I bought Talana a present. It's a new sidepull and matching reins. They are dark green, and they look really good on her. I thought that purchasing one that was made by somebody who makes a lot of them would result in a better-made piece of tack than the experimental one that I made. I was right! It was a good choice. It looks lovely on her, and fits well. She also responds nicely to it, just like the one I made.
My hoof trimming adventures have been going so well lately. Talana seems more comfortable than I've ever seen her. I will have a post about that more in depth at some point. The other day, just before this awful first snowstorm that came through, we went down in the meadow right near the river and rode around. It was Talana's first time being ridden right next to the Big Scary Water, and I was also riding bareback. She did very well. She kept wanting to turn and canter for the house, but when I reminded her that we weren't going to do that, she did a good job listening and trotting in the direction I was actually steering her.
I must be less stressed lately, because my muscles were loose enough to be comfortable trotting around a lot. I seem to be able to do a sitting trot very well bareback when my body cooperates. Talana was happy and forward, and I was happy and looking to the horizon. We went up the hill and down, and I was able to use my hands and seat for steering as well as staying attached. We even had an exciting moment when both of us realized at the same time that there was a big rock hiding in the grass right in front of us. I settled myself and prepared for Talana to dodge to one side or the other, but instead I found that we were flying through the air! It wasn't a huge rock (compared to some others out there), but it was my first jump bareback, and my first jump on Talana. She did a great job taking care not to hit the rock, and I guess my seat must be ok, because the landing didn't bother me at all, and nor did the three little bucks she threw after the jump! These were also my first bareback bucks. I'm pretty sure Talana was just surprised about the rock, and expressing her displeasure at its sudden appearance. She straightened right up and kept trotting onward as though nothing happened after showing that mean old rock her heels.
I wish my friend who was watching could have gotten it on video so that I could see what we looked like jumping over the rock. Talana isn't "supposed" to jump. She's "supposed" to have arthritis in her back legs, and at the very least in the past she has seemed stiff back there. But I've been noticing after the last couple of hoof trims she's been a lot less sore. The fact that she offered to jump with me on her back (which I'd never have asked her to do on purpose) seems to indicate that she's feeling very well indeed!
I must also admit that I'm very curious what I looked like going over a jump and some bucking bareback. I want to know what I did right, and what I can improve. Because, yeah, I hung on and felt mostly balanced. But all I have to go on is my memory of how I felt at the time. I am pretty sure that when Talana was bucking I started looking down at her neck instead of up at the horizon. What I'm not sure about is how much I did that. I felt that it unbalanced me a little bit. I will keep working on getting my head up. My shoulders have a habit of curling in when I'm tense, so I often have to remind myself to bring my head up and my shoulders back. Talana always tells me when it's happening by switching from her typical comfortable trot/jog to a choppy, short-strided trot that is very bouncy and uncomfortable to sit. I am not sure whether her nice trot is actually her using a different gait, or simply the result of an extended, more comfortable stride. I am hoping to get someone to video us so that I can have a look at the difference. I have been reading that some Arabians have a sort of "jogging" gait that they use in place of trotting, and I'm wondering if that's what she's been doing. She definitely trots when I watch her on the ground, though, so maybe not.
Her stall in the barn is partially constructed now. She has a floor, but no walls. So when the big blizzard came this past weekend, I stacked up her hay into stall walls and let her in. I figured she wouldn't be too interested in the rest of the barn while surrounded by hay, and I was right. She pulled down a bale or two, but I was able to put them back up. What a good girl! She ended up using more hay than usual, since she had access to more and made a nest out of it to sleep in during the night. But she needed to be inside for that terrible weather, so it was worth it. The walls will be up very soon, and then we'll have a proper stall for her to use. I'm planning to let her go in and out at will.
Showing posts with label riding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label riding. Show all posts
Friday, November 7, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Rewards
I've been thinking about how to give Talana rewards when she does things I like, and, conversely, to provide consequences for behavior I don't like. This way, it becomes easy for her to do the right thing, and hard to do the wrong thing.
There's always the example of verbal praise for good behavior, and verbal scolding for undesirable behavior. We humans are pretty good at that. We are such verbal creatures. How many of our animals learn the word, "No!"? And, "Good boy!"? But that's not really enough. The momentary pleasant sound of a happy human is often paltry when compared to the joy of racing away across the grass, or when compared to the deep fear of That Thing Over There That I'm Pretty Sure is Going to Eat Me. So as I get to know my animals, I like to learn what it is that they like, and dislike. What is my dog's favorite treat? What is his least favorite thing to do/what is hard for him to do? What is a neutral thing that he doesn't care about? What toys does he prefer?
I have been learning these things about Talana. Some are obvious: She loves apples and carrots. Grain is pretty great, too. She doesn't like it when I make her think too hard, but a bit of a puzzle can be fun, especially when she gets the right answer. But more specifically, what things make this horse tick?
Talana doesn't like groundwork very much. She'll do various things if you ask, but she's always worried about The Evil Circle Game. Letting her know that she can stop is a reward when I am on the ground. "Ok, good job, stand still a moment," is a good way to let things sink in when she's just done the correct thing. Or even, "Ok, good job, slow down some," will let her settle a bit and think things over. When I push her, she's worried. When I let the pressure evaporate, she feels safer. Sometimes I want her to think a bit harder, so that is when I move her feet. Sometimes I want her to relax, so I might move her feet just enough to make her worry about how much work she's going to have to do, and then release the pressure and let her halt. "Whew!" She says, "That was a close one, I almost had to do real work there! I'm so glad I get to stand now."
She's very different under saddle. Talana likes to move. She wants to go see what's over there; she wants to trot up this hill; she wants to canter around just for fun. She likes moving her body, and she seems to like taking me along. Talana has gone on a number of endurance rides, and I think she must like being a trail horse. What is the point of just standing around now that I'm sitting up there? We're all ready to go - let's go. This means that asking her to halt too much makes her frustrated. "Why aren't we going already? What now, silly human?" So when I want to remind her that I am the one calling the shots, I sometimes ask her to halt. But I don't make her stand around for a long time; if she halted nicely I ask her to Walk On, because that is her reward for stopping so well. Doing this a number of times as we're just riding around helps her remember that it's not such a pain to stop, because she gets to go again pretty soon. It helps her keep from being fidgety while we're halted for me to do my stretches.
The other thing she really likes is when I dismount. That is a huge reward for her. Sometimes when she does something really well, I praise her lavishly while asking for a halt, and then hop off while still praising her. I rub her shoulder and face and let her stand for a bit without me sitting on her. It seemed kind of funny to me when I first thought of trying it. "Isn't it wrong to get off the horse when you're supposed to be riding around?" But I tell you what, when I hop right back on after doing that, she does such a good job with whatever that thing was, again and again. It's such a big statement to her when I get down. Even if both of us want to keep working, giving her such a big break like that seems to really get her attention. "Hey, I did something good! Whatever that was, it worked!" And then when I get back on, I can ask for that same thing and she is delighted to do it just right, many times. This is part of why I insist that she stand perfectly still, no fidgeting, with her ears on me, when I dismount. I want to reward her for being extremely stable at that critical moment. And lifting my weight off of her back is a big reward.
I'm not saying I hop up and hop down all the time while we're working. It's kind of inconvenient. But for important things, I'm happy to do it. For instance, Talana is kind of afraid of the river. It runs down past the bottom of the meadow, and whenever she comes around the trees and gets a good look at it, her eyes bug out. All that water! Yikes! She doesn't like to walk toward it when we are riding. So, I walk her toward it at the end of our ride. We go down about as far as I think she can handle, and then when she's doing a good job walking forward without resisting, it's time for us to halt. I go ahead and take the saddle off right there, so that she's thinking about how nice it is to have the girth loosened (while looking at the water), how nice it is to get the saddle taken off (while looking at the water), how nice it is to get petted and stand there in the pleasant breeze (while looking at the water). Before long, looking at the water will seem like a nice thing to do, too, because of these associations.
I think of these things as tools in my training tool box. The more I work with Talana, the more I can develop finesse in my communication with her using these tools and others I find. I know that I can tell her when she's doing something I like, and make it feel good to her to do that thing. That makes both of us happy.
There's always the example of verbal praise for good behavior, and verbal scolding for undesirable behavior. We humans are pretty good at that. We are such verbal creatures. How many of our animals learn the word, "No!"? And, "Good boy!"? But that's not really enough. The momentary pleasant sound of a happy human is often paltry when compared to the joy of racing away across the grass, or when compared to the deep fear of That Thing Over There That I'm Pretty Sure is Going to Eat Me. So as I get to know my animals, I like to learn what it is that they like, and dislike. What is my dog's favorite treat? What is his least favorite thing to do/what is hard for him to do? What is a neutral thing that he doesn't care about? What toys does he prefer?
I have been learning these things about Talana. Some are obvious: She loves apples and carrots. Grain is pretty great, too. She doesn't like it when I make her think too hard, but a bit of a puzzle can be fun, especially when she gets the right answer. But more specifically, what things make this horse tick?
Talana doesn't like groundwork very much. She'll do various things if you ask, but she's always worried about The Evil Circle Game. Letting her know that she can stop is a reward when I am on the ground. "Ok, good job, stand still a moment," is a good way to let things sink in when she's just done the correct thing. Or even, "Ok, good job, slow down some," will let her settle a bit and think things over. When I push her, she's worried. When I let the pressure evaporate, she feels safer. Sometimes I want her to think a bit harder, so that is when I move her feet. Sometimes I want her to relax, so I might move her feet just enough to make her worry about how much work she's going to have to do, and then release the pressure and let her halt. "Whew!" She says, "That was a close one, I almost had to do real work there! I'm so glad I get to stand now."
She's very different under saddle. Talana likes to move. She wants to go see what's over there; she wants to trot up this hill; she wants to canter around just for fun. She likes moving her body, and she seems to like taking me along. Talana has gone on a number of endurance rides, and I think she must like being a trail horse. What is the point of just standing around now that I'm sitting up there? We're all ready to go - let's go. This means that asking her to halt too much makes her frustrated. "Why aren't we going already? What now, silly human?" So when I want to remind her that I am the one calling the shots, I sometimes ask her to halt. But I don't make her stand around for a long time; if she halted nicely I ask her to Walk On, because that is her reward for stopping so well. Doing this a number of times as we're just riding around helps her remember that it's not such a pain to stop, because she gets to go again pretty soon. It helps her keep from being fidgety while we're halted for me to do my stretches.
The other thing she really likes is when I dismount. That is a huge reward for her. Sometimes when she does something really well, I praise her lavishly while asking for a halt, and then hop off while still praising her. I rub her shoulder and face and let her stand for a bit without me sitting on her. It seemed kind of funny to me when I first thought of trying it. "Isn't it wrong to get off the horse when you're supposed to be riding around?" But I tell you what, when I hop right back on after doing that, she does such a good job with whatever that thing was, again and again. It's such a big statement to her when I get down. Even if both of us want to keep working, giving her such a big break like that seems to really get her attention. "Hey, I did something good! Whatever that was, it worked!" And then when I get back on, I can ask for that same thing and she is delighted to do it just right, many times. This is part of why I insist that she stand perfectly still, no fidgeting, with her ears on me, when I dismount. I want to reward her for being extremely stable at that critical moment. And lifting my weight off of her back is a big reward.
I'm not saying I hop up and hop down all the time while we're working. It's kind of inconvenient. But for important things, I'm happy to do it. For instance, Talana is kind of afraid of the river. It runs down past the bottom of the meadow, and whenever she comes around the trees and gets a good look at it, her eyes bug out. All that water! Yikes! She doesn't like to walk toward it when we are riding. So, I walk her toward it at the end of our ride. We go down about as far as I think she can handle, and then when she's doing a good job walking forward without resisting, it's time for us to halt. I go ahead and take the saddle off right there, so that she's thinking about how nice it is to have the girth loosened (while looking at the water), how nice it is to get the saddle taken off (while looking at the water), how nice it is to get petted and stand there in the pleasant breeze (while looking at the water). Before long, looking at the water will seem like a nice thing to do, too, because of these associations.
I think of these things as tools in my training tool box. The more I work with Talana, the more I can develop finesse in my communication with her using these tools and others I find. I know that I can tell her when she's doing something I like, and make it feel good to her to do that thing. That makes both of us happy.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Riding, standing nicely
My stirrups arrived. Talana was a little less pleased about the saddle when she felt how much heavier it is with stirrups! She's a good girl, so all she did was make faces and try to walk away from it when I went to put it on the second time. But for her, that means "I don't think I want to stick around for this! See ya!"
Handily, this provided another opportunity for us to work on ground tying, which is one of our ongoing projects. Talana is pretty good about standing, until she sees me coming with something she doesn't want. Which really means she needs some work on that. I can't have her trying to walk off while I'm doing stuff with her.
I've been going at this a couple of different ways. One is to have a halter and lead shank on her, and drop the lead to the ground while I'm grooming and tacking her up. If she's moving around, I pick up the lead and back her a bit, then walk her forward to The Spot and have her stand again. She finds out that she can work hard without getting anywhere, or she can stand nicely. She's making good progress this way. The other thing I've been doing is to walk up to her without a halter and just start doing things with her while she's at liberty in her fence. I know she's not going to "get away" in there, so it's safe for me to go about things differently. Talana has come to recognize my grooming bucket. She likes it because it's got nice grooming tools in it that make her feel good, so she usually walks up to me when I bring it in. But at first when I brought in the saddle, she'd turn and walk away before I approached her. I know she has bad memories about being ridden, so my goal here is to teach her that she can trust me. Even when I'm holding the saddle.
One of the ways I want her to learn to trust me is to learn that I'm consistent. If she walks away while I am picking out her feet and between hooves, I follow her with the pick. If she keeps walking away, I increase my energy and send her away at a trot until I see her paying attention to me. I don't worry about circles; I actually jog along nearby and we usually go in a straight-ish line. Usually in a moment I see her ear flick back to me. Then I bring my energy down to a walk and give her a chance to respond. Typically she'll also slow to a walk and lower her head a little. Then I turn away from her while inviting her to come with me, and we walk together for a few steps. When I'm ready, I come to a halt and ask her to Whoa. She stops, I go back to picking her feet. To backtrack a bit, if she doesn't slow to walk with me, I go back to jogging her around for a bit and try again when she looks more ready. Generally, this whole process takes about thirty seconds. Afterword, Talana refocuses on me and stands very well. Back to my point about consistency: I do the same thing if she's walking away from the saddle. I know her history with saddles. She thinks they aren't nearly as nice as a hoof pick. But I treat them as though they are the same. The saddle isn't any scarier, and she needs to know that I expect the same behavior in regards to the saddle as to the pick, even if she's not as emotionally comfortable with the saddle. With time, I'm hoping this will change her response to the saddle - Oh, it's this thing that gets put on me after grooming sometimes, rather than, Eek! Not the saddle, those make me feel weird! We've done this a few times now, and she's getting better and better about it. I can tell that she's already starting to understand. She can walk away, but I'm not going to stop tacking her up. It'll just take longer.
The other important part of this process is that I make sure not to hurt her or frighten her. The last thing she needs is one more bad experience with the saddle! I move smoothly and confidently, and when I tighten the girth I try to do it without yanking or pinching. Then when I am riding, I make sure to give her a good experience as well. I don't ask her to do things that will make me off-balance enough to bounce on her back, or if I do I don't punish her for expressing discomfort. When she does what I ask her to do, I praise her and reward her for a job well done. When I need to correct her, I am firm but fair. A small thing doesn't need a big correction - not with Talana. She "hears" the subtlest movements I give her. No need to suddenly act like the world is ending, or to frighten her or give the idea that I'm a big angry monster on her back. "Nope, that's not what I asked for," is all I need to communicate.
I find that Talana is responding well to this approach. She always seems disappointed when I walk away. She's not anxious to gallop away from me when I release her. I think she is discovering that it's all right to trust me, and that I won't do anything mean to her. She is starting to act more relaxed with the saddle. I am so proud of how well she stood for me to tack her up yesterday. I didn't put anything on her head at all until I'd tightened the girth most of the way, and when I walked away to get the bridle, she looked after me for a moment, then followed me. She still likes to stick her nose in the sidepull for me to make it easy to put on. The other day, she even acted like she expected a bit, lipping at the reins!
On one hand, it seems like we haven't done much. "All" I'm doing is riding her around at the walk and sometimes trotting a little. We haven't been riding for long periods of time. But on the other hand, Talana is learning some important things. She is learning that she can trust me. She is learning what cues I use and how I expect her to respond to them. I am learning, too. I am learning how she moves, what things are rewards to her and what things are neutral or unpleasant to her. So, overall, I think we've made a lot of progress.
Handily, this provided another opportunity for us to work on ground tying, which is one of our ongoing projects. Talana is pretty good about standing, until she sees me coming with something she doesn't want. Which really means she needs some work on that. I can't have her trying to walk off while I'm doing stuff with her.
I've been going at this a couple of different ways. One is to have a halter and lead shank on her, and drop the lead to the ground while I'm grooming and tacking her up. If she's moving around, I pick up the lead and back her a bit, then walk her forward to The Spot and have her stand again. She finds out that she can work hard without getting anywhere, or she can stand nicely. She's making good progress this way. The other thing I've been doing is to walk up to her without a halter and just start doing things with her while she's at liberty in her fence. I know she's not going to "get away" in there, so it's safe for me to go about things differently. Talana has come to recognize my grooming bucket. She likes it because it's got nice grooming tools in it that make her feel good, so she usually walks up to me when I bring it in. But at first when I brought in the saddle, she'd turn and walk away before I approached her. I know she has bad memories about being ridden, so my goal here is to teach her that she can trust me. Even when I'm holding the saddle.
One of the ways I want her to learn to trust me is to learn that I'm consistent. If she walks away while I am picking out her feet and between hooves, I follow her with the pick. If she keeps walking away, I increase my energy and send her away at a trot until I see her paying attention to me. I don't worry about circles; I actually jog along nearby and we usually go in a straight-ish line. Usually in a moment I see her ear flick back to me. Then I bring my energy down to a walk and give her a chance to respond. Typically she'll also slow to a walk and lower her head a little. Then I turn away from her while inviting her to come with me, and we walk together for a few steps. When I'm ready, I come to a halt and ask her to Whoa. She stops, I go back to picking her feet. To backtrack a bit, if she doesn't slow to walk with me, I go back to jogging her around for a bit and try again when she looks more ready. Generally, this whole process takes about thirty seconds. Afterword, Talana refocuses on me and stands very well. Back to my point about consistency: I do the same thing if she's walking away from the saddle. I know her history with saddles. She thinks they aren't nearly as nice as a hoof pick. But I treat them as though they are the same. The saddle isn't any scarier, and she needs to know that I expect the same behavior in regards to the saddle as to the pick, even if she's not as emotionally comfortable with the saddle. With time, I'm hoping this will change her response to the saddle - Oh, it's this thing that gets put on me after grooming sometimes, rather than, Eek! Not the saddle, those make me feel weird! We've done this a few times now, and she's getting better and better about it. I can tell that she's already starting to understand. She can walk away, but I'm not going to stop tacking her up. It'll just take longer.
The other important part of this process is that I make sure not to hurt her or frighten her. The last thing she needs is one more bad experience with the saddle! I move smoothly and confidently, and when I tighten the girth I try to do it without yanking or pinching. Then when I am riding, I make sure to give her a good experience as well. I don't ask her to do things that will make me off-balance enough to bounce on her back, or if I do I don't punish her for expressing discomfort. When she does what I ask her to do, I praise her and reward her for a job well done. When I need to correct her, I am firm but fair. A small thing doesn't need a big correction - not with Talana. She "hears" the subtlest movements I give her. No need to suddenly act like the world is ending, or to frighten her or give the idea that I'm a big angry monster on her back. "Nope, that's not what I asked for," is all I need to communicate.
I find that Talana is responding well to this approach. She always seems disappointed when I walk away. She's not anxious to gallop away from me when I release her. I think she is discovering that it's all right to trust me, and that I won't do anything mean to her. She is starting to act more relaxed with the saddle. I am so proud of how well she stood for me to tack her up yesterday. I didn't put anything on her head at all until I'd tightened the girth most of the way, and when I walked away to get the bridle, she looked after me for a moment, then followed me. She still likes to stick her nose in the sidepull for me to make it easy to put on. The other day, she even acted like she expected a bit, lipping at the reins!
On one hand, it seems like we haven't done much. "All" I'm doing is riding her around at the walk and sometimes trotting a little. We haven't been riding for long periods of time. But on the other hand, Talana is learning some important things. She is learning that she can trust me. She is learning what cues I use and how I expect her to respond to them. I am learning, too. I am learning how she moves, what things are rewards to her and what things are neutral or unpleasant to her. So, overall, I think we've made a lot of progress.
Monday, September 1, 2014
More riding adventures
For the last few days, my muscles have been sore and more tense. I've still been riding, but less trotting lately because I feel unbalanced again. I am certain that it's what my body is doing on a given day that allows me to sit correctly and comfortably. Days when I am tense - or anxious at all, even if I'm enjoying my time with Talana - I am just not able to balance when we are trotting. It's kind of frustrating, but this is what my body does. So I just work with what I've got on a given day.
My bareback pad arrived. It is a Best Friends Comfort Plus. It is extra cushy on top. My poor seat bones don't have much padding on them because I am underweight, so I thought that would be helpful. It is! Talana is shaped very nicely for bareback riding. Her back is muscled and rounded, and her withers don't stick up like some horses' do. But I know that when we trot, I am poking her in the back, because I get sore, too. The only problem I've had so far is not a problem with the pad, but with me. My thighs don't want to relax completely. This is a general problem that I have, riding or not. And so, when there is anything at all between me and my horse's back, I have to concentrate and practice a lot to get my legs to drape around properly. At first, I was very unbalanced on the bareback pad because of that same cushy stuff that I want there! But I realized right away that it was me, not the equipment, and I've been practicing in the pad some more and it's going better now. It is nice and grippy on top, so some almost falls that I've had have not actually ended with me on the ground, but rather hanging on sort of sideways as Talana stops. Then I can grab her mane and swing myself back up again. The pad doesn't seem to slip, so that is good. I think both of us like the pad now that we are getting used to it.
Talana seems to think that it is time we move on to cantering. She keeps offering to canter when we are trotting, and while she has what feels like a very nice canter, I'm not really ready. I don't want to be going that fast until I feel like I can give useful directions to her at the trot. I can hang on; cantering is easy that way. But steering is important, too... I guess Talana is less concerned about that, since she knows where we are going. Thankfully, I have a nice respectful horse, and I am able to remind her that we are not going to canter until I ask for it. Or trot, for that matter - she loves to move out to the faster gaits. When I feel her getting ready to trot prematurely, I gently squeeze my hands on the reins, just enough so that she can feel it. Usually she settles back into a walk right away, but if she trots anyway I turn her tightly one direction or the other and then we continue on at a walk. She seems to think it's a lot more work to turn than to trot forward, so now that she's learned that this is the consequence of trotting without permission, she's making the error less often. I like this method, because it doesn't hurt her in any way, it's easy for me to do while staying balanced, and it does seem to work well. She is responding nicely and doesn't even seem to get irritated about it; just takes the feedback and goes, "Oops, I guess I can't do that."
I am still very happy with the bridle I made. Talana goes well in it. She is still happy to put her nose right in when I offer it to her. She also responds very well to cues with it, and I really can't say I miss having a bit in the least. I suspect Talana doesn't miss the bit, either. I am giving her softer cues in this sidepull than I ever did with a snaffle, and she's responding more quickly and with little to no objection. She has stopped pulling her head down when we trot. Now she only does that if we are walking in a direction she doesn't want to go in, and then I pull her head up and direct her a bit more firmly the way I want to go, and she shakes her head and we go.
I also talked to my mother about saddles the other day. She suggested that I try using an extra, much thicker pad in addition to the thinner one that she gave me. The idea there is that it will be an extra layer of cushion between any bouncing or ill-fitting of the saddle and Talana's back. I figured it was worth a try at least, so I found some thick foam and gave it a try.
Well, I'm still not convinced that the saddle fits Talana "properly," but if this is how Mom rode her way back when, I can see how that worked. The extra padding does appear to make Talana sufficiently comfortable with the saddle - we trotted, and then we cantered, and then we trotted some more, and Talana was not at all fussy about it. So I have decided that as long as she's not acting like it bothers her, this is how I will use her saddle. And I've gone ahead and ordered some stirrups so that I can ride around in it, because without stirrups I bounce and slide like crazy unless I hang onto the pommel with one hand and Talana's mane with the other. Oh, yeah, steering? Never mind about that. I need stirrups! They will arrive in about a week. I am looking forward to it, because then I will be able to hang on securely and do more interesting things.
My bareback pad arrived. It is a Best Friends Comfort Plus. It is extra cushy on top. My poor seat bones don't have much padding on them because I am underweight, so I thought that would be helpful. It is! Talana is shaped very nicely for bareback riding. Her back is muscled and rounded, and her withers don't stick up like some horses' do. But I know that when we trot, I am poking her in the back, because I get sore, too. The only problem I've had so far is not a problem with the pad, but with me. My thighs don't want to relax completely. This is a general problem that I have, riding or not. And so, when there is anything at all between me and my horse's back, I have to concentrate and practice a lot to get my legs to drape around properly. At first, I was very unbalanced on the bareback pad because of that same cushy stuff that I want there! But I realized right away that it was me, not the equipment, and I've been practicing in the pad some more and it's going better now. It is nice and grippy on top, so some almost falls that I've had have not actually ended with me on the ground, but rather hanging on sort of sideways as Talana stops. Then I can grab her mane and swing myself back up again. The pad doesn't seem to slip, so that is good. I think both of us like the pad now that we are getting used to it.
Talana seems to think that it is time we move on to cantering. She keeps offering to canter when we are trotting, and while she has what feels like a very nice canter, I'm not really ready. I don't want to be going that fast until I feel like I can give useful directions to her at the trot. I can hang on; cantering is easy that way. But steering is important, too... I guess Talana is less concerned about that, since she knows where we are going. Thankfully, I have a nice respectful horse, and I am able to remind her that we are not going to canter until I ask for it. Or trot, for that matter - she loves to move out to the faster gaits. When I feel her getting ready to trot prematurely, I gently squeeze my hands on the reins, just enough so that she can feel it. Usually she settles back into a walk right away, but if she trots anyway I turn her tightly one direction or the other and then we continue on at a walk. She seems to think it's a lot more work to turn than to trot forward, so now that she's learned that this is the consequence of trotting without permission, she's making the error less often. I like this method, because it doesn't hurt her in any way, it's easy for me to do while staying balanced, and it does seem to work well. She is responding nicely and doesn't even seem to get irritated about it; just takes the feedback and goes, "Oops, I guess I can't do that."
I am still very happy with the bridle I made. Talana goes well in it. She is still happy to put her nose right in when I offer it to her. She also responds very well to cues with it, and I really can't say I miss having a bit in the least. I suspect Talana doesn't miss the bit, either. I am giving her softer cues in this sidepull than I ever did with a snaffle, and she's responding more quickly and with little to no objection. She has stopped pulling her head down when we trot. Now she only does that if we are walking in a direction she doesn't want to go in, and then I pull her head up and direct her a bit more firmly the way I want to go, and she shakes her head and we go.
I also talked to my mother about saddles the other day. She suggested that I try using an extra, much thicker pad in addition to the thinner one that she gave me. The idea there is that it will be an extra layer of cushion between any bouncing or ill-fitting of the saddle and Talana's back. I figured it was worth a try at least, so I found some thick foam and gave it a try.
Well, I'm still not convinced that the saddle fits Talana "properly," but if this is how Mom rode her way back when, I can see how that worked. The extra padding does appear to make Talana sufficiently comfortable with the saddle - we trotted, and then we cantered, and then we trotted some more, and Talana was not at all fussy about it. So I have decided that as long as she's not acting like it bothers her, this is how I will use her saddle. And I've gone ahead and ordered some stirrups so that I can ride around in it, because without stirrups I bounce and slide like crazy unless I hang onto the pommel with one hand and Talana's mane with the other. Oh, yeah, steering? Never mind about that. I need stirrups! They will arrive in about a week. I am looking forward to it, because then I will be able to hang on securely and do more interesting things.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Trotting is fun!
Yesterday Talana and I had a really wonderful ride. It was terribly hot - almost 80 degrees! Oh my, almost Virginia weather! - and neither of us really wanted to work too hard. So we did some nice walking over poles and some figure eights and serpentines. And I thought we would trot around just a little bit, because I want to keep practicing that. I have definitely been getting better at balancing while we trot, and I've been doing better at holding the reins usefully instead of forgetting to keep contact with them while I'm focused on staying attached to her back. Well, I made a big breakthrough yesterday.
Our first little bit of trotting went fine. She moved out when I asked, I kept aware of the reins throughout, she didn't pull her head down, and I didn't bounce around much. She slowed and halted when I asked. And I noticed something.
As I sat back for the halt and gently squeezed the reins, we slowed. And in between the original trotting speed and the actual halt there were a couple of steps of a much different trot. I have observed this a few times now. I have been thinking, "How can I get that movement, only on purpose?" Because it is much smoother and "floatier" than the trot she has been giving me. This time, as I felt it happen, I realized just what is going on here. She's giving that nice movement in response to my seat - as I sit back a bit more, I am balanced differently. I am more settled. Somehow, that must make it easier for her to move nicely, and since she'd surely rather move nicely, she does. So I get two steps of lovely trot just as she's slowing for the halt that I've asked for.
Well! I thought, That's an easy thing to fix then! So we turned around and trotted back the other direction, only this time I sat back just a tad from what I'd been doing. It felt so nice and comfortable, and made all the world of difference for both of us. Talana seemed to really like it better, and stayed focused on me the whole time. It was an easy fix after all! I am so happy. After that excellent trot, I decided we were done trotting for the day. No point punishing a good deed in that hot sun by doing it again. Instead of trotting some more, we stood for a minute to take a break.
The other thing we did was go walk around the yard, outside the fence. Talana was very curious about all the stuff out there - cars going by, trees, lilacs, apples on the ground - yet she listened to me very well. After maybe three or five minutes of walking around the yard, we went back to the fence and quit for the day. I gave Talana the biggest apple I could find from our trees, and she spent the afternoon relaxing under her tent.
Now we have a new toy to play with. Today my bareback pad arrived in the mail, and we are going to try it out soon! No more sore seat bones for me, no more grumpy Talana when I accidentally bounce around on her back too much (or ride around for a long time, which we haven't actually done yet).
Our first little bit of trotting went fine. She moved out when I asked, I kept aware of the reins throughout, she didn't pull her head down, and I didn't bounce around much. She slowed and halted when I asked. And I noticed something.
As I sat back for the halt and gently squeezed the reins, we slowed. And in between the original trotting speed and the actual halt there were a couple of steps of a much different trot. I have observed this a few times now. I have been thinking, "How can I get that movement, only on purpose?" Because it is much smoother and "floatier" than the trot she has been giving me. This time, as I felt it happen, I realized just what is going on here. She's giving that nice movement in response to my seat - as I sit back a bit more, I am balanced differently. I am more settled. Somehow, that must make it easier for her to move nicely, and since she'd surely rather move nicely, she does. So I get two steps of lovely trot just as she's slowing for the halt that I've asked for.
Well! I thought, That's an easy thing to fix then! So we turned around and trotted back the other direction, only this time I sat back just a tad from what I'd been doing. It felt so nice and comfortable, and made all the world of difference for both of us. Talana seemed to really like it better, and stayed focused on me the whole time. It was an easy fix after all! I am so happy. After that excellent trot, I decided we were done trotting for the day. No point punishing a good deed in that hot sun by doing it again. Instead of trotting some more, we stood for a minute to take a break.
The other thing we did was go walk around the yard, outside the fence. Talana was very curious about all the stuff out there - cars going by, trees, lilacs, apples on the ground - yet she listened to me very well. After maybe three or five minutes of walking around the yard, we went back to the fence and quit for the day. I gave Talana the biggest apple I could find from our trees, and she spent the afternoon relaxing under her tent.
Now we have a new toy to play with. Today my bareback pad arrived in the mail, and we are going to try it out soon! No more sore seat bones for me, no more grumpy Talana when I accidentally bounce around on her back too much (or ride around for a long time, which we haven't actually done yet).
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Riding adventures
Today Talana and I did some riding in the morning. It was a little more exciting than usual; I got spilled on the ground. Both Talana and I were so focused on what we were doing that when Alice the dog decided to bark suddenly, we both jumped. Talana felt me slipping, and tried valiantly to stop in time to keep me on her back, but I was just a tad too off-balance and basically slid right off of her. I am convinced that if I had been able to grab her mane or hang on for a fraction of a second longer, I wouldn't have landed on the ground, because I could feel that she was getting us stopped as soon as she could. The fall itself was no big deal, really. I landed on one thigh, sort of sideways to the ground as though I was going to lie down for a nap. I got a couple scrapes and a bruise. The wind was knocked out of me for about thirty seconds, and then I was fine. I reached out and grabbed Talana's reins and asked her to come over to me while I sat on the ground, because she looked kind of worried. She sniffed me and I patted her face so that she knew I was ok. She seemed to feel better about things after that. And then I got up and got back on, and we went back to what we were doing. But first we went and took a good look at Alice, so that Talana knew what spooked her.
Other than that little incident (during which I was glad I have a short horse), we had a wonderful ride! I put out some makeshift poles to walk over. At first I put them too far apart, but once I got them positioned better we walked over them several times. This is what we were absorbed in doing when Alice interrupted us. What was so fascinating about walking over poles? It changed Talana's stride. I put them just far enough apart that she had to reach a tiny bit to walk over them, and immediately she stretched out into this long-striding walk that I've never felt before. She even continued to walk like that after going over the poles! It felt nice. We were moving along at a good pace; not slow, and her strides weren't short and choppy like they sometimes get when she's walking but wants to trot. I guess we were just so focused on how that was going that we forgot about the dog.
After walking over the poles, we practiced trotting some more. I'm still basically pointing her in a straight line and then concentrating on my seat when we trot. But this time, Talana didn't unbalance me by pulling her head down partway through. Maybe she's realizing her back feels better when I'm balanced, and pulling her head down is a good way to make me bounce around up there. So we did very well at the trot today! We even trotted over the poles a couple of times, and she used a lovely sort of jog that seemed comfortable for both of us. I am getting better and better at the sitting trot, which I must admit I've never been great at. But the way my muscles are (so tense, always), I just can't seem to post without stirrups. And I figure, does it really matter whether I post or sit right now? I need to get better at both anyway.
I am very pleased with our progress. Talana is moving more smoothly and evenly every day. She seems to be learning to pick up the pace I'm asking for and maintain it, rather than going a few steps and changing her speed. At the beginning we were doing a lot of walk a few steps, walk very very slowly a couple steps, speed up to a fast walk for two steps, slow down and see if we can stop now... drat, we have to keep walking. Now when I ask her to walk, we're walking, and less of this silliness about seeing if we can get the human to forget what we were doing. I'm sure it helps that I'm relaxing more and not lurching about so much. And as of today, I'm seeing similar improvements to our trotting.
I'm not riding for more than twenty minutes a day so far, and most of that walking. But I am amazed at how far we have come in such a short time. Talana is so much more willing, even though we started out in a good place with that. She's softer to my cues now, and I think she enjoys our little lessons. I am also getting much better at giving consistent cues, particularly with my legs and seat. That's something I've never had an opportunity to practice, but Talana responds beautifully when I do it right. I'm thinking more and more about Dressage, and wondering what we can learn besides the basic things we're already doing.
The other thing I'm thinking about is riding with just a neck rope and seeing how that goes. I am quite sure Talana will not decide to take advantage of that by zooming out from under me. She may, however, decide that grazing is an option. I think we will practice with the rope on the ground first so that she learns the cues. I really don't think she will know what to do at first. She doesn't know how to neck rein at all, and that seems like an indicator that the neck rope will be a little odd to her. I think it will be fun to see if I can teach her. I want to know what she can do if she has the freedom to move her head any way she likes.
Other than that little incident (during which I was glad I have a short horse), we had a wonderful ride! I put out some makeshift poles to walk over. At first I put them too far apart, but once I got them positioned better we walked over them several times. This is what we were absorbed in doing when Alice interrupted us. What was so fascinating about walking over poles? It changed Talana's stride. I put them just far enough apart that she had to reach a tiny bit to walk over them, and immediately she stretched out into this long-striding walk that I've never felt before. She even continued to walk like that after going over the poles! It felt nice. We were moving along at a good pace; not slow, and her strides weren't short and choppy like they sometimes get when she's walking but wants to trot. I guess we were just so focused on how that was going that we forgot about the dog.
After walking over the poles, we practiced trotting some more. I'm still basically pointing her in a straight line and then concentrating on my seat when we trot. But this time, Talana didn't unbalance me by pulling her head down partway through. Maybe she's realizing her back feels better when I'm balanced, and pulling her head down is a good way to make me bounce around up there. So we did very well at the trot today! We even trotted over the poles a couple of times, and she used a lovely sort of jog that seemed comfortable for both of us. I am getting better and better at the sitting trot, which I must admit I've never been great at. But the way my muscles are (so tense, always), I just can't seem to post without stirrups. And I figure, does it really matter whether I post or sit right now? I need to get better at both anyway.
I am very pleased with our progress. Talana is moving more smoothly and evenly every day. She seems to be learning to pick up the pace I'm asking for and maintain it, rather than going a few steps and changing her speed. At the beginning we were doing a lot of walk a few steps, walk very very slowly a couple steps, speed up to a fast walk for two steps, slow down and see if we can stop now... drat, we have to keep walking. Now when I ask her to walk, we're walking, and less of this silliness about seeing if we can get the human to forget what we were doing. I'm sure it helps that I'm relaxing more and not lurching about so much. And as of today, I'm seeing similar improvements to our trotting.
I'm not riding for more than twenty minutes a day so far, and most of that walking. But I am amazed at how far we have come in such a short time. Talana is so much more willing, even though we started out in a good place with that. She's softer to my cues now, and I think she enjoys our little lessons. I am also getting much better at giving consistent cues, particularly with my legs and seat. That's something I've never had an opportunity to practice, but Talana responds beautifully when I do it right. I'm thinking more and more about Dressage, and wondering what we can learn besides the basic things we're already doing.
The other thing I'm thinking about is riding with just a neck rope and seeing how that goes. I am quite sure Talana will not decide to take advantage of that by zooming out from under me. She may, however, decide that grazing is an option. I think we will practice with the rope on the ground first so that she learns the cues. I really don't think she will know what to do at first. She doesn't know how to neck rein at all, and that seems like an indicator that the neck rope will be a little odd to her. I think it will be fun to see if I can teach her. I want to know what she can do if she has the freedom to move her head any way she likes.
Making a sidepull halter/bridle thing
Ever since I discovered that bitless bridles exist, I have been very interested in them. When I was little and taking riding lessons with other children, I watched other kids steer their horses by yanking the reins. I saw the reactions the horses gave them: tossing heads and pinned ears, turning quickly and tightly to escape the pain. I was always afraid of doing that to the horse I was riding, so I didn't do a very good job steering a lot of the time. While my heart may have been in the right place, I didn't understand the difference between appropriate pressure and excessive pressure, so I did not progress very much in my ability to communicate with my horse.
Now that I'm older, I understand this better. It is entirely possible to ride with a bit and be gentle. But - you have to have the skill to do it. And your horse needs to be trained sufficiently to understand what you are asking. Between me and Talana, we have enough rusty spots in our training that I can't say for certain that I wouldn't accidentally yank on her mouth. The idea of trying to re-teach her that riding can be fun and gentle while having something in her mouth that with the simplest error on my part can cause her pain in a delicate place... I just don't like that idea.
So, the thought that I can do the same things except without a bit really appeals to me. I thought at least we'd give it a try and see what she thinks. After all, if she's happy enough to do what I ask with no bit, why do I need one? For the basic things I'm asking her to do - walk, trot, back, go around this obstacle or that - we probably don't need the minute finesse of a direct line from my fingers to her mouth.
Another thing that appeals to me is simple tack that I can understand. A nice thing about a sidepull is that it's basically a halter. I know how those work, and I understand how I'm putting pressure on her, and where, when I tug on different parts of it. That helps me feel more confident and secure in my movements, because I am not concerned with accidentally hurting her.
It's such a simple piece of tack, in fact, that I can make them myself. I found a tutorial with pictures online, and set to work with some rope I got to play around with. It takes a lot of rope to make a halter! They recommend 18 feet. I'm not sure exactly how much I used to make Talana's, but it was at least that much. The rope I used was fairly soft and wide. It's not that thin stuff that I see on most rope halters, but that's ok. This one is a test run anyway, and I wasn't even sure it would work.
It only took me three hours to end up with a serviceable halter, however. I added loops on the nose knots so that I can attach reins made from the same rope. And I went right outside and put it on Talana to see how it worked.
It worked! Talana has now gotten so used to it that she puts it on herself if I hold the noseband open for her. She seems cheerful about it each time. And she's taking direction from it very well. It took her five or ten minutes to get the hang of how the different cues feel, but after that she seems happy with it. It seems to be soft enough over her nose because the rope I used is so thick. I may still put padding there when I start riding her around for longer periods of time.
Hooray! I will probably try to get some pictures of it to post so that you can see what it looks like. I think it's not the nicest looking thing ever, but it works well enough for me.
Now that I'm older, I understand this better. It is entirely possible to ride with a bit and be gentle. But - you have to have the skill to do it. And your horse needs to be trained sufficiently to understand what you are asking. Between me and Talana, we have enough rusty spots in our training that I can't say for certain that I wouldn't accidentally yank on her mouth. The idea of trying to re-teach her that riding can be fun and gentle while having something in her mouth that with the simplest error on my part can cause her pain in a delicate place... I just don't like that idea.
So, the thought that I can do the same things except without a bit really appeals to me. I thought at least we'd give it a try and see what she thinks. After all, if she's happy enough to do what I ask with no bit, why do I need one? For the basic things I'm asking her to do - walk, trot, back, go around this obstacle or that - we probably don't need the minute finesse of a direct line from my fingers to her mouth.
Another thing that appeals to me is simple tack that I can understand. A nice thing about a sidepull is that it's basically a halter. I know how those work, and I understand how I'm putting pressure on her, and where, when I tug on different parts of it. That helps me feel more confident and secure in my movements, because I am not concerned with accidentally hurting her.
It's such a simple piece of tack, in fact, that I can make them myself. I found a tutorial with pictures online, and set to work with some rope I got to play around with. It takes a lot of rope to make a halter! They recommend 18 feet. I'm not sure exactly how much I used to make Talana's, but it was at least that much. The rope I used was fairly soft and wide. It's not that thin stuff that I see on most rope halters, but that's ok. This one is a test run anyway, and I wasn't even sure it would work.
It only took me three hours to end up with a serviceable halter, however. I added loops on the nose knots so that I can attach reins made from the same rope. And I went right outside and put it on Talana to see how it worked.
It worked! Talana has now gotten so used to it that she puts it on herself if I hold the noseband open for her. She seems cheerful about it each time. And she's taking direction from it very well. It took her five or ten minutes to get the hang of how the different cues feel, but after that she seems happy with it. It seems to be soft enough over her nose because the rope I used is so thick. I may still put padding there when I start riding her around for longer periods of time.
Hooray! I will probably try to get some pictures of it to post so that you can see what it looks like. I think it's not the nicest looking thing ever, but it works well enough for me.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Saddle testing
On Monday, I don't have work, so I was able to spend all day with Talana again. My mother sent a saddle along with Talana. I have been told in the past that this saddle does not fit her, but since horses do change shape a bit over time I thought I would try it out and see if I could tell. It's an English saddle, and Mom lost track of the stirrups at some point, but I can always get new ones.
First I just set the saddle on Talana's back without a pad or girth to see if anything looked out of place. I'll be the first one to admit that I don't know what I'm looking at, though, so I was not surprised when I looked at it and thought, "Well, there she is with a saddle on her back. Um... it looks like a saddle!" So I tried a more hands-on approach and got out the pad and the girth to cinch her up for a ride.
Talana was a doll about letting me tighten the girth. She made a little face once or twice, but I didn't even have a halter on her and she stood beautifully for me. It still looked ok to me, so I got out the sidepull halter/bridle that I made for her (perhaps I'll make another post about that later; it was a fun project) and took her over to the upside down bucket I'm using as a mounting block.
We walked around for a little bit, and even without stirrups I definitely felt more secure in the saddle. But I did notice that it's not as soft and comfortable as her back. She is shaped very nicely for riding bareback. We didn't have any problems walking around, and she responded well to my cues. So I decided we'd try trotting a little bit.
That's where the problem came in. For one thing, I had difficulty posting properly - I must be depending on the stirrups too much, and having trouble without them. Also, while Talana seemed delighted to be asked to move out a bit, she almost immediately pinned her ears each time we trotted. No bucking, no bad behavior, just pinned ears and shaking her head slightly. After a few times, she started resisting a little when I asked her to trot. I thought she was probably uncomfortable, so I hopped off and took off the saddle.
Then I hopped back on and we walked and trotted a little more. This time when I asked her to trot, her ears were up and she seemed cheerful about it. I was doing a little bit better at posting, but still not wonderful, so we went back to walking after one short, successful trot.
I really suspect there is something about that saddle that pinches her. I don't know what or where, or if it's fixable. But I don't think I should be riding her around in that particular saddle. I am afraid my mother will be disappointed; she likes that saddle very much and seemed invested in the idea that I use it.
Although I am really enjoying riding around bareback, I do want to have a saddle for going out on trails or unfamiliar places. It just makes sense to me to have the added security if I need it. I have a new horse-loving friend at work who has a pony about Talana's size, and several saddles that fit him. We are thinking of trying them on Talana, and this saddle on the pony, just to see if there's a difference.
Overall, I think it was a successful experiment. I got a lot of information out of it, and Talana was so good even when she wasn't happy about what we were doing. I made sure we ended on a good note, and Talana tried to follow me out of the gate again. This time she didn't holler after me, though. She stood and grazed instead. I think she has realized that I'm coming back soon when I walk away, not leaving her behind.
First I just set the saddle on Talana's back without a pad or girth to see if anything looked out of place. I'll be the first one to admit that I don't know what I'm looking at, though, so I was not surprised when I looked at it and thought, "Well, there she is with a saddle on her back. Um... it looks like a saddle!" So I tried a more hands-on approach and got out the pad and the girth to cinch her up for a ride.
Talana was a doll about letting me tighten the girth. She made a little face once or twice, but I didn't even have a halter on her and she stood beautifully for me. It still looked ok to me, so I got out the sidepull halter/bridle that I made for her (perhaps I'll make another post about that later; it was a fun project) and took her over to the upside down bucket I'm using as a mounting block.
We walked around for a little bit, and even without stirrups I definitely felt more secure in the saddle. But I did notice that it's not as soft and comfortable as her back. She is shaped very nicely for riding bareback. We didn't have any problems walking around, and she responded well to my cues. So I decided we'd try trotting a little bit.
That's where the problem came in. For one thing, I had difficulty posting properly - I must be depending on the stirrups too much, and having trouble without them. Also, while Talana seemed delighted to be asked to move out a bit, she almost immediately pinned her ears each time we trotted. No bucking, no bad behavior, just pinned ears and shaking her head slightly. After a few times, she started resisting a little when I asked her to trot. I thought she was probably uncomfortable, so I hopped off and took off the saddle.
Then I hopped back on and we walked and trotted a little more. This time when I asked her to trot, her ears were up and she seemed cheerful about it. I was doing a little bit better at posting, but still not wonderful, so we went back to walking after one short, successful trot.
I really suspect there is something about that saddle that pinches her. I don't know what or where, or if it's fixable. But I don't think I should be riding her around in that particular saddle. I am afraid my mother will be disappointed; she likes that saddle very much and seemed invested in the idea that I use it.
Although I am really enjoying riding around bareback, I do want to have a saddle for going out on trails or unfamiliar places. It just makes sense to me to have the added security if I need it. I have a new horse-loving friend at work who has a pony about Talana's size, and several saddles that fit him. We are thinking of trying them on Talana, and this saddle on the pony, just to see if there's a difference.
Overall, I think it was a successful experiment. I got a lot of information out of it, and Talana was so good even when she wasn't happy about what we were doing. I made sure we ended on a good note, and Talana tried to follow me out of the gate again. This time she didn't holler after me, though. She stood and grazed instead. I think she has realized that I'm coming back soon when I walk away, not leaving her behind.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Talana is home!
My beautiful girl has been here since Friday, and I've been having so much fun spending time with her that I haven't even posted pictures yet! She arrived Friday evening about an hour before dark. She was sore from the long trip and stumbled coming off the trailer, but no harm done. For the first couple of minutes, she just stared at the ground with an expression of relief, as though she was saying, "Thank goodness this ground isn't moving! It is so much easier to stand on!" And then the fellow who had taken her off the trailer handed me her lead rope, and I rubbed her neck. She gave a big sigh, and I led her over to her new field which is also my backyard.
Talana took one look at that nice long grass that I've been growing just for her, and grabbed the biggest bite she could. After a couple of minutes of watching her, I thought she wouldn't notice if I walked back to the shippers to talk to them - but she noticed! She hollered for me the moment I was out of sight. My partner was watching her for me, and he says that she didn't move, just picked up her head and called for me. And then went back to grazing exactly where she had left off.
We made molasses cookies for the shippers. They were surprised and delighted. I figured they deserved something special for bringing Talana to me.
This was the night she arrived. I've gotten used to bigger horses. I almost forgot what it's like to be able to put my arm over her back! She had a little scrape on her right hind leg, probably acquired during the trip. So I cleaned it off and put a bit of Swat there to keep the bugs off overnight until I could get a better look at it in the morning. That's why I'm holding a pink-smudged paper towel.
The next morning the area around the scrape was a little puffy, but there weren't any flies bothering her. I cleaned it off better and saw that it really is just a little scrape. I put some Neosporin on it, and the puffiness was gone in a couple hours. Now it's healing up nicely and I'm sure it will be all better soon. Here is what she looked like from my window that morning:
She has her tent so she can get out of the rain or sun if she likes. At first she was a bit skeptical of it. It does make creaking and flapping noises in the wind. She wasn't really afraid; she just seemed to think that it was a better idea to stand next to it rather than under it.
Talana had clearly had her mane brushed out before she came northward. It wasn't a big tangle as it usually gets when I am not there to tidy it up. Her mane has more white hairs than I remember. She was very dusty with the red Virginia clay that makes it so difficult to garden at my parents' house. Her white socks were sort of chestnut colored, and anywhere I touched her my hand was coated with iron-rich dust. So I curried her and brushed her and curried her and brushed her. And I got out the coconut oil and massaged it all through her mane and tail and combed them out. She was so very happy with the attention, she just drowsed in the sun and sighed and yawned. Then I got a rag and a big bucket of water and gave her a bath. She didn't even try to step away from the water. It must have felt so good to have someone scrub all the dirt off of her. I used the dog's shampoo, which is oatmeal and coconut based. It worked really well, and her coat is softer now than it has ever been in my memory. Now when I brush her, loose hair comes off and no dust. Her socks are actually white again.
I walked her down to the meadow after her bath. I want her to see where she will be living. She won't be in the backyard all the time; when she eats the grass down enough I will move her fence and make it bigger. She's here because I want to keep an eye on her until she's settled in. She was excited about the meadow. The river was a big deal for her to see. There was a sail boat coming in, and she stood and watched it for a long time. I'm not sure she's seen that much water before. The grass down there has now been Talana Approved. In fact, she seems to prefer it to the stuff in the back yard, which appears to be a finer-leaved species of some sort.
It rained on us when we were coming back up the hill, so she got wet on top. She didn't seem to mind at all.
And then when it got a little darker, I took a picture of her with the sunset.
I was so happy on Saturday. I got to spend the entire day fussing over Talana, and she seemed to enjoy it very much. Every time I walked away from her, she followed me to the gate and neighed when I left her behind.
Sunday morning was even better. I woke up knowing she was here, and safe, and that her first full day had gone well. Sunday morning Talana was moving more smoothly, and I think the soreness from her journey had retreated by that point. I brushed her and cleaned out her hooves.
I have been reading about hoof care, and learning a lot. What I've been reading makes me wonder if her feet need a bit of attention. She's moving fine - particularly for an old girl with arthritis in her rear legs - but I think her toes might be a bit long and I notice that the groove between her soles and hoof walls seems deeper than maybe it should be. I scraped a bunch of grit out of there on each hoof. But, I don't really know if or how much this is out of the ordinary. So I will ask the farrier to tell me all about Talana's hooves when she comes to look at/trim them.
I do know that the noticeable growth rings I see on the outsides of her hooves are a sign that things aren't ideal. Based on what I know about what she's been fed and what I've been reading about growing healthy hooves, I am pretty darn certain she needs a supplement with copper and zinc in it added to her grain. So I have ordered one and we'll see if that makes a difference. While her fur is soft and somewhat shiny, she's not glossy the way I would expect if she's getting all her vitamins and minerals. Her mane and tail are also dull, and although I keep putting coconut oil in them, it just gets absorbed right in in a couple hours and then they aren't shiny anymore. After I put the oil in Fable's mane and tail a couple of times, they stayed shiny.
The other thing I've learned from reading is that excess iron inhibits the absorption of copper and zinc. Remember that iron-rich dirt I mentioned? That's what the grass she's been eating all her life grows in. So maybe that is the root of the things I'm noticing.
But, aside from thoughts about nutrition and hoof care - Sunday was lovely! After I tidied her up, I put her halter on and attached one lead rope to each side of it to make reins. It turns out that the lead ropes are much too long to be practical and bump her all the way down at her pasterns when she walks. But she was a good sport about it. I hopped up bareback to see if either of us can remember what to do.
Well, I think she remembers better than me! Or maybe her muscles are just in better shape. She was very responsive to my cues, and she worked to keep me balanced. Thank goodness, because I think if she hadn't been trying so hard I'd have toppled right off in the first couple of minutes before my body adjusted and relaxed. But once I was able to relax a little, I felt more secure and we were able to walk around the yard for a few minutes. I realized after a bit that I wasn't using the reins very much because she was responding to my seat and legs. This made me very happy, because I have never felt like I was doing the right thing with my legs before. Talana responded so well, I just kept laughing because it worked! She turned both directions for me, she walked on, halted and backed as well. Each time I asked her to do something, she seemed surprised when I praised her for responding. She became very soft and willing when she discovered that I was so happy with her. We even walked under and around the tent a few times. And then I got off and brushed her and told her what a wonderful girl she is. And then I took some pictures of her.
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I have so much to say about all the things we've been doing that I didn't even notice it's bed time. I had better go to sleep, or I'll be too tired after work to play with Talana tomorrow, and we can't have that! Hopefully this big long update with many pictures will keep my readers busy until the next installment.
Talana took one look at that nice long grass that I've been growing just for her, and grabbed the biggest bite she could. After a couple of minutes of watching her, I thought she wouldn't notice if I walked back to the shippers to talk to them - but she noticed! She hollered for me the moment I was out of sight. My partner was watching her for me, and he says that she didn't move, just picked up her head and called for me. And then went back to grazing exactly where she had left off.
We made molasses cookies for the shippers. They were surprised and delighted. I figured they deserved something special for bringing Talana to me.
This was the night she arrived. I've gotten used to bigger horses. I almost forgot what it's like to be able to put my arm over her back! She had a little scrape on her right hind leg, probably acquired during the trip. So I cleaned it off and put a bit of Swat there to keep the bugs off overnight until I could get a better look at it in the morning. That's why I'm holding a pink-smudged paper towel.
The next morning the area around the scrape was a little puffy, but there weren't any flies bothering her. I cleaned it off better and saw that it really is just a little scrape. I put some Neosporin on it, and the puffiness was gone in a couple hours. Now it's healing up nicely and I'm sure it will be all better soon. Here is what she looked like from my window that morning:
She has her tent so she can get out of the rain or sun if she likes. At first she was a bit skeptical of it. It does make creaking and flapping noises in the wind. She wasn't really afraid; she just seemed to think that it was a better idea to stand next to it rather than under it.
Talana had clearly had her mane brushed out before she came northward. It wasn't a big tangle as it usually gets when I am not there to tidy it up. Her mane has more white hairs than I remember. She was very dusty with the red Virginia clay that makes it so difficult to garden at my parents' house. Her white socks were sort of chestnut colored, and anywhere I touched her my hand was coated with iron-rich dust. So I curried her and brushed her and curried her and brushed her. And I got out the coconut oil and massaged it all through her mane and tail and combed them out. She was so very happy with the attention, she just drowsed in the sun and sighed and yawned. Then I got a rag and a big bucket of water and gave her a bath. She didn't even try to step away from the water. It must have felt so good to have someone scrub all the dirt off of her. I used the dog's shampoo, which is oatmeal and coconut based. It worked really well, and her coat is softer now than it has ever been in my memory. Now when I brush her, loose hair comes off and no dust. Her socks are actually white again.
I walked her down to the meadow after her bath. I want her to see where she will be living. She won't be in the backyard all the time; when she eats the grass down enough I will move her fence and make it bigger. She's here because I want to keep an eye on her until she's settled in. She was excited about the meadow. The river was a big deal for her to see. There was a sail boat coming in, and she stood and watched it for a long time. I'm not sure she's seen that much water before. The grass down there has now been Talana Approved. In fact, she seems to prefer it to the stuff in the back yard, which appears to be a finer-leaved species of some sort.
It rained on us when we were coming back up the hill, so she got wet on top. She didn't seem to mind at all.
And then when it got a little darker, I took a picture of her with the sunset.
I was so happy on Saturday. I got to spend the entire day fussing over Talana, and she seemed to enjoy it very much. Every time I walked away from her, she followed me to the gate and neighed when I left her behind.
Sunday morning was even better. I woke up knowing she was here, and safe, and that her first full day had gone well. Sunday morning Talana was moving more smoothly, and I think the soreness from her journey had retreated by that point. I brushed her and cleaned out her hooves.
I have been reading about hoof care, and learning a lot. What I've been reading makes me wonder if her feet need a bit of attention. She's moving fine - particularly for an old girl with arthritis in her rear legs - but I think her toes might be a bit long and I notice that the groove between her soles and hoof walls seems deeper than maybe it should be. I scraped a bunch of grit out of there on each hoof. But, I don't really know if or how much this is out of the ordinary. So I will ask the farrier to tell me all about Talana's hooves when she comes to look at/trim them.
I do know that the noticeable growth rings I see on the outsides of her hooves are a sign that things aren't ideal. Based on what I know about what she's been fed and what I've been reading about growing healthy hooves, I am pretty darn certain she needs a supplement with copper and zinc in it added to her grain. So I have ordered one and we'll see if that makes a difference. While her fur is soft and somewhat shiny, she's not glossy the way I would expect if she's getting all her vitamins and minerals. Her mane and tail are also dull, and although I keep putting coconut oil in them, it just gets absorbed right in in a couple hours and then they aren't shiny anymore. After I put the oil in Fable's mane and tail a couple of times, they stayed shiny.
The other thing I've learned from reading is that excess iron inhibits the absorption of copper and zinc. Remember that iron-rich dirt I mentioned? That's what the grass she's been eating all her life grows in. So maybe that is the root of the things I'm noticing.
But, aside from thoughts about nutrition and hoof care - Sunday was lovely! After I tidied her up, I put her halter on and attached one lead rope to each side of it to make reins. It turns out that the lead ropes are much too long to be practical and bump her all the way down at her pasterns when she walks. But she was a good sport about it. I hopped up bareback to see if either of us can remember what to do.
Well, I think she remembers better than me! Or maybe her muscles are just in better shape. She was very responsive to my cues, and she worked to keep me balanced. Thank goodness, because I think if she hadn't been trying so hard I'd have toppled right off in the first couple of minutes before my body adjusted and relaxed. But once I was able to relax a little, I felt more secure and we were able to walk around the yard for a few minutes. I realized after a bit that I wasn't using the reins very much because she was responding to my seat and legs. This made me very happy, because I have never felt like I was doing the right thing with my legs before. Talana responded so well, I just kept laughing because it worked! She turned both directions for me, she walked on, halted and backed as well. Each time I asked her to do something, she seemed surprised when I praised her for responding. She became very soft and willing when she discovered that I was so happy with her. We even walked under and around the tent a few times. And then I got off and brushed her and told her what a wonderful girl she is. And then I took some pictures of her.
I have so much to say about all the things we've been doing that I didn't even notice it's bed time. I had better go to sleep, or I'll be too tired after work to play with Talana tomorrow, and we can't have that! Hopefully this big long update with many pictures will keep my readers busy until the next installment.
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!
Friday, March 14, 2014
A story about horses, part eight
I remember the last time I rode a horse, as of this writing. I rode Annie, because she would do anything for H., so H. and I took her to a round pen to give me a riding lesson. I was in college, and I would have been seventeen or eighteen at that time.
It was my first time in a Western saddle. But that didn't really matter. I just felt all wrong. I could not relax. My body was wound up tight like a spring squeezed between your thumb and forefinger. No stretching would loosen me up. Nothing felt right. Annie walked for me, but she flicked her ears back and forth, and kept peeking back at me to see if I was all right up there. Then we tried trotting, and each step jolted me in a different direction. I could not post, because my body was bouncing and flinging back and forth and side to side and I could not feel my thighs settling the way they used to.
I could squeeze tighter. I could hang on. But I could not relax, and I could not use the reins to guide Annie because I was using my hands to hang on to her mane and the horn of the saddle. I did not pull at her mouth. I let the reins flap and tried not to fall. I had never felt like I might fall before. Annie bucked a little, just tiny hiccups in her stride. She pinned one ear, then the other, and shook her head. After a bit, she stopped trotting and turned her head around to look at me. "Are you ok?" she seemed to ask. I wasn't, really. I was confused. My body was betraying me. Annie refused to trot more than two steps at a time for the rest of the lesson.
This feeling that my body was a sack of grain flopping all over the place was alien. I remember what it was like to ride, before. I remember a time when I could sit on a horse that was spooking sideways and leaping into the air, and think to myself, "Oh, what did he see over there?" not, "Yikes! I'm falling!" I remember a time when I dreamed of putting a bridle on Mark and flying across the bright summer grass with him, together, as though we were one animal. I never got to ride him that way. And now my last memory of riding is one of simply trying not to fall. And trying not to make Annie's back too uncomfortable with my bouncing, clinging efforts to stay attached to it.
It was my first time in a Western saddle. But that didn't really matter. I just felt all wrong. I could not relax. My body was wound up tight like a spring squeezed between your thumb and forefinger. No stretching would loosen me up. Nothing felt right. Annie walked for me, but she flicked her ears back and forth, and kept peeking back at me to see if I was all right up there. Then we tried trotting, and each step jolted me in a different direction. I could not post, because my body was bouncing and flinging back and forth and side to side and I could not feel my thighs settling the way they used to.
I could squeeze tighter. I could hang on. But I could not relax, and I could not use the reins to guide Annie because I was using my hands to hang on to her mane and the horn of the saddle. I did not pull at her mouth. I let the reins flap and tried not to fall. I had never felt like I might fall before. Annie bucked a little, just tiny hiccups in her stride. She pinned one ear, then the other, and shook her head. After a bit, she stopped trotting and turned her head around to look at me. "Are you ok?" she seemed to ask. I wasn't, really. I was confused. My body was betraying me. Annie refused to trot more than two steps at a time for the rest of the lesson.
This feeling that my body was a sack of grain flopping all over the place was alien. I remember what it was like to ride, before. I remember a time when I could sit on a horse that was spooking sideways and leaping into the air, and think to myself, "Oh, what did he see over there?" not, "Yikes! I'm falling!" I remember a time when I dreamed of putting a bridle on Mark and flying across the bright summer grass with him, together, as though we were one animal. I never got to ride him that way. And now my last memory of riding is one of simply trying not to fall. And trying not to make Annie's back too uncomfortable with my bouncing, clinging efforts to stay attached to it.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
A story about horses, part six
I remember the first time I feared riding a horse. I don't remember how old I was, but I would have been in middle school. So somewhere between eleven and thirteen, probably. The horse was Talana, my mother's mare who had been in training for several years at my sister's house. Talana was not having a great day that day. She did not want to be tied to the trailer for grooming and tacking up, and broke her nice English bridle by pulling back from the trailer. We put a different bridle on her, and took her to a field to ride around.
The grown-ups failed us this time. They did not supervise correctly, and they set us up to have difficulties. N one was there to tell H. not to tie Talana by her bridle (the grown-ups were in the house), and no one was there to tell me what to do when she began to back up, step by determined step, a look of defiance in her eye (H. went back to the barn to get something, leaving me alone with the horses). H. was only a year older than me.
The field that was available to ride in, the only available field, was next to a stallion's field. There was a sturdy fence between, with an electric tape across the top, but the stallion was flirting with Talana from the start. He was strutting his stuff and talking to her, and showing off his lovely tail in the wind. She wanted to go talk to him, but we wanted to ride around. Again, in a saddle, I felt as though I could not tell Talana what I wanted her to do, and she paid me no mind. She did not turn and make a circle when I asked her to, and did not "Whoa!" when I asked her to, instead picking up her pace to a trot and then a canter. She whisked us up the field to the fence and halted just where she wanted to, out of reach of the electric wire. She put her head up and gave that stallion her best "You can't get me, Na-na-na-naaa!" strut. I clung on for dear life as H. shouted instructions at me.
I never felt in danger of falling off, but I did feel threatened by the stallion. I did not know if he or Talana might try to jump the fence, or what might happen then. I did not want to be in the way if that happened. So once Talana stopped, I hopped right off of her and led her out of the field. And I declared quite firmly that I was done for the day. No one could convince me otherwise, because I did not feel safe.
After that, I avoided opportunities I would otherwise have leaped at to ride Talana. I wanted to ride Mark, but I did not trust Talana. I felt like I did not know her. I felt like no one was in control of the situation, and I did not like that one bit. It was not fun. I swore up and down that I was not afraid, but I was.
Eventually, I did ride Talana again. But I would say that I never had a good experience with her under saddle. I have had good experiences with her on the ground, and I remember sitting on her when I was quite small. It was never Talana's fault. It was always the grown-ups, who were supposed to know what to do, who set us up to fail. Talana's saddle, my mother insisted, "fit her perfectly," but she was referring to herself, not the horse. She seemed to think that having the saddle fit the person was enough, but that saddle pinched Talana's back. It took an attempted riding lesson with our friend and farrier for me to find out that Talana would never be happy with me or anyone sitting on her in that saddle. He said that the saddle pinched her right under where my thighs were, which was why she always bucked a little and pinned her ears when trotting. Without the saddle or a person on her, she trotted beautifully for him. He also found that her mouth was hard. The farrier was able to get her to respond better, but he said, "You should not ride this horse. She needs gentle re-training. She has been yanked around too much for you to ride right now, but if I spent a little time with her, she would make a lovely pony for you." He never got the chance to spend that time with her.
After this lesson, I was not afraid anymore. I understood why Talana was so grouchy, and it was not my fault nor hers. But around this time, my mother became very nervous around the horses. I did not ride again for several years.
The grown-ups failed us this time. They did not supervise correctly, and they set us up to have difficulties. N one was there to tell H. not to tie Talana by her bridle (the grown-ups were in the house), and no one was there to tell me what to do when she began to back up, step by determined step, a look of defiance in her eye (H. went back to the barn to get something, leaving me alone with the horses). H. was only a year older than me.
The field that was available to ride in, the only available field, was next to a stallion's field. There was a sturdy fence between, with an electric tape across the top, but the stallion was flirting with Talana from the start. He was strutting his stuff and talking to her, and showing off his lovely tail in the wind. She wanted to go talk to him, but we wanted to ride around. Again, in a saddle, I felt as though I could not tell Talana what I wanted her to do, and she paid me no mind. She did not turn and make a circle when I asked her to, and did not "Whoa!" when I asked her to, instead picking up her pace to a trot and then a canter. She whisked us up the field to the fence and halted just where she wanted to, out of reach of the electric wire. She put her head up and gave that stallion her best "You can't get me, Na-na-na-naaa!" strut. I clung on for dear life as H. shouted instructions at me.
I never felt in danger of falling off, but I did feel threatened by the stallion. I did not know if he or Talana might try to jump the fence, or what might happen then. I did not want to be in the way if that happened. So once Talana stopped, I hopped right off of her and led her out of the field. And I declared quite firmly that I was done for the day. No one could convince me otherwise, because I did not feel safe.
After that, I avoided opportunities I would otherwise have leaped at to ride Talana. I wanted to ride Mark, but I did not trust Talana. I felt like I did not know her. I felt like no one was in control of the situation, and I did not like that one bit. It was not fun. I swore up and down that I was not afraid, but I was.
Eventually, I did ride Talana again. But I would say that I never had a good experience with her under saddle. I have had good experiences with her on the ground, and I remember sitting on her when I was quite small. It was never Talana's fault. It was always the grown-ups, who were supposed to know what to do, who set us up to fail. Talana's saddle, my mother insisted, "fit her perfectly," but she was referring to herself, not the horse. She seemed to think that having the saddle fit the person was enough, but that saddle pinched Talana's back. It took an attempted riding lesson with our friend and farrier for me to find out that Talana would never be happy with me or anyone sitting on her in that saddle. He said that the saddle pinched her right under where my thighs were, which was why she always bucked a little and pinned her ears when trotting. Without the saddle or a person on her, she trotted beautifully for him. He also found that her mouth was hard. The farrier was able to get her to respond better, but he said, "You should not ride this horse. She needs gentle re-training. She has been yanked around too much for you to ride right now, but if I spent a little time with her, she would make a lovely pony for you." He never got the chance to spend that time with her.
After this lesson, I was not afraid anymore. I understood why Talana was so grouchy, and it was not my fault nor hers. But around this time, my mother became very nervous around the horses. I did not ride again for several years.
A story about horses, part five
I remember the difference between riding in an English saddle and riding bareback. Somehow, the saddle was always in the way. The stirrups were too big for my tiny feet, and it was hard to get everything adjusted to fit me comfortably. And when I tried to do the stretches, leaning back to touch my head to my horse's rump, the back end of the saddle jabbed me in the spine. I could flex enough to bend despite it, but it was not comfortable. I never seemed able to communicate with my horse, either. Perhaps as a tiny child of fifty pounds, my gentle movements did not make it through the saddle and the saddle pad to where the horse could detect them. It always seemed to me that the grown-ups were telling me to do everything "More, more!" But I didn't want to hurt the horse, and I didn't know how hard was too hard.
On the last day of my riding class, the teacher had us ride bareback. Most of the other students were very uncomfortable. I think they had never sat a horse without a saddle. But me? My tall horse Bruce and I cantered back and forth and in circles around the others. We trotted and spun the other direction, and won all the games. I held the crop I had been told I must use to get my horse to move, but that day I did not use it at all. Bruce didn't need me to. He could tell what I wanted from my legs.
I remember what it felt like to ride Bruce that day. He was the tallest horse I had ever ridden. I felt very high up in the air. But without the saddle, I felt like my legs and seat were part of Bruce's body. I couldn't fall off, because we were moving together. I finally felt what a posting trot is supposed to feel like, the easy rhythm you settle into when you and your horse are so tuned in to each other. I could ask him to move a little faster by changing my rhythm just a bit, or to slow down a little. And Bruce was happy. When we stopped, he would turn his head around and nuzzle my knee.
I remember what my riding instructor said to me that day, one of the only times I remember getting specific attention from the instructor: "So that's all I have to do to get you to do these things right? Take away your saddle?" It felt like a backhanded compliment. Had I really been doing everything wrong the whole time? I guess I hadn't been paying a whole lot of attention to the other students and the explanations the instructor gave didn't make a lot of sense to me. I just wanted to ride horses. Bruce didn't care what the instructor was saying. He was just blissfully happy with the belly rubs I gave him after taking his bridle off and brushing him down.
On the last day of my riding class, the teacher had us ride bareback. Most of the other students were very uncomfortable. I think they had never sat a horse without a saddle. But me? My tall horse Bruce and I cantered back and forth and in circles around the others. We trotted and spun the other direction, and won all the games. I held the crop I had been told I must use to get my horse to move, but that day I did not use it at all. Bruce didn't need me to. He could tell what I wanted from my legs.
I remember what it felt like to ride Bruce that day. He was the tallest horse I had ever ridden. I felt very high up in the air. But without the saddle, I felt like my legs and seat were part of Bruce's body. I couldn't fall off, because we were moving together. I finally felt what a posting trot is supposed to feel like, the easy rhythm you settle into when you and your horse are so tuned in to each other. I could ask him to move a little faster by changing my rhythm just a bit, or to slow down a little. And Bruce was happy. When we stopped, he would turn his head around and nuzzle my knee.
I remember what my riding instructor said to me that day, one of the only times I remember getting specific attention from the instructor: "So that's all I have to do to get you to do these things right? Take away your saddle?" It felt like a backhanded compliment. Had I really been doing everything wrong the whole time? I guess I hadn't been paying a whole lot of attention to the other students and the explanations the instructor gave didn't make a lot of sense to me. I just wanted to ride horses. Bruce didn't care what the instructor was saying. He was just blissfully happy with the belly rubs I gave him after taking his bridle off and brushing him down.
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