I keep looking at my calendar and double checking my math. Saxon arrived in Kentucky on December 20th. Here it is, just about three weeks later and I feel like we've accomplished three months worth already. Nope, it's just three weeks, the math works out no matter how often I question it.
We are beginning our ascent up the hill of knowledge, if you will. We have cruised through the foothills at the beginning of our journey, mastering such basics as accepting the saddle and rider, standing still to be mounted (yup, we've got that one down pretty well now), and walking, trotting, and turning on command. Saxon has picked these things up incredibly well, showing that he is intelligent and eager to please. For the first week or two, I felt like we made a HUGE milestone nearly every day. But here's where the learning curve starts to get a little steeper and the milestones get less discrete and farther apart. Now it is not quite enough to simply go walk or trot when asked - now is when I start directing him HOW to go forwards, HOW to carry his body and his head, asking him to yield to the bit, and asking him to change his tempo. Now, it isn't enough to just turn right or left - now I want him to start using his body and bending around the turns. Now, I have started to ask him to turn on the haunches or forehand - isolating one portion of his body while yielding the other. You can't ask for or expect this all at once, but it happens a little bit at a time and you have to reward the little efforts.
Sometimes, we really get it, sometimes we sort of get it, and sometimes it's just not quite there yet. Case in point is bending - he can bend nicely to circle, but isn't really working off leg and seat yet, and the magnetic attraction of the barn and/or gate often makes our nice inside bend falls completely apart as our circles become decidedly lopsided in those regions. (He's no dummy - he knows that the barn = food, rest, and comfort.) He actually has turns on the haunches down fairly well and will often cross over himself. Usually, I would expect the turns on the forehand to be a bit easier, since horses naturally carry more of their weight on the front end and the proprioception of crossing over takes a while to figure out, but for him it seems to be the opposite.
That brings me to showmanship. For the un-horsey, showmanship is a horse show class judged on the handler's ability to present and handle a horse from the ground. They must execute a pattern together where the handler is judged on how well he/she can direct the horse's movement. I used to hate showmanship. I found it both frustrating and boring and thought it was silly to be judged on how I lead my horse. I have acquiesced since then, since I think it helps establish attentiveness and obedience on the ground which can then be carried over under saddle. This is especially true with youngsters who are just beginning their riding careers. Legs used to share my sentiment for showmanship. She'd fidget and make faces and generally be disapproving of such silliness. I truly think her four legs aren't actually at each corner. Squaring her up is like doing the Hokey Pokey. You put the right foot in, you put the right foot out. You put the right foot in, and back out, but never even with the left... In the last few years, she has finally given up, consenting to do her pattern and stand square(ish) and still if I stop harrassing her after that.
Saxon, on the other hand... If I didn't know better, I'd swear this horse already had some showmanship training. He actually squares up pretty well when asked, and is quickly figuring out which feet to move and where when I ask. He also trots off in hand quite well. Most of the time. The first time we worked on it specifically, he trotted off great. Except for the fact that he did so while pinning his ears and shaking his head at me, trying to provoke me to race and play with him. Evidently, he thought I was a herdmate and it was a game. While he wasn't fast enough to make a racehorse, he sure can trot a lot faster than I can run! Other times, he'll just be lazy about it and walk with his nose dragged out, like a lot of horses do when they don't feel like putting up with your silly leading game. The solution to that is a dressage whip in the left hand to tap them on their side as you ask. (Or better still, a dressage whip with a grocery bag on the end. No touching required! That got his attention and made him abandon his lazy ways!) There are plenty of little opportunities to "train" your horse at showmanship without a marathon training session. I like to make use of the little moments before or after I ride, or when leading him to/from turnout to practice little things like trotting off, squaring up, pivots, and backing in hand. With this added practice, he's stopped pinning his ears when trotting off (maybe he figured out that four legs are faster than two and I'm no competition). Of course, I've been bragging on his showmanship abilities here, and I'll guarantee you that the first show we go to, he'll be too busy gawking around to do all this cool stuff he's learned. But you have to start somewhere; if he can't do it at home, I certainly can't expect him to do it in a new place.
That brings us to our next learning achievement: lunging. There is some controversy concerning lunging horses, especially young ones. I won't get into the whole argument here, suffice to say that I think it can be useful in moderation (not hour long marathon sessions) or for special circumstances (eg evaluating lameness for the vet, teaching beginner riders, or getting the edge off a fresh horse before riding when turnout is not an option) and I think it is a skill that every horse should at least possess for those reasons. Saxon figured out lunging in one session. He may have done it before in the course of ground driving to be broke to harness; some trainers do it, some don't, so I'm not sure if he has. He still occasionally tries to go straight when he should be turning (especially to the left - I guess the phantom racetrack still beckons from time to time), but for the most part he stays out on the circle at the specified gait. So the second time I had him on the lunge line, he was trotting along so nicely I thought what the heck, let's see what happens... I kissed to him, said canter, and flicked the lunge whip towards him. Within a few strides, he had picked up a pretty darn nice canter. A long stride, and strung out, but with a nice even rhythm and no paciness. I let him go half a lap before he started to lose his coordination and boy did he get a lot of patting and praise when I stopped him. After a short break, we switched directions. J came out of the house so I told him "Watch this." I kissed, said canter, and J said "He's not going to... Hey, nice canter. When did he learn that?" <GRIN>
Since Saxon is rather lazy overall and seldom practices in the pasture, I figured that occasional lunging at the canter would help him improve his coordination and strength for cantering, and provide a good transition between my vocal cues and picking up the canter in preparation for doing it under saddle. We did our second lunging session with a brief canter two days later and he figured it right out again. So during my ride, I thought, what the heck... I kissed to him, said canter, and his neck arched up and both ears shot back at me with full focus (it was the exact same thing he did when we asked him to trot on his very first ride). He sped up his trot, so I slowed him down, rebalanced him, and asked him again. As we exited the corner of my tight arena, he just glided into a nice canter. It was surprisingly cadenced, smooth, and unhurried. While it wasn't collected by any stretch, he wasn't diving on his shoulder, running wildly, or flailing about like many green horses. We took about 9 or 10 strides before I stopped him and practically smothered him with hugging and praise. We did it one more time (just to prove to myself that it was real), and my redheaded overachiever got extra peppermints back at the barn! Ordinarily I wouldn't have pushed him if I didn't think he could do it, especially not in the tight confines of my front yard, which doesn't afford a lot of room for an experienced but unfit horse, let alone a green horse still figuring out how to balance his own body and a rider. I just couldn't help wanting to know if he could do it. And I LOVE the answer he gave me! We followed it up the next night with a ride out in the big back field. At it's conclusion, I asked him to canter about a dozen strides each direction, and was THRILLED to find that he has two clean leads (and they're both smooth)! And on top of that, he's completely sensible about picking it up. He doesn't lose his head or buck or go wild at the expanse of the pasture stretching out before him. He just rolls into the canter from a trot like a sensible horse. What a HUGE milestone! I'm not saying that it's a perfect collected canter or that his canter departs are top notch or we can do lead changes or anything yet, but it's FANTASTIC to know that he has a great natural ability for cantering both directions (with the right lead being slightly better than the left) that I can develop as we progress, and I don't think it will take him long to become very proficient.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
This Is A Test
This is a test of the horse show alert system. This is only a test. In the event of a real horse show, we would have gone to our first show... Please resume your normal winter activities.
January is undoubtedly the off season for me - safely cushioned from racing and riding seasons on both sides by winter days and winter weather. As I mentioned last time, I am a fair weather rider. In my younger days, much like the famous postal service slogan, neither sleet, nor snow, nor wind, et al. would stop me from saddling up. More recently, I find that I prefer staying warm and retaining the feeling in my extremities, secure in the knowledge that my horse doesn't need constant drilling to stay calm and remember her lessons. The weather this winter has been a delightful aberration, with largely dry conditions and temperatures in the 50s and 60s, making it possible for me to happily ride much more than I ordinarily would.
As it turns out, there are some opportunities to show during the winter months for the resourceful and adventurous. This past Sunday was just such an opportunity. While I wouldn't ordinarily consider taking a newly acquired not quite 3 year old to a show in January, Saxon is far from an ordinary horse. The plan was to let him look around the show grounds, and possibly take him in a halter class to see how he handled the show environment. Up until around 8:45 am, the plan went great. I bathed his tail and cleaned him up the day before. I packed the truck and trailer (it's very strange to pack for a show without taking a saddle - I kept feeling that I'd forgotten something). The morning of the show, I loaded him up (despite his lack of practice and the cumbersome shipping boots at all four corners, he walked readily on the trailer after mulling it over for a minute) and we got on the road. I hadn't even reached the end of my own road when I pushed the gas pedal to go up the next hill and nothing happened. %*($#@! The truck had stalled, just like it did in NJ the day before I was supposed to come home. A warning light appeared on the dash and it wouldn't restart, but I managed to coast to a safe area to pull over. Apparently the new alternator was NOT the solution. Poo. Once pulled over, it started up after a moment and we made it safely home.
Well, there is a bright side. I'm glad to have discovered the truck's continuing issues on a SHORT trip instead of hundreds of miles from home! This was great trailering practice for Saxon. He learned that not all trailer rides end with a new home environment. He disembarked my trailer at home wide eyed and high headed like he was surprised to be at the same place, and I learned to expect him to be a little "up" after a trailer ride (unlike his previous trailer marathon where we were both exhausted at its conclusion). [Mental note, be sure to pack a lunge line.] He learned to wear shipping boots. I determined that he will be very easy to teach to trailer load. He got his tail shampooed and conditioned. I found that my "skinny breeches" fit, even in the middle of winter. (Yay!) I learned that 15 minutes is enough time to fill half the trailer with stomped manure... I learned that clipping is something we'll have to work on.
The clipping story is kind of humorous, actually. I started out letting him sniff the unplugged clippers. I let the cord drape against his nose and neck. I rubbed them on his face, muzzle, and ears. As is his personality, he investigated them attentively, but wasn't the least bit frightened or concerned. I turned them on, and slowly approached. He kept a interested but unfrightened eye on them when I let him feel their vibration through my hand (without actually clipping him). I carefully attempted to clip one of the very long curly whiskers around his muzzle, and he jerked back as if hit with an electric shock. I rebooted and attempted again, but got the same reaction. After shortening several of his whiskers, I concluded that the blades were probably a little dull and were grabbing the hair. I attempted to clip his bridle path, but he shook his head vigorously from side to side whenever the buzzing neared his ears. I decided we should back up to where he was comfortable - just letting him feel the buzzing without actually clipping, and try again when we had more time. I used scissors to trim his remaining muzzle whiskers, though he got agitated before I could finish and I could tell he was running out of patience for having his muzzle messed with. When I took him out to the yard to work him afterwards, he immediately lifted his hindfoot towards his face and proceeded to rub the side of his muzzle up and down on his dangling hoof. After having long curly whiskers, I'm sure the close clipped sensation was very sensitive. Well, after the ride I let him out in the pasture and he proceeded to one of the nearby hay racks. He stuck his nose into the hay and immediately jumped back. He shook his head and did it again. Finally, he snatched a quick bite of hay, wheeled and trotted off 4 or 5 steps and chewed it angrily, holding his nose to the side and flinging it periodically. Evidently, the sensation of the hay stems poking his very sensitive stubble was more than he could take. I was starting to think that I'd broken my horse by trimming his whiskers. Maybe Saxon derived his abilities from his long curly whiskers the same way Sampson derived his strength from his flowing hair... He boycotted hay the rest of the day, but I found a nice soft bale of orchardgrass for his dinner which he reluctantly ate. I couldn't help but laugh at his behavior, but I also felt bad that I'd made him uncomfortable. If I'd known he had such a sensitive nose, I would have trimmed his whiskers a few at a time over the course of a week, but who would have guessed? They've toughened up some since then, so he's back to happily snarfing hay and he no longer pulls his muzzle back when I touch it, so I've opted to reacclimate him to clippers much more gradually.
January is undoubtedly the off season for me - safely cushioned from racing and riding seasons on both sides by winter days and winter weather. As I mentioned last time, I am a fair weather rider. In my younger days, much like the famous postal service slogan, neither sleet, nor snow, nor wind, et al. would stop me from saddling up. More recently, I find that I prefer staying warm and retaining the feeling in my extremities, secure in the knowledge that my horse doesn't need constant drilling to stay calm and remember her lessons. The weather this winter has been a delightful aberration, with largely dry conditions and temperatures in the 50s and 60s, making it possible for me to happily ride much more than I ordinarily would.
As it turns out, there are some opportunities to show during the winter months for the resourceful and adventurous. This past Sunday was just such an opportunity. While I wouldn't ordinarily consider taking a newly acquired not quite 3 year old to a show in January, Saxon is far from an ordinary horse. The plan was to let him look around the show grounds, and possibly take him in a halter class to see how he handled the show environment. Up until around 8:45 am, the plan went great. I bathed his tail and cleaned him up the day before. I packed the truck and trailer (it's very strange to pack for a show without taking a saddle - I kept feeling that I'd forgotten something). The morning of the show, I loaded him up (despite his lack of practice and the cumbersome shipping boots at all four corners, he walked readily on the trailer after mulling it over for a minute) and we got on the road. I hadn't even reached the end of my own road when I pushed the gas pedal to go up the next hill and nothing happened. %*($#@! The truck had stalled, just like it did in NJ the day before I was supposed to come home. A warning light appeared on the dash and it wouldn't restart, but I managed to coast to a safe area to pull over. Apparently the new alternator was NOT the solution. Poo. Once pulled over, it started up after a moment and we made it safely home.
Well, there is a bright side. I'm glad to have discovered the truck's continuing issues on a SHORT trip instead of hundreds of miles from home! This was great trailering practice for Saxon. He learned that not all trailer rides end with a new home environment. He disembarked my trailer at home wide eyed and high headed like he was surprised to be at the same place, and I learned to expect him to be a little "up" after a trailer ride (unlike his previous trailer marathon where we were both exhausted at its conclusion). [Mental note, be sure to pack a lunge line.] He learned to wear shipping boots. I determined that he will be very easy to teach to trailer load. He got his tail shampooed and conditioned. I found that my "skinny breeches" fit, even in the middle of winter. (Yay!) I learned that 15 minutes is enough time to fill half the trailer with stomped manure... I learned that clipping is something we'll have to work on.
The clipping story is kind of humorous, actually. I started out letting him sniff the unplugged clippers. I let the cord drape against his nose and neck. I rubbed them on his face, muzzle, and ears. As is his personality, he investigated them attentively, but wasn't the least bit frightened or concerned. I turned them on, and slowly approached. He kept a interested but unfrightened eye on them when I let him feel their vibration through my hand (without actually clipping him). I carefully attempted to clip one of the very long curly whiskers around his muzzle, and he jerked back as if hit with an electric shock. I rebooted and attempted again, but got the same reaction. After shortening several of his whiskers, I concluded that the blades were probably a little dull and were grabbing the hair. I attempted to clip his bridle path, but he shook his head vigorously from side to side whenever the buzzing neared his ears. I decided we should back up to where he was comfortable - just letting him feel the buzzing without actually clipping, and try again when we had more time. I used scissors to trim his remaining muzzle whiskers, though he got agitated before I could finish and I could tell he was running out of patience for having his muzzle messed with. When I took him out to the yard to work him afterwards, he immediately lifted his hindfoot towards his face and proceeded to rub the side of his muzzle up and down on his dangling hoof. After having long curly whiskers, I'm sure the close clipped sensation was very sensitive. Well, after the ride I let him out in the pasture and he proceeded to one of the nearby hay racks. He stuck his nose into the hay and immediately jumped back. He shook his head and did it again. Finally, he snatched a quick bite of hay, wheeled and trotted off 4 or 5 steps and chewed it angrily, holding his nose to the side and flinging it periodically. Evidently, the sensation of the hay stems poking his very sensitive stubble was more than he could take. I was starting to think that I'd broken my horse by trimming his whiskers. Maybe Saxon derived his abilities from his long curly whiskers the same way Sampson derived his strength from his flowing hair... He boycotted hay the rest of the day, but I found a nice soft bale of orchardgrass for his dinner which he reluctantly ate. I couldn't help but laugh at his behavior, but I also felt bad that I'd made him uncomfortable. If I'd known he had such a sensitive nose, I would have trimmed his whiskers a few at a time over the course of a week, but who would have guessed? They've toughened up some since then, so he's back to happily snarfing hay and he no longer pulls his muzzle back when I touch it, so I've opted to reacclimate him to clippers much more gradually.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Like Owner, Like Horse
For those of you rolling your eyes and thinking that this is going to be another blog post where I'm raving about my perfect new horse, who never puts a foot wrong and is certain to be an absolute paragon of the show ring, and who can't possibly be that perfect and awesome, this one's for you. Sort of.
Yes, I have new horse-itis. I still want to spoil Saxon, and baby him, and just spend hours brushing his face (which he practically drops into my lap for me to stroke) and watching him in the pasture. Even though my old mare lives out on pasture 24/7 (except in the case of bad weather or injury; ever since rehab for her stifle injury 5 years ago kept her stalled for 6 straight months, she seems to relish her freedom as if I might decide to imprison her again without warning), Saxon sleeps on a bed of fluffy straw in his stall every night. He has stopped looking surprised to see me every night just before bedtime when I sneak out to the barn to pick his stall and top off his water and hay. He's probably developing airs about the daily grooming and primping, and his wardrobe changes, and I'm pretty sure he thinks his new name is "Good Boy" or "Handsome" or quite possibly "His Excellency the Supreme Commander of All He Surveys."
Well, any jealous readers will be happy to know that he isn't completely perfect. (But what horse is? Though I digress...) We're now 12 days into our new riding career and he's finding that his crazy new owner isn't asking him to work very hard, but she is asking him to do the most bizarre things.
Saxon: See the poles on the ground there? Today she wants me to walk over them, then turn around and trot over, then turn around and trot over them again. Yesterday she wanted me to stand beside them, back up next to them, and turn around between them. The day before that, she had a tarp under them and led me over it. One day, she spent 10 minutes just getting on and off me. She spent another day squeezing a dog squeaker all around me and whizzing Frisbees past my head as the dog chased them. It's all very strange...
By now my readers have concluded that I like a calm, desensitized horse. And they're right. I am a methodical, cautious, and logical sort of person, so that's how I approach working with my horses. A recovering perfectionist (does one ever truly recover?), I've always been an overachiever, a straight A student, and I suppose some would call me a kiss-up because I aim to please and be praised, and to strive to do everything better. Saxon seems to have the same sort of mindset. Up to now, he has taken every new experience I've presented him methodically and unquestioningly. Well, we finally met some challenges that we had to work through. The first was water crossing. Heavy rainfall last week left a few large standing puddles a few inches deep in the back pasture. I took him out there on the lunge line to see if he would walk through them. I splashed through the puddle ahead of him, but he froze at the edge. He was uncertain and unenthused about the idea of going through the water, but he wasn't panicked. He fidgeted back and forth along the edge of the puddle and tried to inch backwards. I kept insisting, and he kept edging around until finally, he jumped it. Well, at least he can jump; that's a good thing. The next two attempts were the same way, but on the fourth try, with me up to my ankles in water, he braved it and walked through. Once he went through it the first time, he was happy to calmly walk through the puddle from then on. A couple days later we tried it under tack. It started off the same way - a lot of edging around and trying to back away from the puddle (his favorite avoidance tactic). I gave him the benefit of the doubt as much as I could, but he started trying to flee backwards more insistently, and I spoke to him in an admonishing tone while keeping leg on him. Well, his head shot up and both ears shot back towards me. It was as if he was unhappy that he hadn't gotten it right. I kept insisting that he not go backwards or side to side, and he eventually put one foot in, then the second, and then splashed nicely through the water. Pats and "good boys" followed, and, at the risk of anthropomorphizing, he almost seemed pleased and relieved to get the right answer, as his head went down, his ears went forwards, and he let out a big breath. "Oh, that's all you wanted? Well that's easy." After that, he was happy to oblige.
The second challenge was the tarp on the ground - that blue crinkling abyss that eats horses whole. I don't know if horses really learn through observation, but I made it a point to ride Legs over the tarp in sight of Saxon in his paddock. Legs, of course, is used to my shenanigans and unhesitatingly plodded over the tarp with a heavy sigh. ("Mom's at it again...") I brought Saxon out on the lead rope for his turn and let him have a good look at the tarp. The day was just windy enough that it would billow a little under the poles I had anchoring it. He took a good look at it, sniffed it, and like most horses, came to the conclusion that there was no need to actually walk OVER the tarp, as there was plenty of perfectly good real estate surrounding it on all sides. He did a lovely sidepass all the way around the tarp. (Well, there's another skill just waiting to be assigned to a rider's cue... He fidgeted some more, and finally stuck a foot on it. Nothing ate the foot, so he put the other front on it. So far so good. He stepped across it with his forefeet and neatly jumped it with the hinds. A good first effort got him some praise, and from then on, he walked happily across it, much more interested in trying to graze the grass in the yard then heed anything the crinkling blue mass was doing.
New Year's Eve Day we got our chance to ride in company, as my friend R came out to ride Legs. Saxon had mostly progressed past his sticky feet and to responding readily to minimal cues to go forwards (though he still loves to stop a lot just to look around). I guess he was just too overcome by Legs' beauty and charm to remember such trivialities, since the sticky feet returned. As long as she was in front of us or beside us, he was happy to stride along, but the suction cup feet kicked in when she lagged behind. We eventually worked through it, but we'll certainly have to get over that before we hit the showring!
On New Year's Day, winter attempted to make a comeback. Mild temperatures persisted, but gale force straightline winds (25 mph or more) heralded Old Man Winter's coming raid. Saxon tried to be a trooper in the wind, but he kept wanting to stop with his butt to the wind. He seemed less than pleased when the winds were so strong that both of his flattened ears were on the left side of his neck. We had our first under saddle spook when he caught sight of the blowing pine branches above the corner of our ring - they wind was so fierce it gave the impression that the branches might be ripped from the trees and turned into lances, so I can't say that I blame him. We worked our way back into that corner after that, closer and closer to the fenceline, so he seemed to get over it well.
Besides our work ethic and tendencies towards overachievement, Saxon and I seem to share a common dislike for cold winter weather. Winter was present in its full, blustery glory, complete with sideways snowfall. Normally a fair weather rider, the thrill of a new, young, fun horse to ride convinced me to saddle up. I opted to ride in the back pasture again, since it's a little more sheltered from the wind. Outfitted with a fleece dress sheet as a quarter sheet, we started our ride. He was "up" from the cold wind under his tail, but I didn't want to start trotting until I had removed the quarter sheet. He danced around and didn't want to stand close enough to the gate for me to deposit it from astride him, but had no objections when I actually slid it off him and laid it there. A flock of wild turkeys started flapping and strutting on the other side of the creek at the back of the field. I didn't expect this to rattle him, since he had become proficient at dodging honking Canadian geese on the track at his last home. Whether it was the weather or the turkeys, he made them the perfect excuse to get spooky and try to avoid the back fenceline. Rather than fight with him about it right away, I let him trot some big circles in the field to get the dance out of his feet. We rounded the corner towards the front gate and he spied the dress sheet now billowing on it. "What!? That wasn't there last time." He alternated between freezing and trying to be brave, but he couldn't quite convince himself that it was harmless. Legs came to the rescue, bless that mare. She came down to the fenceline to visit, parking herself right next to the dress sheet. As soon as he saw that the blanket wasn't attacking her, he was convinced that it was OK for him to go nuzzle it, too.
Other than being a little more responsive and crooked than normal, he finally settled down, so I went back to address the back fenceline. The snowfall started to fall thicker and the wind was blowing it sideways now. His Excellency was not pleased. He balked about going near the back fence, going sideways, backwards, every which way but towards it. At this point in his training, I know he understands the go forwards cues, so I kept at it. Standing still and going forwards were the only answers I would reward. He hopped up a little, then spooked when I growled at him for hopping up. By now, I sure couldn't give up - I didn't want to reward spooking and misbehavior with a trip back to the barn! More balking and avoidance, and it seemed that we could only get about 20 feet from that back fence. Finally I hopped off and led him forwards. He was more confident with me beside him, and sniffed at the fenceline and stood next to it while I climbed back on. We circled around to approach it again from astride, and someone decided that the only direction he was capable of going was back towards the front gate. Ah, so he IS a true redhead - I found his stubborn side! Enter my stubborn side. No matter how tempting, it doesn't pay off to get angry at a horse. It is far better to be insistent and persistent until you "win". This is where being stubborn comes in handy (despite the fact that BOTH of you would really rather be inside with a toasty hot chocolate or pile of hay than standing in the corner of a field staring at a fence with the wind and snow whipping past you). I found that he would turn left, but not right. So I turned left until we were turning right, and then went right. "Dangit! She tricked me!" He continued to balk, refuse to go forwards, swish his tail, spook a little and hop up when he was sufficiently peeved. I finally got him circling to the right by the offending fence. I switched directions to make a figure 8 to the left, and it was a war of attrition all over again when I asked him to go back to the right. We alternated the 8s with looping serpentines towards and away from the fence and kept at it. I kept up a constant chatter talking to him, as it seemed to relax him. I could barely feel my toes, but I finally succeeded in getting him to walk calmly alongside the fence, and I felt his sigh of surrender. One more quiet and relaxed lap of the field, and we both were only to happy to go back inside out of the wind.
Score one for the stubborn redhead who, as it turns out, is a lot like her overachieving and methodical but occasionally stubborn (and winter hating) redheaded horse!
Yes, I have new horse-itis. I still want to spoil Saxon, and baby him, and just spend hours brushing his face (which he practically drops into my lap for me to stroke) and watching him in the pasture. Even though my old mare lives out on pasture 24/7 (except in the case of bad weather or injury; ever since rehab for her stifle injury 5 years ago kept her stalled for 6 straight months, she seems to relish her freedom as if I might decide to imprison her again without warning), Saxon sleeps on a bed of fluffy straw in his stall every night. He has stopped looking surprised to see me every night just before bedtime when I sneak out to the barn to pick his stall and top off his water and hay. He's probably developing airs about the daily grooming and primping, and his wardrobe changes, and I'm pretty sure he thinks his new name is "Good Boy" or "Handsome" or quite possibly "His Excellency the Supreme Commander of All He Surveys."
Well, any jealous readers will be happy to know that he isn't completely perfect. (But what horse is? Though I digress...) We're now 12 days into our new riding career and he's finding that his crazy new owner isn't asking him to work very hard, but she is asking him to do the most bizarre things.
Saxon: See the poles on the ground there? Today she wants me to walk over them, then turn around and trot over, then turn around and trot over them again. Yesterday she wanted me to stand beside them, back up next to them, and turn around between them. The day before that, she had a tarp under them and led me over it. One day, she spent 10 minutes just getting on and off me. She spent another day squeezing a dog squeaker all around me and whizzing Frisbees past my head as the dog chased them. It's all very strange...
By now my readers have concluded that I like a calm, desensitized horse. And they're right. I am a methodical, cautious, and logical sort of person, so that's how I approach working with my horses. A recovering perfectionist (does one ever truly recover?), I've always been an overachiever, a straight A student, and I suppose some would call me a kiss-up because I aim to please and be praised, and to strive to do everything better. Saxon seems to have the same sort of mindset. Up to now, he has taken every new experience I've presented him methodically and unquestioningly. Well, we finally met some challenges that we had to work through. The first was water crossing. Heavy rainfall last week left a few large standing puddles a few inches deep in the back pasture. I took him out there on the lunge line to see if he would walk through them. I splashed through the puddle ahead of him, but he froze at the edge. He was uncertain and unenthused about the idea of going through the water, but he wasn't panicked. He fidgeted back and forth along the edge of the puddle and tried to inch backwards. I kept insisting, and he kept edging around until finally, he jumped it. Well, at least he can jump; that's a good thing. The next two attempts were the same way, but on the fourth try, with me up to my ankles in water, he braved it and walked through. Once he went through it the first time, he was happy to calmly walk through the puddle from then on. A couple days later we tried it under tack. It started off the same way - a lot of edging around and trying to back away from the puddle (his favorite avoidance tactic). I gave him the benefit of the doubt as much as I could, but he started trying to flee backwards more insistently, and I spoke to him in an admonishing tone while keeping leg on him. Well, his head shot up and both ears shot back towards me. It was as if he was unhappy that he hadn't gotten it right. I kept insisting that he not go backwards or side to side, and he eventually put one foot in, then the second, and then splashed nicely through the water. Pats and "good boys" followed, and, at the risk of anthropomorphizing, he almost seemed pleased and relieved to get the right answer, as his head went down, his ears went forwards, and he let out a big breath. "Oh, that's all you wanted? Well that's easy." After that, he was happy to oblige.
The second challenge was the tarp on the ground - that blue crinkling abyss that eats horses whole. I don't know if horses really learn through observation, but I made it a point to ride Legs over the tarp in sight of Saxon in his paddock. Legs, of course, is used to my shenanigans and unhesitatingly plodded over the tarp with a heavy sigh. ("Mom's at it again...") I brought Saxon out on the lead rope for his turn and let him have a good look at the tarp. The day was just windy enough that it would billow a little under the poles I had anchoring it. He took a good look at it, sniffed it, and like most horses, came to the conclusion that there was no need to actually walk OVER the tarp, as there was plenty of perfectly good real estate surrounding it on all sides. He did a lovely sidepass all the way around the tarp. (Well, there's another skill just waiting to be assigned to a rider's cue... He fidgeted some more, and finally stuck a foot on it. Nothing ate the foot, so he put the other front on it. So far so good. He stepped across it with his forefeet and neatly jumped it with the hinds. A good first effort got him some praise, and from then on, he walked happily across it, much more interested in trying to graze the grass in the yard then heed anything the crinkling blue mass was doing.
New Year's Eve Day we got our chance to ride in company, as my friend R came out to ride Legs. Saxon had mostly progressed past his sticky feet and to responding readily to minimal cues to go forwards (though he still loves to stop a lot just to look around). I guess he was just too overcome by Legs' beauty and charm to remember such trivialities, since the sticky feet returned. As long as she was in front of us or beside us, he was happy to stride along, but the suction cup feet kicked in when she lagged behind. We eventually worked through it, but we'll certainly have to get over that before we hit the showring!
On New Year's Day, winter attempted to make a comeback. Mild temperatures persisted, but gale force straightline winds (25 mph or more) heralded Old Man Winter's coming raid. Saxon tried to be a trooper in the wind, but he kept wanting to stop with his butt to the wind. He seemed less than pleased when the winds were so strong that both of his flattened ears were on the left side of his neck. We had our first under saddle spook when he caught sight of the blowing pine branches above the corner of our ring - they wind was so fierce it gave the impression that the branches might be ripped from the trees and turned into lances, so I can't say that I blame him. We worked our way back into that corner after that, closer and closer to the fenceline, so he seemed to get over it well.
Besides our work ethic and tendencies towards overachievement, Saxon and I seem to share a common dislike for cold winter weather. Winter was present in its full, blustery glory, complete with sideways snowfall. Normally a fair weather rider, the thrill of a new, young, fun horse to ride convinced me to saddle up. I opted to ride in the back pasture again, since it's a little more sheltered from the wind. Outfitted with a fleece dress sheet as a quarter sheet, we started our ride. He was "up" from the cold wind under his tail, but I didn't want to start trotting until I had removed the quarter sheet. He danced around and didn't want to stand close enough to the gate for me to deposit it from astride him, but had no objections when I actually slid it off him and laid it there. A flock of wild turkeys started flapping and strutting on the other side of the creek at the back of the field. I didn't expect this to rattle him, since he had become proficient at dodging honking Canadian geese on the track at his last home. Whether it was the weather or the turkeys, he made them the perfect excuse to get spooky and try to avoid the back fenceline. Rather than fight with him about it right away, I let him trot some big circles in the field to get the dance out of his feet. We rounded the corner towards the front gate and he spied the dress sheet now billowing on it. "What!? That wasn't there last time." He alternated between freezing and trying to be brave, but he couldn't quite convince himself that it was harmless. Legs came to the rescue, bless that mare. She came down to the fenceline to visit, parking herself right next to the dress sheet. As soon as he saw that the blanket wasn't attacking her, he was convinced that it was OK for him to go nuzzle it, too.
Other than being a little more responsive and crooked than normal, he finally settled down, so I went back to address the back fenceline. The snowfall started to fall thicker and the wind was blowing it sideways now. His Excellency was not pleased. He balked about going near the back fence, going sideways, backwards, every which way but towards it. At this point in his training, I know he understands the go forwards cues, so I kept at it. Standing still and going forwards were the only answers I would reward. He hopped up a little, then spooked when I growled at him for hopping up. By now, I sure couldn't give up - I didn't want to reward spooking and misbehavior with a trip back to the barn! More balking and avoidance, and it seemed that we could only get about 20 feet from that back fence. Finally I hopped off and led him forwards. He was more confident with me beside him, and sniffed at the fenceline and stood next to it while I climbed back on. We circled around to approach it again from astride, and someone decided that the only direction he was capable of going was back towards the front gate. Ah, so he IS a true redhead - I found his stubborn side! Enter my stubborn side. No matter how tempting, it doesn't pay off to get angry at a horse. It is far better to be insistent and persistent until you "win". This is where being stubborn comes in handy (despite the fact that BOTH of you would really rather be inside with a toasty hot chocolate or pile of hay than standing in the corner of a field staring at a fence with the wind and snow whipping past you). I found that he would turn left, but not right. So I turned left until we were turning right, and then went right. "Dangit! She tricked me!" He continued to balk, refuse to go forwards, swish his tail, spook a little and hop up when he was sufficiently peeved. I finally got him circling to the right by the offending fence. I switched directions to make a figure 8 to the left, and it was a war of attrition all over again when I asked him to go back to the right. We alternated the 8s with looping serpentines towards and away from the fence and kept at it. I kept up a constant chatter talking to him, as it seemed to relax him. I could barely feel my toes, but I finally succeeded in getting him to walk calmly alongside the fence, and I felt his sigh of surrender. One more quiet and relaxed lap of the field, and we both were only to happy to go back inside out of the wind.
Score one for the stubborn redhead who, as it turns out, is a lot like her overachieving and methodical but occasionally stubborn (and winter hating) redheaded horse!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Opportunities
Writing a blog creates a unique opportunity to archive, plan, dream, and share. Especially with a green horse, it can be useful for keeping track of your progress and achievements. I would like to use this one to track his physical growth, too. Saxon currently stands just a shade over 15.2hh at the withers and 15.3hh at the hip with a weight of around 925 pounds on my weight tape. This may sound low for a horse of his stature, but he's in good body condition - he just lacks body fat because he's still racing fit. The relatively sedentary life of a show/riding horse has replaced his days of jogging five miles a day interspersed with speed work, so Saxon will certainly be putting on some more pounds as he adapts to his new life and fills out with age. When I first saw photos of him about a month ago, his topline looked very level, so at his age, it is quite likely that he's undergoing a growth spurt.
I am fortunate that I need only walk out my front door to see my horses. This has meant that I have been able to ride and work with him every day since his arrival. I have gotten in the routine of feeding him first thing in the morning while I clean his stall, then tacking him up for a short riding session. At his stage of training, these rides are quite short, usually just 20 minutes or less. He is learning so much so quickly, that I want to keep the rides short and positive without overwhelming him with a plethora of new commands. After my first two rides on him, I thought he had the concept of moving forward off leg pressure down. On my next ride, things were going well until he decided that he wanted to head into the side yard near the side pasture gate. He would freeze or get stuck in reverse and I could only seem to turn him and get a step or two in a generally forwards direction. I kept trying and we eventually managed to work our way back into the front area, though at times I was worried that he would back himself into things without realizing it. The next day, I enlisted Justin's help. That one section of the yard seemed to be his main sticky area for losing forward movement, so after he'd get stuck, I'd ask him to move forwards and Justin would help by leading us at first, and then simply walking beside him. He's generally eager to walk, so I think what I assumed was him figuring out leg cues right off the bat was partially coincidence. Thanks to Justin's help we have weaned ourselves off of leading assist when he gets stuck to truly independent riding and he is getting better and better with each ride. It is similar for our trot work, too. It took a lot of clucking, kissing, and gentle but insistent squeezing at first to get a short burst of trot (along with Justin jogging next to us a few times), but now it takes much less leg and voice cues. We are able to walk and trot in any direction, over poles and between cones without any assistance after less than a week of riding experience.
I haven't found much that rattles him. He's very inquisitive, so he often wants to stop and look at things, but he'll usually just stand there with pricked ears and a cocked hip and no signs of nervousness. Case in point, the neighbor's German Shepherd puppy that bounds around their yard (including around their 10 foot tall lighted inflatable holiday Scooby Doo). Saxon likes to slow down in that corner and have a look, but he's not speeding up, scooting away, or "pointing" at it (I've come to the conclusion that STBs don't generally spook and turn tail at scary things like other horses, they tend to scoot away while "pointing" at it with their head and neck to make sure that you see it, too. "Look, look. See that? It's scary and I'm not going over there."). Saxon, on the other hand, just doesn't want to miss anything that's going on.
I was riding him by myself yesterday, when our heat pump (on the side of the house really close to where we ride) kicked into its defrost cycle which is extra loud and rattly. It seemed like a good opportunity to gauge his reaction to it. The heat pump is also near that little cross-country jump that startled him the first day he was here. I decided to ride over to it and let him check it out. Though we'd been doing much better about moving forward off leg, he got sticky near the jump as we approached the heat pump. Since he was backing towards the jump, my landscaping, and generally places that I didn't want a horse's rump to crash into, I opted to dismount and lead him over to the heat pump. He wasn't 100% sure about it, but he never tried to run backwards or swing himself around - it just took extra coaxing to inch him towards it a step at a time. We got there, and he willingly sniffed it, licked it, and let the fan blow onto his forelock and wasn't concerned when it kicked from defrost back to the heat cycle. Have I mentioned that I love this horse?
I was about to remount and resume our ride when a stampede of thundering hooves and loud mooing ensued as about 30 cows and calves streamed into the front pasture at the farm across the street. This was the first time that the cows had been visible since his arrival and they decided to make quite a spectacle of it. Saxon proved that he has some reactivity as his head shot up, and I saw the whites of his eyes for probably the first time ever. Well, I guess this is our opportunity to get used to cattle.
Cows are Legs' Achilles Heel. She is nearly perfect in so many ways, but this is her "thing." Though I distinctly remember her being pastured next to yearling calves when she was about 4 and I remember riding through cattle pastures at a careful distance when she was 6, sometime during the past 8 years she has decided that cows are ravenous, demonically possessed, horse-eating banshees and can't be convinced otherwise. If there is a cow in the area, she will spot it, point, and scoot, even if it's nearly half a mile away. Considering this, I certainly wanted to make Saxon's first encounter a positive one!
Still on foot, I led him towards the corner of the yard closest to the milling cattle. Other than the trailer ride home, this was the first time I'd seen him get nervous. He was prancing and dancing with his head up, and the nervous pooping started. He whinnied at them, as if trying to respond to their mooing. I got him close to the fence, but he didn't want to keep his feet still. I led him back and forth along the fence until he had settled down enough to stand mostly still, and then I perched myself on the top rain and let him just watch the cows and calves. One of the calves was headbutting the remnants of a round bale, rolling it across the pasture. Another was trying to mount its mother, and yet another engaged in a game of tag, bucking and running with its playmate. The remainder were milling noisily around the large metal creep feeder in their field. Legs would have freaked as clearly this is a sure sign that they are becoming organized and weaponized! Saxon saw the two playing calves and nickered to them. He seemed to think that they were little horses and was wondering why they looked and talked so funny. He was starting to settle down again, when the farmhand came rumbling into the field in a large tractor pulling the grain wagon. Trailing behind was the farmer in his ATV. For heaven's sake - this was quickly turning into quite the production. So we continued to watch as the guys climbed onto the creep feeder, banged open the metal lid, and positioned the boom over it to fill it with grain, cows milling and mooing in the meantime. Saxon seemed slightly on edge, but was content to stay near the corner where all the action was happening. The farmers finished filling the creep feeder and drove off across the field. I guess that was the cue to roll the credits, as the cows trailed off behind the tractor, leaving only a few cows and calves behind. This had been a much longer workout than I had planned, but I didn't want him to equate getting nervous with getting out of work, so I got on him just long enough to reinforce the skills we'd been working on. Though he had stood well for me to mount initially, I guess he was still a little up from the cattle stampede as he didn't want to stand still the second time. Something to work on for later...
When I turned him out in his paddock afterwards, instead of putting his hay in the hay rack near the gate, I took it to the front corner, which offered the best view of the cattle pasture (and the road). When I peeked out at him later in the day, he was dozing with his chin resting on the fence. I guess he didn't want to miss a minute of his favorite new show - the Cow Show. By the end of the day, any fear he'd had of the cows seemed to have turned to curiosity. And the other plus was that he got plenty of desensitization to the passing cars in the process (not that he needed it - they didn't seem to bother him anyhow).
Today was farrier day and Saxon was perfect. I held him in the aisle and rubbed his face (while he licked me) and he patiently stood as each foot was trimmed in turn. I had his shoes pulled for winter (well, the remaining two - he'd already somehow managed to remove both left ones on his own) and will try to leave him barefoot (with regular trims) for a while, so long as his feet stay good. They look like nice healthy feet with good hoof wall, so I'm not anticipating any problems. Today's forecast was all day rain changing over to sleet, so we had to do our "ride" in the barn aisle. Seems like an opportunity to work on standing still while mounting and dismounting to me. Once he got the idea down, he was perfect. I mounted and dismounted a couple times from the right, too. It sure feels awkward to me, though he doesn't know the difference, and it's always a good idea to acclimate the horse to it in case you have to do so for some reason in the future. We rode through the water noodles, and he was just as calm and willing about it as when we did it in hand. We worked just a bit on yielding the forehand and hindquarters to leg pressure. Have I mentioned that this horse is really smart and willing? This was our first go at it, and he was already getting the gist of it.
No horse is perfect, for sure, but Saxon sure has a lot going for him as a riding horse and show prospect between his looks, movement, and amazing disposition. I am thrilled at what we've done in a mere 6 days and can't wait to see what we will accomplish tomorrow!
I am fortunate that I need only walk out my front door to see my horses. This has meant that I have been able to ride and work with him every day since his arrival. I have gotten in the routine of feeding him first thing in the morning while I clean his stall, then tacking him up for a short riding session. At his stage of training, these rides are quite short, usually just 20 minutes or less. He is learning so much so quickly, that I want to keep the rides short and positive without overwhelming him with a plethora of new commands. After my first two rides on him, I thought he had the concept of moving forward off leg pressure down. On my next ride, things were going well until he decided that he wanted to head into the side yard near the side pasture gate. He would freeze or get stuck in reverse and I could only seem to turn him and get a step or two in a generally forwards direction. I kept trying and we eventually managed to work our way back into the front area, though at times I was worried that he would back himself into things without realizing it. The next day, I enlisted Justin's help. That one section of the yard seemed to be his main sticky area for losing forward movement, so after he'd get stuck, I'd ask him to move forwards and Justin would help by leading us at first, and then simply walking beside him. He's generally eager to walk, so I think what I assumed was him figuring out leg cues right off the bat was partially coincidence. Thanks to Justin's help we have weaned ourselves off of leading assist when he gets stuck to truly independent riding and he is getting better and better with each ride. It is similar for our trot work, too. It took a lot of clucking, kissing, and gentle but insistent squeezing at first to get a short burst of trot (along with Justin jogging next to us a few times), but now it takes much less leg and voice cues. We are able to walk and trot in any direction, over poles and between cones without any assistance after less than a week of riding experience.
I haven't found much that rattles him. He's very inquisitive, so he often wants to stop and look at things, but he'll usually just stand there with pricked ears and a cocked hip and no signs of nervousness. Case in point, the neighbor's German Shepherd puppy that bounds around their yard (including around their 10 foot tall lighted inflatable holiday Scooby Doo). Saxon likes to slow down in that corner and have a look, but he's not speeding up, scooting away, or "pointing" at it (I've come to the conclusion that STBs don't generally spook and turn tail at scary things like other horses, they tend to scoot away while "pointing" at it with their head and neck to make sure that you see it, too. "Look, look. See that? It's scary and I'm not going over there."). Saxon, on the other hand, just doesn't want to miss anything that's going on.
I was riding him by myself yesterday, when our heat pump (on the side of the house really close to where we ride) kicked into its defrost cycle which is extra loud and rattly. It seemed like a good opportunity to gauge his reaction to it. The heat pump is also near that little cross-country jump that startled him the first day he was here. I decided to ride over to it and let him check it out. Though we'd been doing much better about moving forward off leg, he got sticky near the jump as we approached the heat pump. Since he was backing towards the jump, my landscaping, and generally places that I didn't want a horse's rump to crash into, I opted to dismount and lead him over to the heat pump. He wasn't 100% sure about it, but he never tried to run backwards or swing himself around - it just took extra coaxing to inch him towards it a step at a time. We got there, and he willingly sniffed it, licked it, and let the fan blow onto his forelock and wasn't concerned when it kicked from defrost back to the heat cycle. Have I mentioned that I love this horse?
I was about to remount and resume our ride when a stampede of thundering hooves and loud mooing ensued as about 30 cows and calves streamed into the front pasture at the farm across the street. This was the first time that the cows had been visible since his arrival and they decided to make quite a spectacle of it. Saxon proved that he has some reactivity as his head shot up, and I saw the whites of his eyes for probably the first time ever. Well, I guess this is our opportunity to get used to cattle.
Cows are Legs' Achilles Heel. She is nearly perfect in so many ways, but this is her "thing." Though I distinctly remember her being pastured next to yearling calves when she was about 4 and I remember riding through cattle pastures at a careful distance when she was 6, sometime during the past 8 years she has decided that cows are ravenous, demonically possessed, horse-eating banshees and can't be convinced otherwise. If there is a cow in the area, she will spot it, point, and scoot, even if it's nearly half a mile away. Considering this, I certainly wanted to make Saxon's first encounter a positive one!
Still on foot, I led him towards the corner of the yard closest to the milling cattle. Other than the trailer ride home, this was the first time I'd seen him get nervous. He was prancing and dancing with his head up, and the nervous pooping started. He whinnied at them, as if trying to respond to their mooing. I got him close to the fence, but he didn't want to keep his feet still. I led him back and forth along the fence until he had settled down enough to stand mostly still, and then I perched myself on the top rain and let him just watch the cows and calves. One of the calves was headbutting the remnants of a round bale, rolling it across the pasture. Another was trying to mount its mother, and yet another engaged in a game of tag, bucking and running with its playmate. The remainder were milling noisily around the large metal creep feeder in their field. Legs would have freaked as clearly this is a sure sign that they are becoming organized and weaponized! Saxon saw the two playing calves and nickered to them. He seemed to think that they were little horses and was wondering why they looked and talked so funny. He was starting to settle down again, when the farmhand came rumbling into the field in a large tractor pulling the grain wagon. Trailing behind was the farmer in his ATV. For heaven's sake - this was quickly turning into quite the production. So we continued to watch as the guys climbed onto the creep feeder, banged open the metal lid, and positioned the boom over it to fill it with grain, cows milling and mooing in the meantime. Saxon seemed slightly on edge, but was content to stay near the corner where all the action was happening. The farmers finished filling the creep feeder and drove off across the field. I guess that was the cue to roll the credits, as the cows trailed off behind the tractor, leaving only a few cows and calves behind. This had been a much longer workout than I had planned, but I didn't want him to equate getting nervous with getting out of work, so I got on him just long enough to reinforce the skills we'd been working on. Though he had stood well for me to mount initially, I guess he was still a little up from the cattle stampede as he didn't want to stand still the second time. Something to work on for later...
When I turned him out in his paddock afterwards, instead of putting his hay in the hay rack near the gate, I took it to the front corner, which offered the best view of the cattle pasture (and the road). When I peeked out at him later in the day, he was dozing with his chin resting on the fence. I guess he didn't want to miss a minute of his favorite new show - the Cow Show. By the end of the day, any fear he'd had of the cows seemed to have turned to curiosity. And the other plus was that he got plenty of desensitization to the passing cars in the process (not that he needed it - they didn't seem to bother him anyhow).
Today was farrier day and Saxon was perfect. I held him in the aisle and rubbed his face (while he licked me) and he patiently stood as each foot was trimmed in turn. I had his shoes pulled for winter (well, the remaining two - he'd already somehow managed to remove both left ones on his own) and will try to leave him barefoot (with regular trims) for a while, so long as his feet stay good. They look like nice healthy feet with good hoof wall, so I'm not anticipating any problems. Today's forecast was all day rain changing over to sleet, so we had to do our "ride" in the barn aisle. Seems like an opportunity to work on standing still while mounting and dismounting to me. Once he got the idea down, he was perfect. I mounted and dismounted a couple times from the right, too. It sure feels awkward to me, though he doesn't know the difference, and it's always a good idea to acclimate the horse to it in case you have to do so for some reason in the future. We rode through the water noodles, and he was just as calm and willing about it as when we did it in hand. We worked just a bit on yielding the forehand and hindquarters to leg pressure. Have I mentioned that this horse is really smart and willing? This was our first go at it, and he was already getting the gist of it.
No horse is perfect, for sure, but Saxon sure has a lot going for him as a riding horse and show prospect between his looks, movement, and amazing disposition. I am thrilled at what we've done in a mere 6 days and can't wait to see what we will accomplish tomorrow!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Please Don't Wake Me Up
I'm just two days into owning Saxon and he simply amazes me. I knew he was good looking, I knew he was a nice mover. The surprise? That he's one of the most level-headed, brave, and willing horses I've ever had the pleasure of working with. In only two days, I've done more with him than I expected to accomplish in two weeks. He's very young, trained but never raced, had only been on a horse trailer twice in his life, and only lived at two or three places in his young life. He certainly never had any experience like being plucked from the only life he'd ever known and driven 700 miles away to live in a new place with a stranger. Yet he settled into his new surroundings immediately and has put an incredible amount of trust in me already. I feel like this can't be real and I'll wake up from my dream soon to find that he isn't there. Please don't wake me up - I'm having a REALLY good dream!
I figured the first day he was here, I would tend to him, groom him a little, but take it easy and let him settle in as he would surely be wary of his new surroundings. (Right?) He was so quiet on the cross-ties after breakfast when groomed him and checked his temperature and vitals that I thought I'd get him used to the mounting block. I dropped it around him with a clunk, hopped up and down on it making monkey noises and waving my arms, stood on it leaning across his back letting my arms brush all over his sides. I got an eventual ear flick for the monkey noises. That's it. An ear flick. He didn't even glance at me carrying on or roll an eye at the falling mounting block, just stood patiently in the cross-ties. Well, since we're here... I got my little synthetic western saddle out to try on him. I let him sniff it, he ascertained that it wasn't made of carrot, and I flopped it onto his back. I flapped the fenders and stirrups around on him, but he wasn't the slightest bit bothered. Normally, I would NEVER get on such a green horse when nobody else was home, but he was just being so good that I thought maybe I'd just mount and dismount once.
With helmet and bridle in place, I eased onto him. He seemed to want to walk, so we carefully walked down my 30 foot barn aisle, turned around, and walked down to the other end. He really wasn't bothered about having a rider. He poked his nose into the hanging halters, investigated the tack trunks, looked into the tack room and peered out the barn door but was more than happy to listen to my requests to go, stop, turn, and back. Yes, back. It happened by accident, but he had pushed himself up against the divider that separates my stall area from the storage area in the barn trying to have a better look around, and we had to back up in order to get turned around. Asking a green horse to back can be a little scary - you never know if they'll decide to rear in response to the increasing rein pressure, and even if they don't, they usually brace against your hand and you have to basically muscle them backwards. I gingerly applied the aids, and he dropped his head, gave at the poll, and backed like a seasoned show horse. Wow. At one point, he poked his nose into my stacked plastic blanket totes, causing the top one to shift and clunk down onto the other one. He flinched, but didn't move his feet. This horse is something else! Most young horses would lose their minds at falling plastic boxes on just their second solo ride. His reward was a big hug, a handful of peppermints, and going out to the paddock to play.
In the evening, I decided to take Saxon on a walking tour of the front yard and barn area before putting him in his stall for the night. I thought maybe I'd tackle a ground pole, hand graze him a little, and that would be enough for one night. I led him towards the 6' long red and white painted pole, and he just walked over it. He didn't look at it, didn't snort or sniff at it, didn't try to go around it, just casually walked over it like he does this all the time. I did it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke - same thing. So we headed off beside the house. All of a sudden, he gave a BIG spook when he saw my 2 foot tall stacked log cross-country jump around the corner. He spooked so big and crouched so low that I thought he was going down on his knees, and somehow he managed to step on BOTH of my big toes, but avoided the rest of me. Well, he immediately got up, marched forward, sniffed the jump and tried to taste the top pole. I led him around it on all sides, expecting some degree of lingering concern, but he had obviously already concluded that it was harmless and nothing to be interested in (except for trying to taste it again).
Alright, how about the pair of wing standards that I use for my trail gate? He gave one small snort as we approached it, but didn't hesitate about walking between them, or between the orange cones next to them. He didn't even look at the big black plastic barrel near the front fence. He calmly walked by it, even when I banged on it so that it made noise. We walked up the garden retaining wall, over the 10" stack of logs by the barn, under the pine trees that swished onto his rump. This was his very first time seeing these things, yet he was absolutely unconcerned. Our grand finale was my trail bridge - a 4 foot long slightly raised plank bridge. I had it set up near the entrance to the barn. No horse doesn't at least LOOK at it before crossing it (even Legs drops her head and gives it a good look as she goes over), and most inexperienced horses take a lot of coaxing before they'll cross it. Nope, he just strode over it without so much as glancing at it. Twice more with the same result. This horse is amazing. And he's not quite 3 years old yet! More hugs and dinner for Saxon, and I was practically skipping when I went back into the house for the night.
I had hoped to get on Saxon again this morning and perhaps ground drive him around the back field in the evening, but the weather refused to cooperate. He got his grooming, got his sheath cleaned and I tacked him up to brave the morning drizzle. He didn't want to stand still for the mounting block, and ended up walking off with me still half on and half off. I got my other leg over him and we proceeded to walk around the driveway and on into the front yard (my "arena"). He happily walked around the yard and over the ground pole. We kept the ride short and just worked on walking, stopping, and a little turning. The only thing I can really fault him with is that he doesn't like to stand still and occasionally just wants to go his own direction (except when he's in his stall or on cross-ties). Honestly, though, Legs was the same way when I got her. It took quite a while before she learned to stand still and stop fidgeting. When a young racehorse is out of their stall, it's time to go to work. Standing still just isn't part of the protocol. So I would ask Saxon to halt and count to 5. If we succeeded, he got to walk; if not, we tried it again.
It was pouring in the evening when I went out to work with him before dinner-time, squelching my plans to ground drive him. So I figured I would tackle some more ground work in the barn. I tried sacking him out with a plastic grocery bag. He wanted to nibble it, but had no objections to it making crinkly noises or touching him anywhere (though he shook his ears quite comically when I crinkled it behind his poll). I took a water noodle on a rope and let him investigate it. (Is it food? Can I taste it?) He had a hip cocked and just stood there when I swung it around him and flopped it all over him. So I let it drag alongside us as I led him. This generated a small response - he arced his body away from it and eyed it as he walked beside it. We did it several more times on both sides and he ignored it, even when he stepped on it by accident. I stood him in the barn aisle and let it drag towards him. He simply wasn't bothered. On to the water noodle curtain - a row of brightly colored water noodles suspended across the doorway of one of my spare stalls. It's a pretty scary looking thing that I constructed after running into such an obstacle in the trail class at some of the horse shows I attend. Most horses balk at pushing their head between the noodles, then scoot through as the noodles brush their sides. And again, Saxon showed calmness and bravery that you just don't see in a horse of his age. He just walked right through.
It's clear that Saxon's early training was conscientious, thorough, and earned his trust and confidence. The more I work with him, the more he amazes me. It's hard to call what I've been doing with him "training" when I'm simply asking him to do something and he does it. It's just too easy to be training! I guess we'll be doing tempi changes and half passes by next week! (Ok, maybe not quite...) But if this IS a dream, please don't wake me up! It's starting to get really, really good!
I figured the first day he was here, I would tend to him, groom him a little, but take it easy and let him settle in as he would surely be wary of his new surroundings. (Right?) He was so quiet on the cross-ties after breakfast when groomed him and checked his temperature and vitals that I thought I'd get him used to the mounting block. I dropped it around him with a clunk, hopped up and down on it making monkey noises and waving my arms, stood on it leaning across his back letting my arms brush all over his sides. I got an eventual ear flick for the monkey noises. That's it. An ear flick. He didn't even glance at me carrying on or roll an eye at the falling mounting block, just stood patiently in the cross-ties. Well, since we're here... I got my little synthetic western saddle out to try on him. I let him sniff it, he ascertained that it wasn't made of carrot, and I flopped it onto his back. I flapped the fenders and stirrups around on him, but he wasn't the slightest bit bothered. Normally, I would NEVER get on such a green horse when nobody else was home, but he was just being so good that I thought maybe I'd just mount and dismount once.
With helmet and bridle in place, I eased onto him. He seemed to want to walk, so we carefully walked down my 30 foot barn aisle, turned around, and walked down to the other end. He really wasn't bothered about having a rider. He poked his nose into the hanging halters, investigated the tack trunks, looked into the tack room and peered out the barn door but was more than happy to listen to my requests to go, stop, turn, and back. Yes, back. It happened by accident, but he had pushed himself up against the divider that separates my stall area from the storage area in the barn trying to have a better look around, and we had to back up in order to get turned around. Asking a green horse to back can be a little scary - you never know if they'll decide to rear in response to the increasing rein pressure, and even if they don't, they usually brace against your hand and you have to basically muscle them backwards. I gingerly applied the aids, and he dropped his head, gave at the poll, and backed like a seasoned show horse. Wow. At one point, he poked his nose into my stacked plastic blanket totes, causing the top one to shift and clunk down onto the other one. He flinched, but didn't move his feet. This horse is something else! Most young horses would lose their minds at falling plastic boxes on just their second solo ride. His reward was a big hug, a handful of peppermints, and going out to the paddock to play.
In the evening, I decided to take Saxon on a walking tour of the front yard and barn area before putting him in his stall for the night. I thought maybe I'd tackle a ground pole, hand graze him a little, and that would be enough for one night. I led him towards the 6' long red and white painted pole, and he just walked over it. He didn't look at it, didn't snort or sniff at it, didn't try to go around it, just casually walked over it like he does this all the time. I did it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke - same thing. So we headed off beside the house. All of a sudden, he gave a BIG spook when he saw my 2 foot tall stacked log cross-country jump around the corner. He spooked so big and crouched so low that I thought he was going down on his knees, and somehow he managed to step on BOTH of my big toes, but avoided the rest of me. Well, he immediately got up, marched forward, sniffed the jump and tried to taste the top pole. I led him around it on all sides, expecting some degree of lingering concern, but he had obviously already concluded that it was harmless and nothing to be interested in (except for trying to taste it again).
Alright, how about the pair of wing standards that I use for my trail gate? He gave one small snort as we approached it, but didn't hesitate about walking between them, or between the orange cones next to them. He didn't even look at the big black plastic barrel near the front fence. He calmly walked by it, even when I banged on it so that it made noise. We walked up the garden retaining wall, over the 10" stack of logs by the barn, under the pine trees that swished onto his rump. This was his very first time seeing these things, yet he was absolutely unconcerned. Our grand finale was my trail bridge - a 4 foot long slightly raised plank bridge. I had it set up near the entrance to the barn. No horse doesn't at least LOOK at it before crossing it (even Legs drops her head and gives it a good look as she goes over), and most inexperienced horses take a lot of coaxing before they'll cross it. Nope, he just strode over it without so much as glancing at it. Twice more with the same result. This horse is amazing. And he's not quite 3 years old yet! More hugs and dinner for Saxon, and I was practically skipping when I went back into the house for the night.
I had hoped to get on Saxon again this morning and perhaps ground drive him around the back field in the evening, but the weather refused to cooperate. He got his grooming, got his sheath cleaned and I tacked him up to brave the morning drizzle. He didn't want to stand still for the mounting block, and ended up walking off with me still half on and half off. I got my other leg over him and we proceeded to walk around the driveway and on into the front yard (my "arena"). He happily walked around the yard and over the ground pole. We kept the ride short and just worked on walking, stopping, and a little turning. The only thing I can really fault him with is that he doesn't like to stand still and occasionally just wants to go his own direction (except when he's in his stall or on cross-ties). Honestly, though, Legs was the same way when I got her. It took quite a while before she learned to stand still and stop fidgeting. When a young racehorse is out of their stall, it's time to go to work. Standing still just isn't part of the protocol. So I would ask Saxon to halt and count to 5. If we succeeded, he got to walk; if not, we tried it again.
It was pouring in the evening when I went out to work with him before dinner-time, squelching my plans to ground drive him. So I figured I would tackle some more ground work in the barn. I tried sacking him out with a plastic grocery bag. He wanted to nibble it, but had no objections to it making crinkly noises or touching him anywhere (though he shook his ears quite comically when I crinkled it behind his poll). I took a water noodle on a rope and let him investigate it. (Is it food? Can I taste it?) He had a hip cocked and just stood there when I swung it around him and flopped it all over him. So I let it drag alongside us as I led him. This generated a small response - he arced his body away from it and eyed it as he walked beside it. We did it several more times on both sides and he ignored it, even when he stepped on it by accident. I stood him in the barn aisle and let it drag towards him. He simply wasn't bothered. On to the water noodle curtain - a row of brightly colored water noodles suspended across the doorway of one of my spare stalls. It's a pretty scary looking thing that I constructed after running into such an obstacle in the trail class at some of the horse shows I attend. Most horses balk at pushing their head between the noodles, then scoot through as the noodles brush their sides. And again, Saxon showed calmness and bravery that you just don't see in a horse of his age. He just walked right through.
It's clear that Saxon's early training was conscientious, thorough, and earned his trust and confidence. The more I work with him, the more he amazes me. It's hard to call what I've been doing with him "training" when I'm simply asking him to do something and he does it. It's just too easy to be training! I guess we'll be doing tempi changes and half passes by next week! (Ok, maybe not quite...) But if this IS a dream, please don't wake me up! It's starting to get really, really good!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Start of a New Adventure
This blog will chronicle the training and adventures of Heavymetal Thunder (aka Saxon), a 2009 chestnut Standardbred gelding. Just two years old (soon to be three), he is pacing bred but doesn't have the makings of a successful pacer, as he couldn't train down fast enough for the track, and he prefers to trot (even in hopples sometimes - there's a funny story about that...). He was given to me by his caring owner/trainer/breeder who realized that he wasn't going to make a racehorse and wanted to give him a new future where he would be loved and appreciated. He is young, beautiful, sound, has nice movement and a curious, willing temperament. For those that know me and my older Standardbred mare, Veruca Salt (she has a Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/StandardbredShowHorseVerucaSalt if you want to learn more about her), this background may sound more than a little familiar. ;-) It's way too early in his newly minted riding career for such comparisons, but I am really excited about working with him and unlocking his potential.
I love a good double (or triple) entendre. I thought for a while about what to call this blog, before The Redheaded Standardbred came to me. Chestnuts (redheads), though less common than their bay and brown counterparts, DO occur in the Standardbred breed (along with blacks, grays, and roans, too), despite the breed's reputation for only being plain unmarked bay. As it turns out, I too am a redhead. We also are less common than our blonde and brunette counterparts. (Recessive genes at work!) And we have a reputation for being feisty, tempermental and stubborn (ok, that one might be true sometimes!). Also, despite an increasing number of lovely Standardbreds currently demonstrating the breed's capabilities beyond harness racing, they are still largely considered the "redheaded stepchild" of the horse show world by uninformed people who cling to old stereotypes about the breed. By gently making light of this with my blog title, maybe I can help just a few more folks realize that Standardbreds have many merits as riding, show, and pleasure horses as they follow along with the adventures of a redhead and her (redheaded) Standardbred.
I love a good double (or triple) entendre. I thought for a while about what to call this blog, before The Redheaded Standardbred came to me. Chestnuts (redheads), though less common than their bay and brown counterparts, DO occur in the Standardbred breed (along with blacks, grays, and roans, too), despite the breed's reputation for only being plain unmarked bay. As it turns out, I too am a redhead. We also are less common than our blonde and brunette counterparts. (Recessive genes at work!) And we have a reputation for being feisty, tempermental and stubborn (ok, that one might be true sometimes!). Also, despite an increasing number of lovely Standardbreds currently demonstrating the breed's capabilities beyond harness racing, they are still largely considered the "redheaded stepchild" of the horse show world by uninformed people who cling to old stereotypes about the breed. By gently making light of this with my blog title, maybe I can help just a few more folks realize that Standardbreds have many merits as riding, show, and pleasure horses as they follow along with the adventures of a redhead and her (redheaded) Standardbred.
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