So, I know that I mentioned that someone wanted to lease the pony. Awesome, right? Yeah... that was a few weeks ago and I haven't heard squat since.
But really, would it be such a bad thing if I had to hang on to her forever? I adore this pony. I am secretly coveting her as my next dressage project. (Okay, Stretch technically is my "dressage horse," but wouldn't the cute white 13.2h pony be a fun little side project??)
Last night I decided to ride her. She needed to be ridden anyway, and she was such a saint for Potential Buyer that I was... well, I was inspired. The once-crazy Drama pony who once-upon-a-time wouldn't let anyone lead her without, well, drama had somehow transformed into a nice, well-behaved packer.
Okay, I'm not sure that she is truly a packer. The girl who wanted to try her told me that she was roughly an intermediate rider. I think the pony can handle intermediate. I think. At least she wasn't a beginner, right? WRONG. This girl didn't even know how to put a halter on. She did swear up and down that she has ridden before, so against my better judgement I let her climb aboard.
At first the pony was all, "WTF is this? Why is there someone strange on me?" and then she got a wide-eyed look, as if she was telling me, "Ooooh, I see. She is clueless. That means... *gulp*... I have to be in charge??"
The Pony, bless her heart, is very submissive and always low horse on the totem pole. She is highly trainable because of that. She just naturally wants to please whomever is in charge. The person on her was definitely not in charge, and they both looked a little lost.
After a bit of convincing, Drama reluctantly walked forward. Until Possible Buyer became a bit wobbly, and then Drama froze. Good pony. PB wanted to trot at some point during the ride, and Drama soundly said, "Uh, no, notsomuch." (This from the pony whose favorite speed is "go.") I was impressed. This pony does have a sense of self-preservation. She was downright cautious with this rank beginner and was absolutely saintly on a loose rein.
So fast forward to last night (sorry, I de-railed). I decided to ride Ms. Saintly Pony (whom, by the way, can definitely tell when it's me up there because she no longer feels the need to be cautious). It was windy last night. Like, really windy. The type of windy that leaves tree branches scattered across the roads. Why I felt the need to ride my most spooky equine in the middle of a violent wind storm is somewhat beyond me. I've definitely made smarter decisions in my life. But heck, I had a whole new outlook on the pony! She was GOOD! She just packed a beginner around like the girl was instead a Faberge egg balanced precariously on her back! Surely a little wind would be no match for my New and Improved Pony!
Riiiiight.
She was pretty convinced that Chupacabra was trying to get in the barn to eat us both. After several spin-and-bolt attempts (too bad for her I am damn good at riding those out now) I finally got her working on a 20m circle at the far end of the arena- away from the gate and the pony-eating Chupacabra. After she settled down a bit I called it a night and quickly got off, thanking God that I lived to blog about it today.
Reformed pony, my ass.
I still really want to keep her, though.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
The Smurf
Have you seen my horse trailer? You know, the one I refuse to put my horses in?
It's even the same blue.
Sooo... my big debate now is: would this much of a project be worth keeping? It is structurally sound. It's paid for. It's not a horrible trailer.... Deep down I kinda *like* working on projects... Just don't tell anyone- I think I'm part guy in that respect... But oh, yeah, I'm poor.
Granted, the frame is sturdy. I have hauled horses in it before. I don't have pictures of it (too ashamed) but a google images search found me one just like it. Like, it could be its twin:
It's even the same blue.
We call it "The Smurf."
Here's why I hate it:
1.) Lost title. Granted, lots of horse trailers have missing titles, but I am paranoid. I did call the DMV and apparently the way to get a title is to haul it back up to WA (we got it in Vancouver), have WSP's Vin inspector try to get the vin off of it (I tried. It's not legible. It's all rusted off. I can make out maybe 2 characters.) If they can't read the vin, they have to assign it a new one. HUGE pain in the ass, and probably a lot of money to get done.
2.) Only 2 of the 5 tires (including the spare) are actual trailer tires rated for that amount of weight. The rest are "economy car" tires. The Les Schwab guy warned me that they aren't rated for horse trailers. I could only afford to replace the two that weren't holding air at that time, so that's why 2 of them are nice. I obsess over it when I have a horse in their. I have visions of tire blowouts. Eventually I would like to get ALL of the tires switched over to the correct type. But seeing as how the trailer itself was only $500, and each tire is about $150, I am having a hard time justifying the cost. So my game plan was to replace them one at a time as the rest of the car tires died a slow death. It is currently sitting with 2 flats. One on the trailer, and my spare is flat (well, the actual "spare" is on the trailer... to replace the flat one...) Yeah, I still don't have money to get new tires.
3.) The wiring went out last year, and Katie's non-mechanically-inclined stepdad attempted to re-wire it. It's Jimmy-rigged somehow. Not sure how. Enough said.
4.) I re-did the floors myself. It's sturdy as hell. They don't make steel trailers like they used to. I *do* like that it's small enough that it's lightweight and well built, but there is a spot on the inside that has been so rusted that I can see daylight through it. It's where the front of the manger meets the floor (by where the horses' front feet would go). When I was replacing the floor, we found out that it isn't a structural weight bearing thing, so it's still technically safe. But it freaks me the fuck out. I shouldn't be able to see the ground from the inside of the trailer. I want someone to weld it back together. I'm anal-retentive like that
5.) I find it embarrassing to bring anywhere. Can you imagine how humiliating it is to show up to a horse show with The Smurf? And park it in the middle of a sea of beautiful, shiny, white trailers? I know, it's a silly reason to hate that thing. But look at this one:
Oh yes, that's the same effing trailer as the one above. From the same website. Someone showing their restoration project. I LOVE it!! They did a good job. I wouldn't mind bringing that thing to a horse show. And it kills me that it's the same goddamn trailer. [Insert: whiny voice] I want MY trailer to look that nice! I would be a badass showing up to a show in this!
(I'll admit, at first I wasn't a fan of the red interior, but it's really growing on me- looks neat and sporty. But due to horses not liking loading into dark places, I would only want it if the interior light got fixed. See #3, above.)
Sooo... my big debate now is: would this much of a project be worth keeping? It is structurally sound. It's paid for. It's not a horrible trailer.... Deep down I kinda *like* working on projects... Just don't tell anyone- I think I'm part guy in that respect... But oh, yeah, I'm poor.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sometimes things have to fall apart...
... before they can be put back together again. :-)
So my life for the last few months has been seriously messed up. Unemployed, unemployment insurance ran out, still unemployed, The Boy is being an asshole, I have 4 horses to feed, blah blah blah.
In the last two weeks, the following wonderful things have happened:
1.) I have someone interested in the pony. :-) She already came out to meet her, but there was a Christmas party happening in the arena, so she couldn't ride. She's coming out tomorrow to take her for a test spin. I really like this person, and I hope she taking the Drama Llama! One less equid for me to pay for...
2.) I have an interview tomorrow for a full-time job. Granted, it's Loss Prevention, which I DO NOT want to do again, but I need a job. That pays. Money. This one will, and it comes complete with benefits, too. I could do it in my sleep, and there is no contract saying that I have to stay there if the perfect surgical tech position comes along. It's a great job for my "in the meantime."
3.) Speaking of which, I also had an interview at Good Samaritan for a part-time surg. tech position (well, an OB tech position, but a foot in the door!). Just 2 overnight shifts a week, which I could easily do in conjunction with the LP job (LP agents are notorious for writing their own schedules). They even called back and told me they were very interested and asked me to re-apply after they had some union issues with the job posting and had to re-post the position. So that's a good sign. REALLY crossing fingers on that one!
4.) The Boy is still locked in his own little world at the moment (okay, that's not a GOOD thing, but hey, we can't win them all). I did, however, manage to royally piss off his borderline-psychotic soon-to-be-ex-wife, so that made my whole week better. But that is another blog for another day... bwahahaha.
5.) I had a great ride today on Stretch. We worked on really prompt walk/trot transitions with some whoas thrown in for funsies. He did great. He also let me know that he is not terribly comfortable being ridden away from the wall. I acknowledged that, and asked him to try anyway. He was a good sport about it, even if he was worried. We took it slow and got a few rein changes across the diagonal. To the asshole trainer who rode him in Texas: you're a moron. This horse plainly tells you when he doesn't like something. Just listen to him. He is not a dangerous horse. He's a baby. When he hesitates and then starts tossing his head, it means he's worried. I figured that out in, oh, about 2 seconds and you, Mr. Amazing Trainer, couldn't figure it out before he launched your stupid ass? You deserved it.
So here's hoping that everything works out the way I would like them to... It has certainly been a promising start!
PS- It's 1:30 in the AM and I am NOT proofreading this, so I apologize in advance for all grammatical errors that surely occur when one is sleep-deprived.
So my life for the last few months has been seriously messed up. Unemployed, unemployment insurance ran out, still unemployed, The Boy is being an asshole, I have 4 horses to feed, blah blah blah.
In the last two weeks, the following wonderful things have happened:
1.) I have someone interested in the pony. :-) She already came out to meet her, but there was a Christmas party happening in the arena, so she couldn't ride. She's coming out tomorrow to take her for a test spin. I really like this person, and I hope she taking the Drama Llama! One less equid for me to pay for...
2.) I have an interview tomorrow for a full-time job. Granted, it's Loss Prevention, which I DO NOT want to do again, but I need a job. That pays. Money. This one will, and it comes complete with benefits, too. I could do it in my sleep, and there is no contract saying that I have to stay there if the perfect surgical tech position comes along. It's a great job for my "in the meantime."
3.) Speaking of which, I also had an interview at Good Samaritan for a part-time surg. tech position (well, an OB tech position, but a foot in the door!). Just 2 overnight shifts a week, which I could easily do in conjunction with the LP job (LP agents are notorious for writing their own schedules). They even called back and told me they were very interested and asked me to re-apply after they had some union issues with the job posting and had to re-post the position. So that's a good sign. REALLY crossing fingers on that one!
4.) The Boy is still locked in his own little world at the moment (okay, that's not a GOOD thing, but hey, we can't win them all). I did, however, manage to royally piss off his borderline-psychotic soon-to-be-ex-wife, so that made my whole week better. But that is another blog for another day... bwahahaha.
5.) I had a great ride today on Stretch. We worked on really prompt walk/trot transitions with some whoas thrown in for funsies. He did great. He also let me know that he is not terribly comfortable being ridden away from the wall. I acknowledged that, and asked him to try anyway. He was a good sport about it, even if he was worried. We took it slow and got a few rein changes across the diagonal. To the asshole trainer who rode him in Texas: you're a moron. This horse plainly tells you when he doesn't like something. Just listen to him. He is not a dangerous horse. He's a baby. When he hesitates and then starts tossing his head, it means he's worried. I figured that out in, oh, about 2 seconds and you, Mr. Amazing Trainer, couldn't figure it out before he launched your stupid ass? You deserved it.
So here's hoping that everything works out the way I would like them to... It has certainly been a promising start!
PS- It's 1:30 in the AM and I am NOT proofreading this, so I apologize in advance for all grammatical errors that surely occur when one is sleep-deprived.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Juicing
No, I'm not referring to loading up on anabolic steroids. I'm referring to the new diet fad involving turning perfectly good solid food into liquid form.
Why, you might ask? Hey, me too.
I got started when my friend Deven suggested that I watch some documentary on Netflix titled, Fat, Sick, & Nearly Dead, which chronicles some gazillionaire from Australia's journey into weight loss. So I did. It was inspiring. Not only did Mr. Australian Big Bucks loose lots of weight, his rare skin condition cleared up, his cholesterol went down, and I'm pretty sure it can cure cancer, too, even though they didn't mention it in the documentary. How did he do it?
You guessed it- juicing.
The premise is, why eat only one celery stick when you can reduce an entire bushel down into liquid form and drink that, instead? The fiber that actually fills you up is taken out, and you get all of the "micro-nutrients" that are good for you. It's a micro-nutrient overload.
I really need to stop watching documentaries. I get all excited and gung-ho about whatever it is I see. So off I went to buy a brand-spanking new Jack LaLane juicer and an assortment of fruits and veggies. It just looks so darn appetizing in the pictures... In the documentary, Mr. ABB went on a 30-day (or was it 60-day? I can't remember) fast where all he consumed was juice. I decided that might be a little too extreme for me, so I decided on a nice healthy one-week fast. 7 days. No big deal, right?
WRONG
I have discovered that I HATE juicing. The only thing that I have gotten out of my juicer that I actually wanted to drink or found even remotely appetizing was straight apple juice. If I was feeling particularly adventurous, I'd throw a few grapes or (gasp) a pear into my apple juice. Veggies? Nope. I hate veggies, anyway (I know, I'm the world's worst vegetarian), so I'm not sure what made me think that their taste would magically transform if I just extracted their juice and drank that. Straight carrot juice is tolerable, but I am scared it will make me turn orange like I saw in that one House, M.D. episode.
I tried a variety of different recipes, I tried to make up my own, I tried the "fresh parsley trick" that someone recommended to me (where a handful of fresh parsley allegedly makes any juice taste better). None of it made a difference. I hate juicing. Even my apple juice, which is delicious, is such a PITA to clean up after that it's hardly worth it for one glass. So my $100+ juicer is now hanging out in my garage.
Knowing me, and my inability to completely admit defeat, it will probably live in the garage until I decide that I need to jump back on that bandwagon and try again. This will be a vicious cycle for at least the next few years. In fact, I was considering dragging it back out today for breakfast. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment like that.
Why, you might ask? Hey, me too.
I got started when my friend Deven suggested that I watch some documentary on Netflix titled, Fat, Sick, & Nearly Dead, which chronicles some gazillionaire from Australia's journey into weight loss. So I did. It was inspiring. Not only did Mr. Australian Big Bucks loose lots of weight, his rare skin condition cleared up, his cholesterol went down, and I'm pretty sure it can cure cancer, too, even though they didn't mention it in the documentary. How did he do it?
You guessed it- juicing.
The premise is, why eat only one celery stick when you can reduce an entire bushel down into liquid form and drink that, instead? The fiber that actually fills you up is taken out, and you get all of the "micro-nutrients" that are good for you. It's a micro-nutrient overload.
WRONG
I have discovered that I HATE juicing. The only thing that I have gotten out of my juicer that I actually wanted to drink or found even remotely appetizing was straight apple juice. If I was feeling particularly adventurous, I'd throw a few grapes or (gasp) a pear into my apple juice. Veggies? Nope. I hate veggies, anyway (I know, I'm the world's worst vegetarian), so I'm not sure what made me think that their taste would magically transform if I just extracted their juice and drank that. Straight carrot juice is tolerable, but I am scared it will make me turn orange like I saw in that one House, M.D. episode.
I tried a variety of different recipes, I tried to make up my own, I tried the "fresh parsley trick" that someone recommended to me (where a handful of fresh parsley allegedly makes any juice taste better). None of it made a difference. I hate juicing. Even my apple juice, which is delicious, is such a PITA to clean up after that it's hardly worth it for one glass. So my $100+ juicer is now hanging out in my garage.
Knowing me, and my inability to completely admit defeat, it will probably live in the garage until I decide that I need to jump back on that bandwagon and try again. This will be a vicious cycle for at least the next few years. In fact, I was considering dragging it back out today for breakfast. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment like that.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Red Light, Green Light
I had my second ride on Stretch tonight. I got brave (or stupid) and decided to ride solo with no ground assistance. Actually, it was past 9pm and there was no one at the barn at all. Probably stupid. But honestly, I prefer to ride with no one around. No distractions. I can control the horse's entire world. Plus I love the quiet and peace of nighttime at the barn.
After mounting, my suspicions that the ground person that Stretch is so used to always having is more like a crutch were solidified. He seemed completely lost and did not want to move away from the mounting block. After nagging him with my legs and getting a few steps here and there, more nagging, and a few more steps, he finally seemed to get it.
We got a good forward walk going and after a lap around the arena, I decided that we needed to work on teh "go" cue. So I began whoa/walk/whoa transitions. Lots of them. He picked up the idea fairly quickly, and after maybe 5 minutes, it was old hat. I could get a walk with just a small bump pf the heel.
Interestingly, for the first half of our ride, the walk cue was met with lots of head tossing before he would take a step. By the second half of the ride, he was still very interested in the bit, but he was seeking it, playing with it, "testing" it. I sensed that he felt way more comfortable and confident when he knew where my hands were and what they were doing. Towards the end of the ride, he was very heavy in the bridle and seemed to like it. Silly horse. Note to self: Stretch likes lots of contact. For now.
After mounting, my suspicions that the ground person that Stretch is so used to always having is more like a crutch were solidified. He seemed completely lost and did not want to move away from the mounting block. After nagging him with my legs and getting a few steps here and there, more nagging, and a few more steps, he finally seemed to get it.
We got a good forward walk going and after a lap around the arena, I decided that we needed to work on teh "go" cue. So I began whoa/walk/whoa transitions. Lots of them. He picked up the idea fairly quickly, and after maybe 5 minutes, it was old hat. I could get a walk with just a small bump pf the heel.
Interestingly, for the first half of our ride, the walk cue was met with lots of head tossing before he would take a step. By the second half of the ride, he was still very interested in the bit, but he was seeking it, playing with it, "testing" it. I sensed that he felt way more comfortable and confident when he knew where my hands were and what they were doing. Towards the end of the ride, he was very heavy in the bridle and seemed to like it. Silly horse. Note to self: Stretch likes lots of contact. For now.
Memo to Stretch: "Go" Isn't An Option
Now that I've gotten him back up to a really nice weight after his Texas debacle and then a stint at a less-than-stellar "full care" boarding barn I had him at while finishing clinicals, it's time to start working him.
Don't get me wrong, I had hopped on him a couple of times at the barn in Turner in the round pen. He did okay. Nothing spectacular. I had The Boy help me by leading Stretch around for a bit until I was confident I wouldn't die, then back off so we could go solo. Problem is, Stretch almost requires someone leading him around. Without ground support, this horse is convinced that "forward" is impossible.
Since moving back up to the barn in Estacada, our focus has been getting weight on, building a topline, and finding a saddle that fits his crazy shark-fin withers. I finally figured out that my dressage saddle fits if accompanied by my nice fleece correction pad.
So this weekend I had Katie out at the barn and jumped on the chance to have a knowledgeable horseperson assist me with Mr. I-Can't-Go-Forward. She knew the ways to get him "jumps started" from behind and has the timing on when to back off that my sweet but non-horsey boyfriend just doesn't possess.
Stretch was.... just okay. Still is hesitant to move forward. When I start to really nag him, I can feel him tense up. Given his history of bucking off the last trainer who tried to establish forward with his dressage whip, I wanted to avoid that route. 17h is a loooong way down! I do have to admit that on horses that I am more confident with, I will get very aggressive about establishing forward. To me, it's vitally important that when I say "go," it means "GO NOW."
I just don't think I can get that aggressive with this horse. Yet.
So in the meantime, I suppose that my tactics will be to either annoy him until he moves forward then praise feverishly, or, when that starts to annoy me start pulling/kicking him in circles to show him that balking is highly unpleasant and I still expect his feet to move. Not sure we're even at that point yet.
I will, as usual, sit and ponder this obsessively, and likely try a few different approaches to see if I can figure out what gets this horse to click and what he responds to. I do know that I want him to learn how to go solo. No more ground helpers around as a crutch. Sorry, Stretch, you have to listen to ME.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Survivors
So it's 10pm and I'm blogging with a bowl of popcorn. I usually have a rule against eating things past 8pm. It's amazing how much weight just drops off on its own when I cut out the nighttime snacking habit. But tonight my willpower is down and it was either popcorn, ice cream, or cookie dough. I chose the lesser of the three evils and went with Healthy Pop, which tastes like cardboard but is giving me something to munch on.
Moving on.
This last summer I kept my horses pasture-boarded while I finished up my clinical rotation for school. While we were there, I had many life-altering "moments." First of all, this place had NO arena. None. Anywhere. There was a small round pen. That was all.
I happen to be an arena baby. I looooooove the arena. You know, with good footing, and corners, and straight walls. Virtually all of the training I do involve either the corners, the walls, or center/quarter lines. I have no idea what to do out in a field other than goof around for a nice easy hack. Kind of like a trail ride, where the only thing I want to accomplish is completing the ride with minimal drama.
So I solved that problem by not riding much all summer. Sure, I tried to ride in the round pen. It was fun for about 3 minutes and I quickly got bored.
Then one day out of the blue I decided to take the pony out for a "real" ride in the 40-acre hay field. Why I suddenly felt that she was ready to take on the big, open world at that moment still to this day mystifies me. I'm also not entirely sure why I felt that was the day to ignore my hatred of riding the tiny little 13.2 hand dainty pony. I always feel like I'm going to a.) squish her or b.) fall off the second she takes a misstep because there is nothing substantial about this pony to hold me up.
But I'm an impulsive person, so I went for it. Besides, I had ridden her in the round pen a few days earlier and she was only a *little* herd-bound, and we both survived.
I got her tacked up, led her to the gate, and she stood still like a good girl while I mounted and fidgeted with my stirrups. I was feeling a sense of confidence that my pony had, indeed, woken up one day and decided that she was going to become magically dead broke.
Off we went at a nice, calm walk. I was inwardly congratulating myself for my mad skillz at training the psycho pony. Then, approximately 20 feet from the gate, the Drama Pony must have realized that her friends were in a different field. On the other side of the barn. And that we had NEVER been in this field. She planted the brakes. I managed to boot her on until we were continuing in a tense, prancy jig, but at least it was the direction I wanted.
Another 20 feet later I got a spin-and-bolt attempt. Supposedly the bushes we were passing by were of the pony-eating variety. Thank God that in all my years of riding I have perfected the "You Can't Bolt If I Yank Your Head Around To My Kneecap and Spin You In Small Circles" maneuver. At this point I was livid. How DARE she try to run back to her friends! I decided there was no way in h*ll I was letting her move her feet back in that direction until she was being obedient. I don't need calm per se. I do need her to listen to me and not try to take matters into her own hands- er, hooves.
More prancy-jiggy crap. A few more spin-and-bolt attempts. A few times she planted her feet and refused to go forward at all (note: it is absolutely imperative to me that this pony ALWAYS go forward when told. When we first got her, she liked to rear as an evasion. I have seen her on multiple times rear so violently she flipped herself over. The rearing has gone away, but I've seen her do it, and I know she is capable. Therefore forward is a BIG DEAL- they can't rear if their feet are moving forward). Eventually I got her trotting in roughly 15m circles. It was hot out, she was out of shape, and got tired quickly. When she would trot politely in a full circle without trying to sidepass towards the barn, I would let her walk. As soon as she started being nutty again, back to the trot.
It was a long, hard ride, but she finally gave in and we walked back to the barn on a loose rein. As we were walking, several things hit me at once:
1.) I rode out the worst this pony has ever thrown at me and stayed on. I am not going to fall off the damn pony in a strong breeze. I *do* have good balance. I *am* a skilled rider. Several really bad falls off of a couple of previous horses has made me a timid/cautious rider. I don't need to be. I just need to get over myself.
2.) Pony was genuinely scared being out by herself, but even in her spin-and-bolt fits, not once did her front end leave the ground. I don't even think rearing crossed her little pony brain. It's amazing how far she's come since Katie and I first picked her up.
3.) I have ridden horses who have literally lost their minds when scared and there was no getting it back (refer to revelation #1, above). Horses are flight animals. It's what they do. The fact that the pony wanted to flee but eventually came back to me speaks volumes about her. She's a sensitive, nervous type anyway. The fact that we could still communicate with each other is huge for her.
This incident was several months ago. We have since moved back up to the barn in Estacada (I really missed the arena). In retrospect, while attempting to take the pony out on our little jaunt was somewhat impulsive and foolish at the time, I think it is one of the best things I could have done for both Drama and myself. I am no longer scared to ride her. Getting over my mental hangup about riding her has been great. I find that I actually enjoy riding her now, and her training has been progressing in leaps and bounds.
I think she, too, also came out better on the other end of our adventure. It seems like we bonded. She's much more in-tune to me, and she tries her heart out for me every day. It was like, in her little pony mind, the joint traumatic experience of having to ride in a field made us soul sisters. Everything that we used to struggle with before (trailer loading, clipping, taking her blanket off over her head) is suddenly a non-issue. I can almost hear her saying, "I'm not a fan of the blanket going over my head, but you and I went to Hell and back together, therefore I trust you."
Silly pony. I am still trying to sell her, but not as enthusiastically as I once was. I secretly wish she wont sell. If I had the money, I would keep her in a heartbeat. Maybe take some dressage lessons together. No, she doesn't have the "sparkle" for competitive FEI levels, but right now she has the heart and the willingness to likely make it to 4th and do pretty well.
Did I mention that we started schooling lateral movements just last week and she is now leg-yielding off of only my seat bones?
Moving on.
This last summer I kept my horses pasture-boarded while I finished up my clinical rotation for school. While we were there, I had many life-altering "moments." First of all, this place had NO arena. None. Anywhere. There was a small round pen. That was all.
I happen to be an arena baby. I looooooove the arena. You know, with good footing, and corners, and straight walls. Virtually all of the training I do involve either the corners, the walls, or center/quarter lines. I have no idea what to do out in a field other than goof around for a nice easy hack. Kind of like a trail ride, where the only thing I want to accomplish is completing the ride with minimal drama.
So I solved that problem by not riding much all summer. Sure, I tried to ride in the round pen. It was fun for about 3 minutes and I quickly got bored.
Then one day out of the blue I decided to take the pony out for a "real" ride in the 40-acre hay field. Why I suddenly felt that she was ready to take on the big, open world at that moment still to this day mystifies me. I'm also not entirely sure why I felt that was the day to ignore my hatred of riding the tiny little 13.2 hand dainty pony. I always feel like I'm going to a.) squish her or b.) fall off the second she takes a misstep because there is nothing substantial about this pony to hold me up.
But I'm an impulsive person, so I went for it. Besides, I had ridden her in the round pen a few days earlier and she was only a *little* herd-bound, and we both survived.
I got her tacked up, led her to the gate, and she stood still like a good girl while I mounted and fidgeted with my stirrups. I was feeling a sense of confidence that my pony had, indeed, woken up one day and decided that she was going to become magically dead broke.
Off we went at a nice, calm walk. I was inwardly congratulating myself for my mad skillz at training the psycho pony. Then, approximately 20 feet from the gate, the Drama Pony must have realized that her friends were in a different field. On the other side of the barn. And that we had NEVER been in this field. She planted the brakes. I managed to boot her on until we were continuing in a tense, prancy jig, but at least it was the direction I wanted.
Another 20 feet later I got a spin-and-bolt attempt. Supposedly the bushes we were passing by were of the pony-eating variety. Thank God that in all my years of riding I have perfected the "You Can't Bolt If I Yank Your Head Around To My Kneecap and Spin You In Small Circles" maneuver. At this point I was livid. How DARE she try to run back to her friends! I decided there was no way in h*ll I was letting her move her feet back in that direction until she was being obedient. I don't need calm per se. I do need her to listen to me and not try to take matters into her own hands- er, hooves.
More prancy-jiggy crap. A few more spin-and-bolt attempts. A few times she planted her feet and refused to go forward at all (note: it is absolutely imperative to me that this pony ALWAYS go forward when told. When we first got her, she liked to rear as an evasion. I have seen her on multiple times rear so violently she flipped herself over. The rearing has gone away, but I've seen her do it, and I know she is capable. Therefore forward is a BIG DEAL- they can't rear if their feet are moving forward). Eventually I got her trotting in roughly 15m circles. It was hot out, she was out of shape, and got tired quickly. When she would trot politely in a full circle without trying to sidepass towards the barn, I would let her walk. As soon as she started being nutty again, back to the trot.
It was a long, hard ride, but she finally gave in and we walked back to the barn on a loose rein. As we were walking, several things hit me at once:
1.) I rode out the worst this pony has ever thrown at me and stayed on. I am not going to fall off the damn pony in a strong breeze. I *do* have good balance. I *am* a skilled rider. Several really bad falls off of a couple of previous horses has made me a timid/cautious rider. I don't need to be. I just need to get over myself.
2.) Pony was genuinely scared being out by herself, but even in her spin-and-bolt fits, not once did her front end leave the ground. I don't even think rearing crossed her little pony brain. It's amazing how far she's come since Katie and I first picked her up.
3.) I have ridden horses who have literally lost their minds when scared and there was no getting it back (refer to revelation #1, above). Horses are flight animals. It's what they do. The fact that the pony wanted to flee but eventually came back to me speaks volumes about her. She's a sensitive, nervous type anyway. The fact that we could still communicate with each other is huge for her.
This incident was several months ago. We have since moved back up to the barn in Estacada (I really missed the arena). In retrospect, while attempting to take the pony out on our little jaunt was somewhat impulsive and foolish at the time, I think it is one of the best things I could have done for both Drama and myself. I am no longer scared to ride her. Getting over my mental hangup about riding her has been great. I find that I actually enjoy riding her now, and her training has been progressing in leaps and bounds.
I think she, too, also came out better on the other end of our adventure. It seems like we bonded. She's much more in-tune to me, and she tries her heart out for me every day. It was like, in her little pony mind, the joint traumatic experience of having to ride in a field made us soul sisters. Everything that we used to struggle with before (trailer loading, clipping, taking her blanket off over her head) is suddenly a non-issue. I can almost hear her saying, "I'm not a fan of the blanket going over my head, but you and I went to Hell and back together, therefore I trust you."
Silly pony. I am still trying to sell her, but not as enthusiastically as I once was. I secretly wish she wont sell. If I had the money, I would keep her in a heartbeat. Maybe take some dressage lessons together. No, she doesn't have the "sparkle" for competitive FEI levels, but right now she has the heart and the willingness to likely make it to 4th and do pretty well.
Did I mention that we started schooling lateral movements just last week and she is now leg-yielding off of only my seat bones?
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