenty to drink and we re-loaded. Wally once again hopped right in and we were confident that the unloading lesson was learned. Yeah, right.

When we got back to my house, Wally once again looked at us as if we were crazy. He simply wasn't budging. He'd start to put his hind hoof out, then immediately re-think that idea. And he couldn't turn enough to lead out head first.

Finally Natalie said, "Cindy, I don't know what to do!"

Apparently, the prospect of Wally living in her trailer didn't appeal to her. Then I got an idea. We had some sandbags lining the horse trail in front of our house to prevent run-off during the rains. I hoisted a few beneath the back of the trailer, making a pair of soft yet supportive "steps" for Wally. Natalie and I tried again. She gave Wally the command to "back" at his front end while I was at his hind end, reassuring him that I wasn't going to let him descend into oblivion. Finally, he stepped down with one brave hind hoof, felt the sand bag, and then came out.

Victory at last!

By not panicking and resorting to yanking and whacking on Wally, we got him out of the trailer. And the moral of this story? Don't assume that your horse fits in a trailer just because he can get in the trailer. It needs to be roomy enough that he can also comfortably get out of the trailer.

Needless to say, next trip I'm hauling Wally in my straight load trailer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now I'm off to ride Wyatt in the arena before Easter dinner. My sister, Jill, is coming to watch. She has yet to see Wyatt, and her first introduction will be watching me attempt to canter him around the entire arena. He trotted a lot of nice circles on Friday. And he longed great! So we'll see how this goes. Stay tuned!

"Yes, you ARE going to longe. And that would be in the shape of a circle, thank-you very much!"

I'm very fortunate in that I have a large, secluded arena behind my house. The developer put that there for the local horse owners. Yesterday and today I took the recently acquired Wyatt to that arena, where he longed quite well.

Okay, I lied. He longed a lot better than he did at home in the turnout paddock, where the feed bucket kept luring him into the distant corner (dragging me behind him). In the arena, he longes fine. Or he did yesterday. Today, as I was leading Wyatt into the arena, who should come riding out of the arena but my neighbor and fellow equestrian author Audrey Pavia! Here's a link to a recent article about her on Horse Channel:

Audrey's Latest Gig

Anyway, so Audrey comes riding out and Wyatt is mesmerized by the fact that:
A) there's yet another horse in the world he has never met before

and...

B) there's a gate in the arena railing (translation: Thanks to the invention of The Gate, once a horse is in the arena, a horse can also exit the arena)

I then begin longeing Wyatt. All is going well until he decided-- in the way that only a 3-year-old can decide-- that perhaps he'd longed enough and the gate was a far more attractive option than continuing on going in circles at the canter. He made a beeline to the gate, with me behind him.

Yet since he was bitted up, I had far more control of his body than he anticipated. Score one point for the human.

This game of, "Oh yes I can!" repeated itself a few more times until Wyatt got the message that, "Oh no you can't!" And then we finished our longeing session and he got a lot of pats. Then I climbed on and we worked on bending and circling at the walk and trot. Very mundane stuff but ultimately extremely important basics. Add a few halts and some backing up (with a baby you don't want to over-do going backwards before you've fully mastered GOING FORWARD) and we were done for the day. I know, not very exciting, but I knew that when I bought Wyatt this was a long-term project. As in don't expect much until June.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wanted to add a note of thanks to everyone who commiserated with me on my horse shopping drama. I got some very insightful comments and emails. In fact, an email from one horsewoman explained how she was ready and willing-- cash in hand-- to buy a horse, yet she kept meeting up with sellers who weren't very accomodating to her requests for a video. How can you expect to market a horse out of the local area and yet not be prepared to provide buyers with a video?

If you'd like to leave a comment, just click on "comments" below!

Introducing.... Wyatt!

Here is a quick snapshot of my new horse. I had just finished bathing him when I figured this was my best chance to take a photograph. He's buckskin and white with a black mane and a black and white tail. He's actually a lot lighter, especially on his haunches, when he's dry. Of course, right after this was taken I put him in the turnout paddock and he promptly rolled. You can imagine what he looked like after that!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Wyatt, which I think fits him as he's very much a western-type riding horse and his name makes me think of Wyatt Earp, the western gunslinger hero. And now I have Wyatt and Wally!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wyatt is only 3, so he has a lot to learn. But I like his basic temperament and he has been well started. He's certainly not ready to be ridden along the streets and trails in my neighborhood, but I think very soon I can haul him out to a park for a ride in the Great Outdoors. First, however, I want to spend some time working with him on the ground and in the arena. Step One is teaching him how to longe and be bitted up in side reins to help him become more supple. Problem? He's been worked in a round pen, which is nice, because he grasps the concept of moving around me in a circle. But he has never been officially taught to longe. And I'm trying to longe him in my turnout paddock, which is very much a large rectangle. So we do fine 3/4's of the way around the circle, when the fencing forces Wyatt to turn. But when he doesn't have the fence to guide-- or contain-- him, he tries to retreat to the far end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believe me, Wyatt is about the 87th young horse I've taught to longe, so absolutely nothing he can pull is new to me. He will learn to longe. I am the Borg Queen. He will be assimilated. In fact, by the end of our first session today Wyatt was walking, trotting and halting quite nicely ON A CIRCLE. The canter? Not so much. But give me a week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I always enjoy reading your comments. You can share your thoughts by clicking "comments" below or emailing me at: hc-editor@bowtieinc.com

Wally Gets a Friend!

*Gulp*

I bought a horse today. I know. It happened kind of fast. And I blame it all on my sister, Jill. See, she emailed me a bunch of online horse ads (like from Dreamhorse, Horsetopia, equine.com, etc.) complete with her acerbic comments on each horse's conformation, price and training level or lack thereof. One of her favorites was a 3-year-old buckskin and white tobiano paint gelding. At first I ignored Jill's email, because I'd investigated that same horse previously and his online photo was... not impressive.

Well, now there was a different photo posted with his ad and he looked quite cute. So I called. Turns out the horse was still owned by the people who'd bred him. His dam was still on site. He'd originally been kept as the husband's personal horse (he's a recently retired firefighter) but he really decided that horseback riding was not his cup o' tea and the gelding had not been getting much use lately. With hay prices skyrocketing, it was hard to justify keeping the horse, especially when they had other foals on the ground that needed to be raised and trained.

So once again: ROAD TRIP!

This time, though, Ron only had to drive me about 90 minutes to the high desert. It was a pretty drive. There was a light dusting of snow still on the ground from last night's storm, and it was brisk and breezy. But the Joshua trees (these unusual, dramatic-looking cactus) looked stunning against a backdrop of snowcapped mountains.

I'll spare you a detailed recounting. But in a nutshell, as soon as I saw the young paint in the roundpen, how he moved, how he stood patiently to be groomed and tacked up, I knew I wanted him. I asked to ride him in a simple loose-ring snaffle and a pair of split reins, so I could figure out just how much he knew and how much he didn't yet know. He was very green, but understood the basics of moving away from leg pressure and maintaining a pace. I really liked that he willingly went forward, even though he was a bit on the lazy side (I consider laziness a bonus in a 3-year-0ld). Plus he was very smooth to ride. After a 20-minute ride in the round pen I took him on a trail ride across the desert. I rode with the seller's niece, who was aboard a feisty older mare. The gelding, on the other hand, cruised along on a loose rein. He didn't seem to mind whether we stayed on the marked trail (a gravelly dirt road that seemed to go to nowhere) or wandered through the creosote bushes and sage brush. When we returned to the barn I asked to see him load into the horse trailer.

He hopped in like a champ.

Since I had rushed out there to beat another buyer who was coming for a second look, I decided I had to make a decision. But it was an easy one. The sellers seemed to think I was the better home, too, which made me feel good.

"You make him look so good when you ride him," the seller's husband said. "You bring out the best in him."

So I gave them a deposit and I'm picking him up tomorrow.