Finally, I have all my ducks in a row! When does that ever happen, anyway? I now have approval from all of my sponsors and involved parties to transport Talana from Virginia to Maine, to build her a stall in the barn, to graze her in the meadow behind the house, and to own her outright in my own name. So now I can get started with all the lovely little details of making those things happen! I like details. They keep me busy in those rare times when I have extra energy to spend on something that I can't make happen faster.
I can tell that my mother is happy that I will have Talana with me, but sad to be letting her go. I can also tell that she want to mother me some more and tell me what I should and should not do with Talana. But, well, that's why Talana and me will be up here in Maine. I'm going to see how Talana goes in a sidepull halter, just because that's something I want to do. I'm happy to have her bridle around, too - I might even use it! But one of my favorite things about having her with me, here, is that my mother can say whatever she likes from down in Virginia, and I can still do what I'd like to do with my horse. Oh! It's so very exciting that she'll really be mine!
I'm hoping I can get all the arrangements made to bring her up in the end of June/beginning of July. We will see what the shipper's schedule is like, and how quickly my preparations come together.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Re-connecting with Talana
This year I have the chance to re-connect with Talana, one of the two horses I grew up with. Talana is a little bay Arabian mare. She is twenty nine years old. In some ways, I know Talana very well, and in other ways I would say that I don't know her at all.
On one hand, I trust Talana almost completely. I have led her and sat on her and groomed her since I was very small. I recall how tiny my hand was compared to her nostrils when I fed her clover, fingers held out flat so she could lip up the food easily. Talana also trusts me a great deal; she has always allowed me to handle her feet despite her arthritis, for instance.
On the other hand, Talana and I have some big gaps in our shared history. When she was living with my sister, Talana had all kinds of new and different experiences that I doubt I am aware of. At that time I was deepening my relationship with Mark, who was still at home. Mark became softer and softer in my hands while Talana was away, but both of us missed her terribly. When she returned, Talana appeared to have shut out the world. For the first six months, she wore a perpetual glare no matter what I did. For at least part of the time she was "in training," I know that she was yanked around roughly. I can't help but think that she was tired of trying so hard when the person on the other end of the rope punished her for being confused, uncertain, or uncomfortable.
So I didn't ask anything much of her. I did my best to find her itchy places and scratch them, to find out what was bothering her and soothe it, to spend time with her without asking her to do anything at all. No one had taught me how to rehabilitate a horse from this condition. All I was doing for Talana was the same thing I did for Mark. It did work, and Talana regained her soft eye and mischievous personality with time. I was not allowed to ride her, so everything I did was from the ground. I was not allowed the opportunity to learn any technique to work with her, so I relied on gentle hands, patience, and hope to find my way.
And then I left home. I went off to college with a whispered promise for Talana and Mark: If I can, when I have the chance I will take you with me and do better by you than I can now. I was not sure if this would even be possible, but I thought if the opportunity came along I must try. My parents were not interested in working with the horses, and thus gave them little attention while I was gone. Each time I returned, they recognized me immediately when I got out of the car and galloped up to see me.
Mark was always more delicate than Talana. He would get a runny nose, and she would not. He would lose weight in the winter, and she would not. He would get himself into spaces he should not have, and hurt himself - when Talana would come in after him and have not a scratch on her. In the end, I could not bring Mark with me to my new home: he had grown old, and ill, and he has since passed on. But Talana is still there in my parents' fields.
What has changed? My mother is willing to give Talana over to my care now. She hears how I talk about Fable and the things I am learning, and she recognizes that I can give Talana more than she herself can. Now it is up to me to find a way to trailer an arthritic mare from Virginia to Maine (while not owning a trailer) and find a way to keep her when she gets here. I am hoping to keep her right nearby, but I would need to build a fence and a shelter for her. If not, I will need to board her somewhere. I really don't know how it will work out yet.
But somehow I am going to do this. And I feel capable, at last. I am still not experienced - there is so much to learn, so many things I don't even have intermediate skill at! But I trust Talana. I know that I still have gentle hands, patience, and hope, and I can learn the techniques I was missing to show her that things are different now. I want to ride her without putting a bit in her mouth, so that she has a chance to relax without fear of my hands. I want to show her that we can play games on the ground without punishment or anger. Yes, Talana is nearly thirty years old. She's not going to jump big jumps, or race around barrels, or do various other intensely athletic things at this age. I don't care. Talana and I have a chance to spend however many years we have left, together - and that could be quite a few!
On one hand, I trust Talana almost completely. I have led her and sat on her and groomed her since I was very small. I recall how tiny my hand was compared to her nostrils when I fed her clover, fingers held out flat so she could lip up the food easily. Talana also trusts me a great deal; she has always allowed me to handle her feet despite her arthritis, for instance.
On the other hand, Talana and I have some big gaps in our shared history. When she was living with my sister, Talana had all kinds of new and different experiences that I doubt I am aware of. At that time I was deepening my relationship with Mark, who was still at home. Mark became softer and softer in my hands while Talana was away, but both of us missed her terribly. When she returned, Talana appeared to have shut out the world. For the first six months, she wore a perpetual glare no matter what I did. For at least part of the time she was "in training," I know that she was yanked around roughly. I can't help but think that she was tired of trying so hard when the person on the other end of the rope punished her for being confused, uncertain, or uncomfortable.
So I didn't ask anything much of her. I did my best to find her itchy places and scratch them, to find out what was bothering her and soothe it, to spend time with her without asking her to do anything at all. No one had taught me how to rehabilitate a horse from this condition. All I was doing for Talana was the same thing I did for Mark. It did work, and Talana regained her soft eye and mischievous personality with time. I was not allowed to ride her, so everything I did was from the ground. I was not allowed the opportunity to learn any technique to work with her, so I relied on gentle hands, patience, and hope to find my way.
And then I left home. I went off to college with a whispered promise for Talana and Mark: If I can, when I have the chance I will take you with me and do better by you than I can now. I was not sure if this would even be possible, but I thought if the opportunity came along I must try. My parents were not interested in working with the horses, and thus gave them little attention while I was gone. Each time I returned, they recognized me immediately when I got out of the car and galloped up to see me.
Mark was always more delicate than Talana. He would get a runny nose, and she would not. He would lose weight in the winter, and she would not. He would get himself into spaces he should not have, and hurt himself - when Talana would come in after him and have not a scratch on her. In the end, I could not bring Mark with me to my new home: he had grown old, and ill, and he has since passed on. But Talana is still there in my parents' fields.
What has changed? My mother is willing to give Talana over to my care now. She hears how I talk about Fable and the things I am learning, and she recognizes that I can give Talana more than she herself can. Now it is up to me to find a way to trailer an arthritic mare from Virginia to Maine (while not owning a trailer) and find a way to keep her when she gets here. I am hoping to keep her right nearby, but I would need to build a fence and a shelter for her. If not, I will need to board her somewhere. I really don't know how it will work out yet.
But somehow I am going to do this. And I feel capable, at last. I am still not experienced - there is so much to learn, so many things I don't even have intermediate skill at! But I trust Talana. I know that I still have gentle hands, patience, and hope, and I can learn the techniques I was missing to show her that things are different now. I want to ride her without putting a bit in her mouth, so that she has a chance to relax without fear of my hands. I want to show her that we can play games on the ground without punishment or anger. Yes, Talana is nearly thirty years old. She's not going to jump big jumps, or race around barrels, or do various other intensely athletic things at this age. I don't care. Talana and I have a chance to spend however many years we have left, together - and that could be quite a few!
Horsemanship Clinic with Chris Lombard - pictures! (part three)
This is probably my favorite out of the photos I took. This is Suzanne working with Dock. I love the motion in the image where you can see how Dock's legs are working, but you also see that his eye is soft. He knows what he's doing, so he's not worried or tense. He's got his ear on Suzanne, while being aware of what's around him.
Here are some more pictures of Suzanne and Dock.
I was watching Suzanne's other horse, Franka, so closely for most of the clinic that I didn't take pictures of her in action. Franka was learning a lot of new things, and I was learning so much watching that process that I didn't want to get my camera in the way and miss something. But I did catch her rolling while she wasn't working!
It looked like a very refreshing roll, with a good hard shake after. Fable likes to roll that way, too.
Here are some more pictures of Suzanne and Dock.
I was watching Suzanne's other horse, Franka, so closely for most of the clinic that I didn't take pictures of her in action. Franka was learning a lot of new things, and I was learning so much watching that process that I didn't want to get my camera in the way and miss something. But I did catch her rolling while she wasn't working!
It looked like a very refreshing roll, with a good hard shake after. Fable likes to roll that way, too.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Horsemanship Clinic with Chris Lombard - pictures! (part two)
When I arrived on Friday afternoon, the clinic had been going on for several hours already. They were working on driving with long reins, which I had never seen before. It took me a little while of watching to figure out how it works, but it looks like a lot of fun.
This is our host, Karen, and her horse Zena. I noticed that Zena moves very expressively, and she responds to very subtle cues. I enjoyed watching to see if I could spot what Karen was doing that Zena was responding to. Sometimes I could see it, and sometimes not.
Everyone made sure to praise their horses both while they were working and after a job well done. I saw that all the horses appeared more relaxed after each session than they were before. I am a big believer that this is the way training should be!
This type of work looks like something I could learn how to do. Just from watching, it looks to me like a logical progression from work with a single long line. You can do a lot of the same things, but with clearer communication due to the second line. Maybe you can even do more things because of this. It also seems like a good way to teach the horse about things you want them to do in response to cues from the reins, without the added complication of actually being on their back. What I was watching on Friday and Saturday was beyond my current skill level, since this would be a new technique for me. But the more I watched and listened, the more I began to think I could figure out how to get started with it if someone handed me the reins. It was delightful to see this more advanced work. I did not get bored watching, because I was busy using my brain to work out what was going on.
I also thought it was amazing how calm the horses were about the whole thing. They've got long lines draped around them, flapping around and touching their legs and backs. They've got a bunch of people talking and looking at them, plus the person working with them, who was often behind them or next to their hind end and hard to see. And then, there are other horses all around and in the same ring while they are working. That can be a lot to take in, yet even the less experienced horses were comfortable enough to act like they felt safe. But you know, I felt very safe, too. I often do not feel safe around so many new people, but the whole atmosphere seemed to promote a sense of stability.
This is our host, Karen, and her horse Zena. I noticed that Zena moves very expressively, and she responds to very subtle cues. I enjoyed watching to see if I could spot what Karen was doing that Zena was responding to. Sometimes I could see it, and sometimes not.
Everyone made sure to praise their horses both while they were working and after a job well done. I saw that all the horses appeared more relaxed after each session than they were before. I am a big believer that this is the way training should be!
I also thought it was amazing how calm the horses were about the whole thing. They've got long lines draped around them, flapping around and touching their legs and backs. They've got a bunch of people talking and looking at them, plus the person working with them, who was often behind them or next to their hind end and hard to see. And then, there are other horses all around and in the same ring while they are working. That can be a lot to take in, yet even the less experienced horses were comfortable enough to act like they felt safe. But you know, I felt very safe, too. I often do not feel safe around so many new people, but the whole atmosphere seemed to promote a sense of stability.
Horsemanship Clinic with Chris Lombard - pictures! (part one)
I made sure to pack my camera and take extra batteries to the clinic. I am so glad I did, because I took a lot of photos, and a high percentage of them look good! If you click on the photos, they get bigger. This will be a multi-post series to get all the best pictures up.
There was one horse at the clinic who I have met before: Cisco. I was sitting on the ground to take pictures, and I guess he wanted to get a closer look at me.
Maybe he was saying, "Last time I saw you, I could swear you were taller. What are you doing down there?"
Cisco made a friend this weekend. Meg the pony was in the enclosure next to him overnight, and in the morning we found them like this:
It's hard to tell from this photo because of the hill, but Meg is a lot smaller. I think they are a cute pair!
There was one horse at the clinic who I have met before: Cisco. I was sitting on the ground to take pictures, and I guess he wanted to get a closer look at me.
Maybe he was saying, "Last time I saw you, I could swear you were taller. What are you doing down there?"
Cisco made a friend this weekend. Meg the pony was in the enclosure next to him overnight, and in the morning we found them like this:
It's hard to tell from this photo because of the hill, but Meg is a lot smaller. I think they are a cute pair!
Horsemanship Clinic with Chris Lombard
I just had the best weekend I've had all spring. I went to a beautiful place in Maine I'd never been before, and met several wonderful people I'd never met before, and I got to watch them work with beautiful horses for two days. The spirit of the occasion was very positive from everyone, and it was such a healthy thing for my soul.
Working with cats at the shelter is something I feel that I must do, and I love those cats very much. But it's unavoidable that the shelter environment is stressful, both for the people and the critters. There is always a war between positive things, such as a shy cat beginning to accept my touch, and negative things, such as another 13 year old cat who has been surrendered. We do our best to focus on the positive things, but the context of the shelter makes that a juggling act.
At the clinic this past weekend, however, there was so much good cheer going around. You could see it in the horses. Even when Meg was irritated at Dock, who was bugging her from across the fence, as soon as she got past him she shrugged off her annoyance and got back to enjoying the rest of her trip around the arena.
I really enjoyed being around the horses. I have not had an opportunity to spend time around so many different sizes of horse at once, and it was great fun to see how they were similar and different. The majority of the horses I have been around in my life have been Arabians, and they are small, like me. I loved seeing the taller horses this weekend, and watching the same techniques I have been practicing and reading about work just as well with animals who are so gigantic! I guess what it comes down to is that the horse's mind is fundamentally the same size and shape, no matter what her body looks like.
Working with cats at the shelter is something I feel that I must do, and I love those cats very much. But it's unavoidable that the shelter environment is stressful, both for the people and the critters. There is always a war between positive things, such as a shy cat beginning to accept my touch, and negative things, such as another 13 year old cat who has been surrendered. We do our best to focus on the positive things, but the context of the shelter makes that a juggling act.
At the clinic this past weekend, however, there was so much good cheer going around. You could see it in the horses. Even when Meg was irritated at Dock, who was bugging her from across the fence, as soon as she got past him she shrugged off her annoyance and got back to enjoying the rest of her trip around the arena.
I really enjoyed being around the horses. I have not had an opportunity to spend time around so many different sizes of horse at once, and it was great fun to see how they were similar and different. The majority of the horses I have been around in my life have been Arabians, and they are small, like me. I loved seeing the taller horses this weekend, and watching the same techniques I have been practicing and reading about work just as well with animals who are so gigantic! I guess what it comes down to is that the horse's mind is fundamentally the same size and shape, no matter what her body looks like.
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