tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79473034998993572882024-03-13T07:02:06.785-07:00A Student of the HorseAfter the loss of a special horse, I wanted to find a way to honor his memory and the lessons he taught me. This blog is about my continued reflection on the lessons I've learned so far and my pursuit of new information to help me be the best horsewoman I can be.Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-26006278285322228272024-01-20T08:46:00.000-08:002024-01-20T08:46:48.852-08:00Transformation<p>I am reflecting on the past year, and it still seems so surreal to me. I hardly know where to start. I've written already about the incredible impact that working with Felicity Davies has had on me, and that impact has continued and magnified.</p><p>I spent the fall enrolled in several courses, the most influential of which were Lockie Phillips' <a href="https://www.emotionalhorsemanship.com/homecoming" target="_blank">Homecoming course</a> and the Balance Through Movement Method <a href="https://www.balancethroughmovementmethod.com/nerve-course" target="_blank">Nerve Release Self-Study course</a>. I also started working with Felicity again through her <a href="https://www.felicitydavies.com.au/illuminate" target="_blank">Illuminate program</a>. The epiphanies that I have experienced during the past few months have been life-changing, as you'll see below:)</p><p>I am now moving on to the next level this year. I've been accepted into the certification program for the Lazaris Nerve Release Technique, and I am expecting to pursue doing the work professionally later this year. I'm also continuing to work with Lockie through 1:1 sessions and of course, working with Felicity. There are a couple of other things in the works too, and I'm so thrilled to be able to start putting things together into a holistic picture of what horsemanship means to me.</p><p>I don't quite know where all of this leaves this blog, to be honest. I have purchased the domain www.mysticalhorsemanship.com, and I'm expecting that will go live when I'm ready to start taking clients for nerve release sessions. And I'm now on Instagram as @mystical.horsemanship. I'll be posting there regularly (like once a week) as I walk through some of the highlights of my horsemanship journey and transition to a professional voice.</p><p>It's a weird feeling to be exploring the idea of mystical (i.e. inspiring a sense of spiritual mystery, awe, and fascination) with respect to horsemanship. I have spent a long time thinking of myself as practical and logical and rational. So all the decisions that I made that didn't fit those categories felt like I was doing something wrong or crazy. When in reality, those decisions were the true parts of me struggling to be heard. It turns out that while I can be practical and logical and rational, I really want to move through life based on my intuition. When I work with horses now, I often completely discard any plan I might have had and work entirely off of feeling. I even managed to do an entire bodywork session with a friend's horse without touching him at all...and still got all the licking and chewing and yawning and relaxing that comes with physical touch. That experience was transformative for me - and possibly for the horse and his owner too!</p><p>This new direction feels very aligned and yet new and scary too. While I had wanted to work with horses professionally earlier in my life, it didn't work out. Instead, I took the path of higher education, getting undergraduate and graduate degrees, followed by a good office job. So being in a space where working with horses (and their people) is now a looming reality feels very transformative, but a little scary too as I think about the things I say and write coming from a professional perspective, instead of just little ole me writing some observations.</p><p>I am planning to leave this blog up for now as I experiment a bit with posting shorter content on IG, and then I'm expecting that I might shift the blog to my business website. I have also taken down the Journey to 100 Miles blog where I wrote about my experiences with Nimo. I may revisit some of those posts in the future, but it is time for me to move on. Nimo's spirit is still with me, though, and I can feel his guidance all the time.</p><p>I want to thank everyone who has showed up to this blog. It has always been comforting for me to learn that there are others out there who have similar experiences and thoughts. I function on my own a lot, and knowing that there are people out there like me has been very healing. I hope to continue to see you as I work my way through this transition. I expect that I still have lots of learning ahead of me, and I will continue to be a student of the horse.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBQINZlSyAlmcY1wJWFWZc3r38aKmKqzWsWiE4hVrCtBpzgaFIfa4lpwXFMuzPCz8hUT-2PZiVqUvX-JdQygzo_5NzwEE9gZ9Fu5XMvL4TZKy7QQZfFbfEK2To2Q-UAisdtHW3vpkC12Yqnfsri5MQ4i_wBgXkiFpuqU6T7YJgflPGamR8aQgUfrhkNzN/s4928/IMGP8580adj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4928" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBQINZlSyAlmcY1wJWFWZc3r38aKmKqzWsWiE4hVrCtBpzgaFIfa4lpwXFMuzPCz8hUT-2PZiVqUvX-JdQygzo_5NzwEE9gZ9Fu5XMvL4TZKy7QQZfFbfEK2To2Q-UAisdtHW3vpkC12Yqnfsri5MQ4i_wBgXkiFpuqU6T7YJgflPGamR8aQgUfrhkNzN/w400-h265/IMGP8580adj.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-57772664602770209062023-06-08T05:45:00.001-07:002023-06-08T05:45:54.290-07:00I'm on a podcast!<p>Hi everyone! Just a quick check-in to let you know that Felicity Davies graciously invited me to be on her podcast, Equestrian Perspective, and our chat is now on Spotify (<a href="https://open.spotify.com/episode/5ysDisQfNylozlWXOqul0k" target="_blank">episode 112</a>). I loved talking with her and being able to share my story in a different format.</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-57915455368224036302023-05-21T06:27:00.000-07:002023-05-21T06:27:01.724-07:00A Pivotal Moment, conclusion<p>I had trouble falling asleep that night just thinking about the session and what we might see in Freya. Would she be completely different? Completely the same? Somewhere in the middle? But once I did fall asleep, I slept all the way through the night until morning, which is something that never happens. Normally I wake up at least twice and then when I wake up, my brain starts going at 100 mph. So I felt pretty good the next day with the first good night's sleep in a long time.<br /></p><p>I had to work a full day so I didn't get out to the barn until well after 5. Freya was waiting at the run-in shed for me, which wasn't unusual. Gemma and I typically bring the horses in for dinner every day, but I run late on Fridays because of my work schedule. Her face was happy and she seemed to feel good when I put the halter on. As I walked her to her stall, I realized that the muscles on her body were moving differently. Her lower neck, her shoulders, and her haunches were all...well...jiggling in a way that seemed different.</p><p>And after I brought Donut in, I noticed something else. There is another mare in the field that becomes absolutely inconsolable whenever we bring Freya and Donut in, so we always bring her in too. Her separation anxiety has been going on for months and had actually been escalating for the past couple of weeks. And yet, that night, she was happily grazing in the field and didn't seem to even notice that Freya and Donut were gone. Why would our session have impacted this other mare? I have absolutely no idea. The only thing I can think of is that maybe something changed in Freya's energy that changed the way the other mare interacted with her.</p><p>As part of the session, Freya had communicated that she needed a couple of days to process what had happened during the session, and Gemma and I actually gave her three days before we did anything other than basic handling and a little brushing. But Gemma noticed immediately that Freya's body felt different when she brushed it because the muscles didn't seem so hard.</p><p>And in case you are wondering if we are imagining it, I have a couple of videos to show you. One is from a recent ride before the Connection Reading and the other one is a few days after the reading. Pay close attention to how Freya's shoulder looks in both videos and you should see the difference.</p><p>Here is the video pre-Connection Reading:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z0xPwLxy4KQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="z0xPwLxy4KQ"></iframe></div><br /><p>Here is the video post-Connection Reading:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vzZ3N1Am5t0" width="320" youtube-src-id="vzZ3N1Am5t0"></iframe></div> <p></p><p>Could something else explain the difference? I'm sure Rational Me could come up with something. Perhaps all the body work that I've been doing finally had some kind of exponential effect that coincidentally appeared the day after the session. But I think it is more likely that the difference is a result of the work we did during the session. Exactly how, I have no idea. But I'm learning that there is more to our existence than our five senses.<br /></p><p>And another interesting thing is that we noticed Freya was acting like she was in a new place when Gemma took her on the first ride post-Connection Reading. You'll see she wasn't in Pillar 1 like in the first video because she was alert and looking around. She wasn't spooky, but she did spend the entire ride struggling a little bit to focus and stopping to look at things, as if she was seeing the farm for the first time, even though she has been living there for almost two years.<br /></p><p>But here is the twist. You may remember that I was really struggling with my grief for Nimo. It was overwhelming at times. About two days after the session, I realized that I hadn't been crying or sad since the session. In fact, when I thought about it, it occurred to me that for the first time in three years, I could think about Nimo without wanting to burst into tears. I could listen to certain songs on my playlist that normally made me feel very sad, and I didn't feel sad anymore. And the more I tuned in to how I felt, the more I realized that my chest felt different. It was like this pressure that had been so constant wasn't there anymore. (And I'm just going to remind you here that the message I got from Freya was that she needed two days to process the session...what if she didn't mean her, but me?)<br /></p><p>And I had a horrible realization. What if the negative energy that Freya had inside her came from me? What if it was the grief that I was feeling about losing my connection with Nimo? It had never, ever occurred to me that my inability to let go of that grief could be causing Freya problems. I had been so focused on making sure it didn't affect Donut, but I never took the same care with Freya. In fact, I was doing lots of things with Freya that I used to do with Nimo, and I always felt so uncomfortable doing them. </p><p>The in-hand work was the worst. Freya would actually have panic attacks when I first started doing in-hand exercises with her. She was able to do much better after I worked with the classical dressage trainer for a few months, but I still had to be careful about how close I stood or walked next to her or she would get incredibly anxious.</p><p>Even under saddle, our progress was fairly limited and never felt quite right. Gemma seemed to do much better with her most of the time, and I always thought it was because Gemma was less intense about what she was asking. But what if it was what Freya was sensing inside me? What if it was the incongruity between the mask I was presenting and the grief I was feeling inside that was making her anxious?</p><p>Thankfully Felicity checked in with me about this time and offered an
alternative to the darker place that my thoughts were going, which was
that while Freya may have been absorbing some of my grief, she had some negative energy that also needed to be
released and the session had helped us both. (Sometimes I forget that everything isn't always all about me - ha, ha!)<br /></p><p>Regardless of the specifics of where the negative energy had come from, the reality is that when I tried an in-hand session with her a few days after our session, it was completely different. There was no anxiety from her. I even leaned my body completely up against her and applied too much pressure at one point. She was completely fine. We weren't necessarily poetry in motion as we were both trying to figure each other out, but our work felt "normal." Like a person and a horse first working with each other and trying to learn each other's language. And I even mentally channeled the "mare collective" energy from the Intuitive Experience that Felicity hosted several days ago, and I got a beautiful trot transition that was smooth and not panicked, no whip or clucking required. Just the mental image.</p><p>Over the course of the next few days, I tried a couple more in-hand sessions with Freya. I even took her outside the round pen, to see what happened in a different location. We went out to a small field behind the big arena. She has worked out there before and is reasonably comfortable there but it is wide open instead of the safer confines of the round pen or even the arena. (And mentally for me too, it feels bit more "risky.") </p><p>And she was great. She walked out there in-hand and we did a couple of laps around the field in each direction. I didn't ask for any more collected or slower work from her; we were just walking and testing to make sure we had some steering. (There is this guidance about working with horses: First, you go with the horse, then the horse goes with you, and then you go together. My instructor and Jean Luc Cornille both give similar advice when starting in-hand work, which is to first go with the horse and then try changing the tone of your body and experimenting with the way you communicate to see when the horse starts listening to you. Once the horse is listening, the work can begin. So my plan was to go with Freya and only give her direction when we needed to make a turn because we didn't have any fences to provide boundaries.) </p><p>As we walked, I got this vision in my head of a beautiful, slow, easy, balanced trot. (Did that vision come from me or Freya? Your guess is as good as mine!) It is, of course, one of the initial goals of the Science of Motion in-hand work to achieve that trot before asking for more advanced movements. Typically it takes awhile to achieve it, especially because I'm definitely not an expert in the technique. And I certainly wouldn't attempt it so soon after starting in-hand work because of course Freya would need time to get used to me and the work. But shortly after the vision came into my head, Freya did it. I don't even know how to describe it, except to say that once you've felt it, you never want to feel anything else. It is smooth and fluid and easy and balanced and yet somehow you also feel the essence and power of the horse coming through. It is not controlled by the reins or generated from a whip, it is because the horse willingly gives it. <br /></p><p>So I am on Cloud 9 because of that work. It is an awesome addition to Freya's rehab process if we can do more of that. And if feels so good to be working on overcoming something that was hard for both of us. <br /></p><p>As I reflect on our Connection Reading, one of the most interesting things to me is that it wasn't focused on healing me, but somehow it did anyway. Horses are often identified as our mirrors. And I suspect Freya was doing a damn fine job of mirroring me, but I was too caught up in my own emotions to realize what she was doing.<br /></p><p>I remember when I first saw her pictures in the auction listing. I was drawn to them in a way that I could not explain and that was not like any other horse I looked at. And I tried valiantly to evaluate other horses, but after looking at over 100 of them, I always came back to her. Even though she was for Gemma, I couldn't shake the connection I felt to her. Rational Me justified it by pointing out the training she had and how it was consistent with what I was looking for, but the reality is that several other horses at the auction could have been just as good, and I never seriously considered them.</p><p>I have always said that I have been so lucky to have such amazing horses during my life, as if that time of being lucky was over. But I suspect it isn't. I suspect that the universe has blessed me with two more special horses, and I feel so grateful to realize that before more years have gone by.</p><p>I don't know what is next for Freya and Donut and Gemma and me, but I'm so excited for it anyway. The CEP course has been a game-changer in more ways than one for me. Not only have I learned simple techniques to help my horses learn basic skills, but I have gained this amazing community of like-minded horsewomen.</p><p>Any of these women could serve as a role model for the younger generation of riders and owners, and I'm beyond thrilled that Gemma was welcomed into the class and had the opportunity to watch as the other students demonstrated what it means to be emotionally resilient. In a world where it seems every issue is fodder for divisiveness and conflict and even the simplest of disagreements degenerates into hatred, it was a privilege to watch other women dealing with sometimes incredible adversity and overcoming it in a very healing way.</p><p>I also had the pleasure of interacting with one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered. Felicity Davies is truly a joy to be around. Her compassion and support is a big part of what makes CEP so special. I also love how she understands what it is like to be confused and struggling to do the best thing for her horses when there is so much conflicting and poorly presented information available. In my opinion, learning from a "master" horseman is overrated. I have spent more time trying to decipher the language of masters than I care to remember. The reality is that if you are learning something, you don't need someone who has an instinctual gift and who has been doing it for 50 years to teach you. Instead, you need someone who knows the challenges you are facing, who can use language that you can understand, who can recognize the types of problems you are likely to have, and who can provide tangible ideas for solutions. </p><p>And perhaps most importantly, you need someone who won't minimize how you feel. After going through CEP, I have become more attuned to all the times that my feelings and thoughts and ideas are minimized by others. It happens most often with professionals like trainers, vets, and farriers, but I think it can happen in any field and in any relationship. Felicity never minimized what someone was feeling. In fact, she encouraged her students to ask questions about why they were feeling a certain way and give value to that feeling. She also gave us ways to respond to our feelings and even to anchor in to feeling good.<br /></p><p>I don't think I can even list all the things that have happened because of CEP. I can't remember all of them all at once! But as a sample, here are "a few:"</p><p>1. I finally finished the equine nutrition course I signed up for about two years ago and never completed. And not only did I finish the course, but I did the work to balance Freya's and Donut's diets. The reason I finished the course is because during the first week of CEP, one of the things Felicity talks about is making sure your horse's diet is in order. I totally knew that, but because it was an item on the checklist, I faithfully completed it.</p><p>2. I have an app on my phone to track all the things for all the horses. I can keep track of when I do bodywork, when I make feed changes, when Gemma rides, horse shows, trimming feet, basically any activity that I do with horses. Now I never have to wonder exactly when I last trimmed the horses' feet or when I last washed Donut's tail. I can see it at a glance. <br /></p><p>3. I seriously love brushing Donut now. What was once a chore is now an enjoyable experience for both of us.<br /></p><p>4. Donut is now evolving into a better mental balance. She still has baby moments, but her last airs above the ground were probably 6-8 weeks ago and even when she is in a more elevated mental state, she is much easier and safer to handle now. I have a couple of tools to use to keep myself safe and that makes me able to handle her more confidently.<br /></p><p>5. Donut's physical balance has improved. Donut was a mess when I started CEP. She couldn't stand in any sort of legitimate balance and her front feet were really toed out. Like seriously not good. I've watched as her toes have started to balance and her front legs no longer look like some kind of deformed duck. That may have resolved on its own as she finished growing, but I suspect the postural work we've been doing has played a key role.</p><p>6. I know that I can load Donut onto a trailer. I still need to work with her a little more to get her self-loading and unloading and used to actually traveling, but I have the tools I need to do that, and I'm not worried about it anymore.</p><p>7. I know how to desensitize my horses to touch, approach, noise, and movement, both up-close and in the distance. And I know how to do it on the ground and under saddle.</p><p>8. I am much more aware of how I hold a lead rope and how I use it. I still have room for improvement, but that's OK, because I have the tools I need to improve.</p><p>9. I am much more aware of how my body language is viewed by horses. Both Freya and Donut are incredibly sensitive to it now. It wasn't that long ago that Donut was almost impossible to move out of my space. In particular, when I would turn a horse out after her, she would crowd the gate. Now, I can move her back with a sound and a little energy. <br /></p><p>10. Donut holds her head down when I take off her halter when I turn her out. She used to jerk her head up when I took the halter off, but now unhaltering is a gentle process that impressed my barn owner when she saw it.</p><p>11. Freya and I are exploring a new relationship, that is less clouded by emotional issues. <br /></p><p>12. Gemma is learning the same skills I am, so she won't have to spend decades of her life searching for answers. And with learning those skills comes an increase her safety. The better she understands how to handle horses, the safer she will be.</p><p>13. I am recognizing that Woo-Woo Me is not a crackpot whose ideas should be viewed with skepticism. I have good intuition and while I don't always understand what it is trying to tell me, my internal thoughts and feelings are valid, and it is OK for me to act on them, even if Rational Me isn't convinced. In fact, I'm beginning to think these two parts of me need to communicate better and maybe even become one...<br /></p><p>14. I can have a connection with Donut and Freya just like I did with Nimo. I am seeing both of them through new eyes, and I love what I see.<br /></p><p>But probably the most important thing I learned is that training a horse isn't so much about the horse as it is about me. It is my knowledge and my confidence and my energy and my intuition that are the key factors. Learning to trust myself and understanding that I can train my horses isn't something I can get from a book or a video or I would have gotten it already. Instead it came from the coaching calls and the support from Felicity and the other students. That support helped me though some challenges, but it also helped me link what I already knew with the new information I was learning in the class, so I could realize that I wasn't as clueless as I thought. I just needed to make some connections and fill in some gaps. And seeing other people going through similar experiences and having the same thoughts and questions and concerns was such a relief. It felt so empowering to be a part of this group.<br /></p><p>While I can't guarantee that anyone who goes through the CEP coaching program will have the same results I did, I will say that I have never seen another program like it (and I have signed up for a lot of training programs through the years). I loved it so much that I'm looking forward to going through Felicity's <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/intuitive-equestrian" target="_blank">Intuitive Equestrian Program</a>. This program will definitely make Woo-Woo Me happy, and I think it is about time that this part of me gets the same consideration that Rational Me gets. I'm still thinking about congruence, and I suspect that having those two parts of me interact in a more balanced way is going to be a critical part of improving myself and my horsemanship skills.</p><p>In the meantime, I'm diving into reading <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tao-Equus-Journey-Healing-Transformation/dp/1577314204/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1XCZJO77K6D6O&keywords=the+tao+of+equus&qid=1684296710&sprefix=the+tao+of+equus%2Caps%2C73&sr=8-1" target="_blank">The Tao of Equus</a> by Linda Kohanov and practicing being congruent in my communication with other people and with my horses. I'll let you know how it goes...:)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLQ3JAoVZWXL_hQ1wOopdIDkBif3pPSiFTWVV1kqGOasbfIgf0CKVgzOiIv10C_v7n2uo-jzCZJ_E-UZ-4sOEAepDrFo_8dzxXWnPwQAwrhW7VZ3kInIxBrvtMa74Pm9eO26_07aAlS6l68j7tINtbLI6iHKuwmaFuHPEUsz7OPuWdtNo9HQlQU7KzA/s4032/IMG_7464.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLQ3JAoVZWXL_hQ1wOopdIDkBif3pPSiFTWVV1kqGOasbfIgf0CKVgzOiIv10C_v7n2uo-jzCZJ_E-UZ-4sOEAepDrFo_8dzxXWnPwQAwrhW7VZ3kInIxBrvtMa74Pm9eO26_07aAlS6l68j7tINtbLI6iHKuwmaFuHPEUsz7OPuWdtNo9HQlQU7KzA/w400-h300/IMG_7464.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freya was feeling playful on this day and she enjoyed running alongside Gemma<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bs2N0xbgzLk6fGqZ35VxqKuE4dqgA9L1ESlAtQXsuT8grvUX5-4bpoMJQG0tolVoAdAsR-6pphUyd32GGQwjKQSjan-FMzfbpLEjhRBxrvF_4KMQ7KunNmUaasouOjvrf76a9wYkTIHqbxGeJ5zKBo57j4-C1Emrl6AryghH2RZRvPLdeE2FXjzbOA/s2993/IMG_7458.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2386" data-original-width="2993" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bs2N0xbgzLk6fGqZ35VxqKuE4dqgA9L1ESlAtQXsuT8grvUX5-4bpoMJQG0tolVoAdAsR-6pphUyd32GGQwjKQSjan-FMzfbpLEjhRBxrvF_4KMQ7KunNmUaasouOjvrf76a9wYkTIHqbxGeJ5zKBo57j4-C1Emrl6AryghH2RZRvPLdeE2FXjzbOA/w400-h319/IMG_7458.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut is always happy to express herself:)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-57219113154370922762023-05-17T15:40:00.000-07:002023-05-17T15:40:57.643-07:00A Pivotal Moment, part 5<p>The <a href="https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/congruent" target="_blank">online Cambridge dictionary</a>
defines the word congruent as: similar to or in agreement with
something, so that the two things can both exist or can be combined
without problems. I've also seen it defined as: in agreement or
harmony. </p><p>A couple of weeks before the end of the <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/CEP" target="_blank">Confident Equestrian Program</a>, I came across <a href="<iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FRedTheMare%2Fposts%2Fpfbid0yDjG2rKWf4kHxRkKjPcHQtvPPsjUMxDNEbrzJmn61jSseUQ6KSKAEmerEwzqX7FLl&show_text=true&width=500" width="500" height="556" style="border:none;overflow:hidden" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; picture-in-picture; web-share"></iframe>" target="_blank">this Facebook post</a>
by The Red Mare. And I sort of felt like I was reading something
really momentous, but I couldn't quite figure out how it was momentous.</p><p>The
post sent me on a little bit of a dive into what congruent means, and I
started thinking about ways in which I was probably incongruent. And
those ways went beyond simply expressing how I was feeling at any given
moment. I started thinking about how congruence (or a lack thereof)
might be present in other parts of my life. And the word just stayed
with me day after day. To the point that I got kind of irritated with
it. I mean, I get it, little voice in my head. I need to work harder
to make sure my outside matches my inside. </p><p>But honestly, how am I
supposed to do that really? I can't just go around telling people I'm
irritated or mad or sad or depressed or whatever. What are they
supposed to do with that? And I just dedicated <a href="https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2023/02/my-horse-is-not-my-therapist.html" target="_blank">an entire post on my blog</a>
back in February to how I'm not going to use my horse as my therapist.
So, little voice in my head, I really need you to back off. I get it.
I will try to be a more authentic person when I can, but that is not an
easy ask. I have literally dedicated over a decade of my life to
learning how to be more diplomatic and have better communication skills. And multiple
people, well, coworkers, have told me how much easier it is to work with
the kinder, gentler me. So I'm not really interested in making people
uncomfortable again. It's less about wanting people to like me and more
about being a better person. Because better people don't just let out whatever is in their brain come out of their mouths, right?</p><p>You,
of course, may remember how I mentioned earlier in this series of posts
that I have a Rational Me and a Woo-Woo Me. You might be tempted to
mention them at this point and gently suggest that those two parts of me
are not necessarily in sync. But you would be rebuffed because I was
too irritated with the little voice in my head nagging at me.</p><p>And you might also remember <a href="https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-wait.html" target="_blank">this post</a>
where I wrote about wanting to make sure the grief I felt about Nimo's
loss didn't taint my future relationship with Donut in the same way that
the loss of the horse I had before Nimo caused me to mourn so deeply that I
took a long time to be open to connecting with Nimo. I really thought that I had
worked hard on managing my grief for Nimo, but then you may remember
that I was sobbing uncontrollably not that long ago on the way to the
barn. So you might be forgiven for pointing out that I might not have
quite accomplished what I so determinedly wrote that I had accomplished.</p><p>I,
on the other hand, was steadfastly ignoring the issue of my situation
with Nimo and intently focused on Freya's emotional issues. I couldn't
fix what was in the past with Nimo, but I was bound and determined to
fix Freya. And so I embarked on a <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/Connection-Reading" target="_blank">Connection Reading</a> with Felicity.</p><p>I
really had no idea what to expect (even though I did read the
description on the website). I don't consider myself a particularly
spiritual person, even though I do have a background in Christianity and
I am fascinated by religion in all of its forms as well as the paranormal.
I've even had a few experiences during my life that I can't explain, and
I am convinced that I have a guardian angel who spends a lot of time
bemoaning my stupidity and wondering when she can get a new assignment.
(Now that I read that back to myself, it totally sounds like I'm a
spiritual person, but I have never thought of myself that way.)<br /></p><p>I
think Felicity is probably the only person on the planet who could have
convinced me to give this type of experience a try, though. I felt
very vulnerable going into it, and worried that I wouldn't respond in
the "right" way.</p><p>But I needn't have worried. Although I don't
know that I can really do justice in describing the experience. The
best I can do is say that my experience was like a guided or facilitated
spiritual connection with the goal of removing negative energy and creating healing. <br /></p><p>We worked through a couple of different modalities and by the end of the session, I felt
really energized and excited about the work that we'd done. Woo-Woo Me
was in heaven and her brain was reeling with the possibilities. But the
real question was, how would Freya feel? Could work that we'd done via
Zoom with a lady in another country really have an impact on a horse
that wasn't even physically present for the session?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIBiaAv_EvTrZN2mGaf6Rga-gMcFDGH5LYSuZZbpyVHnZah6Eo5WDZGsdJXSvYNh8x3oJOumn10RHUZkaeLr1cWwtYJ3U6AsZmZv1vXImTqRw8wvPmLTjqO_4TigWjdFNmo50uwNu_od6mgHkcvia4lmt0A5mTyiZvOvGNfO-LCo4pBxm8m0NV1ZsnvQ/s1904/IMG_7446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1904" data-original-width="1705" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIBiaAv_EvTrZN2mGaf6Rga-gMcFDGH5LYSuZZbpyVHnZah6Eo5WDZGsdJXSvYNh8x3oJOumn10RHUZkaeLr1cWwtYJ3U6AsZmZv1vXImTqRw8wvPmLTjqO_4TigWjdFNmo50uwNu_od6mgHkcvia4lmt0A5mTyiZvOvGNfO-LCo4pBxm8m0NV1ZsnvQ/w359-h400/IMG_7446.jpg" width="359" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-4383007524192202432023-05-16T06:57:00.001-07:002023-05-16T06:57:30.821-07:00A Pivotal Moment, part 4<p>There is no question that I am a huge procrastinator. (I am currently procrastinating about doing laundry by writing this blog post - haha!) I do some of my best, most inspired work when I am closing in on a deadline. But working with horses at that level of intensity is not a great idea. So I really do try not to inflict my tendencies on them.</p><p>But the trailer loading situation with Donut was getting ridiculous. One of the reasons I'd joined the <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/CEP" target="_blank">Confident Equestrian Program</a> was to get some help on trailer loading. Nimo had always loaded. Even when I bought him as a yearling, he loaded in my friend's trailer within a minute or two because he was so naturally curious about what was inside the trailer, he couldn't help himself but go in. And the two horses I'd had previous to Nimo were also great loaders. So I never had to really learn much about trailer loading, except that a lot of people have horses that don't load well, and anytime I had to haul one of those horses, it was a time-consuming and frustrating experience for everyone.</p><p>I didn't want Donut to have bad experiences with the trailer, but after watching several trailer loading tutorials from internationally-recognized trainers, I was still feeling stuck about how to approach it with her. So I never worked on it.</p><p>Even in the CEP class, I skipped watching the trailer loading video for a couple of weeks because I really didn't want to deal with it. But finally, I nagged myself enough that I watched the video. And of course, because the whole class is laid out in a very logical way, the trailer loading steps fit right in with what we'd already been working on. There were also a lot of tips for horses that really struggled with loading to help break down the process more for them. Everything made complete sense to me and didn't seem intimidating at all.</p><p>So one day, I hooked up the trailer and pulled it to the barn so I could work on loading with Donut. I set my expectations pretty low because I wasn't sure how she would view the trailer. Her last experience with it had been almost three years ago when I'd brought her from my friend's house. So that was the day she lost her friends and had a stressful ride and then had to adapt to a new place. I figured there would be some baggage associated with all that, so my goal for the first day was to get her comfortable just hanging around the trailer. And she really had trouble picking up her feet to get in my step-up trailer, so I was worried about that too.</p><p>As it turned out, Donut did not have all the baggage that I thought she did. She also acted a lot like Nimo - she was curious about the trailer and the fun-looking objects inside. So it was probably less than 5 minutes before she had both front feet on the trailer. I ended up doing a little bit of positive reinforcement too. I had never felt comfortable using R+ in my horse training, but because of the work I'd already done for CEP, I knew how to use it more effectively. I think it really helped keep the experience positive for Donut because she does LOVE food! I did three repetitions of asking Donut to load her front feet and back off and then called it good for the day. Because I've got a step-up trailer, it is doubly important that Donut feels comfortable backing off the trailer, and I wanted to make sure she was learning that part of the process. The best thing about how Donut did was that there was a pallet of bricks with plastic blowing in the wind behind her, and as luck would have it, the gravel driveway was being dragged while Donut was getting on the trailer. I thought for sure she would be spooky, but she wasn't. The desensitization work we'd been doing was making a difference!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxet2Cs5eMqbRnklMVaugNmf_0V1KULh8NvogiXNgHOlik9hoXZsrCTo0sQMv_9hciAP-T0FROA7GTIaKkSlQDjmVeqsRCp1S1RWB4bAniZFgqML4DCcOK783_2IE2DCXn3DgeecOCvh0dc7N59OMzFCSmvPA6Eb4QtHEFrwBEWVJtK-lZ8tZL8k80w/s4032/IMG_7540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxet2Cs5eMqbRnklMVaugNmf_0V1KULh8NvogiXNgHOlik9hoXZsrCTo0sQMv_9hciAP-T0FROA7GTIaKkSlQDjmVeqsRCp1S1RWB4bAniZFgqML4DCcOK783_2IE2DCXn3DgeecOCvh0dc7N59OMzFCSmvPA6Eb4QtHEFrwBEWVJtK-lZ8tZL8k80w/w400-h300/IMG_7540.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut must touch all the things with her nose:)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3E8Aq7lO4rZ39vqqV0YXZaOY-obHaq1uYXzj-KMTcJrgynm17gzJ6n-ibRYJTLBWejhOKRWsYBb4C0lPXTAbDUH_bg9mYjR40ymzUFfSCUcE1bJ7XpgrpCF9c_T0XVp25rQmVpfJVNa6kPbbg_tbvJZawM-s8Hqbl-eqrjFNIk6IspkAxXy2IczfeMQ/s4032/IMG_7543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3E8Aq7lO4rZ39vqqV0YXZaOY-obHaq1uYXzj-KMTcJrgynm17gzJ6n-ibRYJTLBWejhOKRWsYBb4C0lPXTAbDUH_bg9mYjR40ymzUFfSCUcE1bJ7XpgrpCF9c_T0XVp25rQmVpfJVNa6kPbbg_tbvJZawM-s8Hqbl-eqrjFNIk6IspkAxXy2IczfeMQ/w300-h400/IMG_7543.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut enjoys a snack after getting two feet on the trailer</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The next day I brought the trailer to the barn for another session. This time, Donut basically loaded herself. We did a couple of repetitions of getting her front feet on and backing off and then she bravely got all the way on the trailer because she really was desperate to check out what was in the trailer. I had a feed pan of alfalfa and carrots for her when she got on and she was quite happy to explore a bit and then eat for a few minutes. And then I backed her off with no trouble. The whole process was probably less than 10 minutes.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCKBMFNn52BMC723MCR9k6I5qrMq2lM8kN9yZuO3uLLOY_GPUp7mslZT4jDVeCN765xE-eMFLpmIc94TGYnFoE8nIYyH_RSXY7aDv2wv9W4kB1JrxSdWgCp9DGTlkeGRVqHSIhud6bcIWzgtrwnigFXfYtTj9jHeDYbuPk15ktZopdDX9NNIZvC0NRQ/s4032/IMG_7549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCKBMFNn52BMC723MCR9k6I5qrMq2lM8kN9yZuO3uLLOY_GPUp7mslZT4jDVeCN765xE-eMFLpmIc94TGYnFoE8nIYyH_RSXY7aDv2wv9W4kB1JrxSdWgCp9DGTlkeGRVqHSIhud6bcIWzgtrwnigFXfYtTj9jHeDYbuPk15ktZopdDX9NNIZvC0NRQ/w300-h400/IMG_7549.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was hard to get Donut's whole body in the picture, but I wanted proof that all four feet were on the trailer!:)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>We also worked on trailer loading with Freya. The me from a few years ago would have been happy with the way Freya loaded. She typically hops right on the trailer. But she seemed to also have some mild anxiety. I've played around with different variables for hauling her over the past year or so and I've discovered that while having a buddy does help a little, her anxiety seems to come most from getting on the trailer to go somewhere. When she gets on to go home, the anxiety seems to be significantly reduced. So I decided that we would have her do the same things Donut does to see if revisiting the basics in a low-key way with no pressure to go anywhere for a show or any activity would help her feel better. </p><p>I also wanted to see if I could slow her down when she loads. Much like other tasks, when you ask her to get on the trailer, she immediately complies and does it quickly. There have been times when I've needed to pause loading or unloading because of something going on and having a horse that can stop mid-process is super helpful and increases the safety of an activity that really does have the potential to go horribly wrong.</p><p>Plus, Gemma needs to learn how to handle Freya on the trailer and keep herself safe. I trusted Freya to remember there was a person on the other end of the lead rope and not do anything too crazy, although the mom in me struggles sometimes when Gemma does horse things because I know all too well how quickly things can get dangerous. But the best way for Gemma to stay safe is for her to get the experience doing things correctly. So I turned Gemma and Freya loose on trailer loading.</p><p>The first sessions were just to get Gemma and Freya working together and to see if Freya could pause before she steps on the trailer. After the second session, she was able to do that, and her anxiety level felt a bit lower as she stood on the trailer, but we definitely had more work to do. (I'll write more about how that is going in a later post.)</p><p>We also worked on reminding Donut about the wash stall. You may remember that water (or even a damp rag) has been difficult for Donut to handle. I have worked with her enough that she was able to get hosed off in the outdoor wash stall and have parts of her hosed off in the indoor wash stall. But I can tell that she still isn't super comfortable with the process, so we basically started from scratch again. I stood at Donut's head and asked Gemma to handle the hose or sponge using the approach and retreat technique. After several sessions, Gemma could rinse, wash, and rinse the bottom of Donut's tail and we could hose off her legs as long as we didn't take too long:) Bathing is definitely going to be a longer-term commitment to get right.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4JfV84oKfmM" width="320" youtube-src-id="4JfV84oKfmM"></iframe></div><br /><p>Gemma wanted to do the same work with Freya, so we used the same process to reintroduce Freya to the outdoor wash stall. She was much more comfortable with it, but Gemma is known for her marathon bath sessions, and I could tell Freya was possibly losing patience with all the bathing. And it finally occurred to me that I could hang a hay bag in the wash stall area for her to munch on. The impact was HUGE! Freya was so much happier and Gemma could take her time. I just helped shape out where we wanted Freya to stand, so she didn't learn to wander around. I also really liked that Freya could be tied to one pole instead of cross-tied. After seeing a post on Facebook about what it means to have slack in a lead rope, I realized that when we cross-tie, there is always pressure on both sides of the halter. There is no way for the horse to get true relief. Whereas with a single rope, it can be tied so that the horse can get complete slack.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BAONCzw1_eBQZO1iPM5_dnN-bG1og7BF7kxaES595ntStYI3-CUXfKkydu1krtCpaM4aYwMKLCc-Dc3WN0nI4WcwHN8wpwEz1pRwhRMdF80NLzY26eBH4oOcKAD8WZCGGNCmi926-qeQjBLelSAARHEDGxeOQ5omFo5S0s9pUHcfv6qf-vjr-cye6Q/s4032/IMG_7620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BAONCzw1_eBQZO1iPM5_dnN-bG1og7BF7kxaES595ntStYI3-CUXfKkydu1krtCpaM4aYwMKLCc-Dc3WN0nI4WcwHN8wpwEz1pRwhRMdF80NLzY26eBH4oOcKAD8WZCGGNCmi926-qeQjBLelSAARHEDGxeOQ5omFo5S0s9pUHcfv6qf-vjr-cye6Q/w400-h300/IMG_7620.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love seeing Freya content!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>In terms of my mental state, I had an experience with an equine professional that really upset me. I'm going to leave the details out because the details are less important than my response. Even in hindsight, I think I was justifiably upset. However, the big problem was that I was so upset that I literally could hardly sleep the night after it happened. I was exhausted and I was bursting into tears constantly, and I couldn't seem to move past the overwhelming feelings that the situation brought out in me. When I posted about it in the group message area, Felicity reached out and gave me an option to try to see if it helped me feel better. Basically she let me vent via voice notes without worrying about what words I was using. I didn't need to be understanding of the other person's point of view. I didn't need to be diplomatic or nice. I could just let out all the stuff that was bothering me.</p><p>Initially, I was skeptical that it would really help. I'd already been in my head so much about it, and I had even talked to/messaged a couple of friends about it. But the voice notes really did work. Felicity took the time to respond and validate how I was feeling and almost immediately I started to feel better. Within a few days, I could talk about what happened with no problem and now that I'm a few weeks out, the whole thing seems like no big deal. The best thing about the situation is that I now feel like I have a new coping strategy in case something similar happens in the future.</p><p>Another big thing that happened this month is that I got myself a new set of brushes. (I will probably do some kind of product review post on them because I love them so much!) These brushes literally changed the way I think about brushing my horse. I used to view it as a necessary chore, but I didn't typically enjoy it or, as it turns out, even know how to do it very well. But I came to love grooming Donut and she loved it too. One day, she had eaten her fill and actually stopped eating for awhile (this horse is literally always eating or sleeping or into something). I took the opportunity to hang out with her in her stall and really get into the grooming. And then I got the idea to use the Bladder Meridian Technique with her. She's never let me do it in the past, but this time she did. I was able to go through both sides of her body and she was so good. She stayed with me and actually stayed quiet and still for at least half an hour after I finished. I have never seen her do that. The barn was busy with activity - horses were going in and out. People were walking around. And for the first time, she didn't need to try to be in the middle of it and constantly looking to see what was happening. She looked like she was processing and actually feeling her body. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ODee45GCMyg" width="320" youtube-src-id="ODee45GCMyg"></iframe></div><br /><p>It was so good to see her this way. It isn't that I want her to constantly check out or keep to herself, but I think it is important for her to be comfortable in her own body without always needing input from other horses or people to stay stable. I know a lot of people who aren't comfortable in their own skin. They struggle anytime they are alone and they have trouble functioning outside of a group. And while I do understand that humans and horses are meant to be social, I also think that we and they need to be able to function comfortably alone too. Even in the wild, horses are by themselves and even choose it. (Recently one of the mares at the Theodore Roosevelt National Park went missing from the herd. Park volunteers feared the worst when they couldn't find her, but after several days, she was located safe and sound with a healthy baby.)</p><p>I'm probably veering off into Kerry Thomas' Herd Dynamics territory, which is worthy of a separate post, but the reality is that horses in a human world need to have certain skills in order to function well and be mentally stable. I don't want Donut and Freya to be anxious if they can't always be in their herd. Their lives require them to be in stalls for a few hours most days. They need to be able to go to an arena by themselves and perform some tasks. They don't need to be Olympic athletes or ride 100 miles in the wilderness alone, but they need to be able to feel comfortable with themselves (or with one other human) for short periods of time.</p><p>I'm probably not articulating this very well, because it's still something I am learning and thinking about. But it's important to me that my horses can be balanced mentally, which means being able to handle alone time without being stressed. Because Donut has struggled with her alone time in the past, I was thrilled to see her able to change gears for a little while.</p><p>And going through that process with her set me on a path of achieving greater mental balance for myself. I didn't quite understand what was happening at the time, but hindsight is giving me some insights. One of the biggest things I miss about being with Nimo is the quietness of his mind and his ability to let me in, so to speak. I could usually tell what he was thinking (or at least I thought I did). And while he did have the occasional moment of extreme alertness or even worry about something, by the time his life was nearing its end, he spent a lot of time in a very quiet state. Not shut down, but aware and listening and present. And I think that is why I found being with him so easy. In a world where people don't tell the truth and everyone is overwhelmed and stressed and busy and I was overwhelmed and stressed and busy, I could find refuge from all the noise with him. And when I rode him, he insisted on absolute mental focus from me and had spent years training me to be present when I rode.</p><p>But that level of connection and focus is not something I have with either Donut or Freya (although the nerve release work with Freya is in the ballpark). And I have been grieving Nimo's loss not only because he isn't here anymore, but because I lost that connection, and I didn't think that I would ever have it again. I thought it was unique to Nimo and me. But as I worked my way through the exercises in CEP, I got an inkling that maybe I could have that connection again.</p><p>As the third anniversary of Nimo's death approached, I was a mess. I felt this extreme grief leaking out of me all the time. I couldn't control it, and sometimes it felt just as fresh as the day he died. I was irritated with everyone and downright pissed off about a few horse-related things. And it occurred to me one day as I drove to the barn sobbing almost uncontrollably that I might need professional help to overcome the grief. I spent some time trying to figure out what kind of professional I might need, but I didn't really reach any conclusions. Plus the idea of being that vulnerable with someone I didn't know seemed like too much.</p><p>Meanwhile I had become convinced that Freya might also be having some emotional issues. As I reflected back on our time with her, I began to wonder if her physical issues could be rooted in an emotional issue. She struggled with anxiety in certain situations and while she was functional, it didn't feel right to me. After bringing it up in the CEP group, Felicity mentioned that a Connection Reading might be one way to explore my concerns. </p><p>I had heard about the Connection Readings before - a few other CEP students had done them and reported positive changes afterward. But even though I was curious, I had been hesitant to ask about doing one for me. And do you know why? Because I was terrified that the only thing that would happen is that I would cry through the whole thing. I was struggling with managing my emotions so much with respect to Nimo's death that I figured any attempt at something more spiritual in nature would send me over an emotional ledge that I couldn't return from. And I just couldn't bear it.</p><p>But when the emotions on the line were Freya's, I could find the strength to do it. So I booked a reading for the day after our last CEP coaching call. And I could never have predicted what happened...</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-10482992544735430602023-05-15T05:24:00.001-07:002023-05-15T05:24:28.722-07:00A Pivotal Moment, part 3<p>The second month of CEP really blew the door off the hinges for me in terms of desensitizing. (Felicity also calls it exposure training, which may be more accurate.) My brain went into overdrive as I started to understand how the "approach and retreat" method works for helping horses to feel comfortable with lots of different things touching them, waving around them, making noise at them, and even being off in the distance. The sky is the limit in terms of the types of things you can use to work with your horse.</p><p>I also discovered that Freya had probably gone through similar training at some point, because she basically just knew how to do it. And Gemma was in absolute heaven because she was able to be successful with Freya almost immediately. You can watch a short video of the two of them below:<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rwGt3XR-0bc" width="320" youtube-src-id="rwGt3XR-0bc"></iframe></div><br /><p>Plus, I had a couple of major breakthroughs with both Donut and Freya. I wrote in my last post about Donut finally learning to stand still. Well, we took that to the next level when I was able to have her stand in Pillar 1 from <a href="https://www.balancethroughmovementmethod.com/" target="_blank">The Balance Through Movement Method</a> for probably about 20 minutes. Near the end of the session, I was able to do one of the nerve release techniques that I had learned for Freya and Donut was able to stay with me, even though I could tell that she was feeling a little uncomfortable. (The technique doesn't involve any force, but I think it creates strange sensations in a horse's body, which is where the discomfort comes from.) This was a huge moment for both of us, because Donut had never let me do any bodywork on her before. Every time I tried, even with a simple technique like the Bladder Meridian Technique from the <a href="https://mastersonmethod.com/" target="_blank">Masterson Method</a>, she would fidget and disengage. Initially I thought it was because she was young and impatient, but as time went on, I started to get concerned that it meant something Not Good was going on in her body. So it was this incredible relief for me to be able to start connecting with her and being able to feel her tension and help her through it.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iBiUlcY8OSmMJ4RykVicQIDPbYQ6Ve3vqonjI1y0zTSRyz36oo6OuS9E0ruDT2N4yC9T6Z46WMBA7T1t8LoqQL9YjBwWZK4zPMNKn6u94kdWdGNXYD1ktBGQbWSBK5cX9MJ8UD3cHnNNTntmlK77OX6kH0HTdvp51ZCP85GgIKQ-GU9bQsVHM7l5pg/s4032/IMG_7374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iBiUlcY8OSmMJ4RykVicQIDPbYQ6Ve3vqonjI1y0zTSRyz36oo6OuS9E0ruDT2N4yC9T6Z46WMBA7T1t8LoqQL9YjBwWZK4zPMNKn6u94kdWdGNXYD1ktBGQbWSBK5cX9MJ8UD3cHnNNTntmlK77OX6kH0HTdvp51ZCP85GgIKQ-GU9bQsVHM7l5pg/w400-h300/IMG_7374.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a photo from our session. In addition to being in a state of disbelief that this is my former busy body of a horse, I noticed how awkwardly Donut was standing. One of the reasons I started BTMM was because I had some concerns about how awkward Donut looked. I'll probably write more about it later, but being able to stand still and accept bodywork was an important step for her.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>For Freya, I had been working pretty diligently on the nerve release techniques that I was learning through 1:1 sessions with one of the BTMM instructors. But we were getting hung up on activating her pectoral muscles. And then one day, the gentlest touch worked, and I could see them "firing." It was really cool to watch and I couldn't contain my joy and relief. I had been putting my heart and soul into rehab work with Freya, but I had gotten to the point where I just wasn't sure we were going to get very far. And the moment I saw those pectoral muscles engage, it felt like this huge weight was lifted off of me. Maybe we could do this. Maybe Freya wasn't going to be broken forever. It's hard to say how much of this success was associated with the nerve release techniques and how much was associated with the CEP course, because the CEP course does have a postural component to it that is based on BTMM. So Gemma and I had been working with Freya on her posture as part of the basic skills we were learning through CEP as well as the BTMM nerve release techniques. Coming at the problem from two angles may have helped us more than if we had just been doing the nerve release work.</p><p>Another thing that we accomplished with Freya was working with the large body clippers. I didn't expect her to have trouble with them because she is great with the smaller clippers. But when I decided to put a trace clip on her, I realized she was not comfortable at all with the noisier body clippers. Luckily, I knew how to help her with that thanks to the CEP work, and it took about 5 minutes before I was clipping her shoulder. </p><p>I also had a little epiphany about using food. Back when I was doing endurance riding with Nimo, I spent pretty much all of our "down time" feeding him. If I was grooming him, he was eating. If I was body clipping, he was eating. If I was trimming his feet, he was eating. If he was standing at the trailer, he was eating. I had learned how important it was for horses to have access to food as much as possible, but also keeping weight on him when he was in serious conditioning work was a challenge. So I was in the habit of making sure he always had some kind of higher-value hay when we were doing standing still-type activities. It had the added benefit of helping him be pretty patient for things that took awhile.<br /></p><p>When I was body clipping Freya, I realized I had been expecting her to just stand still. And she did. But body clipping takes time and it occurred to me that maybe I should do the same thing with her that I did with Nimo. So I set out some of the chopped, bagged hay that I reserve for when the horses come in for dinner, and she happily chowed down on that while I clipped. I tend not to do marathon clipping sessions, preferring to spread the clipping over several days, but there was no reason Freya couldn't eat while I clipped.<br /></p><p>I see a lot of people withhold food from their horses as a way of establishing power over them. Even if it is dinner time at the barn, I will see owners deliberately not feed their horses because they are going to ride them. So the horse has to watch other horses being fed and then gets fidgety and then is punished for fidgeting. It is repulsive behavior. Either get to the barn early enough so you can leave the barn before the feed is put out or wait until your horse gets to eat, even if it is just a portion of the food. I will also see horses standing for 30 minutes or even an hour or more for mane pulling or body clipping or bathing with no food. And while it isn't essential, why can't the horse have a hay net? I mean, when I go to get my hair done or have a pedicure, I get a coffee to drink. It's part of the ritual. I don't need the coffee, but it's nice. And why the hell can't we do nice things for our horses when they do things for us?<br /></p><p>Meanwhile, I was struggling a bit with my mental state. Gemma did a little schooling jumper show with Butters during that time period. It was the first show she'd done in several months, and it was really hard for me to be there. It was hard for Gemma too. The thing about improving my horsemanship skills and really starting to tune into my horses as part of CEP and BTMM work was that I could see even more clearly how much other people do not tune in to their horses. I could see the extreme anxiety that horses had and how they were still asked to perform. I could see how many competitors are still in the Dark Ages when it comes to how they interact with their horses. I even heard one trainer tell a little girl how proud she was of her for showing her pony "who is boss" after a tough round where the pony refused a lot of jumps. A little girl, you guys. Little kids should never hear those words. No one should. But the fact that kids are still being taught that kicking and hitting and pulling on horses shows them who is boss is enough to make me want to walk away from the entire human race. The only thing that saved me from starting to lash out at people was the ability to talk about this feeling during the weekly CEP coaching call. It helped to hear that other people felt the same way about horse showing as I did. That the same things that bothered me bothered other people.</p><p>I don't know what the solution is for the complete mess that the horse world is in. Well, actually I do know the solution. Everyone needs to be better educated on how to handle horses and they need to stop thinking of them as machines that perform at their pleasure. But how to implement that? I don't know. There is more information than ever about options that people have to not act like complete asshats around their horses, and yet the bad behavior seems more widespread than ever. All I can do right now is to keep working on myself. Which is what I did in the third month of the CEP course...<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-62000766316303352202023-05-14T10:46:00.001-07:002023-05-14T10:46:41.028-07:00A Pivotal Moment, part 2<p>I am somehow two people in one. One of these people works very hard to be rational and evidence-based. The other person is woo-woo as all hell. Most of the time, Rational Me is in full force. I like Rational Me. She makes logical decisions based on facts and behaves like a responsible adult. Woo-Woo Me is generally a pain-in-the-ass and makes ridiculous decisions based on weird whiffs of feelings and spends a lot of time being unhappy in what Rational Me considers the Real World.<br /></p><p>When I first started the <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/" target="_blank">Confident Equestrian Program</a>, Woo-Woo Me woke up for a minute. There were some questions on the intake form for the class that were asking about things I had never heard of, and I got kind of curious about. But Rational Me intervened and reminded me that I was in the class to learn basic skills to help Donut be ready for under-saddle work. There was to be no woo-woo nonsense.</p><p>And Rational Me did a great job of paying attention, watching the videos, and doing the homework. Rational Me was highly motivated and committed. But Woo-Woo Me was paying attention too. She was just hanging around in the background, biding her time...</p><p>I spent the first month of the coaching class doing the groundwork exercises in the videos with both Freya and Donut. Gemma did them too and for the most part, the horses did the exercises well. I discovered Donut and I weren't as clueless as I originally thought, and lots of little pieces of information that I had read or seen over the years started coming together with Felicity's explanations. </p><p>The techniques and exercises I was learning in the class were
so blessedly simple and so accessible that my poor overworked brain
finally felt like it could process the information. There was no
ethereal language to decipher or great philosophies to understand in
order to apply the techniques. There were just simple, step by step
instructions, along with troubleshooting guidance.</p><p>As I worked through the exercises, though, one of the biggest realizations that I had was that it just might be OK to be me when I am working with my horses. I have spent so many years - actually decades at this point - trying to emulate other trainers or people that I respect in the horse world. But none of those people are me. Each of them works with horses in their own way that feels best to them. But what feels best to them doesn't always feel best to me. </p><p>One of my biggest discomforts when I watch people work with horses is that I feel like they get bigger or more abrupt than I feel comfortable being. When I behave like that with horses, it feels unnatural to me. Which is not to say that I think it is wrong. I've seen countless horses, including my own, look completely comfortable with these techniques. And I firmly believe that a horse would rather a human be a bit bigger than they need to be, as long as the human is consistent and clear. After all, horses can get pretty big with each other to communicate. But they also communicate in such nuanced ways that they appear to be telepathic.</p><p>The reality is that I am not interested in the bigger communication techniques, except in cases where it might be necessary to establish a clear boundary or the horse is really not getting something and it is important for health or safety reasons that they do get it quickly. After studying the Science of Motion techniques for many years under saddle, it is clear to me that horses can understand humans a lot better than we think they can. They do not need someone windshield-wipering a leg at their side to understand they need to pick up the canter. They can do it with a thought. So if they are that sensitive under saddle, why couldn't they be that sensitive on the ground?</p><p>After going through the videos for several weeks, it occurred to me that there might be hope that I could work with my own horses in ways that felt comfortable to me, even if they didn't seem appropriate to someone else. And I started developing a comfort level with how to shape behavior and responses from my horses. I wasn't feeling like an expert yet, but I could see a clearer link between what I was doing and how the horse was responding. <br /></p><p>I was also enjoying the group coaching calls that we did once a week. There were about 5-6 students regularly in the calls, along with Felicity, and we would each get the opportunity to talk about our struggles and our wins during the previous week. I had posted earlier this year about how I felt I was on a path all by myself, but I was starting to discover that there are others out there who feel the same way I do, who have the same questions, the same struggles, and the same joy about seemingly small wins. And it started to make me realize how much value being in a community can add to my life. <br /></p><p>So Rational Me was basically in heaven. We were doing tangible things like learning how to feed treats properly for positive reinforcement, leading, stopping, backing up, and turning.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsYolKycTg-0_C_mCCCVUFyu-lBz35o0Iydal-P0O4s4xLhIi2D7iMkS8bMvxZ-mp1cZ8Ih3nqSspn6EuPwm2K2WAAtj0-Nd2pFe4q7MC_E4oXEQD-WvIN_LcH-53BjTEL2APxIOv4nz2Z8sfeKtSL_L5aP96sOB8u6UC8-numzoiMewPPgNvCGzWZA/s750/IMG_7279.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsYolKycTg-0_C_mCCCVUFyu-lBz35o0Iydal-P0O4s4xLhIi2D7iMkS8bMvxZ-mp1cZ8Ih3nqSspn6EuPwm2K2WAAtj0-Nd2pFe4q7MC_E4oXEQD-WvIN_LcH-53BjTEL2APxIOv4nz2Z8sfeKtSL_L5aP96sOB8u6UC8-numzoiMewPPgNvCGzWZA/w400-h400/IMG_7279.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut learns to take treats politely<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnXknx7GB_oZNyswH5tKfV-YmDCLoo84Gdn-ftBCp54wZKvVcEyRSLhs2CM_Ak9mShsjnFaHCqYPZsnct7YBSewh-K0sZ2ujP797g4-Diswh1Nr7FIqlzdyalfc1ADOLaoLg2qy9HmmzH_tIkqdJLR0y6Oi6ZXqfReChs7mhoDKOu8Vt5McHsMExPQQ/s750/IMG_7280.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="750" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnXknx7GB_oZNyswH5tKfV-YmDCLoo84Gdn-ftBCp54wZKvVcEyRSLhs2CM_Ak9mShsjnFaHCqYPZsnct7YBSewh-K0sZ2ujP797g4-Diswh1Nr7FIqlzdyalfc1ADOLaoLg2qy9HmmzH_tIkqdJLR0y6Oi6ZXqfReChs7mhoDKOu8Vt5McHsMExPQQ/w400-h400/IMG_7280.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freya already took treats well, but the work we did actually ended up helping her be better in her stall when other horses were around. She started out being quite frustrated about accepting treats when other horses were nearby, but after several weeks, she became much calmer.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>But Woo-Woo Me was tuning in every once in awhile. I had a couple of things happen with the horses that I forgot I was looking for in my attempts to Accomplish All the Things. One happened on a Friday evening when I was at the barn by myself. Gemma comes with me every day except for Fridays because I flat out need time to myself. I work from home and homeschool and do horse things with Gemma every day, which is a lot of time spent with her. And while I love her dearly, I do need time on my own to refresh. So Fridays after work are mine. This particular Friday, I hung out with Freya in her stall for a bit. Instead of the fairly intensive nerve release work that I'd been doing almost daily for the previous two weeks, I brushed her and petted her. She ended up in a deeply relaxed mental state, and I felt pretty darn good too. It was a critical reminder that I don't have horses because I want to ride them or compete with them; I have them because I love their very nature. I love being with them. And I particularly love being with a horse that has a quiet, balanced mind.</p><p>Which brings me to the second thing. After about four weeks of working diligently on Standing Still, and having some minor progress, Donut finally Stood Still. Here is what I wrote about the session for the class:</p><p></p><blockquote>After a bit of a rough start to our session because Donut got worried about something, we had an amazing Standing Still time! For several minutes, Donut stood still and I was even able to stand 6 feet away from her. She didn't try to mouth me or chew on the lead rope and she must have yawned 6-7 times! I have NEVER seen her yawn before! She was standing kind of awkwardly and not always with her head down, but she was truly quiet and starting to process a little. Yay!</blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_LXw5qMKlotNQxmI-YUnLPt433TLGBGo5IQZDd0hVPFfgPyMtgOxZBZHVE0vD8GCegFNLJrnmg77Vc9Nm_UmNyiwA2MzpIUvYim0pDQZSKka5bQGE1D4joHHJRhd5iKvXgJTsj1avB4kuzDkT7vs4oXDUb-eoKjKz2Gh5fuXmhPXMNNH-xJii4YDog/s4032/IMG_7326.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_LXw5qMKlotNQxmI-YUnLPt433TLGBGo5IQZDd0hVPFfgPyMtgOxZBZHVE0vD8GCegFNLJrnmg77Vc9Nm_UmNyiwA2MzpIUvYim0pDQZSKka5bQGE1D4joHHJRhd5iKvXgJTsj1avB4kuzDkT7vs4oXDUb-eoKjKz2Gh5fuXmhPXMNNH-xJii4YDog/w300-h400/IMG_7326.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut stands still!!!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>Donut has always had very busy mind and body. She is constantly chewing on things, bumping things with her nose, and moving around, and I can literally feel the activity coming from her brain. And it stresses me out. To the point that I didn't really enjoy being around her that much, in all honesty. I mean, I love her dearly, but all that busyness was hard for me to tolerate for more than a few minutes at a time. So when we had these few minutes where it was clear that she could actually quiet her mind, it was a game changer for me. For the first time, it occurred to me that I didn't have another 25+ years of all that activity to try to manage or tolerate. It wasn't that Donut was just a busy horse by nature, it was that she didn't know how to be quiet. It's possible that many horses learn that quietness by being in a herd and for some reason Donut hadn't. Or maybe the way I was handling her was encouraging her mind to be active instead of quiet. But I had no idea that it was something that could be taught. Learning that was such a huge light bulb moment for me. And I also started to ask myself some vague questions about what a horse should feel like.<br /></p><p>Woo-Woo Me started whispering that maybe the connection that I had with Nimo wasn't as unique as I thought it was. Maybe it was attainable with Donut and Freya too. I just had to approach it differently than I had with Nimo. Thankfully, I still had two more months of the class to go, because I was beginning to understand that this class wasn't going to be just about teaching horses basic skills...<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-70446782580214811512023-05-13T08:13:00.004-07:002023-05-13T08:13:43.074-07:00A Pivotal Moment, part 1<p>I think we all have them at some points in our lives. That moment where a romantic partner or friend or family member says or does something that can't be unsaid or undone and we know that the relationship will not be the same going forward. Or that decision we make that can't be unmade that changes the course of our life.</p><p>Sometimes these moments are obvious, like a heated argument or signing a contract to buy a house or realizing that the pregnancy test is positive. We know in the moment that things will be different moving forward. But sometimes they are only apparent in hindsight.</p><p>As my mind skips through the memories of my life, I can see and feel those pivotal moments almost as clearly as when they happened. They stick with me and occasionally pop into my mind to remind me of why I am where I am.</p><p>But last November I had no idea that I was making a choice that would forever change the way I viewed myself and my relationship with horses. I was coming out of a 3-ish month long set of lessons with a classical dressage trainer. I'd really enjoyed working with her via Zoom almost every week. I'd signed up for the lessons with her because I was in the process of troubleshooting why Freya kept struggling with contact. (I think I last really wrote about my progress in this post: <a href="https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2022/08/down-rabbit-hole.html" target="_blank">https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2022/08/down-rabbit-hole.html</a>) I was also exploring <a href="https://www.balancethroughmovementmethod.com/" target="_blank">The Balance Through Movement Method</a>, which was still in its infancy in terms of sharing the techniques with the public.</p><p>But the reality was that despite months of work where I felt like I had made some progress with Freya, I was still fundamentally unhappy with something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It still felt like we were doing a lot of forward and backward in our work. And by the beginning of December, she was really not right physically again and she had a bit of a mental breakdown over what appeared to be nothing. I'm not saying it actually was nothing, just that I couldn't see it. And if I couldn't see what was causing Freya's concern, I couldn't try to fix it.</p><p>The other issue was Donut. I had done next to nothing with her after the summer. I think the 1:1 BTMM I did in August was the last significant thing I'd done with her. And while the 1:1 gave me some information to think about, it also didn't get me where I thought I wanted to go.</p><p>And I was not really in a good place mentally. I was physically and mentally exhausted from the horse show season with Gemma and from my desperate attempts to help Freya feel better. I was miserable because I hadn't progressed with Donut, and I had this idea that I was supposed to be starting her under saddle at some point in the near future and neither of us were anywhere near ready. I was missing Nimo more than ever, and I had come to the conclusion that I didn't know crap about horses, that I had no idea what I was doing, that none of the professionals I was working with could help me, and that I had no business owning horses or trying to train or rehab them. But I had these two horses that were my responsibility and a daughter who was horse crazy and would never forgive me if I told her I was selling either horse. So somehow I needed to find a way to keep going.<br /></p><p>I remember feeling something similar with Nimo at one point. There was a time when he was about 8 when I thought I was going to have to sell him. The weekly lessons I was doing with a dressage instructor were brutal. We weren't advancing even after years and years of work. Nimo was unsafe to ride outside the arena, and I felt like I couldn't ride at all. I hated going to the barn and I didn't want to ride or even think that I could ride unless I had constant direction from my instructor. I couldn't see my way forward. And it almost destroyed me because horses were my life. Always. What was I supposed to do if I didn't have a horse?<br /></p><p>And then there was this moment in a lesson I was having where my instructor was telling me I needed to do another damn circle. And I didn't want to do another damn circle. We'd been doing endless circles and useless walk-trot transitions that never got any better. And we couldn't even canter. And I felt this overwhelming rage toward my instructor. I remember turning Nimo toward him and raising my dressage whip as if I was going to attack him. I stopped myself before I did anything, but it was an eye-opening moment for me, and I realized I had to make a change.</p><p>I subsequently fired my instructor (that is seriously one of the most empowering things I have ever done), moved to a new barn, and started taking responsibility for my own riding. I got Jane Savoie's Happy Horse program and a little later started working with another instructor. I didn't work with her that long before realizing she wasn't going to work out, and I moved Nimo to a new barn again and finally found the instructor that I still have today.</p><p>Nothing quite as dramatic happened last November. I was just doing my usual constant search for classes I could take to gain insight into what was going on in Freya's body, but also longing for a class that could help me with Donut. I felt like there were gaps in her training and the way we communicated and despite trying several methods, nothing felt right.<br /></p><p>I first signed up for a body work class and started trying those techniques with Freya. It wasn't an inexpensive class, and I resigned myself to doing more bodywork with Freya and continuing to let Donut sit.</p><p>Then I came across this lady name Felicity Davies and her <a href="https://www.confidentequestrianprogram.com/" target="_blank">Confident Equestrian Program</a>. I really liked what I was seeing, and she offered an online version plus a 12-week coaching program. At the time, the coaching program wasn't scheduled until February, and I was being my typical self and in a hurry to Get Started. Plus, I'd just spent a bunch of money on the bodywork class for Freya and Christmas was coming up, so financially it made sense to save money and do the online-only class. And why would I need someone to coach me, anyway? I had sort of had enough of people telling me what to do and then minimizing my feelings when I felt something wasn't going the way I wanted it to.<br /></p><p>So I signed up and watched the first couple of videos. And then the stress of the holidays kicked in and my motivation died.</p><p>By January, I was thinking there was a good possibility that CEP was going to be another expensive class laying in the trash bin with all the other expensive classes I had purchased over the years and never finished. Then as January was drawing to a close, I saw a post from Felicity that said there was still room in her coaching class for CEP. And a little voice in my head told me that maybe I should do that. Maybe I did need a coach after all. Just someone to help keep me accountable so I would actually finish the class. So I sent an email asking if I could upgrade from the online class to the coaching class. And Felicity was so nice when she said I could. I immediately felt welcomed and like I was on the right path. In fact, I felt so relieved that I actually started watching the online videos in advance of the coaching class getting started.</p><p>And that started my journey down a path I could never have anticipated...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2kf6gzImCcNO7kbe1zf3BzcuhLAWLw1FRhSJwDYJP3VkMN__1Dd9t6F66mUyMXTHlhWImY2JZ2ioyFRxvOIO_cSoG8LLhYs-Emzv9Se2UJ38-km3h_LwqHORDgL2gU730EOgzlHJgnse_e0tZiXEAkv7gryJNCRMv_bI7vG7vw14U_bzuu_Q72ShiQ/s2400/7C2D2A1D-31B0-4C03-AC7D-E76CCC8F9B89crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2kf6gzImCcNO7kbe1zf3BzcuhLAWLw1FRhSJwDYJP3VkMN__1Dd9t6F66mUyMXTHlhWImY2JZ2ioyFRxvOIO_cSoG8LLhYs-Emzv9Se2UJ38-km3h_LwqHORDgL2gU730EOgzlHJgnse_e0tZiXEAkv7gryJNCRMv_bI7vG7vw14U_bzuu_Q72ShiQ/w300-h400/7C2D2A1D-31B0-4C03-AC7D-E76CCC8F9B89crop.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The reason I keep trying...<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-14827495335731330382023-02-19T09:04:00.001-08:002023-02-19T09:17:34.950-08:00My Horse Is Not My Therapist<p>I think we've all seen the t-shirts that say, "My horse is my therapist." I know people who wear them. And there was a time in my life when I would have worn a t-shirt like that too. <br /></p><p>I have absolutely used my horses as my therapists over the years. The most significant example I can think of was when I used Nimo to help me overcome post-partum depression. You see, I didn't tell anyone at the time that I was not feeling right. I kept everything to myself, although my husband knew something was wrong. He just didn't know what. Instead of talking to a person, or seeking medical help, I turned to my horse. Looking back, I'm not sure I was capable of anything else. I would have done exactly what I did again, but that doesn't stop me from wishing that it could have been different.</p><p>I will say that it worked. I pushed myself to the point of mental and physical exhaustion over and over and over as I learned the ropes of endurance riding and conditioned my completely unsuitable horse to tackle the tough trails we have here in Virginia. I nearly died more than once because of poor decision-making and also just because sometimes riding horses is dangerous.</p><p>But all of that changed my brain and allowed me to find my way through the sadness and anger and grief. And because Nimo was who he was, it worked. He hung in there with me and learned to function better. While I don't necessarily condone pushing horses too far outside of their comfort zones, the reality is that before I started really focusing on endurance riding, Nimo didn't move that well in the arena and he was spooky and dangerous to ride outside of the arena. After several years of training for endurance, he moved better and he was so safe to ride, I felt comfortable riding by myself on rugged trails with no cell phone service. And we were able to pay forward at least a few of the times we had babysitters on the trail by being the sane, quiet ones for other green horses.</p><p>So in the end, it all worked out OK. I was mentally healthier and so was Nimo. But it could easily have gone horribly wrong. There were times when I thought it would. Although, I don't think we should discount the process of returning to mental health. I am not an expert at all, but I have discovered that sometimes I have to go through hell and come out the other side in order to make progress. Most of my biggest learning moments have come shortly after I felt so frustrated and angry that I wanted to quit. So there is value in the struggle. But sometimes the struggle can be so great that people don't come out the other side.</p><p>The reality is, though, that Nimo shouldn't have had to help me as much as he did. He shouldn't have been the sole reason I clung to life. To put that burden on a horse is, well, I don't have a word for what it is. I guess the closest I can come is unethical.</p><p>Yet we do put that burden on horses all the time. Not only do we use our riding and other horse activities as ways to diffuse our own stress, but we actually employ horses for professional therapy.</p><p>I should say that I used to be a very avid supporter of equine-assisted therapy. It wasn't until a friend donated her horse to a program that I started to have reservations. I watched a very vibrant, balanced, good horse slowly eroded physically until she was chronically lame (repeated veterinary exams never identified the problem), was eventually diagnosed with an unspecified neurological problem, and then fell through a pasture fence and over an embankment. The fall broke her pelvis and she was euthanized 45 minutes later. This whole process happened over the course of about 18 months.<br /></p><p>I had known this horse for probably close to 15 years. I had ridden her regularly when Nimo was too young to ride and sporadically after that. I helped take care of her when my friend was traveling or needed help. My daughter rode her. She was part of my extended family, and her death shocked me to my core. It made me wonder if her life might have gone differently if she'd never been used as a therapy horse.</p><p>Then, back in the spring of 2021, I attended a Masterson Method clinic. I posted about my initial thoughts in <a href="https://astudentofthehorse.blogspot.com/2021/05/masterson-method-clinic.html" target="_blank">this post</a>. The clinic was for using the Masterson Method on therapy horses and it was held at a therapy barn. I didn't realize the focus of the clinic going into it, and I found myself not feeling very good about it afterwards. That experience added to my level of discomfort about using horses for therapy.</p><p>Since then, I keep reading about how horses have a significant level of mirror neurons. This is a quick read to give you an introduction to mirror neurons if you haven't been bombarded with it already: <a href="https://www.equineconnectioncounseling.com/blog/brains-relationships-and-horses" target="_blank">https://www.equineconnectioncounseling.com/blog/brains-relationships-and-horses</a>. In particular, the author writes, "All those mirror neurons enable horses to empathize even more than
people do. In counseling, the horse can pick up on emotions that human
clients and human counselors might not be aware of yet. It also means
that humans and horses can engage in social relationships on a
neurological level; although facial expressions and language might be
different, the horse’s and human’s brains can respond to each other and
build a relationship."</p><p>So this is some pretty significant stuff. The idea that two different species can communicate on a neurological level is mind-blowing (pun intended - haha!). And it helps explain at least some of what I've been doing in my Science of Motion work. The work taps into the neurological connection that people and horses can have, which allows the horse and rider to move beyond obedience to aids and into a world of true back-and-forth communication which is occurring for the primary purpose of helping the horse carry a rider in a way that ensures the horse's soundness. I think this level of communication is also what The Balance Through Movement Method explores. (And I'm sure there are other methodologies that consider the benefit of mirror neurons too - I just don't have experience with them.)</p><p>BUT, if horses are so able to empathize with humans and pick up on emotions that the humans aren't even aware they have, what does that mean if horses are working with humans who may not have their best interests at heart or humans who are trauma victims or humans who can't communicate very well because of neurological deficits? And the horses have to absorb it all. They are like Deanna Troi in Star Trek: TNG. She has the ability to feel thoughts and emotions and sometimes that ability almost overwhelms her at times. Over time, she learns to set boundaries and manage what she feels, so she doesn't spend every waking minute feeling everything that everyone else feels.<br /></p><p>Unlike a TV character, though, horses are part of the real world, where everything doesn't always work out in the end. What about the therapy horses? Or even just the average horse? What happens to them over time as they feel the constant bombardment of human emotions with no one to help them manage what they are feeling?</p><p>I think from an ethical perspective, we have to start having this conversation about what we ask horses to be exposed to and take in on a regular basis. We all know from working with horses that they can sense our emotions and some of them will react more than others. The ones who react the least are often considered the best riding horses and probably the best therapy horses. But are these less reactive horses truly mentally healthy? Or are they shutting down in a desperate attempt to tune out the constant barrage of human emotions? The ones we often make no attempt to control. Maybe the less reactive horses are just better able to naturally figure out how to set up boundaries, like Deanna Troi. Or maybe they can process what they feel better than other horses. Or maybe they are screaming inside. The reality is that we don't know.</p><p>But we should know. How many of us would feel comfortable using another person to absorb all of our emotions every day? I hope that most of us wouldn't. I hope that we would understand that it isn't fair to ask someone to be exposed to that level of emotion. That we would expect that person to have breaks from us or need their own space or have their own life and hobbies to help them mentally support themselves.</p><p>But it isn't just mental. We also ask therapy horses, and often other horses, to support riders who have poor physical coordination. It's easy for us to see the damage that can be done to an average riding horse whose rider does little to improve their own balance. What about when horses are ridden daily by people who simply can't improve their balance to the point of a good dressage rider?</p><p>My friend's horse who died was a very stoic mare. She rarely got reactive about anything. And because of her lack of reactivity, she was the horse of choice for the most challenging kids. The kids who were nonverbal and whose bodies were constantly in motion and out of balance. These kids would cause extreme reactivity in other therapy horses, but not my friend's horse. So she supported these kids several times a week. And within 18 months, she was dead.</p><p>That is a steep price to pay for therapy. We have got to do better, not just for therapy horses, but for our personal horses. We need to acknowledge that horses do have this amazing ability, and we need to commit to not taking advantage of it to the detriment of the horse.</p><p>Mark Rashid is fond of saying that our minds should be like still water when we work with our horses. And I see that sentiment echoed in other top trainers as well. These trainers don't bring their emotional baggage to their horses. In fact, they make a special effort to train their minds through meditation and other mental exercises so that when they are working with a horse, the horse feels nothing from them except what is relevant to the work they are doing. What a relief that must be after having to constantly sort through random human emotions that they can't understand.</p><p>It also reminds me of Nimo. You see, he worked very hard to train me. If I lost my focus on the work we were doing, he usually stopped dead. If I got too out of balance, he stopped dead. By the time his life ended, I could easily keep my focus on him for a whole ride of 1-2 hours (he cut me some slack on the longer trail rides sometimes:)). My balance was significantly improved, and it was very rare for him to stop on me. I wonder if other horses do that too and we think of it as disobedience or poor training.</p><p>I know that equine-assisted therapy is a popular thing these days. And I know that a lot of people in that world consider the horse's massive amount of mirror neurons to be a benefit to the humans who are assisted in that therapy. What I want to encourage is that we look for ways to support horses in this field. They probably have needs that go beyond a "normal" horse and we don't have a good grasp of what those might be. We need to start figuring that out. At a minimum, though, I would think that having sessions with a good trainer who does have a mind like still water and good balance in the saddle would probably help a lot to recalibrate the horses in between therapy sessions. I suspect each horse might be a little different, but maybe a good starting point is for each therapy session the horse does, they get another session that is focused on them with a capable professional. These horses need mental and physical support to help them do their jobs. </p><p>I would also suggest that maybe therapy horses don't do that job for a long time. (I would also suggest this for lesson horses, which is a whole other can of worms...) Being a therapy horse shouldn't be the place horses go to retire. They should go for a year or two and then be placed in a stable and supportive home to thank them for their incredible service.</p><p>Finally, I would like to suggest that the rest of us look at ways to stop using our horses as our therapists. Let's find ways to be mindful and aware of ourselves and leave our emotional baggage at home. <br /></p><p>We are so lucky to live in a time when we don't require the brute labor of a horse just to eek out our survival. Instead, we have the luxury of interacting with these amazing creatures in a way that can honor their nature. So let's figure out what that looks like.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21PiPOWx5ZJFouxLvSM-78k2BfI8_AL7-tAJugcjCUoLu71xs7uDEHs73CSOW8ipy8U8Pl0JBqX2Phltq3JFFNMsUOsdfSTKnY70TfuPttG71RyFamHspBpYl0atAtdBwP5gcC35t9kgOvy-UFqHRmd9EjHvX6xDBvUGahf00_tURLEjb81Uyp0jEhQ/s4032/IMG_9127.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21PiPOWx5ZJFouxLvSM-78k2BfI8_AL7-tAJugcjCUoLu71xs7uDEHs73CSOW8ipy8U8Pl0JBqX2Phltq3JFFNMsUOsdfSTKnY70TfuPttG71RyFamHspBpYl0atAtdBwP5gcC35t9kgOvy-UFqHRmd9EjHvX6xDBvUGahf00_tURLEjb81Uyp0jEhQ/w300-h400/IMG_9127.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken about a year before he died, this picture shows my 5-year-old daughter putting a halter on Nimo to bring him in for grooming. He was always quiet and patient with her.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-56519940289195747402023-01-23T06:46:00.001-08:002023-01-23T06:46:55.151-08:00Why don't you just put shoes on her?<p>If only I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me why I don't just put shoes on Freya, I would be a wealthy woman!</p><p>Before I go down this particular rabbit hole, let me clarify how I feel about shoes. I don't like them. I have had shoes on my horses in the past, and I never found that they improved my horse's feet. In fact, they are probably the reason that I lost the horse I had before Nimo. I have watched horse after horse in various boarding barns gradually lose the optimal structure of their feet the longer they wear shoes. I see toes that are too long and heels that are underrun and hooves that are simply too high and contracted heels and atrophied frogs and chronic thrush and all sorts of deformities. I listen to the stories about how the horse just can't seem to keep shoes on, and I've spent a not insignificant amount of time helping people look for lost shoes in the pasture and praying that my horse doesn't step on a horseshoe nail from said lost shoe.</p><p>All that said, I also see a lot of those same problems with barefoot horses. So obviously part of the problem isn't the shoes, it is the way the shoes are applied or the length of time between trims and resets. The farrier controls part of that equation, but the owner also influences the timing.</p><p>I also recognize that there are medical reasons for why a horse would wear shoes. Navicular, laminitis, surgery, and other physical issues can create serious problems for horses that shoes may be able to help with, given a competent farrier and vet.</p><p>So it isn't that I think all shoes should be banned or that anyone who puts shoes on their horse is an idiot. I just think that the way they are typically used doesn't actually do what people says it does in a lot of cases. And I think that too many people become farriers without proper training and continuing education. I can't tell you the amount of BS I have heard come out of farriers' mouths. But I also know that there are plenty of competent, educated farriers who work hard to improve their skills and take their craft very seriously. So this isn't meant to be a farrier-bashing post.</p><p>In Freya's case, I know why people ask me why I don't just put shoes on her. She struggles to move soundly without hoof protection. The biggest game changer in our care of her was when I put hoof boots on her at the recommendation of a farrier I consulted with last August. I felt incredibly embarrassed once I'd put the boots on her, because it was immediately obvious how much better she moved.</p><p>You may remember that when I bought her, she had front shoes on. I almost didn't buy her for that reason because I really didn't want to try to deal with shoes on a horse again. Also, the shoes had been on for so long that her hoof angle was significantly distorted and the sole had grown so much that it filled in the space between the shoe. When I had her shoes pulled, the farrier probably trimmed about a half inch of sole and revealed a blackened area underneath. It was not pleasant. He expected me to say that I wanted shoes put back on, but I knew I couldn't put shoes back on those feet in the condition they were in or I'd just be perpetuating the problems she already had. And I did not then and do not now have regular access to a farrier that I consider to be competent at shoeing a horse.</p><p>Freya was sound for a while after the shoes were pulled and I felt comfortable not putting them back on because her previous owner had said they hadn't been on that long (maybe a year) and they weren't put on to address soreness. But she developed a case of central sulcus thrush in all four feet a few months later. I didn't realize how serious it was until it was at first because it appeared as thin heel cracks when the environment was dry. Unfortunately, it was quite advanced and Freya was quite sore before I figured it out, and it took about 5 months to resolve the infection. Treating for 14 days with the cow mastitis antibiotic Today and following up with daily treatments of No Thrush was what finally worked after I tried an assortment of recommended treatments, including White Lightening and Pete Ramey's goo.</p><p>After the infection cleared, she never moved quite right. For several months I chalked it up to her not having great balance under saddle and having some dysfunctional movement. But I was not happy with the angles on her feet, particularly the fronts, and it was clear she was struggling under saddle. I had made a lot of progress trimming them myself, but in all honesty, I wasn't a competent farrier either, so I reached out to a farrier I trusted to get a remote consultation. That was an eye-opening process. I learned a lot about how to take pictures of hooves and how easy it is to create the appearance of distortion or minimize distortion inadvertently. (If you want to start learning about how to take pictures of horse's hooves, check out this article: <a href="https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/why-do-photos-lie-and-how-not-to-get-misled" target="_blank">https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/why-do-photos-lie-and-how-not-to-get-misled</a> and this one: <a href="https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/how-to-document-images-and-radiographs-for-successful-hoof-care-and-promote-soundness-in-horses" target="_blank">https://www.theequinedocumentalist.com/post/how-to-document-images-and-radiographs-for-successful-hoof-care-and-promote-soundness-in-horses</a>.)</p><p>Here is an example of one hoof that I took pictures of for the consultation. By the time I was done doing pictures of all four feet, I felt like I was lost in the Bermuda Triangle with no sense of direction. I think I even managed to somehow get the right and left front legs mixed up and mislabeled despite my best efforts. It was a very humbling experience.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJEIksNK9mmUbaIWv62168IySAB53P5iEq5seh_FidZeEeD16qvwjzGuVKfjAof1JHjiyxoB0fHsfY_iQnvZMk8N_nWvA-DKG6VTmjMyjo6S6_OeXOqefvmum7pCDd4M1cPwBiN2zNQbjOIlmLfwSO115vLS18Xfg__oJ4tQP-6UHpYKnWlJ6CxjRvw/s2500/IMG_5958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1322" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJEIksNK9mmUbaIWv62168IySAB53P5iEq5seh_FidZeEeD16qvwjzGuVKfjAof1JHjiyxoB0fHsfY_iQnvZMk8N_nWvA-DKG6VTmjMyjo6S6_OeXOqefvmum7pCDd4M1cPwBiN2zNQbjOIlmLfwSO115vLS18Xfg__oJ4tQP-6UHpYKnWlJ6CxjRvw/w211-h400/IMG_5958.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnYmxXdjN4lVCSFe2NPKhW6euKYliCVPA8ozya-PuSMi8Oef_tHMZVbe3Amv8VaS2sLrshfFu-Jk4Tye9_hDsiIa6jCl5gD_z2d8IDjl7SYouTb2Pn9sEDCxK1T4IH_OghhLaiuSKXymoMpXCP2rlZqOc5nQhpQbm7-XlUvWxGdaDqz2hu2LL-6T2IQ/s2151/IMG_5957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2151" data-original-width="1537" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnYmxXdjN4lVCSFe2NPKhW6euKYliCVPA8ozya-PuSMi8Oef_tHMZVbe3Amv8VaS2sLrshfFu-Jk4Tye9_hDsiIa6jCl5gD_z2d8IDjl7SYouTb2Pn9sEDCxK1T4IH_OghhLaiuSKXymoMpXCP2rlZqOc5nQhpQbm7-XlUvWxGdaDqz2hu2LL-6T2IQ/w286-h400/IMG_5957.jpg" width="286" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHl_tVFeVVgQdqWjDAZlI4D3gmHl6lU6RltwB6PSdAQspZTCHxeI3_DgmUdd3ve-XF7hqiVqnDsnClIhUKf6pwVUQYY4EZqfXCDFUxCY8c64LuZjK45m5Ltj148tX62tTs_gxXUg4HmtbsbUyIzp433YU-pF84kwEOp9Zgj24u9wZgBckl3Z5O0CgriQ/s2263/IMG_5953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1461" data-original-width="2263" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHl_tVFeVVgQdqWjDAZlI4D3gmHl6lU6RltwB6PSdAQspZTCHxeI3_DgmUdd3ve-XF7hqiVqnDsnClIhUKf6pwVUQYY4EZqfXCDFUxCY8c64LuZjK45m5Ltj148tX62tTs_gxXUg4HmtbsbUyIzp433YU-pF84kwEOp9Zgj24u9wZgBckl3Z5O0CgriQ/w400-h259/IMG_5953.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3lxKuMG0w-AI0Bp3zGKUWjo_8Y96izDezslHqrexkuUXz-JQJbRn8OmjGh2jBLXo3FrZBPw1RjuY-KM0F0rlnPuIVMSQZxYlFkeA00OL7OnSCAl9OT2_kXpWBdhi7BLmxzTisnmNqQxk05dhFNt06LnrPhfDigXOWF8V_KlVCn_TF4fPsVpM3do6CA/s1987/IMG_5952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1664" data-original-width="1987" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq3lxKuMG0w-AI0Bp3zGKUWjo_8Y96izDezslHqrexkuUXz-JQJbRn8OmjGh2jBLXo3FrZBPw1RjuY-KM0F0rlnPuIVMSQZxYlFkeA00OL7OnSCAl9OT2_kXpWBdhi7BLmxzTisnmNqQxk05dhFNt06LnrPhfDigXOWF8V_KlVCn_TF4fPsVpM3do6CA/w400-h335/IMG_5952.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I learned that my trimming was not bad, but there were a few improvements I could make, like trimming her bars more frequently, leaving a little more vertical wall, particularly at the heels to address her NPA, and more assertively dressing the distortion of the hoof. The farrier also recommended hoof boots for her front feet. </p><p>And I thought the farrier was a nutter. I was like, this mare lives in a grass paddock and spends her days in a well-bedded stall. When she is ridden, she walks a short distance over a smooth bluestone parking area and then works in sand. How could she possibly need hoof boots? I mean, hoof boots are to provide protection from hard or rocky ground, right?</p><p>But I did happen to have a set of Easyboot Epics that I had bought for her a year before. Because when she first started to move with discomfort, I thought she might need hoof boots. But when I discovered she had thrush, I figured the infection was causing the discomfort and I never used the boots. (You guys! I could seriously smack my old self in the head!!!)</p><p>Anyway, since I had paid for the consultation, I dutifully dragged the hoof boots out of storage and put them on. And proceeded to be blown away by how much more comfortable Freya was. Instead of mincing steps, she was taking big strides. Instead of short-striding behind, she was almost tracking up. I definitely had to eat a lot of crow that day, and I've spent no small amount of time beating myself up for letting my endurance-colored glasses influence how I cared for Freya.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyOablCw0iZpjEcUSEmxM8wXnIowkS6lchsuappwGMygCYRlIdN0u2b-GraBoU9CDf9blNO5mounI6RHmHKbw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p>And shortly after adding the hoof boots, I added pads to the boots based on a recommendation from another farrier that I didn't realize I knew. Well, actually I knew her from my endurance days. We'd become virtual friends over time, and I knew she trimmed her own horse's feet, but I didn't know that she was an actual farrier who specializes in teaching people how to trim their horse's feet. She travels quite a bit and even works with vets to help them overcome their archaic treatments for navicular and laminitis cases that often make things worse instead of better. She has even rehabbed her own horse that she rescued when the horse had a severe case of laminitis, resulting in a coffin bone that had penetrated the sole. The mare now has great feet and happily goes for miles out on rugged mountain rides. She wears hoof boots for rides, but is otherwise barefoot.</p><p>Thankfully, she decided to take pity on me and provided quite a bit of guidance as I entered the world of booting a horse that really needs hoof protection from more than just rocks. I'm still learning, and my next step is to learn how to stealth the boots so Gemma can show in disciplines where hoof boots are not allowed (I mean, why? Shoes are allowed, so why wouldn't hoof boots?)</p><p>As for why I don't put shoes on Freya, there are a few reasons. One, I don't have access to a farrier that I trust to put the shoes on properly. It's hard to believe that I can't find such a farrier in northern Virginia, because it is major horse country, but few farriers are taking new clients these days, and I question whether any farrier would be willing to give me as much control as I want over Freya's feet. Two, her angles are still not right, so she needs frequent trimming (like every 2 weeks) to keep her hooves as balanced as possible while I whittle away at the returning the correct angle to her foot without taking too much off. I need to bring her toe back a bit more, but she also has thin soles, so I'm trying to take what I can without making her uncomfortable. Three, her heels are still contracted and her frogs are still atrophied (on her front feet, not so much her hind feet, which were spared the incorrect shoeing practices), so she remains prone to thrush. This year, we caught it sooner and treated more aggressively faster, but she still got sore. Because of the frog atrophy, she would need pads if she were shod, but if she wears pads with shoes, I can't treat for thrush (unless she gets a screw on plate, which is really not practical).</p><p>I am considering the possibility of using one of the Easycare hoof boots or shoes as a glue-on once we can get out of thrush season and the ground is drier to see if there is a positive impact for her wearing hoof protection 24/7. The trick is to find a way to glue it on so it isn't necessarily set for a 6-week cycle and I can get it off after, say 2-3 weeks, without causing a lot of damage to the hoof wall to keep up with her trimming needs. I really wish the Megasus Horserunners hoof boots had made it past the kick-starter phase, because those would be perfect for what I need. Those hoof boots worked by gluing on tabs to the horse's hoof (sort of like the new <a href="https://www.easycareinc.com/easyshoe/EasyShoe-Versa-Grip-Octo.asp" target="_blank">EasyShoe Versa Grip Octo</a>) but you could click the bottom part on and take it off at will. </p><p>I have tried leaving Freya's hoof boots on overnight during turnout to see if she benefits, but the wet Virginia clay acts like lubricant and the boots end up twisting a little and Freya is not happy in them. So I could potentially leave the boots on if it was dry, but I think a better solution would be some kind of temporary glue-ons where I could either use pads or do a pour-in pad.</p><p>So anyway, the saga continues as I work to find the best solution for Freya using the resources I have available to me. And her feet aren't the only piece of her story. I have spent the past several months doing a deep dive into classical French dressage, the Balance Through Movement Method, Science of Motion, bodywork techniques like the Masterson Method and Tami Elkayam's work, plus therapies like red-light therapy and magnets. I wish I could tell you how the story ends, but Freya is definitely still a work in progress:)</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-11966436196290285392023-01-13T16:36:00.002-08:002023-01-13T16:36:56.304-08:00A Lonely Road<p>It feels like a hundred years since I last posted. I haven't written because my head was so full of new information, of connections that I was making, that I just couldn't piece it all together. Now, of course, I have no idea where to begin to describe it all. So I think I'm just going to pick up where I am, and maybe the rest of it will work its way in somehow.</p><p>I follow Amy Skinner Horsemanship on Facebook. I like her page because she often brings together ideas from multiple sources, rather than marketing her own brand of horsemanship. Not that there is anything wrong with having a brand or a methodology, but I find that participating requires an almost cultlike following. And I have trouble with commitment...So I like Amy's page because she brings in a diversity of ideas. I don't always agree with them, but I typically find them thought-provoking.</p><p>She recently posted a poll asking how important community is to your success. She asks, "If you found the 'one path to rule them all' but your community was not supportive, how likely would you be to continue and succeed in this path? How likely would you be to switch to another style of horsemanship if your community was active in it?"</p><p>I responded to her poll by saying, "Having a support system, even if it is just a few people, is essential, I think. Doing right by your horse is a pretty lonely road these days."</p><p>I'm not sure that actually answers her questions, really. A support system is a little different than a community, and I didn't address whether I would switch to another style of horsemanship if my community was active in it. At the time, I hadn't really given it as much thought as I should have. But like all my really good comebacks, my response has come days later - ha, ha!</p><p>For me, the reality is that I won't switch to another style of horsemanship even if my community was active in it. For one thing, I don't really have a community that is committed to one style of horsemanship. I have friends who do a lot of different things with horses, from hunters to dressage to endurance to trail riding to "just" riding to having horses but not riding at all. But they are all over the place when it comes to methodology. Some use a marketed technique, but most of them use different techniques to fit the situation. A lot of those techniques are outdated based on what science is showing us about horses, but I know as well as anyone else that changing the way you do something can be challenging, even when the evidence supports the change.</p><p>And for another thing, I've learned through hard experience that doing what the people around me are doing is a surefire way to screw up my horse. The thing about interacting with horses is that every combination of handler and horse is unique. Just like every marriage is unique and every parent-child relationship is unique and every best friend to best friend relationship is unique. There are techniques that often work for many horse-human relationships, but none that I know of that work for everyone.</p><p>The problem, of course, is that as humas, we are social, and we are sort of programmed to want to do things with others and be like others and learn from others. So if a person is going to go outside that framework, things start to get a bit uncomfortable. It is flat out easier to follow the group and do the same things that others do. You can commiserate together when things don't go well and celebrate the successes when things do go well.</p><p>If you aren't in a community, it becomes almost impossible to talk about anything that you do with horses. Everything is so controversial these days, from blanketing to shoeing to saddle fit to bits to training methods. And people can be quite intolerant of differences.</p><p>I'll give a recent example. I happen to use a Baucher bit or a variation of it for all my bridles. I use Mark Rashid's Rockin' S snaffle for a western style bridle, a Kimberwicke on the snaffle setting for a hunter bridle, a Myler snaffle with hooks when I want to experiment with a tongue-relief mouthpiece, and even an actual Baucher for a dressage bridle. Part of the reason I use all these different bits is because different disciplines have different rules about which bits are legal. And in the case of Donut, I use a Kimberwicke because I haven't been able to find a Baucher bit in the size I need with the mouthpiece that I want to use for her mouth, and I want to wait until she is done growing before I decide if I need to have a custom Baucher made for her. </p><p>I like the Baucher style bit because of the stability it offers. But I overheard an equine professional loudly disparaging people who use Baucher bits because, according to her, these people are uneducated about the Baucher and think that they should use it because it is a leverage bit or because it is trendy (I had no idea using the Baucher was trendy). She doesn't believe these people could possibly be using it because they have tried a variety of bits and determined that the Baucher is actually the best bit for their horse.</p><p>So that is kind of a crappy thing to say. Out of all the people I know who use Baucher bits, 100% of them use it because they understand it offers stability and they have compared it to at least one other bit and determined that their horse went better in it than other bits. Their use of the bit had nothing to do with wanting more leverage in a bit (and there are plenty of people who will argue that a Baucher is not a leverage bit...) and everything to do with wanting to improve their horse's experience with the bit. That isn't uneducated. That is responsible horsemanship.</p><p>But when something as simple as the choice of a bit causes so much intolerance, where do we go in terms of supporting each other? And for less confident or less advanced riders, this kind of disparagement creates a huge problem. </p><p>I think that I should be clear that I don't judge anyone for wanting to have a community to be a part of. While it can come with its own frustrations, caring for and riding horses is a pretty complex process. It only makes sense to be part of a larger community to share ideas and to learn.</p><p>The problem for me is that communities tend to be intolerant of differences and often expect the kind of loyalty that only a Golden Retriever is capable of. So I've chosen the lonely road. It means that most of the time, people look at me like I have two heads when I'm expounding on something exciting that I learned in a bodywork class or trying to regurgitate what I discovered in a podcast I listened to. And when it comes to my riding, well, even my own child thinks I'm a nutter most of the time. After all, who wants to spend a half hour trying to get their horse to walk as slowly as possible when the conventional method is to ask for as much impulsion as possible? Slowly walking is not even in the same ballpark as jumping when it comes to the Fun-o-meter.</p><p>But for reasons that I hope will become clear if I can ever get my thoughts together enough to write more blog posts, it is the nuances of communicating with the horse that have become incredibly exciting to me. Feeling a subtle shift in the horse's body is more meaningful to me than jumping a 3-foot jump. Executing a whiff of a half-pass is more energizing that a gallop across a field because I know that the movement is helping the horse be better balanced.</p><p>To be clear, though, I am not condemning those who choose to jump or gallop their horses. Jumping and galloping have their place and all of us are taking different journeys. I happen to be in a particular place now. It is a place I have been working toward for years, but I haven't always been on this path, and I may not always be on this path.</p><p>And while I don't have a community, I do have a support system. I have people that I can talk to about hoof care and different people I can talk to about riding and still other people I can talk to about feeding and blanketing and turnout. It's what works for me, and it enables me to follow that lonely road to search out the best for my horses.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNXNL2m90t6q4pb5AERZkfRtcfQko6nN_Lx4Tp9kho5KLPpZZ9HBOJh2OhxJtPpbio3jlTlSa1-l-nHh2zNPlBa3iLF2hhBCdQR9ax5RQZaWVIf1ans4Eu7FkvLPTvdcB-4d6e4bjKj1m9n6fo0YrpSY7ldijtp92xPlIlHeNBSVRaRODIKZa1QOdWg/s1920/2019%2001%2006%20SRSP%20River_Moment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNXNL2m90t6q4pb5AERZkfRtcfQko6nN_Lx4Tp9kho5KLPpZZ9HBOJh2OhxJtPpbio3jlTlSa1-l-nHh2zNPlBa3iLF2hhBCdQR9ax5RQZaWVIf1ans4Eu7FkvLPTvdcB-4d6e4bjKj1m9n6fo0YrpSY7ldijtp92xPlIlHeNBSVRaRODIKZa1QOdWg/w640-h360/2019%2001%2006%20SRSP%20River_Moment.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-7056917565517850962022-08-22T07:57:00.001-07:002022-08-22T08:02:44.609-07:00Down a rabbit hole...<p>I can't believe it's been over two months since my last post. I actually have a post already written that I just need to touch up, but I have been feeling overwhelmed and writing wasn't something my brain could do until about 10 this morning.</p><p>My overwhelm has been due to wrapping up one year of homeschooling and starting another plus all the horse shows Gemma has been going to and the lack of any free weekends and actually starting to take care of my own body instead of wishing that I had the time to do it. </p><p>But my brain has also been struggling because I sent it down a rabbit hole. More than one really. I have known since we got Freya that at some point I was going to learn something from her. And she hasn't disappointed. First, she sent me on a learning experience about how thrush can infect the frog and cause deep cracks in the heel. I now know how serious such an infection is and the devastation it can cause. I also know how long it can take to get rid of and how dedicated a person needs to be to treatment in order to resolve it. (If you don't already have a treatment that works for your horse, I can recommend <a href="https://fouroaksproducts.com/product/no-thrush/" target="_blank">No Thrush</a> without hesitation. The powder formula was a lifesaver when we were trying to treat the infection through the winter in below freezing temps and all the other highly-recommended treatments were frozen or difficult to manage.)</p><p>Next, she sent me on a path to learn why she was struggling so much with accepting contact. Was it a training gap? Were we using different aids than she was used to? Were we asking for contact incorrectly? Was there a physical issue? </p><p>I have dedicated the last several months to investigating. I now have a working theory, but it will take time to know if I'm right or if it is something else. In the process, though, I went down a rabbit hole that I don't think I can ever come back from. If you happen to feel open-minded right now, I encourage you to check out <a href="https://www.wildmagicllc.com/traveling-horse-witch" target="_blank">The Traveling Horse Witch</a>. I first found out about her from a friend who suggested I might be interested in what she had to say. I can't remember when she sent the information to me, but it was months and months ago, and I never found the time to look at it. But then one day I did, and I started to have a sneaking suspicion that my life with horses would never be the same again.</p><p>I joined the Masterclass, which is an online Facebook group with lots of content from Celeste-Leilani Lazaris. I will say that the way the information is organized and presented isn't a great fit with the way that I tend to learn, so I struggled a bit to understand what I was seeing. I still haven't gone through all the content. Instead, I set up a 1:1 distance session with an instructor who is approved to teach the Balance Through Movement Method (BTMM). My session is scheduled for later today, and I'm going to be working with Donut. (I couldn't wait to write this post until after that session. My brain is so full of information that I needed a brain dump to clear space before I learn more.)</p><p>Why Donut and not Freya? Mostly because while I was going down this rabbit hole, I was also going down another rabbit hole, and I actually started a program with a different instructor for Freya. (More on that in another post - I'm actually taking lots of videos for that one to document our progress.) That program is helping her and me, but I know in the end, I'm going to have to go through BTMM with Freya. </p><p>So I needed a different horse to start BTMM, and Donut got elected. I'm trying to get her ready for under saddle work, and one thing I noticed is that she really struggles with her balance when she is connected to me. Out in the field, she moves like a dream, and she is obviously athletic and coordinated. But on the lunge or even just walking on the lead rope, I see lots of signs of lack of balance and coordination. After my initial sessions working on Science of Motion, well, let's just say my instincts are telling me I need to add something more. There is no way I can get on her if she can't walk a balanced circle on the lunge. So she needs help too.</p><p>Plus, it turns out that Donut and Freya might have exactly the same problem - a pinched nerve aka nerve impingement. Here is a picture of Freya's shoulder:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilIKHbkVfmJxocv58XLGXurZ4NaF4bJW4U76SeX4A4Hx9BUFEXUcujR39tcQJdz1ggt9-lBv1NvOqrY7CgCZn8of40vpi3ndEKdvVGITGfPT6x1jxNpUgHws_1IIusjC6qmLaXYTAhtBzUrzNwpLFzKBMLwvgamct5H0eCSLE6eaV8eQ1olBF4Nrc8g/s2100/IMG_5777.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1575" data-original-width="2100" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilIKHbkVfmJxocv58XLGXurZ4NaF4bJW4U76SeX4A4Hx9BUFEXUcujR39tcQJdz1ggt9-lBv1NvOqrY7CgCZn8of40vpi3ndEKdvVGITGfPT6x1jxNpUgHws_1IIusjC6qmLaXYTAhtBzUrzNwpLFzKBMLwvgamct5H0eCSLE6eaV8eQ1olBF4Nrc8g/w400-h300/IMG_5777.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Hopefully, you can see what looks like a line where the muscle is less developed versus more developed. (Her other shoulder looks similar.) According to my BTMM Masterclass, this line indicates a nerve impingement. How and when did it happen? I don't know. I looked through all my pictures of Freya and unfortunately not all the pictures provide the best angle or resolution to know for sure. I can confirm that the line was present last September, about 3 months after we bought her. If I was a betting woman, I would say she had it when we bought her. It would explain why her previous owner said she was having trouble jumping over two feet. It would explain why her owner thought she was "short-striding" and put shoes on her front feet.</p><p>However, it may also have been caused by the poor shoeing job that Freya came with which distorted the angles significantly on her front hooves. Or it could have been a pasture frolic gone wrong. Or something else. Just like people can get pinched nerves, so can horses. (I did not know this until yesterday, so I'm still processing and learning.)</p><p>The idea that Freya has been living with a nerve impingement since September at the latest or even for years makes my heart hurt. And there are lots of other things that are making my heart hurt right now too. I don't even know how to put all of them into words yet. But over time, I hope that I can.</p><p>The good news is that the work I recently began doing with her with another instructor is probably helping. The even better news is that there are other techniques I can use that will probably help too. And the best news is that there may be a clinic I can take Freya to coming up in the next couple of months where the traveling horse witch herself may be able to get her hands on Freya and manually resolve the nerve impingement if I can't do it before then.</p><p>One of the most interesting things to me, though, is that Donut has a very similar line on both of her shoulders. Again, I have no idea when the line developed. But in Donut's case, she has done very little true work, so her issue was likely caused out in the field, or it may be the result of lack of proper development of her thoracic sling. Or, when I got her, her hooves had had very little care, and she had very long toes...just like Freya did. So maybe poor hoof balance led to the issue.</p><p>I also checked Star and Butters and neither of them have this line on their shoulders. So the great news is that neither of them have this particular problem. Although I'm willing to bet that they have plenty of other issues that I will uncover as my depth of knowledge grows.</p><p>So I have my work cut out for me. Four horses that probably need more in-depth work than I ever could have imagined. But more than that, I'm shifting in the way that I am interacting with my horses. </p><p>I had a lesson on Star about a week ago. On one level, it was a great lesson. I pushed Star to achieve a level of collection that was probably the most collected she has ever been in her life. We were so close to piaffe at one point. I could feel the balance in her body shift, but she didn't quite have the coordination in her back yet. We played with collected canter. In our previous lesson, we worked on trot half-pass.</p><p>But I didn't feel good about myself when the lesson was over. I couldn't and can't shake the feeling that I pushed Star too far. I asked too much. I didn't give her the right prep. I worked her too long. I didn't advocate enough for her. I took advantage of her giving nature. I betrayed her trust in me and she forgave me like it was nothing. And I know that I can never do it again.</p><p>I don't care if I never get another collected step on a horse. I'm not sure I care if I ever ride again, unless I can feel good about the interaction. I'm not faulting either my instructor or the Science of Motion methodology. My instructor has dedicated much of her life to helping horses that need help and she has been successful at it. The SOM methodology has done the same. This is me. I once told someone that riding a horse is giving a piece of your soul to the horse and asking for a piece of theirs in return. Not everyone feels that way. Obviously, or we wouldn't have the trainwreck that high-level dressage is. And I can't change the way other people feel. But I can be true to myself.</p><p>Somewhere over the years, I have evolved. The evolution hasn't been sudden. It's been seeping into my life in bits and pieces. I started questioning techniques. I started looking for gentler ways to accomplish something. I started asking if what I was looking for was even worth getting.</p><p>But my last lesson with Star was the tipping point. I can't go back. I can only go forward. I don't know what that means for me and Donut. I don't know what that means for the work I will do with other horses. I am in this new land, but it is a land full of hope and excitement.</p><p>I hope you'll join me as I take my next step...</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-35512187711771242012022-05-09T09:27:00.002-07:002022-05-09T09:27:54.518-07:00It'a Show Season! (part 1)<p>After the craziness of the show season last year, I have been dreading the start of the season for this year. It isn't so much that I don't want Gemma to show, it's that the shows really suck up a lot of time. The practicing, the clipping, the grooming, the bathing, and sometimes the driving. Plus the actual time for the show. And buying the snacks. And making sure all the show clothes for rider and horse are washed and ready to go and in the truck. (Gemma will never let me forget the time we forgot her boots at home. It worked out OK because my husband could bring them in time, but she refuses to allow me any responsibility associated with her boots. Apparently, it was an unforgivable sin...LOL!)</p><p>Thankfully, Gemma has gotten better and better about knowing what needs to be done and doing as much of it as she can by herself. At the grand ole age of 9, she can wash clothes, pack snacks, and do most of the grooming/bathing stuff. Which is awesome, but I still need to be there for everything. And I've gotten so possessive of my time that I had trouble figuring out how to mentally prepare for the season this year. (My biggest fantasy is now to have a single day when I don't have to do something based on someone else's schedule.)<br /></p><p>As it happens, time stops for no person, so show season started regardless of whether I was ready. On April 3, I found myself at the first dressage show of the season. Gemma was not as prepared as I would have liked, having had little time to practice the tests because the arena at the barn was always set for jumps. (I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Dear Hunter Riders, instead of jumping your horse every single ride, why don't you try the occasional 20 meter circle? I promise neither you nor your horse will die from boredom, and it might actually help you learn to balance as you turn from one line to the next...) </p><p>But she was determined to do both Intro B and C tests without me calling them for her. Last year, she memorized Intro B pretty quickly, and it became her favorite test. She also did do Intro C for at least a couple of shows (my memory is fuzzy), but I always called the test for her. This year, though, she wanted to let go of the crutch.<br /></p><p>So she diligently recited the test at every opportunity and practiced it with just herself in the living room and the barn aisle. The day before the show, we got the dressage letters set up and ran through the tests quickly on the horse, and while her transitions weren't as clean as they could be, she did have the tests memorized.</p><p>Gemma decided that she would show Star for the first show and then she plans to show a little pony named Butters (more about her later) and then hopefully Freya later this year. Star and Gemma did well, earning good scores. The main comment from the judge was that the pair needs more energy, but that is a common comment, so I wasn't too fussed about that. I'm pretty sure that a horse has to actually be flying before a dressage judge thinks it has enough energy:) I thought Star did well with her walk and trot and just needed a bit of help on one of her canter circles. There were a few other wobbles, but nothing that can't be worked on for the next show.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHZwZYB2l5sIlrRwX7wPOqJSVRHl1BM9hISNgpcIg154LcwwTiqO1XBMoqR8TC2u_kcMFHae4IFk0RgaUMzQyG2x662JQKWmM1_Vk8BmMphscmJCHSdNZ91ZABRHS5cklN0WTbDgXBTSSHelncclyNx3Q9jXgo9WhzfJwjQZx0z91JGYv_Kqecz_TdQ/s706/CGAO5345%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="706" data-original-width="706" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHZwZYB2l5sIlrRwX7wPOqJSVRHl1BM9hISNgpcIg154LcwwTiqO1XBMoqR8TC2u_kcMFHae4IFk0RgaUMzQyG2x662JQKWmM1_Vk8BmMphscmJCHSdNZ91ZABRHS5cklN0WTbDgXBTSSHelncclyNx3Q9jXgo9WhzfJwjQZx0z91JGYv_Kqecz_TdQ/w400-h400/CGAO5345%5B1%5D.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite things about Star is her ears. They are such a great indicator of how she is doing. If they are relaxed and floppy, all is well.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C2v7jvKrFP4hsnl33P5_0wrFFtVY_UcdRqOmUOQid3tuiiyi2thg0l2cUuBtkUEmRODs_kSpAqotT3uwc6ZLwWmX54gkAXS6H00QPWR47hEBTsoZRWCrcbb_aVCtc7kfpdEbdLYl9JQGYmSzH1Qn91WHB6qTRHX49omAozpJlzbo9FF--qAZM74G5Q/s1440/FOLG4203%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1C2v7jvKrFP4hsnl33P5_0wrFFtVY_UcdRqOmUOQid3tuiiyi2thg0l2cUuBtkUEmRODs_kSpAqotT3uwc6ZLwWmX54gkAXS6H00QPWR47hEBTsoZRWCrcbb_aVCtc7kfpdEbdLYl9JQGYmSzH1Qn91WHB6qTRHX49omAozpJlzbo9FF--qAZM74G5Q/w400-h400/FOLG4203%5B1%5D.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>The next weekend was the first hunter show of the season. I had been seriously stressing for over a week about this one. The way the show was being run was changing a bit, and I wasn't sure how things would work. And Gemma would be moving up a division to Short Stirrup. Last year, she showed in Pre-Short Stirrup, and as traumatizing as it was for me to watch 7 - 15 young kids on spunky ponies aimlessly wander around the arena at the walk and trot, the idea that Gemma would be in an arena with slightly older kids on slightly better behaved ponies WHILE CANTERING was causing me heart palpitations.</p><p>Plus, Gemma had decided to add another class to the mix. She wanted to show a little pony named Butters in Equitation on the Flat. I'm not sure if I've posted about Butters before, although she may have made an appearance in some videos of Donut out in the field. She belongs to the barn and is a lesson pony. Gemma had been riding her for maybe a year before riding Star. And she was a nice pony, but kind of small and I figured Gemma had sort of outgrown her.</p><p>Over the winter, though, I found out she was going to be put up for sale. She was just a little too much for the beginner lesson kids, and the decision was made that she would be a better fit for either a different type of lesson program or maybe a more advanced little kid. Gemma helped with the sale video. And I was sad. I love Butters. She is delightful. I was going to miss her. I contemplated if I could buy her and swing board for a third horse (no, no, no!) and tried to think if I had time to teach her to pull a cart because she is too small for me to ride at 11.2 hands (no, no, no!). And then I had an idea...an awful idea...no wait, that is the Grinch. Sorry. It really was a good idea.</p><p>I asked Gemma's instructor if Gemma could ride Butters a couple of times a week and maybe start taking lessons on her again to see if riding with a more advanced kid could help. I remembered that when Butters had first come to the barn, the kids had some difficulty riding her. I think she was rusty and needed some time under saddle. And what happened is basically the more she was ridden, the better she got. Until she was pretty reliable. But over time, the types of kids riding and the instructors changed, and Butters didn't get used as much. And she started to need a more assertive rider.<br /></p><p>I'm pretty sure Butters is the kind of horse (well, pony) that just needs regular riding to stay tuned up. Nimo was the same way. With some horses, you can leave them out in the pasture and then get back on and the horse picks up where it left off. Star is like that. I can ride her once a month and she is the same horse. But most horses do need regular work. So my theory was that if Gemma rode Butters regularly, Butters would "remember" what she needed to do without needing so much help from her riders.</p><p>Unlike many of my ideas that take on the status of "crackpot" in hindsight, this one worked out pretty well. More time with Gemma really paid off and then Butters was able to start working for the beginner level kids a little better. And the barn decided to keep her:) Yay for me! (Because this was really all about the fact that I just love that little pony and couldn't bear to see her go...)</p><p>Anyway, Gemma really started having fun with her. Butters is a bit more forward than Star and she will zoom around the arena if you ask her. (Star does not zoom - she considers it to be undignified.) So Gemma decided that it would be fun if she could show both Star and Butters at the hunter show. Yep, that sounds like it won't be any extra work at all...sigh...</p><p>And there was an added complication that another little girl would be showing Star in Pre-Short and a little girl would be showing Butters in Pre-Short. Also, Gemma had no idea what Equitation on the Flat was, and neither did I. Although, I admit that I assumed it was simply a W/T/C flat class with riders judged on equitation, just like every other blessed class at the hunter show that doesn't involve jumps. (I concluded last year that there are really just two classes at hunter shows - flat classes and jumping classes - and that the show just comes up with an endless permutation of ages and experience levels to generate different divisions to slowly suck my life away.)</p><p>So on show day, we would be coordinating two horses with two other riders for four classes that Gemma had never done before. What could possibly go wrong?</p><p>As it turned out. Nothing went wrong. I'm not kidding. I've never seen anything like it. Gemma handled the pre-show grooming and prep for Star and someone else handled Butters. On show day, we got there early and Gemma and the other little girl riding Star worked together to get her tacked up. Both Star and Butters did their little riders proud in Pre-Short. Even the instructor who works with the kids was impressed. She had never seen Star or Butters show because she is fairly new to the lesson program. But on show day, both Star and Butters brought their A-games and did really well. Star moved out so well that her rider actually had to ask her to slow down a bit. And Butters was a rock star, earning a Reserve Champion in her division. I was in happy shock. It was surprisingly rewarding to watch those kids show on horses that Gemma and I have worked with and do well.</p><p>Then Gemma was up on Star for her Short Stirrup Division. As if things aren't confusing enough, there are two Short Stirrup Divisions. One is judged on the equitation of the rider and the other judged on the horse's way of going. Gemma was in the equitation division because her riding is pretty good and the timing with the other division that Star was competing in worked best. So she would have one walk/trot flat class, one walk/trot/canter flat class, and one class over fences with a course of four jumps. </p><p>I wasn't concerned in the slightest about Gemma's or Star's ability. I was, however, concerned, because there were 15 competitors in the division, which meant 15 young kids cantering around the arena with varying degrees of skill. I will note that usually this division is usually a bit smaller, so I wasn't expecting it to be so big. It's possible that I was growing gray hairs just waiting to watch the first class.</p><p>Star continued to be her motivated self and she did the walk/trot class really well. Then the walk/trot/canter class was on. For some reason, the judge did not realize that there was a parent (me) hyperventilating next to the arena while she had the class canter endlessly. Like laps endlessly. Longer than any other class I've seen. Just before someone needed to medicate me, the cantering stopped, and the class wrapped up. Again, Gemma and Star did great. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CO363fBICcIntVBuno5C9zQkg1RiD0q9r0qnfmuTQkzaIEIC6X7bwSQfE5CqzBXfWYzmCNY5mXMKlJKhO3aOZH0_UBZtAbLJ1x2sl5_gWR1y_ZFlg1K5ELF-u5IB9VTuOfXi6XQHowyMxqvSSxjkpi6MoENmGZ-dS7ETiW--CCJ0AZ0oJQlyJ9V65g/s4032/IMG_5398%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CO363fBICcIntVBuno5C9zQkg1RiD0q9r0qnfmuTQkzaIEIC6X7bwSQfE5CqzBXfWYzmCNY5mXMKlJKhO3aOZH0_UBZtAbLJ1x2sl5_gWR1y_ZFlg1K5ELF-u5IB9VTuOfXi6XQHowyMxqvSSxjkpi6MoENmGZ-dS7ETiW--CCJ0AZ0oJQlyJ9V65g/w300-h400/IMG_5398%5B1%5D.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Finally, it was time for the over fences class. Gemma had decided to canter the fences, which were probably 15" cross rails with flowerbox fillers. She did have the option to trot, but she felt Star would do better at the canter. Her starting circle was a little rough and they missed their lead change at the end, but overall, it was fine. Star cantered the jumps and was quiet and basically the perfect antidote to the stress I'd been having about the W/T/C class. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCDpQvTCfLO84QP2NkjMjPGhUiQRUB6_shaMUJXZLlF5EmWC9xXjmbfk_VC42qYewNZFYVFFlSilGZYdireUKdGChmIi7PkfO8GyBjOI2YhOShiZ3FgY3Ta1KDlr5qc5Sin9D2JmnB2jGBef5bJbhy2k8lEAaZ3bsGYZMXgAEalS--X2WGPnYy5_xng/s2443/IMG_5416%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2443" data-original-width="1832" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCDpQvTCfLO84QP2NkjMjPGhUiQRUB6_shaMUJXZLlF5EmWC9xXjmbfk_VC42qYewNZFYVFFlSilGZYdireUKdGChmIi7PkfO8GyBjOI2YhOShiZ3FgY3Ta1KDlr5qc5Sin9D2JmnB2jGBef5bJbhy2k8lEAaZ3bsGYZMXgAEalS--X2WGPnYy5_xng/w300-h400/IMG_5416%5B1%5D.JPG" width="300" /></a></div> <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwMmHPRqV1BXaGBYRgkpOdNSeZutlp9MZR-ZksPf-LO13ZDJZ_TxKopProrggjNRyefoB0XggOKUQyYHx5YwA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p> </p><p>They didn't place in any of their classes, but Gemma didn't care and neither did I. For me, I was glad that they were alive with no mishaps due to misbehaving ponies or rider errors, and they had done everything Gemma had wanted to do. There is definitely room for improvement for the next shows, but Gemma has very little experience with flying lead changes at this point, and now she has a better idea of what skills she needs to work on. And Gemma was so excited after she was done. She has been waiting and waiting to do an actual jumping class at a show, and she got her wish. Plus, Star was rock solid, and after seeing some shenanigans from other horses, I think Gemma has an understanding of how priceless a solid, if less flashy, horse is.</p><p>But we weren't done. After we got Star settled with a snack and then back out in her field, it was time to turn our attention to Butters. The class Gemma was doing with her wasn't until a bit later in the day, but unlike at dressage shows where rider times are known ahead of time, hunter shows proceed based on how many people show up that day and how long the judge takes with each class.</p><p>When it started looking like it was time to get ready for the class, Gemma got Butters tacked up and she headed to the warm-up arena. If you have never seen the warm-up arena at a hunter show, let me assure you that it is a death trap. There are lots of riders on big, spunky horses paying absolutely no attention to where they are going or what anyone else in the arena is doing. They never call their lines when they plan to go over jumps and appear to not have even the most basic understanding of physics, particularly the bit about two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time.</p><p>For these reasons, I have never allowed Gemma anywhere near the warm-up arena. I make her warm up in either a round pen or the field next to the arena where there are no other people. But today, Gemma was determined to take the world's smallest pony into the warm-up arena. Her instructor was in there warming up too, but that didn't give me any confidence because honestly, what could she do when one of the 17-hand horses ran over my child?</p><p>I told Gemma she could try, but if I saw any sign of trouble or thought she wasn't paying attention, I was pulling her out and she could warm up in the field. As it turned out, Gemma did an amazing job of being very aware of where she was in relation to the other riders. She walked, trotted, and cantered that pony, who was completely comfortable in a sea of large horses. There were no other younger kids or ponies out there, because none of the remaining classes were for younger riders. (I discovered that Equitation on the Flat does not have any age restrictions, but in general, it is probably a bit more advanced than younger kids can handle.) Gemma told me later that she overheard the judge radio to the Secretary's booth that she should be pulled from the arena because she was too little and the judge was concerned for her safety, but her instructor stepped in to say that she was confident Gemma would be OK. So she was allowed to finish her warm up. And she did a great job, leaving the arena about one minute before two large horses almost collided right in front of me because their riders were not paying attention.</p><p>We waited for a little longer than we thought we would, and then it was time for Gemma's class with Butters. The pair walked into the arena like they owned it, even though Gemma had very little prep for the class. What we learned in the few days before the show was that Equitation on the Flat adds some more advanced movements, like turn-on-the-haunches and turn-on-the-forehand, as well as more advanced transitions, like halt to canter and canter to walk. Just before the show, I had Gemma and Butters take a lesson with an instructor at the barn that specializes in equitation to at least get a basic understanding, but anyone who rides knows that it can take years to do those more advanced things well. </p><p>So I wasn't expecting any great things - I figured it would be more of an experience for Gemma and she would decide it was too hard and not enter the class again. Because that is the art of parenting. Letting your kid do something that you're certain will be too hard so they can learn that it is too hard, rather than trying to tell them it is too hard and prohibiting them from doing it in the first place.</p><p>Yeah, as it turned out, Gemma got second place in the class, competing against kids much older. I'm pretty sure part of that placing was the cuteness factor, but they did do all the things. Not as well as a dressage rider would do them, but they were in the ballpark. And Gemma LOVED the class. So this is when the art of parenting backfires on said parent and now the parent is stuck supporting a second horse competing in all the hunter shows for the next six months...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYKZrSwXsNX5KPUqOPJ5Z6b6GVy16mjQZ51HXkjanrloL1TJlKC9IOIuXR3jhXsAB6qFfslWhSLDI-G-q-zi5neJvWgqjUHlu98r86YQCxla6y8Yg6M4aX5FIVtHeHX6cmEyjcitW77lTrfi1j4P2iuGmEQ-XRTsaU_zFoccgEmQGy-pwWgd734AYpg/s1800/2022%2004%2010%20Butters.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYKZrSwXsNX5KPUqOPJ5Z6b6GVy16mjQZ51HXkjanrloL1TJlKC9IOIuXR3jhXsAB6qFfslWhSLDI-G-q-zi5neJvWgqjUHlu98r86YQCxla6y8Yg6M4aX5FIVtHeHX6cmEyjcitW77lTrfi1j4P2iuGmEQ-XRTsaU_zFoccgEmQGy-pwWgd734AYpg/w400-h400/2022%2004%2010%20Butters.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butters and Gemma make such a cute pair!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>But I breathed a sign of relief anyway. Gemma survived the cantering flat class, the jumping class, the warm-up arena, and the Equitation on the Flat class. All the coordination with the two horses and the other two riders went really well. Now we just have to repeat this like six more times...</p><p>At this point in the month, I thought I was done with shows, and I was excited about the prospect of three weekends in a row with nothing to do...Stay tuned to find out if that is really what happened:)<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-73104700248111353672022-04-18T07:09:00.000-07:002022-04-18T07:09:40.141-07:00A little adventure with Freya, part 4<p>The day that Gemma had been waiting for finally dawned. It was the final day of the clinic, and she was scheduled to be the first participant of the day. </p><p>Gemma had worked out a minute-by-minute plan for when we would leave the hotel, when we would feed Freya, when she would brush her, and when she would tack up. She had also decided that she wanted to work on leading (using the new technique that she had first watched me do and then practiced for two days), next on lunging, and then on asking Freya to stand still while she mounted. I was hoping there would be enough time to address the braciness that Freya exhibited as well, but I know that sometimes horses don't follow the plan:)</p><p>I admit to being a bit nervous...What if Freya had a meltdown or was just too anxious for Gemma to work with her? What if Mark watched Gemma for a few minutes and said that he didn't think it would be productive to keep working with her? I have a tendency to be too much in my head sometimes, and this was probably one of those times. Freya was definitely not as comfortable at the clinic as she is at home, but she hadn't demonstrated any difficult behavior. And Gemma was confident and excited. I was mentally prepared to step in to do some in-hand work with Freya for the session if things didn't work out with Gemma, but I really hoped that all would go well.</p><p>And it really did. Mark seemed to have a good time interacting with Gemma and he kept up a witty/funny chat with her as they worked. "I think this might be the most colorful lead rope I've ever used," he said as he picked up Gemma's rainbow ombre lead rope. And he made a point to notice all the colors in her saddle pad and outfit, which made her very happy.</p><p>Gemma showed him how she was leading Freya, and he told her he thought she was doing a good job on it and didn't have too much feedback for her on improving. Then she showed him how she lunges Freya. I would have asked for more movement at the trot, but Freya was completely solid in her behavior and she did lots of perfect circles at the walk and the trot for Gemma. So nothing to work on there.</p><p>Then it came time to work on mounting. Freya has had an issue with that from when we got her and we've had varying degrees of success on working with her on it. She mostly just walks off before a person gets on, and we had been handling it by either having someone hold her or getting off the mounting block and then resetting her.</p><p>What I had seen people doing at the clinic, though, was this complicated maneuver involving what looked like a figure-8 movement if the horse walked off before the rider got on. I honestly thought that looked bizarre and overly complicated and I didn't like it. But I was there to learn, and I hoped that we would learn more about why people were using that technique. I wasn't disappointed...</p><p>Mark asked Gemma to switch from the halter to the bridle to prepare for working on mounting, so he could see what Freya did. I was the assistant, so I brought Gemma the bridle and took the halter away. One really cute thing was that while Gemma was bridling Freya, I thought, "Oh, maybe Mark could help Gemma get Freya to learn to put her head down a little bit to help with the process." As it turned out, that was completely unnecessary. Freya stood like a saint and dropped her head to the perfect height for Gemma to put the bridle on. It was pretty cute. One lady told me afterward that she actually cried a little because it looked so sweet.</p><p>Then Gemma walked Freya to the mounting block and showed Mark how Freya started to walk off before she got on. Mark watched and then came over to ask if he could work with Freya for a bit. He also asked to swap the bridle for the halter. So Gemma did that and then handed Freya to Mark.</p><p>Mark led Freya toward the mounting block and asked her to stop a little short of where she would need to be for mounting. Then he got on the block and asked her to come forward. Initially, she would overshoot the block. What he would do is allow her to go forward a few steps, then ask her to turn back around toward him and walk past the mounting block in the "wrong" direction. Once she had gone a little past the block, he would ask her to turn back toward him and he would reset her facing the correct direction, but short of where she needed to be. Then, he asked her to stop and wait before taking any more steps. He wanted her to move just one step at a time, with a pause of several seconds or more before taking another step. Once she was even with the block, he would act like he was going to get on. When she moved off, he would repeat the process. If she stayed, he would wait a few seconds and then get off the mounting block and lead her around for a minute to give her a break.</p><p>Over the next 10-15 minutes, Mark patiently repeated the process with Freya until she seemed to understand that she needed to stand at the mounting block. He explained that getting off the mounting block to reset the horse was basically giving the horse a release for moving away and communicating that the horse did the right thing. So it is better to stay on the mounting block. For the person to stay on the block and move the horse back to the right place, the figure-8 technique is necessary. It also allows the horse to move instead of constantly trying to restrict the movement.</p><p>That all made sense to me, and I understood a lot better why the technique was used. (You can see a video of it in Mark's online classroom, which costs $10/month. The web address is: <a href="https://markrashid.com/online-learning-with-mark/" target="_blank">https://markrashid.com/online-learning-with-mark/</a>.) The technique seemed to work well for Freya. She stayed calm and didn't seem to get frustrated.</p><p>Once she seemed to understand what was expected, Mark turned her over to Gemma. Gemma worked on it with Freya for a few minutes. Mark had to help a couple of times with the turning because of Gemma's lack of height, but otherwise, she did it herself. One of the most important parts of the technique was the slow process of asking the horse to approach the mounting block. Mark emphasized how slowly they should go, with just one step and then waiting. </p><p>Once it looked like Freya understood what to do with Gemma, Mark had Gemma put the bridle back on. And within a minute, Gemma was in the saddle.</p><p>Then Mark asked Gemma to halt Freya, and that is when her braciness showed. So Mark started working on asking Freya to yield just the smallest amount while Gemma was walking her. Then he worked with me on doing the same thing. Basically, I walked next to Freya on her left and had my right hand on the left rein. If her nose went up in the air, I applied a small amount of pressure to ask her to yield through her poll just a little. Once she yielded, I released. The idea was to get Freya to understand what the pressure meant and then work with Gemma so she could do it on her own.</p><p>It didn't take long for Freya to understand, and Mark commented that she seemed to be comfortable with the pressure. And then our time was up.</p><p>I was so happy that the session had gone well, and we really got a good foundation for the mounting block as well as a start on addressing Freya's bracing. Gemma was through the moon and so excited about what they accomplished, and she couldn't stop talking about it. We also got so much support from other participants and auditors. It was a great introduction to the clinic process for Gemma.</p><p>After we got Freya untacked and back in her paddock, Gemma and I watched most of the clinic for the rest of the day. It was a great experience for me to watch the other riders and how they worked on an assortment of issues. And one was a young horse that didn't have a lot of education under saddle, so that was interesting to watch as I start thinking about preparing Donut for her work under saddle. More than anything, it was clear to me how much on-the-ground preparation is key for success under saddle.</p><p>The next morning, we were up bright and early to clean the Freya's paddock one last time and head home, with our brains full of new information.</p><p>But I still had one lesson left to learn: Never get into an argument with your phone's navigation system while hauling a horse trailer. I was insistent that I wanted to go back the same way we had come, but my navigation app wasn't having it and kept trying to route me toward I-95. I tried my usual technique of just driving the direction I wanted to go and waiting for the app to reroute and eventually get the correct route. But I didn't really know the roads that well, and eventually I had to give up. The app refused to reroute me. </p><p>When I finally conceded, the app sent us on narrow backroads and through rush-hour traffic in one town and then there were some crazy get on the interstate, get off the interstate turns before I finally got on the correct interstate highway. Thus, why Gemma needed her stash of chocolate milk and I needed a donut:)</p><p>I hadn't wanted to get on I-95 because it is notorious for back-ups and accidents and heavy traffic. Which sucks when you are driving a normal car, but is even less exciting when you are towing a horse. And the route we'd come down on had been almost relaxing. In the end, though, it worked out. Traffic wasn't as bad as I thought it would be and we made good time. (But I am still very bitter at my navigation app...)</p><p>It did feel a bit surreal, though, to be headed back into the real world after the sheltered, focused world of the clinic. We had spent four days away from normal life, but we got a rude reminder of the state of the world when we stopped for gas. The price was quite a bit higher than when I'd last filled up, and in the 20 minutes we spent at the gas station, it went up 6 cents a gallon! I wasn't sure what we were headed back to, but my heart and mind were full of good experiences.</p><p>I hadn't realized how much it helps to be around people who have the same mindset when it comes to working with horses. None of the horses at the clinic were rearing up or having fits about general life, which I see several times a week normally. No one was yelling at their horses, which is also something I see a lot of. Everything was quiet and calm, even though horse and handler teams were working on some difficult processes. It was a great way for me to reground myself, and I am beyond thankful that Gemma had a chance to experience it too. I think we all have a tendency to emulate what we see, and kids in particular will copy the behavior of adults. So when that behavior is less than ideal, it can lead to misconceptions and bad habits for kids.</p><p>I very much hope that we can attend the clinic again next year, and I hope that we can spend this year applying what we have learned and become better horsewomen.</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-70168580109740414042022-03-28T07:47:00.000-07:002022-03-28T07:47:26.102-07:00A litte adventure with Freya, part 3<p>On the second day of the clinic, Freya was scheduled for a bodywork session with <a href="https://crissimcdonald.com/" target="_blank">Crissi McDonald</a>, who happens to be Mark's wife, but who is also an accomplished trainer and author in her own right. I have to admit that I haven't read any of her books, but I do read her blog from time to time, and I enjoy the way she writes and thinks about horses. More recently, she has become certified in the <a href="https://mastersonmethod.com/" target="_blank">Masterson Method</a> of bodywork, and I was so excited that the clinic was offering sessions with her. I have wanted to have a certified Masterson bodyworker work with Freya, but there aren't any close enough to us.<br /></p><p>I've written about the Masterson Method before. Gemma and I use the Bladder Meridian Technique frequently on Star and we've been working with Freya on it too. When we first got her, she was completely intolerant of the use of the technique. Simply touching her neck was enough to make her dance around and get quite worried. Over time, though, she has become more accepting, although she still worries a bit, particularly when we work on her neck. So I was interested to see how a session would work with a professional who has lots of experience working with horses not just in a bodywork setting, but with horses in general. </p><p>Freya's session was scheduled for 10 am and we had an option of where to work with her - in the indoor arena or in her paddock. I decided that the indoor arena made the most sense. The session wasn't limited to an hour like the sessions with Mark and Gray, so if horses started moving around outside from their paddocks to sessions with Mark or Gray, I thought Freya might worry. Whereas, she seemed to be reasonably calm in the indoor arena, especially after my session with Gray the day before.</p><p>Gemma led her in to the arena and we met Crissi. She was exactly like I've seen her on videos with Mark in the online classroom or Facebook. She seemed like one of those people who is restful to be around and she is kind and thoughtful. </p><p>Crissi started the session with an evaluation of Freya's body. I didn't get to watch the whole thing because we realized the halter we were using didn't have enough room for her to fully yawn if she needed to, so I went to the trailer to grab a bigger one. Essentially, though, Crissi seemed to be doing a short version of the Bladder Meridian Technique. She was looking for problem spots and areas that might need more of her attention.</p><p>Then she started working on Freya's neck. Freya demonstrated the discomfort she has by moving around. And this was when I got what might one of the top five most useful pieces of advice I've ever gotten when it comes to working with horses. Crissi said something along the lines of, "It's important to let horses move when they feel like they need to move. It's the way they manage their discomfort or worry about a situation. Lots of problems are created when people don't let horses move when they feel like they need to move."</p><p>As an example, someone asked Mark about horses that paw and how it should be handled. Mark said that he used to try to stop the pawing in a variety of ways, but that now, he lets the horse paw, unless there is an issue like the horse is pawing expensive arena footing or there is a safety issue. He said he does the same thing with horses that like to use their mouths to chew on things. Again, he said he used to try to stop it, until he started working with <a href="https://www.horsebrainscience.info/" target="_blank">Dr. Stephen Peters</a>. Dr. Peters specializes in equine neuroscience and he explained how important using the mouth to relieve or release tension is for horses. So Mark says he now tries to let horses chew on something like a lead rope when they need to chew to help them manage their mental state.</p><p>As another example, I put this theory to the test after the clinic was over. Freya was in the wash stall while Gemma was washing her tail. She got impatient, which she sometimes does, and pawing is one of her primary ways of expressing that impatience. So she started pawing. The wash stall has rubber mats, so there was no risk she would dig anything up or cause any problems, so I decided to let her paw and see what happened. </p><p>Another boarder was talking to me at the time, and as soon as Freya started pawing, she actually started to tell Freya no. (Note: Please do not discipline other people's horses unless you are the one handling them or they are doing something that is directly impacting your safety. In this case, there was no reason for someone else to intervene, but I think this idea that horses shouldn't be allowed to express themselves has become so ingrained in people that they tell horses no instinctively.)</p><p>I interrupted the boarder and explained what I was doing. And we all watched while Gemma just kept washing Freya's tail and Freya pawed for maybe 20 seconds. Then she stopped. And then maybe a minute later she started pawing again, but this time the intensity of the pawing was significantly reduced and she stopped after maybe 5 seconds. After that, she cocked one hind leg and patiently waited for Gemma to finish washing her tail. That was pretty cool to see, and I will definitely try to be more aware of ways that I can let the horses I'm working with express themselves and move to help manage their mental state.</p><p>But back to the bodywork session with Freya. She definitely struggled with the bodywork for quite a while. Crissi stayed with her, though, and let her move around in a small circle for maybe a minute each time she seemed like she needed to move. Then she would start to ask if Freya could stay still for a few seconds before moving. And eventually, she got Freya to what I think of as a Zen-like state that I see horses get into when they become very tuned in to the bodywork. If you are standing next to them or doing the bodywork, you can see and feel them turn inward as they become very aware of how you are touching them and focus their attention on their body. I wouldn't consider it necessarily relaxed, because there is an intense awareness, but usually a horse that has been moving around and shifting weight and fussing a lot will stop and stand very still.</p><p>Crissi wasn't able to go through the entire repertoire of techniques with Freya, because after about an hour, she started to lose her ability to focus. But I felt like it was such a huge step forward for her, especially after she has struggled with allowing a state of vulnerability and awareness, that I was thrilled.</p><p>We took Freya back to her paddock, and I was able to chat with Crissi for awhile. Crissi's assessment was that she didn't feel any major issues with the work she was able to do, which was good news after Freya's struggle with the health of her feet. But she did notice how protective Freya was about being touched with intention. That level of protection is not ideal and probably didn't happen overnight. Based on Crissi's experience, she thought it meant that there had been some significant length of time where Freya's interactions with humans had not included a sense of consideration for her mental state. (Note that I'm paraphrasing here, and going off my memory, so I might not be writing this exactly the way Crissi expressed it.)</p><p>My takeway was that at some point in her life before we got her, Freya didn't have what she considered to be positive interactions with humans. It could be tempting to think that maybe she was abused, but I actually don't think that. Based on my contact with her two previous owners and what I know about how she ended up at the auction we bought her from, my primary working theory is that she ended up in a situation where people had expectations about what she could handle that exceeded her actual abilities. And when she tried to tell people she was uncomfortable, she was ignored or disciplined.<br /></p><p>In all honestly, the story of how she ended up the way she is matters less than that we understand where she is now and come up with a plan to help her get to a better place. But the reason that I'm focusing on the theory that I am is because I've started paying more and more attention to how the average person interacts with their horse. And I see a complete disregard for the way a horse feels about something as the norm, plus horses are often disciplined for expressing those feelings. Obviously, there are some safety factors to consider. There are boundaries that shouldn't be crossed by a 1,000+ pound animal when interacting with humans. </p><p>But there are plenty of things horses do that people try to stop them from doing when it isn't necessary. Like fidgeting, pawing, chewing, head tossing, even shifting weight. People seem to expect their horses to stand perfectly still or walk in a certain way, but they don't take into consideration that the way they interact with their horses may have led their horse to think they want something different (like releasing pressure at the wrong time, giving inconsistent cues, or not providing clear direction). </p><p>I have been super guilty of doing all these things myself for probably decades, so this analysis is less of a judgment and more of an observation. But I can see that an animal who has spent 55 million years evolving into a creature who needs to be highly attuned to its environment and its herdmates to survive must find it very stressful to be around people who don't pay attention to their environment or the animal they are interacting with. People are on their cell phones while leading their horses. They are chatting with other people while grooming. They are day dreaming while riding.</p><p>One of the things that I found so interesting about Nimo is that while he had this amazing work ethic under saddle, the second my attention wandered, he would quit working. He wouldn't start again until he had my full attention. He very effectively trained me that when I rode, I needed to be focused on him and what we were doing. (He eventually made some exceptions for me when we were out on the trails for hours at a time, so I could let my attention wander a bit if we were on familiar trails just walking along.) And paying attention all the time was hard. I had to build up the mental muscles to do it over a fairly long period of time. But I learned because Nimo was consistent. Which tells me a lot about what horses expect and need from their handlers as well as the ability of a horse to understand and maintain focus and awareness.<br /></p><p>I don't know that most horses are so good at training their riders, but it occurs to me that even if they don't tell us (or we don't hear them), they still have the same need. And that the need doesn't disappear when we are working with them on the ground.</p><p>I know that since the clinic I have started looking for more ways that I can tune in to the horses I handle and be present when I am working with them. And I had an interesting experience with Donut as a result. </p><p>Recently, one of the horses in Donut's field started colicking. Gemma was actually the one who noticed first. She said it looked like he was trying to pee, but couldn't. She told me as we were leaving the barn, and I admit that I didn't give as much attention to what she said as I should have. I was already thinking about getting home and having dinner and enjoying a quiet evening with some time to myself.</p><p>But I stopped the truck at the field as we drove out and saw that the horse was now laying down. Something about the way he was laying didn't look right, so I went out to investigate. And my conclusion was that he was indeed colicking. I texted the owner and then got back in my truck and drove back to the barn and resigned myself to a late dinner. I planned to stay until the owner (who is a friend) got there.</p><p>I kept an eye on the horse and when I noticed that he was getting up and then laying down over and over, I asked the owner if I should catch him and try to get him walking. I wasn't seeing anything violent and I know the guidance on how to handle colic has changed a bit from thinking they need to be constantly walked to letting them stand or even lay down as long as they aren't in danger of physical injury. But many people still prefer to walk their horses. The owner said I could try, but not to risk my safety if the horse didn't want to be caught. He can only be handled reliably by his person (that is a story that isn't mine to tell and would take more than one blog post to explore), although he generally consents to me catching him and leading him. </p><p>Because of the pain he was clearly in, though, he didn't want any humans messing with him, so he made it clear by trying to kick me in the head that he wasn't interested in interacting with me. Normally, I would discipline that behavior a little more assertively, but in this case, I knew the horse was hurting and defensive. And honestly, I don't have any skills or training in handling violent horses, so I decided that my goal would be to stay near him and ask him to walk if he looked like he was going to lay down. My objective was to try to keep him as calm as possible by not getting too close, but to keep him from potentially hurting himself. </p><p>But Donut being Donut decided she wanted to hang out with me. Right next to me. And chew on my boots and my hair and basically make a giant pest of herself. (Yes, I could probably do something about that behavior and over time, I will if she doesn't end it on her own, but she is only 2, and I'm cutting her some slack as long as she doesn't try to use her teeth or do other things that might hurt me.) And perhaps interestingly, keep herself between me and the colicking horse. One lady watching said it looked like she was trying to protect me. I don't have any way of knowing that for sure and your guess is as good as mine. But Donut stuck to me like glue for over half an hour while I stalked that poor colicking horse and tried to find the sweet spot between asking him to walk but not putting so much pressure on him that he felt defensive.</p><p>At one point, the horse seemed to be standing quietly and not trying to lay down, so I let him rest. Donut was with me, and for maybe 2-3 minutes, we had a connection that felt like what I had with Nimo. I was worried about the colicking horse, and I felt like a fish out of water trying to handle him from a distance. Donut stood next to me and rested her head on my shoulder and just stood with me. Not chewing, not messing with my hair or my clothes. I'm sure it sounds a bit nuts, but I felt her with me. Like this mature presence telling me that no matter what happened, I had a friend.</p><p>It was an incredible experience and an important reminder that there is so much more complexity to horses than most people get to see and feel. And it made me think that it was a good thing that Gemma and I went to this clinic, because I think it helped sensitize me to the horses around me and gave me the opportunity to have a connection with Donut that I might not have had otherwise.<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-34471411870257431192022-03-21T08:01:00.002-07:002022-03-21T08:01:58.571-07:00A little adventure with Freya, part 2<p>The drive down to the clinic was pretty uneventful. I had opted for a slightly longer time on the road in lieu of driving on the interstate, which can be unpredictably backed up and heavy with truck traffic, and it turned out to be a great choice. It took us about six hours, including a stop for gas and to check on Freya. She seemed to be taking the trip in stride after her initial irritation at having her plans for the day seriously disrupted. </p><p>When we got to the farm hosting the clinic, I found the owner and asked for details on unloading Freya and parking the trailer. It was a really nice farm with a great set-up. We parked next to the paddocks that would be hosting the horses for the clinic and chose one for Freya. We were one of the first people to arrive, so I worried that the lack of horses in sight would upset Freya. But she walked off the trailer like she'd always lived there and went straight into her paddock and happily started munching on grass.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizX_PW7hHYPmVsc8r1dENygbLCmmwuyV96FMorrgYsjBN5rws5mIwzgwGIDFAGt1pmMBnA77bR0ekoGwet-OpGjm8j7AgYrMu5NHmNit3vz6fTcVFXGd27r38CGsJeR4dZAAIjmEok--Ewad536D1Iqgxa2Uj1-oKIQkZnnIEILlSZRbdqcGuLam_hlw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizX_PW7hHYPmVsc8r1dENygbLCmmwuyV96FMorrgYsjBN5rws5mIwzgwGIDFAGt1pmMBnA77bR0ekoGwet-OpGjm8j7AgYrMu5NHmNit3vz6fTcVFXGd27r38CGsJeR4dZAAIjmEok--Ewad536D1Iqgxa2Uj1-oKIQkZnnIEILlSZRbdqcGuLam_hlw=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The farm was in a beautiful setting with nice paddocks for the horses.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>We got water and hay set up for Freya and unloaded the hay and tack trunk from the truck bed and got the trailer organized for the next few days. After checking on Freya to make sure she was still doing OK, we headed about 15 minutes down the road to our hotel to get checked in.</p><p>I had reserved a room at a hotel with kitchenettes so we wouldn't have to go out looking for food and we could focus on the clinic. We had a little time before the evening session with Mark, so we unpacked our food and supplies and fixed a light dinner before heading back to the farm.</p><p>At this point, I was still thinking that it wasn't going to be an issue for Gemma to ride in the clinic. But when we checked in for the session with Mark, the organizer pulled me aside and explained that Mark was really not comfortable with Gemma participating in the clinic because of her age and that he would prefer if I did the sessions instead.</p><p>I was a little bit thrown because I'd already emailed Gemma's experience, and I really thought she'd be OK. But I can see from Mark's perspective that he didn't know me or Gemma, and I admit that I have seen kids Gemma's age struggle with coordination in the saddle and understanding even basic instructions, even if they have been riding for awhile. I could tell Gemma was disappointed at the news, but handling it really well. I asked the organizer if it would be OK to talk to Mark in person about the situation after the session, and she said it would. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to convince him to let Gemma participate, but I was hoping something would come to me soon...</p><p>We spent the next two and a half hours in a Q&A session with Mark. There were probably 30 - 40 people there and everyone had the opportunity to ask as many and whatever questions they wanted. Gemma was easily the youngest person there by about 30 years, but everyone was very supportive of her being there. Even more surprising was that as Gemma listened to the session, she thought of her own question and asked it. She wanted to know if Mark thought horses could read human minds. Of course, she already knew the answer is yes, but she was curious about Mark's viewpoint.</p><p>As with all of the questions, Mark took her question seriously and provided a thoughtful answer based on some research that had been done. He said he wasn't sure if horses could read minds, but that research did support some kind of connection. The study he discussed involved participants who were very scared of horses. I can't remember all of the details he gave, but the gist of it seemed to be that they put the scared people in a round pen with a horse. The person was blind-folded and then the person's and the horse's responses were observed. Again, I can't remember all of the specifics, but I think the researchers found that the horses gave down-regulating signs, like they were trying to help the person feel less scared. Which is a super interesting result.</p><p>I asked Mark how he chooses the horses he buys. I have a membership to his online classroom, and I've been intermittently following the video series he has done on Top, a horse that he brings to clinics. And I was curious about how he decided to get that horse. Because the horse was not without issues, and Mark said he has been working with him for about two years. He explained that he used to breed and train his own horses, and at one clinic, a woman he was working with expressed a bit of frustration with him as she pointed out that he didn't have to deal with the issues she was dealing with because he bred and trained his own horses. He said he took her comment to heart and over time eventually sold his breeding stock and started buying horses that had issues like the ones he saw in clinic participant's horses, so he would know exactly what they were dealing with. I thought that was a pretty impressive thing to do and showed a real commitment to the work that he does. In the case of Top, he bought the horse off of a video and said he saw something in the way the horse reacted to an error by his rider. After the mistake, the horse basically just shook it off and went on his way. Mark said he liked that reaction because it meant the horse could experience stress and then quickly get back to a good mental state.<br /></p><p>After the session was over, it was about 8:30 pm. Gemma and I had been up since 6 am, we'd been on the road for six hours, we had gotten Freya settled in, checked ourselves into our hotel and eaten dinner, and sat through a two and a half hour session. I knew Gemma was done in for the day, but I really wanted to see if I could find a way to resolve Mark's concern about Gemma's participation. Zero bright ideas had come to me about how to do that, but I approached him anyway.</p><p>I introduced myself and explained the situation and asked if it would be OK to talk about it. Mark said it would. So I went through the same points I'd made in my email about her having taken lessons for three years, that she rides multiple horses in multiple disciplines, that some of the instruction she gets is focused on her coordination in the saddle and that she has been working with an instructor on more complicated things like balance of the horse. While I was talking, Gemma came up to us. </p><p>Mark turned to her and started asking her questions about her experience, her horse, and what she hoped to learn. And I thought she did great. She answered all of his questions. She was enthusiastic and honest. And I guess she did what I couldn't. She convinced Mark that she should be allowed to ride with him. We decided that I would do the session with Mark's student instructor the next day (Friday) and Gemma would participate in the session with Mark on Sunday.</p><p>I was so relieved that we'd been able to find a solution, and I had my first good night's sleep in a long time that night.</p><p>The next morning we were up at 6:30. We got ready and packed snacks and then headed out to the farm. We found Freya in good shape and fed her breakfast and picked manure from the paddock. At about 9, we headed to the outdoor arena where Gray, Mark's student instructor would be working with people and horses. I didn't know anything about her, although Mark had explained that he was very selective about his student instructors. If my memory is correct, there are only eight of them.</p><p>Taking instruction from someone I don't know is super hard for me. Not because I don't want to listen or try the techniques they suggest, but because it is hard for me to trust and communicate with someone I don't know. To help me do better in my session, I wanted to watch Gray work, so I could get a better idea of what to expect when my session came up.</p><p>I really enjoyed watching her. She was pleasant and focused on working with her student, and she would throw in the occasional joke as well as check her audience to see if they had questions. Observing her teach definitely helped me feel better about my session with her, which would be that afternoon.</p><p>Being nine, Gemma didn't have the attention span to watch lesson after lesson all day, so after the first lesson and half the second, we moved back to checking on Freya and then we went back to the hotel for lunch. My session was scheduled for 2 pm, so we came back at about 1 to make sure there was enough time to get ready.</p><p>I wouldn't be riding Freya - I hadn't even brought a saddle or a helmet. I knew that any work I did with her would be on the ground. As I've written before, I really felt like she had a fundamental issue that needed to be resolved with the bracing she was doing, so I wanted to start on the ground first.</p><p>We ended up working in one end of the indoor arena while Mark did a session at the other end. It was at least a full-size dressage arena, so there was plenty of room. I knew the work we would be doing wouldn't require a huge amount of space, and I thought Freya would be more comfortable if she could see other horses.</p><p>When I walked her into the arena, I could tell she was a little nervous. She wanted to look around a lot and stop and then walk. I gave her the opportunity to do that while we waited for our time, thinking I was doing the right thing to help her figure out her surroundings. I later learned that I wasn't helping her as much as I thought I was. <br /></p><p>At this point, I'm going to freely admit that while I have spent decades of my life learning to be a better rider, I have spent very little time actively trying to improve my horsemanship skills. As a rider, I've still got a lot to learn, but I also feel confident enough in my skills to say that I can classify myself as a good rider. I don't think I have the skill set to work horses that need special handling, but I think I could ride most horses that don't have serious issues without getting myself into trouble.</p><p>Comparatively speaking, the amount I know about how to handle horses on the ground is pretty minimal. I've been able to get by because I generally interact with horses that have basic skills and good temperaments. I've read a lot and watched a lot of videos on handling horses. But when it comes to practical experience with an expert instructor, I've got almost nothing.</p><p>Which is one reason I wanted to go to this clinic. I need to move beyond a theoretical understanding and start using the techniques I've been reading about and watching. But I know that I need an expert to help me.</p><p>So when it was my time to work with Gray and she asked me what I wanted to work on, I explained that I felt like Freya had this low level of worry that I wanted to help her with. And I mentioned that when I ask her to do something, like back up or move over, she has trouble giving just one step. Instead, she moves a lot of steps, as if she is compelled to move. I also pointed out that she was having trouble standing still.</p><p>Gray watched me handle Freya and asked a couple of follow up questions, and then she asked if she could work with Freya for a bit. I willingly turned over the lead rope and watched.</p><p>I know I've written about my concern about leading a horse from in front before. I did some work with Donut on it a few months after I got her and I found it to be very disconcerting and anxiety inducing. But I had noticed that everyone at this clinic was leading their horses from in front. And it was clear that after Gray worked with Freya for a few minutes that Freya was perfectly comfortable being led from in front. Not only that, but her anxiety and trouble standing still was completely resolved.</p><p>I learned to lead horses from the side. In fact, I spent several of my teenage years practicing for showmanship at halter for 4-H shows, which required the handler to be in a certain position on the side of the horse while leading. What I discovered at this clinic is that leading from the side may be OK after you've mastered leading from the front, but that it isn't where you start. One of statements I heard over and over at this clinic was that horses need direction from their handlers. Not giving direction can get you into all sorts of trouble. In Freya's case, not telling her where I wanted her to be was likely causing her some anxiety or at least not relieving any anxiety that she currently felt.<br /></p><p>I was definitely having a moment or two as I processed not only the idea that I may have spent the last almost four decades of my life looking at something as basic as leading a horse in the wrong way, but also that I may have caused myself and my horses unnecessary difficulty because I had never learned a better way to lead.</p><p>Gray was not to be deterred from her attempt to help me improve, though, and she gave me back the lead rope so I could practice. It turns out that the person Mark should have interviewed to see if she could handle the clinic was me, not Gemma:) My timing was awful, and I struggled to let go of my own bracing as I worked with Freya. We did eventually get the essentials of it, though, and I found that if I could lead so that the horse was positioned just behind me instead of several feet behind me, I didn't have any worry about being run over by accident if the horse spooked. One thing that I initially struggled with was the use of the lead rope and making a noise to indicate to Freya that she was in the wrong place. The most common technique is to swing the lead rope in front of (not at) the horse and make a "shhhhhh" sound to indicate the horse needs to move either away or back from the handler. My coordination being virtually non-existent and also being a bit self-conscious hindered my early efforts.<br /></p><p>The next thing we worked on was addressing Freya's bracing. We started with the halter and just putting a gentle pressure backward on the lead rope. The goal wasn't to ask Freya to back up, it was to ask her to soften through her poll, even the slightest bit. Again, Gray had to start off the exercise, and what she found was the same thing I did. Freya was very responsive but she didn't understand how to soften. She started backing her way around the arena, not understanding that she was being asked to soften.</p><p>It took awhile - maybe 10 minutes - for Gray to help Freya understand what was being asked. Gray pointed out that sometimes (probably a lot of times if we are going to be honest) when horses are trained, the training only requires that the horse moves its feet, not that it does the movement with softness. So bracing or pushing into pressure becomes what the horse thinks it is supposed to do. It could also be that Freya's reaction developed over time due to inconsistent or uneducated riding. And Gemma and I had been reinforcing it simply because I wasn't sure how to change the response. And I doubt I could have done it as diligently and accurately as Gray did.</p><p>After Freya understood that the pressure was asking her to soften, Gray turned her back over to me to practice. Again, my timing sucked and I struggled a bit, but I did get to the point where Gray felt we could move on to the next step.</p><p>We swapped Freya's halter for her bridle and Gray worked with her again. This time applying slight pressure to both reins to ask her to soften her poll. And by slight I mean something like a quarter pound of pressure. Just enough so the contact was stable and steady. It took some time for Freya to grasp what was meant, but eventually she did, and then I practiced with her. Interestingly, I realized that I might have had an easier time had I been riding, because my coordination in the saddle is much better than it is on the ground. But as you'll discover, this ended up being good practice for Gemma's session with Mark. I also want to note that the response Gray was looking for was very subtle. It could be seen by a careful observer, but it was more of a feeling than anything else. The movement Freya gave was very slight. Maybe just an inch of her nose moving in. The change was really in the way she softened through her poll just a little.<br /></p><p>This was the subtlety that I felt was most appropriate for her. In my Science of Motion work, we had worked toward the same type of goal of yielding through the poll, but the intensity of what was expected was too much for Freya and it worried her. The softness we were looking for with Gray didn't worry her. She didn't soften at first not because she was worried but because she simply didn't know what we were asking.<br /></p><p>All too soon, our hour with Gray was up. I felt like I learned so much, though, and that I could now see a way forward with Freya that could help her.</p><p>The other benefit was that Gemma had been watching carefully. She had made herself at home in the arena, befriending another lady who was watching the session. By the time Freya and I were done, Gemma and her new friend were comfortably seated next to each other on the floor of the arena, actively engaged in a conversation.<br /></p><p>Gemma immediately started practicing the leading technique as she walked Freya back to her paddock. And her timing was already better than mine.</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-92203610473417112912022-03-14T07:03:00.001-07:002022-03-14T07:03:48.641-07:00A little adventure with Freya, part 1<p>"I need a drink!" Gemma exclaimed as she took a swig of her emergency stash of chocolate milk. I nodded in commiseration and said, "I need a donut!" Thankfully, I had the foresight to buy an extra Boston Kreme donut the day before, and I reached for the bag next to the driver's seat as my heart rate settled back into its normal rhythm. </p><p>We had just survived the most unusual route thanks to my erratic navigation app, and we were now apparently on the right interstate headed in the right direction toward home, my trailer full of a probably confused Freya in tow.</p><p>The events that led to this more-exciting-than-I-really-wanted drive started back in October, when I found out about a clinic in North Carolina with my favorite horseman. Well, actually, maybe they really started back in February 2003.</p><p></p><p>Back then, I was still fairly new to northern Virginia. I had a cute six-year-old Appaloosa named Preacher, and I imagined that he was going to be with me for the next twenty plus years. He had a mild, intermittent lameness that several vets had been unable to diagnose, but I was confident that it was something minor that we would figure out over time or that would resolve on its own.</p><p></p><p></p><p>I had become friends with a lady who was a big fan of a guy named Mark Rashid. He had published at least a couple of books by then, and my friend thought they were gold. She worked as a barn manager for a stable that had 50 lesson horses plus about 15 boarded horses, and she was always looking for ways to handle the horses better and easier. She found out about a clinic that he would be at and it was only about a two hour drive, so she encouraged me to sign up with Preacher and she would be taking her horse. The clinic filled fast, and we snagged the last two spots for our horses.</p><p>Even though we registered in February, the clinic wouldn't be held until October (I think - my memory is a bit fuzzy on the exact timing). By then, so much had happened in my life. Preacher was diagnosed with a fairly advanced case of navicular disease in April and the condition of his feet got worse and worse. In June, the unthinkable happened, he shattered his hock when he was turned out in the pasture, and it was not something that could be repaired. I watched while the life ebbed out of a very special horse when the vet came to put him down in the field, because he couldn't walk.</p><p>Despite my extreme grief over Preacher's loss, I knew that I would want another horse in the future. So I held on to my stall at the stable I'd been boarding him, much to the irritation of the owner and probably other potential boarders. It was then, and still is now, very hard to get stalls at good facilities, and when you do get a stall you only let it go if you absolutely have to. So I was under a bit of pressure to find another horse to fill the stall. (I was still paying full board, but I guess seeing an empty stall really bothered the owner, and he started sounding like he would force me to let it go if I didn't get a horse soon.)</p><p>So I spent weeks looking for a horse. I eventually decided I really wanted a Friesian yearling. I would have been happy with an older Friesian, but the price of yearlings was the best my budget could do. So I think it was about the beginning of August when I made an offer on a yearling named Hjalte. He was sweet and seemed to have basic skills. The seller accepted my offer, we signed a purchase agreement, and I transferred the purchase amount to her bank.</p><p>And once the money was transferred, I got a frantic call from the seller saying she'd decided she couldn't sell the yearling after all. It was a bit of a mess, but I did get my money back. I was definitely soured on dealing with private sellers after that experience, though.</p><p>So I turned my attention to a farm in Maryland that had lots of Friesians for sale, and whose business was actually selling them. I felt more confident in the sales process, and the farm had two yearlings, a filly and a colt, for sale. I ended up choosing the colt, who was a bit of a handful, but who had a huge personality and a clear love of people. I made an offer, which was accepted, and then all of a sudden I had a horse again. His registered name was Geronimo f/t Friesian Conn., but he seemed like a Nimo to me. So that is what I decided to call him.<br /></p><p>Nimo needed to be gelded before coming back to my barn, so arrangements were made, and the surgery was performed. I was there, and it was hot and sweltering and there were a few complications. In the end, Nimo was fine, but I admit to no small amount of anxiety while he was healing.</p><p>Once he was healed and vaccinated and his hooves were trimmed, a friend came with me to pick him up and haul him to his new home. One of the first things that I discovered after we got him home was that he had a little trouble leading. It wasn't so much that he didn't know how. He did. It was that he didn't always feel like moving forward. And that was creating a bit of a problem at the stable. The stable was a hybrid self-care situation. Various boarders would do chores like feeding and turnout in exchange for a reduction in board, but boarders were responsible for cleaning their horses' stalls and providing hay and feed. So the boarders were having a little trouble leading Nimo out to his field. They solved this problem by feeding him treats with every step. Sigh...Even then, that horse could con food out of people faster than you could blink.<br /></p><p>I knew I had a problem that needed to be solved quickly and that's when my friend reminded me that I had signed up for the clinic with Mark Rashid. I had forgotten about it in all the events that had happened, and to be honest, I wasn't really that confident that some random horse guy was going to be able to fix this problem. On the other hand, I really needed Nimo to lead better or he was going to weigh 2,000 pounds in six months with all those treats.</p><p>So just two or three weeks after I had brought Nimo to the barn, we headed off to the clinic. He did great at loading in the trailer, he was easy to haul, and he had no trouble going to a new place. He was with my friend's horse, who he knew a little from playtime in the arena, so he had a friend, but he didn't worry about being separated from her.</p><p>When it was time for our session, I managed to get Nimo into the round pen where we'd be working and showed Mark the problem. You'd be walking along with Nimo, and then he would just stop, and no amount of finagling would get him going until he was ready. Mark watched for a few minutes and then suggested a solution - every time Nimo stopped, I would turn around and start acting like a crazy person. I would be jumping up and down, waving my arms, and yelling. Well, I can tell you who I thought the crazy person was about then.</p><p>But I'd paid a bunch of money and we were already there, so I gave it a try (or maybe Mark did it first and showed me how it worked...again, my memory is a bit fuzzy). Anyway, Nimo was very responsive to the technique. It took about 10 or 15 minutes before I got my timing right, and then we were in business. I vaguely remember using the technique maybe a handful of times more after the clinic, but it didn't take long before Nimo was an equine good citizen about being led to and from his field.</p><p>I ended up auditing a couple of clinics with Mark in future years, but I didn't have the resources to pay for a full clinic session, and I wasn't that sure what we would work on. By the time I realized that I could use some help from Mark and I had the money to pay for it, he wasn't coming to that location or any other location that felt close enough to haul to. And I also had discovered Science of Motion, and for a long time, I really thought that was the right path for us. (I still think it was, but I think a few tips from Mark would have helped us immeasurably, and I really regret not seeking out a clinic with him before Nimo died.) I read all Mark's books over the years, of course, but for me, reading and doing are not even in the same universe, so the information has felt mostly theoretical. Until recently.</p><p>Back in October, I stumbled across a Facebook post by a lady hosting a Mark Rashid clinic in North Carolina. Well, much of North Carolina is within a decent hauling distance, so I mapped the location and discovered that it was about a five hour drive. Because of all the hauling I used to do for endurance rides, that didn't feel intimidating, and I immediately emailed the clinic organizer and snagged the last available session with Mark, plus a session with his student trainer, Gray, and a bodywork session with Mark's wife, Crissy McDonald, who has become certified in the Masterson Method.</p><p>I was elated. Even though the clinic was too late to help Nimo and me, it wasn't too late to help my daughter, Gemma, and her horse, Freya. Freya has been going through her own saga, but at the time I registered for the clinic, I was seeing a lot of bracing in response to pressure. Like tensing when Gemma put contact, even light contact, on the reins. I also noticed that while she was incredibly responsive to requests to move on the ground, she was bracing through her response. For example, if I asked her to back up, she would immediately back 6 steps, but she didn't seem able to soften or yield to the contact. She also seemed incapable of backing one step at a time, no matter how softly I asked.</p><p>I knew that the bracing was a fundamental problem that needed to be resolved before we could advance with her. I also knew how I would approach it if I was the one riding her, but I wasn't quite sure how to handle it on the ground. I tried a technique that I watched Mark do with a new horse in his online classroom, and I just couldn't get my timing right. Plus Gemma was the one riding her, and I didn't think she possessed the feel or the patience to work through the issue under saddle the way I would.</p><p>So I put my faith in Mark for the clinic and tried to tread water with Freya until then. As it happened, she ended up with a chronic thrush infection in all four of her hooves. I didn't realize it was thrush at first, because it happened during our dry fall. And there was no odor or oozing fluid. But she started looking sore on her feet. I was thinking I was going to have to put shoes on, when my instructor checked her feet and noticed that she had cracks in the bulbs of her heels. I felt incredibly ignorant, having owned a horse that never had much trouble with hoof infections, and I didn't know that heel cracks are a sign of a sometimes deep infection that can be really painful.</p><p>Once I knew, I immediately started treating, but the infection was unresponsive to several highly recommended products. Finally, I stumbled on a product called No Thrush that is a powder, which was just what I needed as winter came in full force and temperatures were often below freezing, so liquid and gel products couldn't be used. No Thrush did heal the cracks in Freya's hind feet in about a month, but the front cracks were stubborn, and I ended up doing a round of Today (an antibiotic for mastitis in cows). That resolved one of the front cracks and made a significant difference in the other. But I think it is going to be an issue for awhile. At least Freya doesn't seem sore anymore.</p><p>I had pulled her out of ridden work for two months, because she was so sore from her feet that her lumbar area and neck also became quite sore. I had the chiropractor come out once a month to help with the soreness, and finally, during our early February session, it looked like Freya was starting to feel better. Shortly after that, I did a lunging lesson with my instructor, and she was moving so much better.</p><p>So I put Gemma back on her for short walking sessions for a couple of weeks, and then we added trot back in. And it was clear that the braciness was still there. Gemma was able to help work it out intermittently, but I felt we needed a better plan and a more structured approach that made sense to Gemma and Freya. I should say that I don't think the approaches that were being taken by either of the other instructors we were working with were right for Freya at that time. Freya's problem was so ingrained in her, we needed to find a very gentle way of chipping away at it without triggering her threshold for feeling anxiety. Science of Motion techniques were too intense when used by me or Gemma. I think if my instructor was the one working with Freya, it would be OK, because my instructor has years and years and years worth of experience that we do not have. But the reality is that Gemma and I are the ones working with her, and we need to find techniques that work for us and Freya. Luckily, we were scheduled for Mark's clinic.</p><p>So on Thursday, March 3, we loaded the truck and trailer, and hauled Freya down to North Carolina. As I drove, I reflected that I really didn't know what to expect from Freya. She is generally easy to handle, even if she is worried about something, and I knew she'd been hauled to shows before we got her. But none of that meant that she would be OK at the clinic. We were staying four nights, and that is a lot of time for a horse to handle being away from home. And kind of a lot for a nine-year-old kid too. But I knew in my heart that this clinic was the best chance for us to find a way through Freya's bracing.<br /></p><p>What I didn't realize when we left was that while I knew Gemma would be able to handle a lesson with Mark, Mark was skeptical, so Gemma's participation in the clinic was by no means assured...<br /></p><p></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-89160531129990640952022-02-28T07:19:00.000-08:002022-02-28T07:19:24.999-08:00Joy is not a crumb<p>I'm not a huge sports fan. In fact, sometimes I think the world would be a better place without professional sports. But that could be because I have the coordination of an amoeba. (That is probably insulting to amoebas. I'm sorry, amoebas.) While I can appreciate the technical difficulty of hitting a ball a bunch of times or running really fast or jumping really high, doing it competitively isn't something that resonates with me.</p><p>I do make an exception, though. Olympic figure skating is a sport that I will make time to watch. I am fascinated with the performance and how it is tied to music, and few things make me happier than watching a good skate set to fun music.</p><p>My husband and daughter love to watch the skating as well, so we set aside time every night for several nights to watch all of the figure skating events during this year's Olympics. We were collectively excited to see the successes, we gasped at the falls, and we tapped our toes to the music. My daughter even "performed" along with the skaters, doing her own spins and leaps next to the TV.</p><p>The one thing I noticed, though, was that most of the skaters seemed to struggle with one or more parts of their programs. There were a surprising number of falls among the elite athletes, and it was hard to watch how disappointed some of them were as they judged themselves more harshly than any official judge and certainly more harshly than I did.</p><p>But there was one skater who stood out to me. His name is Jason Brown and he skates for the U.S. I realized that watching him skate just made me happy. I was quite literally smiling at the end of his performance. His face had been joyful during his skating and he was radiant as he walked off the ice.</p><p>Yet there was no chance he would get a medal. And he knew that going into the Olympics. You see, he didn't include any of the quadruple jumps that have become an unwritten requirement for earning a medal. The announcers helpfully pointed that out several times. They also commented on what a beautiful skater he is and how his artistry on the ice is almost unmatched. Also, his skating was almost error-free.<br /></p><p>In the end, he earned a sixth place finish, and he seemed absolutely delighted. There was no crying, no falling to the ground in despair, no complaining about how the scoring is skewed toward technical difficulty instead of the artistry that he is so good at, basically none of the other behavior that I was stunned to see in multiple events across disciplines in the world's best athletes at the world's most famous games. Mr. Brown was so excited to be at the Olympics and skating for his country and that was enough.<br /></p><p>If you read about his history or watch interviews with him, you can see that his joy seems to be authentic. He works hard and has overcome challenges, but he truly loves to skate and perform.</p><p>Watching Mr. Brown skate and thinking about the way it made me feel sent me down a rabbit hole of reflection. I remembered how riding and being with horses used to make me feel when I was a kid. </p><p>When I was my daughter's age, I stayed at my grandma's house for a month every summer. She had a farm, and even more importantly, she had Skip. Skip was a 16-hand Quarter Horse that I fell in love with. When he wasn't being ridden or helping work cattle, he spent his time in a huge pasture - maybe 100 acres. In the heat of the summer days, I would set out on foot from the house and walk the pasture until I found him, solely for the purpose of standing next to him and breathing in his scent. To this day, I have never found a horse that smells better than Skip. He smelled like skin and sweat and sun and outside. When I rode him all over the countryside (by myself!), I finally felt right with the world and I loved every minute of it. </p><p>Of course, I didn't know much about horse care or riding back then. As time went on, my parents finally relented and got me a horse of my own. Over the years, I've owned seven horses and had the opportunity to ride many others. And I learned a lot more about horses. </p><p>But after watching Mr. Brown skate, it occurred to me that as I've gained knowledge, I've lost a lot of the joy I originally felt. I don't remember the last time I walked through 90-degree heat with the sun beating on me just to smell a horse because the draw was so powerful, I was helpless to resist. When I'm constantly thinking about what to feed or whether to blanket or how to trim hooves or what training technique to use, there isn't much room for joy.</p><p>Certainly, I know the feeling of working on a particular movement for weeks and months and even years and finally achieving it for three seconds before it fades away. But why should I be content with three seconds of joy every few months?</p><p>As the poet Mary Oliver writes:</p><blockquote><p>Don't Hesitate<span> </span> <br /></p></blockquote><p></p><blockquote>If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,<br />
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty<br />
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about<br />
to be. We are not wise, and not very often<br />
kind. And much can never be redeemed.<br />
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this<br />
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes<br />
something happens better than all the riches<br />
or power in the world. It could be anything,<br />
but very likely you notice it in the instant<br />
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case.<br />
Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid<br />
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.</blockquote><p>So I'll be honest. I have always thought that joy was a crumb. I thought that life is full of challenges and you work through them the best you can and every once in awhile, you get some happiness as a reward.</p><p>But after reading Ms. Oliver's poem and watching Jason Brown skate, I realized that I need to do a rethink on that one. And that's exactly what I've been doing. It's hard to change a pattern of thinking and behavior, but I'm working on it a little at a time. I want the joy of being with horses back. I want to breathe them in and love being in their presence even if the sun is beating on me. (It may be slightly harder to experience joy when being bitten by Virginia's excessive insect population, but I'll work on that when the time comes...)</p><p>I've taken two steps in my effort to bring back the joy. The first is that I wear a bracelet with the words etched into the leather so I get a constant reminder. The second is that I've tried to be more mindful when I'm working with horses. Donut is handling being tied for a bit longer now, and when I brush her, I focus on being aware of her and on enjoying being with her instead being as efficient as possible. As I introduce putting on her headstall, I try to feel her body and any tension that she has and let time stop while I let her think through what I'm asking. When I ride Star, I have given myself permission to feel her underneath me rather than trying to tell her how to move all the time. And when I lunge Freya, I try to focus less on how she is moving and more on her connection with me on the lunge line.<br /></p><p>The interesting thing is that from a technical standpoint, I'm not making huge gains. No one watches me with Donut and admires how quickly I get her to accept having a headstall put on (because after several days, she still thinks the headstall is possibly some kind of horse-eating alien despite the fact that she is easily haltered by any idiot). No one watches me ride Star and tells me how amazing we look (because we simply walk, trot, and canter without falling down). And no one watches me lunge Freya and is impressed with her lofty and articulated trot strides (because her trot mostly resembles a western pleasure horse).</p><p>But I have noticed a change in my mental state. When I'm not constantly facing an internal dialogue of what I need to be doing to do better, I can feel more from the horse. And I'm not as worried about problems. Because seriously, why does it matter if it takes Donut a month to learn how to wear a headstall instead of 20 minutes? And if Star never competes in 2nd Level dressage, well, I suspect it won't matter to her at all. And if it takes Freya several months instead of several weeks to learn how to improve her trot on the lunge, what is the big deal? She's been moving like a western pleasure horse for 8 years, it's probably not going to kill her to move that way for another few months.</p><p>In my quest to do better for the horse, I think I lost sight of the horse. I've spent so much time and money educating myself and trying to make my interactions with horses better. Taking lessons, reading books, watching videos, attending clinics. And all of that is valuable. And I'm certain my horses appreciate better care and better skill from their handler. But it's time to focus on something different. I need to be less interested in approval from my instructor or my barn owner or a judge or my horse friends and more interested in approval from my horse. And I want to rekindle the joy I felt as I child.<br /></p><p>This kind of effort is a game-changer, I think. I'm not quite sure how it will work out, but the idea that joy could be a significant part of my time with horses instead of a blip on the radar screen is so appealing that I can't stop thinking about it. The great thing is that I have a wonderful role model in my daughter, who loves every minute she spends at the barn and with horses, so if I lose my way, I can look at her and get my bearings again.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1F89nO6vjc_eweSr7Pf2LMpft9j5EDMv-56BkFP1urNUQgfd__tuYybmqX9SRGA-0wpr7c4_YQYrfdcYsgV3mkcYg-DyRXPoXxtXhmMtKDgCa2F-xd7eu5JDDKNoG3szRrAGc5-eT2nsEmpxgbYsawkYXw-7-nfoi9NWpDwC2pPGkKzft2BlRVtrKWg=s6240" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6240" data-original-width="4160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1F89nO6vjc_eweSr7Pf2LMpft9j5EDMv-56BkFP1urNUQgfd__tuYybmqX9SRGA-0wpr7c4_YQYrfdcYsgV3mkcYg-DyRXPoXxtXhmMtKDgCa2F-xd7eu5JDDKNoG3szRrAGc5-eT2nsEmpxgbYsawkYXw-7-nfoi9NWpDwC2pPGkKzft2BlRVtrKWg=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gemma and Star. Photo by CarlyGPhotography.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-55680646064188868602022-02-14T06:25:00.001-08:002022-02-14T06:25:40.425-08:00Donut Update<p>Before I wrote my last post, I had planned to write an update on how Donut was doing. The events of that day eclipsed the mundane details I was going to write, so I decided to delay my post on Donut's more boring life:)</p><p>She has basically been living the good life for the past few months. She is out 24/7 and only comes in to the barn when I bring her in, about three times a week. I haven't been doing a whole lot with her, because I've been supporting Gemma's efforts with Freya and Star, but also because there really wasn't much of a reason to get too intense.</p><p>However, as Donut approaches her third birthday, the time is coming where I want to acclimate her to more serious work. Normally, I bring her in to her stall for her to eat dinner and some alfalfa hay, and I brush her and pick out her feet and sometimes trim them. Donut is pretty compliant about most things when she's eating, so it is an easy 10-15 minutes of interaction, and then I turn her back out.</p><p>My plan is to start Donut doing some in-hand work in April this year. I will probably also add some lungeing and ground driving. I don't plan to do any under saddle work with her until she is four, but I will do things like have her start working in a bridle with a bit and wear a saddle at least some of the time. I may even sit on her and practice having her stand at the mounting block while I get on. I'll just see how it goes.<br /></p><p>When I trained Nimo, I didn't know about in-hand work, so I didn't use it, but I did do a lot of lungeing and a little ground driving for about a year before I started him under saddle, and I think it really paid off. When I finally got on, it was a nonevent. Which is what I would like for Donut too. (Also, I am older now, and would very much like to avoid any theatrics that result in me landing on the ground.)</p><p>But before I can get to the point where I'm introducing a bridle and saddle and all sorts of other new things, I wanted to work with Donut on standing while tied. Nimo came to me already knowing how to be in cross ties and that is the predominant method of tying in this area. At the barns that I boarded Nimo at, cross-tying was the best way to groom and tack up a horse. I didn't work on regularly tying him until I started hauling him to shows and tying him to a trailer. It was never a big deal, though, and it didn't take long before he was pretty trustworthy.<br /></p><p>At the barn I'm at now, though, there aren't a lot of good places to either cross tie or tie regularly. There is a wash stall in the barn that has a set up for both cross ties and regular tying, but it is in almost constant use and people are always going in out with feed buckets and other stuff that they want to rinse out. So it isn't the best place for me to use to teach Donut how to tie because of the lack of consistency and the activity level. Once she knows, then it will be good to use the distractions as a way to reinforce the behavior. And tying in front of the stall is problematic because there is stuff there, like blankets and halters and a tack trunk and hay. So Donut is going to be in all that stuff. The aisle is out of the question too because it is huge. Instead of a normal 12-foot span, it is 24 feet, making cross-tying impossible. (Some people at the barn actually have horses that ground tie in the aisle. We actually do that with Freya and Star a lot of the time, but ground-tying is later on my list of things to do.)<br /></p><p>The one option I have is to actually tie in the stall, (which in hind sight turns out to be a good thing). So that is what I've been doing for the past six weeks. I bring her in and let her eat her dinner and some alfalfa while I do my usual routine of some grooming and work with her feet, but I save something for later. After she is done eating, I move her to the other side of the stall and tie her while I do whatever the thing is that I have left. Sometimes it is picking out her feet. Other times, it is some brushing. I also make sure to include lots of good scratches and petting.</p><p>When I first started doing it, I didn't actually tie the rope. I just looped it through the post I was tying around so there was tension, but if she got scared and pulled back, the rope would slide. That worked for a couple of times, until she figured it out and would set herself free in about 30 seconds. (Smart horses are sometimes a pain in the butt...eye roll.) So then I held the end of the rope so she couldn't pull it out and let her get into trouble. I let her get her head under the rope so there was pressure on her poll, and then I asked her to lower her head to get out of it. I let her back up or move to the side so much that the rope was tight and then I would ask her to move to release the pressure. Once I felt comfortable that she understood the rules, so to speak, of being tied, I actually tied a knot in the rope. </p><p>I don't leave her unattended at this point, but I do go in and out of the stall, so she learns that she needs to stay with the rope and not with me. I also move around her whole body and while I don't expect her to stand perfectly still, I do expect that she doesn't move in such a way that she is crowding me. So if she moves toward me at any point, I push her back over.</p><p>I keep the sessions very short. I started out just doing about a minute at a time, and now we are probably closer to five minutes. I don't do anything that she doesn't already feel comfortable with, and I try to do some things that I know she really likes. I don't want her to associate being tied with bad stuff happening to her. Of course, at some point, less comfortable stuff will happen, like clipping or bathing, but my goal is to create a solid foundation before I start introducing new stuff.</p><p>I know lots of people will use something called a Patience Pole to introduce young horses to being tied. And we do have a pole at the barn outside that could be used for that. My understanding is that the method involves tying the horse by itself to the pole and leaving them there for a couple of hours or however long it takes for the horse to realize that they are stuck there, so they might as well settle down and stand quietly. But I have to admit that that method doesn't resonate with me. I don't like the idea that the horse is left alone with no food and water and that it could feel trapped into compliance. (Obviously, this method could be modified to leave a haybag for the horse and keep buddies tied nearby, but again, I don't have access to a set-up for that.)<br /></p><p>One variation that I have seen that I like better involves tying several horses together along a fence line. The horses are spaced so that they are close, but not so close that they can kick or bite each other. Each one gets a hay bag and they are standing so that they can see the arena where the trainer works the horses. This method lets horses be together with their friends and have something to do. They can also watch training sessions, and for horses that learn by watching (I've known more than one that does!), that could be invaluable for helping them in their training. The problem with this method for me is that I don't have a place where I could tie several horses together (because I could totally use Freya and Star to help Donut).</p><p>I will likely use a variation of this method, though, for tying at the trailer. There is a good space at the barn where I could park the truck and trailer out of the way, but where the horses can still see things, and I can tie Freya and Star with Donut to keep her company. So once Donut starts being able to stand comfortably in her stall for 15-20 minutes at a time, I'll probably add in the trailer tying.</p><p>The thing I like so far about tying Donut in her stall is that it is a place that she is already very comfortable in. And I'm only doing things with her that she knows. And I'm keeping it short. So there is only one new variable - being tied. I think Warwick Schiller is the trainer I've heard say that the goal should be to introduce only one new variable at a time to make it more likely that the horse will not be too stressed and you'll have a positive outcome. I really like that way of approaching training. Sometimes it isn't possible and of course, things happen that can't be controlled. But whenever possible, I'm trying to take that approach with Donut.</p><p>Another benefit of being tied is that the horse does learn that their life is not totally their own. I think that is an important thing for young horses to learn, but it can be a harder lesson for some of them. Donut is definitely a horse who likes to do her own thing. She enjoys being around people and watching things and doing things, but more on her terms. So standing still for any length of time when she really wants to be moving is very hard for her. Which is why I'm super pleased with how she is doing with being tied. There has been zero drama, even the first time she hit the end of the rope and couldn't move more. I could see the momentary frustration she felt, but she didn't act out or pull back or kick. She waited. So I think that is a good sign that she is ready to slowly proceed to doing more work that involves a human-initiated thing instead of whatever she feels like doing.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdNYv8mMd5nyyKKWkl3BQ1RwKrfYDFqCMiLPDH-ODJTI1f3MQ3JiJ5Xf2nWSWvNOuLH08yLgZvSnPIfQugem9Du53Bh_DOBzNQgLqnYbKADY3tBcg9uK13XUfGlG-fm6LPD0emuE9JgSWxgbvuVRS0SxubfD2tZQs4UwCZidDIcAISkNtZhGZ-nxdArg=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdNYv8mMd5nyyKKWkl3BQ1RwKrfYDFqCMiLPDH-ODJTI1f3MQ3JiJ5Xf2nWSWvNOuLH08yLgZvSnPIfQugem9Du53Bh_DOBzNQgLqnYbKADY3tBcg9uK13XUfGlG-fm6LPD0emuE9JgSWxgbvuVRS0SxubfD2tZQs4UwCZidDIcAISkNtZhGZ-nxdArg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>But I don't think methods that involve wearing a horse down or trapping them are going to be a good fit for either me or her. I like the more gradual approach, and I'm lucky that I have all the time in the world. I know that isn't true for everyone, and I get that sometimes time matters. Certainly for professionals who are either being paid to put a horse under saddle or training horses to sell, time is money, and very few horses actually sell for a price that reflects all the time and resources that are put into them. They would be unaffordable for lots of people. </p><p>For example, if I sold Donut as a four year old trained to walk, trot, and canter under saddle, I would have to charge about $32,000 to recoup what I put into her. Yes, you read that right. Here's how I calculated the amount (assuming I've had her for three years):</p><p><span> </span>Board = 12 * $425 = $5,100 * 3 = $15,300</p><p><span> </span>Hoof trimming = 10 * 40 = $400 * 3 = $1,200</p><p><span> </span>Medical care (vaccinations, check-ups, deworming) = $300 * 3 = $900</p><p><span> </span>Supplements = 12 * 50 = $600 * 3 = $1,800</p><p><span> </span>Training Year 1 = 78 hours (30 min. 3x/wk) * $20 (a pittance for time) = $1,560</p><p><span> </span>Training Year 2 = 78 * $20 = $1,560</p><p><span> </span>Training Year 3 = 260 (1 hr 5x/wk) * $40 (cheapest rate I've seen for trainers to ride your horse in this area) = $10,400</p><p>So that adds up to $32,720. Note that these are prices for the area I live in. Other parts of the country are cheaper, I'm sure. And I've made some assumptions about how much time is spent with the horse and what they are getting for care. But I think I'm in the ball park. And it shows just how much value is put into bringing a young horse into under saddle work. And none of that amount takes into account bloodlines or athletic ability.<br /></p><p>I think I got a little off-topic here, but it is something I try to remember when I see how quickly a lot of young horses are put under saddle. Many trainers will take a lightly handled three year old and have them trained to walk, trot, and canter in just a few weeks. But they are usually skipping or rushing steps. Often that training doesn't include any ground work at all. In this area, full training board starts at about $1,200 a month and goes well above $2,000 a month for the nicer facilities and higher level trainers. It's something to think about if you are interested in buying a young horse versus an older horse, especially if you have to hire a professional to help, which you definitely should do if you don't feel comfortable doing it yourself. Even though I do most of the work with Donut myself, I still have check-ins with my regular instructor and will have regular lessons with her once she starts in-hand work to make sure I'm staying on track and to trouble-shoot any problems that come up.</p><p>Anyway, hopefully the work with Donut continues to be no big deal for her, and within a couple of months, I can start to introduce a bridle with a bit!<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-68709637310690160552022-01-24T06:29:00.000-08:002022-01-24T06:29:14.164-08:00My Life for a Fecal Sample<p>The first warning that my guardian angel would be working overtime yesterday was the sound of thudding coming from inside the run-in shed. The second warning was when I saw flashes of equine bodies moving at the speed of light through the window of said run-in shed. The third warning was when I saw Freya standing a safe distance away from the run-in shed, with an expression on her face like what I imagine when I see people comment with a picture of eating popcorn on controversial Facebook posts. Normally, she is the alpha mare of the herd and she is crowding the door of the shed, along with Donut. I should have found it suspicious that she wasn't there.</p><p>But I was focused on retrieving Donut so she could come hang out in her stall for what I hoped would be the shortest time possible to produce a fecal sample for the semi-annual parasite tests that my barn does. It's a good practice. Normally it isn't a big deal. In fact, I could have saved myself the trouble hours earlier in the day when one of the barn staff texted me and asked if I wanted her to rotate my horses through the stall to get the samples. I asked her to handle Star, but to leave Donut and Freya for me because I wanted to work with both of them anyway. That was at 8 am, when I had energy and plans and motivation. By 2:30, I was not feeling any of those things quite so much. Part of the problem was that I expected it to be a bright and sunny 40-degree day. A welcome break from the below-freezing highs we'd been experiencing. Alas, by the time I got to the barn, the sun was gone, and all that was left was a damp cold that sucked the will to live right out of me. It was cold, and I just wanted to go home.</p><p>But no, I was heading into what sounded like a disaster. And it really was. A new gelding had been introduced to what I think of as my herd of mares, specifically Freya, Donut, and Star, a few weeks ago. He came from a field of rambunctious geldings and was used to engaging in hard-core stallion-like play on a daily basis. His owner as well as the owners of several other horses in the field were understandably concerned about this behavior because it had led to innumerable wounds, lacerations, and puncture wounds, many of which required veterinary visits and unwanted expenses. Another gelding had lived with the mares quite successfully for months before moving to a new home, and I think the assumption was that any gelding would be fine.</p><p>If you own mares, then you know that isn't true. Not every gelding can live with mares and perhaps more importantly for this particular gelding, most mares do not engage in rough-housing. That is stallion behavior. Mares kick and bite things for fun. Thus, geldings who wish to engage in body slams are going to find themselves ostracized pretty quickly.</p><p>I will say that Freya and Donut give this gelding peace as long as he is quiet. (Star tries to ignore him, which is her standard MO for all other horses.) The problem is that he doesn't want to be quiet. He wants to play. Donut will run with him for a minute or two, but even her youth doesn't lend itself to the kind of rough play this gelding really wants. So, every day around feeding time, he is desperate to get out of the field. I think he is ever hopeful that he will be taken to his old field and his regular buddies. But alas, he simply goes to his stall, where he spends 16 hours accumulating more energy.</p><p>By yesterday afternoon, the gelding had escalated his behavior quite a bit. He was flying around the run-in shed, quite literally bouncing off the walls...and Donut. Donut, being Donut and not Freya, was not mature enough to understand that the solution to this problem was getting out of the run-in shed, so I could halter her and lead her through the gate farther down the field. (Although this solution probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Gemma told me that she tried it a few days ago and only survived because she was leading Freya who defended herself and Gemma from the gelding, who tried to run them down. Note that Gemma is no longer allowed to go to the field without an adult.) Donut truly believes that her needs and desires take precedence above any other horse's, especially if it involves food or her person, which unfortunately on this day, was me. So she was doing her best to hold her ground at the door of the run-in shed, and taking a bit of a beating for it.</p><p>My first and most immediate thought was to get her out. She was clearly not safe. I tried opening the door and using my lead rope to move the gelding back. Normally that is very effective. Yesterday, it nearly got me killed the first time. The gelding was in such a state of emotion that he could not recognize any commands or body language from me. So I got back out of the run-in shed, latched the door just in time to avoid it being slammed open, and decided on a new tactic.</p><p>Donut worked with me and while the gelding made a lap around the shed, she stuck her head over the door so I could slip her halter on, open the door, and evacuate her. It took maybe three seconds, and we almost didn't make it. So it was with a great sigh of relief that I latched the door and ducked to avoid getting hit in the head by the gelding's head as he frantically tried to get out.</p><p>Thinking that the current problem had been resolved, my brain started to process the situation. Regretfully, while my brain was ready to settle down and analyze, Donut's brain was not. I have no idea how long she'd been in the run-in shed with the excited gelding, but probably more than a couple of minutes. So she was frazzled and rattled and traumatized. It would be nice if Donut could process her trauma by meditating. Instead she processes by moving her body. Specifically, she likes to be as far up in the air as possible. And if she can get all four feet off the ground at the same time, that is even better.</p><p>So it was really an out-of-the-frying-pan-and-into-the-fire kind of situation for me as I watched with a mixture of terror and awe as my little Donut (who is becoming not so little) reared, leaped into the air like a gazelle, and galloped in tiny circles around me, slipping and nearly falling in the mud several times. I don't think I have ever seen that much athleticism from a horse attached to a human. If it could be harnessed, I think Donut has the potential to be an Olympic-level athlete in something. (Preferably with someone else riding her...)<br /></p><p>The bad news was that all that rearing was putting Donut's front feet significantly closer to my head than my head felt comfortable with. The good news is that there were plenty of people watching by that time, so I was sure one of them could call 911 if I was injured. Interestingly, no one offered to come help me...</p><p>I'm not sure how long it took to get Donut from the run-in shed to the barn. It's only about 800 - 1,000 feet, but it felt like two miles. We were having trouble making any forward progress because rearing isn't really a great way to move forward and the tiny circles, while very fast, were mostly in place. Eventually, though, I figured out a strategy. When I lunge Freya using Science of Motion techniques, one of the things we do is go in a circle and then straight. Circle and then straight. Sometimes the straight is only a few steps, but at this point, I was willing to try anything.<br /></p><p>So that is what we did. Donut would go up in the air and bounce around and then circle. I'd put my hand on her shoulder to remind her that there was a human attached to her and then see if I could influence her forward a bit. It worked, although we still had pretty slow progress.</p><p>The other thing that we had the opportunity to work on was getting a rope wrapped around Donut's leg. Luckily, I'd already done some preliminary work on it in controlled settings, so when it happened now, Donut had a frame of reference. What was happening was that despite my best efforts, sometimes when Donut was rearing, she would get one leg on the other side of the lead rope while she was in the air and then come down and try to spin, thus wrapping the rope around her leg. (In my defense, I was also trying to avoid getting kicked in the head. I'm not that great at multi-tasking.) I would have let go if she'd panicked, but she didn't. The one thing that went right in this whole mess was that she didn't freak out when she felt the pressure of the rope. In fact, it broke her reactivity for a few seconds, so I could unwrap the rope.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGrPOys8C0zHKv6BPv1WMo6VAqoXuTRS2HzewOXLzhOz-ig8-EnsBOX4TrdgGOafroEj4m-2-afqc8t6yJeXxgvFR5yuAhHmRKekKbCGRfd-nPbBqYOuJwvUerrhZSzc_KyX7Y-a_n0DtSLWbRjQxCWtVy4Z4qdHUpJz6L7D8VO7Px_xTlo42-EOjF2w=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiGrPOys8C0zHKv6BPv1WMo6VAqoXuTRS2HzewOXLzhOz-ig8-EnsBOX4TrdgGOafroEj4m-2-afqc8t6yJeXxgvFR5yuAhHmRKekKbCGRfd-nPbBqYOuJwvUerrhZSzc_KyX7Y-a_n0DtSLWbRjQxCWtVy4Z4qdHUpJz6L7D8VO7Px_xTlo42-EOjF2w=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I hand-graze Donut every time I handle her. Often I use that time to drape the lead rope over her body and gently wrap it under her fetlocks or around her hocks. I was doing it as preliminary work for ground driving, but it was potentially a life saver because I didn't have a panicking horse with a rope around her leg.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>Eventually we did make it to the barn, and Donut started to settle. I walked her to her stall and she discovered a beet pulp mash and alfalfa hay, which made everything right in her world again. Meanwhile, I needed to sit down and contemplate my life choices...</p><p>It is becoming clear that the gelding is not a great fit for the field he is in. I've already talked to the trainer that works with the horse and she is open to finding a solution, so I feel confident that we will figure something out. And I'm trying to figure out how to give my guardian angel a raise...</p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-7439281990685920462022-01-17T06:37:00.001-08:002022-01-17T06:37:31.990-08:00Winter is here!<p>I hear people complaining a lot about the cold or the snow this time of year. Which I think is hysterical, having grown up in a place where temperatures can fall significantly below zero with wind on top of that. A place where winter seems like it lasts for about six months out of the year and the cold becomes its own entity. </p><p>I remember one Christmas when I was growing up. My family was driving to visit my grandma for the day. The actual temperature was about -35 degrees, and the car heater couldn't overcome the cold seeping into the car. So we wore our winter boots and parkas and hats and gloves for the whole three and a half hour drive (and then again on the way home).</p><p>Or the time I was in college in Iowa and headed home for Christmas break. There was a big storm that encompassed multiple states. The biggest problem was getting through Minnesota. There was so much snow that even on an interstate highway with every college kid in the tri-state area trying to find their way home, it was unclear exactly where the road was. And it was so cold that I had to pull over periodically to scrape the ice off my windshield because the defrost couldn't keep up with it. I made it to a friend's house in Fargo, ND around 1 am (I think I'd probably been on the road around 10-12 hours at that point) and stayed overnight. I think both interstates out of Fargo were closed not long after I got off the road. (Yes, that is a thing. Roads literally have barriers that can be closed if the weather is bad. It doesn't happen that often, but it does happen. Here in Virginia, I guess the Department of Transportation relies on accidents to close the roads...) The next day my friend helped me shovel my car out of about three feet of snow, only for me to discover that the alternator had died. So I had to stay another 2-3 days to get the car repaired before continuing on for the next 300 miles to my parents' house.</p><p>These are just a couple of examples of what my experience with winter has been like, so when people complain because it is 38 degrees and cloudy outside, I laugh to myself. Or sometimes out loud. Because it just doesn't compare to what I grew up with.</p><p>Of course, everyone adapts to the location where they live, and I suspect even I would be intimidated by winter in New England states. I've seen pictures and the sheer amount of snow is mind-boggling. On the other hand, I wonder what it would be like to live there. Now that I appreciate the slower times of the year, I imagine how nice it would be for nature to insist that people slow down.</p><p>We've had a couple of really warm and notably unsnowy winters here in Virginia. Thus, the population was lulled into thinking that Virginia had been converted into North Carolina. December was full of 60 and even 70 degree days and zero snow, setting an unrealistic tone for the winter. So we were caught off guard when we got almost 11 inches of snow where I live and more than that in other areas. And it wasn't just any snow, it was heavy, wet snow that took down trees. And the trees took down power lines (because in Virginia, it apparently makes sense to run power lines through big trees). And I suspect the rest of the country watched the train wreck that was I-95, where an accident involving six semi-trucks started a chain reaction that defied belief and led to a complete blockage of the interstate in both directions for something like 27 hours, leaving people stranded with no way to get out or be rescued or even eat.</p><p>After two years of mild winters, no one could believe that we were actually getting real winter. I admit to being one them. After all, it was literally 65 degrees outside the day before it happened. I couldn't imagine how snow would even accumulate on such warm ground. But as the temperature dropped quickly overnight, and the snow started, accumulate is exactly what it did.</p><p>I spent most of the day beating the trees in our yard with a broom, trying to save them from the ever-increasing weight of the snow that was bending them to the ground, while my husband and daughter cleared snow from the cars, driveway, and sidewalk. I honestly didn't think either our dogwood or our magnolia would make it. But they did. All of our trees survived. But many other trees did not. Evergreens were particularly vulnerable, but I saw some trees that were probably either oak or maple that just had the trunk standing. All of the branches collapsed and fell to the ground, as if the tree simply given up.</p><p>By about 2 pm, the storm was over. In mere hours, Mother Nature had wreaked a havoc that we haven't seen in a long time. Perhaps by way of apology for the devastation, the sun even came out and started melting the snow. I took that as my cue to head out to the barn. I wasn't sure I would make it. The horror stories about the roads were still coming in. But I figured if the road was blocked, I would just turn around and come home. I knew the horses would be OK, but I still wanted to check on them. None of them were wearing blankets and the barn owner had told me Star was shivering that morning, although Freya and Donut seemed fine. I asked the owner to bring Star in, so she could spend the day in Donut's stall warming up, and I wanted to assess the situation. (I couldn't put blankets on the night before because it was so warm. They would have been sweating like crazy. In hindsight, I should have gone out to the barn at midnight-ish to put the blankets on, but I really wasn't sure where the line was for either Star or Freya in terms of when they would get cold. So note to self for future events where it is 65 degrees and then 20 degrees 12 hours later.)<br /></p><p>Amazingly, I didn't have any issues getting out to the barn. Our neighborhood hadn't been plowed at all, but the four-wheel drive in my truck handled the snow like a hot knife through butter. After that, the roads were clear. No abandoned vehicles. No accidents. And no traffic. Everywhere, trees were drooping to the ground and power lines were at risk. It was a very surreal experience. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWNO8DXiNCdtQwKmjc-geO-39EfgUT8YA-8-J-_42IOLKUf5SlrAeBUhf928bwyI4jRK0Ghzyue8RI19_eajQ_w-sFT_T69xBJqKi7GrLkeyO1uaJFJ1soPY8sQ1UI9O0Fkg7QT7fJQprKdfv5IjgFI2b6DHdHnZ8zh1TJi00Zle6W9hPZdvgVD52shQ=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWNO8DXiNCdtQwKmjc-geO-39EfgUT8YA-8-J-_42IOLKUf5SlrAeBUhf928bwyI4jRK0Ghzyue8RI19_eajQ_w-sFT_T69xBJqKi7GrLkeyO1uaJFJ1soPY8sQ1UI9O0Fkg7QT7fJQprKdfv5IjgFI2b6DHdHnZ8zh1TJi00Zle6W9hPZdvgVD52shQ=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road just before getting to the barn. You can't see them, but there are power lines in these trees. I was torn between seeing how beautiful the snow was and terrified that one of the trees would fall on me.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I was happy to find Star in the barn, looking warm and munching on hay. I brushed her to make her coat fluffy and then put her new blanket on before turning her back out.</p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjH0Q-sXB-_4nt5iHCmOjA6bRIQ_pa5SNKvJ8C5FHqGdDvYokNeyhd8LZoCJm8PvMrkuo3vNAg4P239HTBqZ0KotS5QuDM8Jhn_M5xsSlev-m24tjLXMyvbUx_BJLqBfQ_lyzwl0WVg__yMGSEfbbc6t8t-3B-DgshSnlSAdtZ71dM1ATXdqNCzsfDRYg=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjH0Q-sXB-_4nt5iHCmOjA6bRIQ_pa5SNKvJ8C5FHqGdDvYokNeyhd8LZoCJm8PvMrkuo3vNAg4P239HTBqZ0KotS5QuDM8Jhn_M5xsSlev-m24tjLXMyvbUx_BJLqBfQ_lyzwl0WVg__yMGSEfbbc6t8t-3B-DgshSnlSAdtZ71dM1ATXdqNCzsfDRYg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Star takes everything in stride!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPXXcTtC6zT7zqcJ1IWUbtZOxDplc7qFe--p5M3jMYZfjAqS5D6chExYEqulUB4RCTKB5w9OiJg-gvibUtQNHKky1kRgtsZTGISIJdCSViMQ94eW93jn6kOvu-HI2E4eaO9Cxh3r8NppayoQRcr9oR8v0aPyGGtb7amrXs9KZuTIn8USNOuBB_D1CtFA=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPXXcTtC6zT7zqcJ1IWUbtZOxDplc7qFe--p5M3jMYZfjAqS5D6chExYEqulUB4RCTKB5w9OiJg-gvibUtQNHKky1kRgtsZTGISIJdCSViMQ94eW93jn6kOvu-HI2E4eaO9Cxh3r8NppayoQRcr9oR8v0aPyGGtb7amrXs9KZuTIn8USNOuBB_D1CtFA=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How fun is the pattern on Star's blanket! It makes me happy to look at it!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>Next, I brought Freya in and did the same. Gemma really wanted her to have a blanket because it was supposed to be in the low 20s overnight and even colder the next day. The horses had handled temps in the teens already with no blankets, but I ended up putting the blanket on. Mostly because I felt guilty that Star had gotten chilled. And yes, I know Freya did not get chilled, but guilt is a funny thing...<br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgb0ga8qOmQuFzcgCXiRmq0C1OA-S5Rs2UTsHgqJi73SWe34czL1pl9SNO5qd5eblEZ6vf-XslxSGIqr11jdlnk9ydGXl59yGuA7Cf_27dYQnxwEjVVofD7vWq7k4bvR8QH6VnJjUlBomIiEpFo2xAG1c0PfmUX7YsA77O5cG3kM646vdpPErtN8ephmg=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgb0ga8qOmQuFzcgCXiRmq0C1OA-S5Rs2UTsHgqJi73SWe34czL1pl9SNO5qd5eblEZ6vf-XslxSGIqr11jdlnk9ydGXl59yGuA7Cf_27dYQnxwEjVVofD7vWq7k4bvR8QH6VnJjUlBomIiEpFo2xAG1c0PfmUX7YsA77O5cG3kM646vdpPErtN8ephmg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freya's blanket is so colorful, I'm convinced she can be seen from space! LOL!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>I didn't feel the least bit guilty about Donut, though. She has never worn a blanket in her short life and has seemed to handle whatever nature can throw at her just fine. Also, early that morning, I had gotten a picture from the barn owner showing Donut on the wrong side of the fence. For the second time, she had broken out of the field. She has figured out how to pop the fence boards. She only escapes to a place she can't get out of, which is sort of bizarre, but I can only imagine what she would do with a blanket. She routinely picks them up off the ground and tries to play with them, and she demolished a saddle pad that she somehow snagged from a saddle rack outside her stall. I think it took less than five minutes. So no blankets for Donut unless it is a medical emergency or she develops a better sense of respect for my stuff.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl4WKWGg-O8BEYgJg0ny1GQXx0uozOEIgEYm6CAwn1HRafF5ENseF9ahY0J4Ggs1rMDNayFFndUJADgs5NZraTT30c8besDtAuBTbSkw50lHyOXC0AKoztejS3LWiQ_IvIxr4fKhwSEeq7VL4XxlOHolzDUpuR-UzR__pRniC4OezdDyXwCBsF1uBI8Q=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl4WKWGg-O8BEYgJg0ny1GQXx0uozOEIgEYm6CAwn1HRafF5ENseF9ahY0J4Ggs1rMDNayFFndUJADgs5NZraTT30c8besDtAuBTbSkw50lHyOXC0AKoztejS3LWiQ_IvIxr4fKhwSEeq7VL4XxlOHolzDUpuR-UzR__pRniC4OezdDyXwCBsF1uBI8Q=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut is perfectly happy with no blanket.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>After I was certain the horses were fine and well-fed, I headed back home. It took days for the thousands (or maybe even tens of thousands) of households to get their power back, especially because we got another mini-snow of a few inches a day or two later. But eventually the snow melted and life returned to normal. For a short while...</p><p>We had more snow yesterday. Not nearly as much as a couple of weeks ago, but this time, people took it more seriously. And I prepped the horses the day before because I wasn't sure if I would be able to get out to the barn. In fact, I spent all day doing stuff to keep my mind off the fact that I wasn't supposed to go to the barn. I was going to be a responsible citizen and stay off the roads during the storm so the plows could do their thing. I painted. I printed pictures. I hung out with Gemma. I read. I spent too much time on Facebook. I made chili. I cleaned one corner of the living room while averting my eyes from the other three corners so as not to be overwhelmed with the amount of clutter that still needed to be picked up.</p><p>But by 1:30, I had reached the point where I was either going to have to fold laundry (the horror!) or go to the barn. The snow had only started at 12:30, and there wasn't much accumulation yet. I finally decided to go because I knew I'd obsess otherwise.</p><p>The roads were not too bad at that point. Traffic was light and plows were out, although it didn't appear that they were actually doing much plowing. Visibility was OK at about a half mile, and honestly, it wasn't the kind of weather that I would categorize as a storm. It wasn't nothing, but it didn't seem dangerous.</p><p>This time I brought a sidekick. We got a new dog about six months ago. She is a rescue from South Carolina, and I'm pretty sure she'd never seen snow until a couple of weeks ago. She decided that it really isn't her cup of tea, but she loves car rides more than anything. She wasn't able to get out in the yard as much as she is used to because of the cold and the snow, so I wanted to give her something to do instead. She happily hopped in the truck with me and was a lovely companion - no backseat driving!:)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdW8-bKTU8iX_x-vKk29N8wFAo53MUK36ItBoBobcpo2UlB9zQG0YYDehHYflwx5sL1Fwbi6bSQ_RiVVMxcSeyfwXz1j1xBDlGRihLNa7KSLsvxuXONezwZbI_Qwt7CSo43DjvGL3SmBi9lHMEChyPdC6sV_v3RuWXaU2LWDnPkyZtWG9Z-uUFtjuCzA=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdW8-bKTU8iX_x-vKk29N8wFAo53MUK36ItBoBobcpo2UlB9zQG0YYDehHYflwx5sL1Fwbi6bSQ_RiVVMxcSeyfwXz1j1xBDlGRihLNa7KSLsvxuXONezwZbI_Qwt7CSo43DjvGL3SmBi9lHMEChyPdC6sV_v3RuWXaU2LWDnPkyZtWG9Z-uUFtjuCzA=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, her doggie blanket matches Star's:)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4OrPBmLcktuwKZmbXPGpyWEkRuLzRqd5Jh_lqusJCZgDgM6Uahoy9qrkHIqZkic0V9MJvnDxY1jYpu8y0p0U9L6zqEjZxO-6duBK0Pkb_K0E_Qy22rXOX_gLdIuSBnWQU0dc_-Rs7XcJ0iIzDDs2dnwSsaSpt9RoleZiahYEPMsJcXycKmHotWtiMSQ=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4OrPBmLcktuwKZmbXPGpyWEkRuLzRqd5Jh_lqusJCZgDgM6Uahoy9qrkHIqZkic0V9MJvnDxY1jYpu8y0p0U9L6zqEjZxO-6duBK0Pkb_K0E_Qy22rXOX_gLdIuSBnWQU0dc_-Rs7XcJ0iIzDDs2dnwSsaSpt9RoleZiahYEPMsJcXycKmHotWtiMSQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This time the road to the barn was not as pretty, but still quite passable.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>I got to the barn in good time, and found all the horses perfectly happy eating at the round bale. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl-DoFHDrd3EbwMkHHz1XEKIGhKxZHIp6gOCODbbTpaJol79VQjhc3kqnV47LHSnb0Pbitb0knvDI6mAzxqplskBlhIDuQoYi4dUgt46kyNesirIDLEB91TAjAqVEzjDQSTYVXaH4sMV2N_RbkVmzmsTbsMl5gsRZ8uw72C6QMcBO56-1WDl3Q0_hAZw=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhl-DoFHDrd3EbwMkHHz1XEKIGhKxZHIp6gOCODbbTpaJol79VQjhc3kqnV47LHSnb0Pbitb0knvDI6mAzxqplskBlhIDuQoYi4dUgt46kyNesirIDLEB91TAjAqVEzjDQSTYVXaH4sMV2N_RbkVmzmsTbsMl5gsRZ8uw72C6QMcBO56-1WDl3Q0_hAZw=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What blizzard?" they seem to say.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKj-m74nkMDSQFZtlmwyPHQE4c7Qqm4bas5cVfJ_jvQz0VppGKkUJSBpYH9HrooyaJ9auCZUWdTjJcvuGVWJSIioEpg510XSOpIxpsEgx1TO2uuIZyMitEOuEhxdfpihhNgsrzw7C15kr48lpdo4InIQIjQz72CvJI3hdMSgGo3pKv-K3vDpiUnse5_A=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKj-m74nkMDSQFZtlmwyPHQE4c7Qqm4bas5cVfJ_jvQz0VppGKkUJSBpYH9HrooyaJ9auCZUWdTjJcvuGVWJSIioEpg510XSOpIxpsEgx1TO2uuIZyMitEOuEhxdfpihhNgsrzw7C15kr48lpdo4InIQIjQz72CvJI3hdMSgGo3pKv-K3vDpiUnse5_A=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donut was not bothered in the slightest bit by the crust of snow forming on her back.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Because they all seemed comfortable, I gave them some treats and headed home. I had gotten my horse fix for the day and I had chili on the stove!</p><p>I know that lots of people are sad about the winter weather, but I'm thankful for the rest and the lack of bugs. And I won't even mind if it snows again next weekend!<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-24619244155134928462022-01-03T06:05:00.001-08:002022-01-03T06:05:59.780-08:00As darkness falls...<p>As the light slowly seeps out of the sky, birds silence their chirping, chickens hop onto their roosting poles, ducks slip into the water, dogs snuggle into their beds, horses munch on their hay, foxes begin their search for food, and the air grows cooler. </p><p>I envied Gemma just a bit as I watched her with Freya. Gemma's most fervent wish for the last day of the year was to watch the sun set with Freya by her side. We timed it just perfectly, finishing up working with all the horses minutes before the official sunset at 4:59 pm. Gemma led Freya out to a patch of grass by the arena to settle in. </p><p>Unlike many nights at the barn when the light is almost unreal, this particular sunset was not spectacular. The sky was full of clouds that obscured the light, and darkness fell without ceremony. I guess nature doesn't pay much attention to our human celebrations.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh32TmhaLQr-CuSjtgQ9rVUWHrNsy8eCPbEWRkMjqHECIQXX423Zr-wlVr3WuwlYvjMV1ManI7AKdfrbo6iMVcgK7CQcgdde6nHGrqeruAq2tBzRM7BtVXSKeiIOLFwop0TgL0b0heuIMwMk8fPhF7vy0K_bV_PO9FWt0L9O_E1GSvjKg5GQw5NBcNERQ=s2929" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2929" data-original-width="1953" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh32TmhaLQr-CuSjtgQ9rVUWHrNsy8eCPbEWRkMjqHECIQXX423Zr-wlVr3WuwlYvjMV1ManI7AKdfrbo6iMVcgK7CQcgdde6nHGrqeruAq2tBzRM7BtVXSKeiIOLFwop0TgL0b0heuIMwMk8fPhF7vy0K_bV_PO9FWt0L9O_E1GSvjKg5GQw5NBcNERQ=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div> <p></p><p>As I picked up our boxes of brushes and put away tack, I expected Gemma to return to the barn pretty quickly to put Freya back out in the field. But she didn't. I took my time cleaning up and puttering, but they still didn't return. I checked on them from the barn, and Freya was happily munching on grass while Gemma was gathering something. I smiled to myself, because that is what Gemma spends a lot of time doing. I'm constantly finding bags of nature in our house. They are full of grass, weeds, seeds, acorns, pine cones, leaves, flowers, twigs, rocks, and sometimes mold because they've been closed up for awhile. I figured she must have found a pretty flower or a four-leaf clover that attracted her attention.</p><p>As time went on, it finally occurred to me that maybe Gemma was going to need a reminder to come in. It was almost fully dark, and I was ready to head home to warmth and dinner. I walked out to the arena to tell Gemma it was time to come in, and she excitedly told me about the dandelions she had been collecting for Freya and she wondered if Freya would like them. I assured her that Freya would love them, but she needed to stop collecting them and take Freya out to the field.</p><p>Gemma said she needed to collect a few more and then she would lead Freya to her field. This not being my first day as Gemma's mother, I suspected I would need to jump start the process. So I got in my truck and drove out to the arena for a final reminder that it was time to go home. I gave Gemma an escort to ensure her continued forward momentum, but as we passed the barn on the way to the field, Gemma gasped and told me I'd have to hold Freya. When I asked why, she said she needed to put food out for a cat that was abandoned at the farm. He only comes out after dark. So while she put cat food out, I led Freya to the field and sent her off to assess the damage that had been done while she'd been gone. (A new horse was added to the field a few days ago, and she is still quite suspicious of him. She was horrified to discover that Donut was hanging out with him and Star was just standing there, not caring about this enemy incursion. She had to run everyone around for a minute to remind Donut that there was to be no consorting with this potential murderer, that Star was supposed to DO SOMETHING besides just eat, and that under no circumstances was the new horse to interact with anybody.)</p><p>I met Gemma back at the truck and we headed home, with Gemma feeling fulfilled that she had spent quality time at the barn with the horses and spent the sunset with Freya and fed the cat that everyone else feeds too, but that really isn't fed unless she sees it with her own eyes.</p><p>I wasn't necessarily feeling fulfilled though. I was missing my big Friesian and my constant quest to ride on New Year's Day even though the weather always sucks and everyone's plans always fall through. It looked like that would happen again this year too, with rain predicted for most of the day.</p><p>The next day, I ended up at the barn by myself. Gemma had plans to climb with her dad, and while I wished I could have spent the rainy day at home, I had horses that needed to be cared for. Star and Freya are both battling significant thrush infections, and I had a new treatment that needed to be deployed. (I swear I will write all about it soon!)<br /></p><p>The barn was full of boarders checking on their horses and choruses of "Happy New Year!" abounded. I brought Freya in first and gave her a special snack per the instructions of a 9-year-old and treated her hooves. Then I put her back out and got Star for her snack and treatment. I ended up chatting a bit with other boarders and hearing how Christmases went. So it was after sunset before I turned Star back out in the field.</p><p>Usually, Donut and Freya are waiting for me when I bring Star back. Donut is always hopeful that I will be bringing more food, and Freya likes to keep an eye on Donut. (Which is probably a good thing, because Donut does get herself in trouble sometimes.) But all the horses, including the new one, were at the round bale, happily munching on hay as darkness fell.</p><p>It was nice to have the run-in shed to ourselves as I led Star through the door and slipped her halter off. Normally, she immediately heads out to the field or to the water tank for a drink, but tonight she didn't. She stayed with me. And I remembered a night that seems very long ago when Nimo did that too. Back then, I guessed that he wanted me to do some bodywork, and it seems that he did. There were a couple of other times he did the same thing, and I responded the same way.</p><p>I wondered if Star might want some bodywork, so I started the Bladder Meridian Technique at her poll and worked my way through her entire left side. Part of my brain was concerned that the other horses would come and interrupt us, but they didn't. I settled into the work as the light disappeared. I felt the warmth of Star's body through her winter coat. I could hear her deep breathing and occasional sighs as my fingers moved over her body.</p><p>When I was done with the left side, I moved to the right side. Star gave me a little nuzzle with her nose as if to tell me to keep going. So I took a deep breath and focused on the technique. More sighs came from Star as I worked through her right side.</p><p>After I was finished, I stepped back and looked at Star's head. She turned to look at me, then shook her head, farted, and sauntered off into the darkness. I smiled at the fart and was left with a sense of peace and contentment that I haven't felt in a long time. It wasn't until the next day when it occurred to me that maybe Star hadn't needed the bodywork for her. Maybe she knew I needed it for me.<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-730371154836519092021-12-27T04:49:00.001-08:002021-12-27T04:49:43.300-08:00Christmas<p>Every year I struggle with getting through the Christmas season. It seems like there is so much to do, and never enough time to do it. But I used to mock the people who started their shopping in July or did their decorating in November - I thought that doing Christmas things outside of December was inappropriate. I mean, I don't even know why I thought that. It seems ridiculous now. I've come to realize that starting early may be the only way to get everything done without having a mental breakdown.</p><p>This year, I vowed to start early, and I did. At the end of October, I began diligently shopping for gifts and mentally prepared myself for the tasks I needed to get done. And I really did work at it. Normally, I'm a huge procrastinator, but I didn't procrastinate about anything. And when December arrived, I felt really good about where I was. My Christmas cards were ordered, I had already made some gifts and I had all the supplies for the gifts I still wanted to make, all my shopping was done, we had the tree, I had done some decorating in the house, and I had a plan to accomplish all the remaining things on my to-do list that seemed very manageable.<br /></p><p></p><p>And up until a few days before Christmas, I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I had only a few gifts left to wrap and then the cooking/baking for Christmas Eve and Christmas. Yay for me!</p><p>But then I ran out of gas and motivation. By the time Christmas Eve arrived, I still hadn't wrapped three gifts, and the thought of actually going through Christmas was a little unappealing. All I could think was that it would be so nice if I could take a break from Christmas for a couple of weeks. (It's possible that I started repeating the line from The Grinch - "I must stop Christmas from coming. But how?) My husband said that I must only have so much Christmas in me, and I had run out - LOL!<br /></p><p>Which kind of sucked. I do love Christmas, and I had really been looking forward to enjoying the time this year. But in the end, I felt sort of bleh. And I overdid the whole cooking and baking thing too. I spent too much time in the kitchen and not enough just sitting in front of the tree and enjoying the day. So lesson learned, I guess. Starting early has its benefits, but I can't keep steadily doing Christmas stuff for eight weeks. </p><p>I'll have to come up with a new plan for next year that somehow involves starting early but also leaves room for me to take a break. I'm curious to know how you get through the season. Do you start early? Do you reduce the number of things you do? Do you procrastinate and then give one big effort a few days before Christmas?</p><p>I will say that the one fun thing about Christmas was seeing Gemma's face as she opened her horse-related presents. She had one thing in particular that she desperately wanted - a leather halter with yellow padding and nameplates for Freya and the name of the farm we board at. Of course, as far as I could tell, leather halters with yellow padding are not something that is widely available, so I got in touch with <a href="https://www.promoplace.com/21073/stores/tayloredtack" target="_blank">Taylored Tack</a>, which made all my endurance tack for Nimo. Amanda Taylor, who makes the tack, is delightful to work with and does high-quality work, so I didn't hesitate to order a synthetic halter in a leather color with yellow padding. I ordered nameplates separately and put them on myself (actually not as easy as it looks...). The halter turned out great and Gemma loves it!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5IzRvlSwYfXRLQKeck5nh8wQhVg_HCq1IExhf5PPUpp6UpVjrieiMDORbA-5BSEOKoQnycx6dlngv8xLrNZ7_Yb61OEnIrbasJEuNc4LfubzQyx4eWNjHx9M9F9L3-y4D9OPCYuV9dBc21ctBMM2LSPUux936J3CU4vgYz_PLnwBT8iAmXRKwaWkFXw=s4928" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4928" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5IzRvlSwYfXRLQKeck5nh8wQhVg_HCq1IExhf5PPUpp6UpVjrieiMDORbA-5BSEOKoQnycx6dlngv8xLrNZ7_Yb61OEnIrbasJEuNc4LfubzQyx4eWNjHx9M9F9L3-y4D9OPCYuV9dBc21ctBMM2LSPUux936J3CU4vgYz_PLnwBT8iAmXRKwaWkFXw=w400-h265" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>I also got Gemma a custom cooler for Freya. (We've been using an old one of Nimo's, which fits Freya surprisingly well. Her blanket size is 80/81, and Nimo's was 84. But I knew Gemma would want her own stuff.) Her favorite color is yellow right now with green being her second favorite. (She has all the colors ranked in order - lol!). But she still loves rainbow colors too. So I worked with <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/HeatherWearHorse" target="_blank">HeatherWearHorse</a> to put together a lovely fleece cooler with rainbow fabric, yellow fabric, and green trim.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSMJpm7ZaejBtDWa7kqrT4nwNltBsZtW3qnl4MuUN_klt9CI_-wOm8vIa8x4MoecfOEJrKSx6oEXrBNqUCZyUI7E9NrksH551LzTOV_3zx1x9V2rpSD5_WuFVYrNcxtTyCcJ7tj4o-gzAa4qet7oKgKRKuB7B0aLmLGYEbPwCwiaPZ7DC84acbNkyvCw=s4928" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4928" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSMJpm7ZaejBtDWa7kqrT4nwNltBsZtW3qnl4MuUN_klt9CI_-wOm8vIa8x4MoecfOEJrKSx6oEXrBNqUCZyUI7E9NrksH551LzTOV_3zx1x9V2rpSD5_WuFVYrNcxtTyCcJ7tj4o-gzAa4qet7oKgKRKuB7B0aLmLGYEbPwCwiaPZ7DC84acbNkyvCw=w400-h265" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>A friend got her a <a href="https://www.horsebums.com/" target="_blank">Horse Bums</a> saddle bag (yellow of course, but with peacock fabric trim and a purple zipper) and her mother-in-law got her one of the <a href="https://www.ridingwarehouse.com/Weatherbeeta_Prime_Ombre_All_Purpose_Saddle_Pad/descpage-WPOM.html" target="_blank">Weatherbeeta ombre saddle pads</a>. And Santa brought her a <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/921638839/rainbow-browband-bling-browband-for?click_key=aff35d8e4d626696d537a0ee73138973a5585515%3A921638839&click_sum=2130d404&ref=shop_home_feat_2&frs=1&sts=1" target="_blank">rainbow browband</a> for Star's bridle. So I hiked with Gemma and Star out on some trails at the barn so Gemma could try out all that new stuff too. </p><p> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiWF1hnG7EommyHX-uiRXj0FFMsI0ekenAyDszChWwoFzmajUByMEOCYfUe5qEQkulwPOwQInsfPRLH4SxRJyijlIZBHRwtVgcszd6YMxXVNfE3J8Pi9AhVnhxWxPpa-Y8-0eKbRCfR_COjO59afZvZzv9yRBty8-t9wf5nq-HF51f-68jKSxP4kKLhKg=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiWF1hnG7EommyHX-uiRXj0FFMsI0ekenAyDszChWwoFzmajUByMEOCYfUe5qEQkulwPOwQInsfPRLH4SxRJyijlIZBHRwtVgcszd6YMxXVNfE3J8Pi9AhVnhxWxPpa-Y8-0eKbRCfR_COjO59afZvZzv9yRBty8-t9wf5nq-HF51f-68jKSxP4kKLhKg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /> <br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhn3qmLUqY3oddWXa6SU9QkHxmWuKWGjqDb-KlDTlf0opKytfpMk7m75D8Hin1stshuj1nb3O8lyqNtNRcxDxOCA33QYy6KH7gSlwOlnmnYBgPbSLc3mR0iF1OgHv6CaHbUiRgw_ifPVIZic-N1QuZPDVTNCF6ZPJZ4k7bTqvpASHcYHWiKawTzWat-zw=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhn3qmLUqY3oddWXa6SU9QkHxmWuKWGjqDb-KlDTlf0opKytfpMk7m75D8Hin1stshuj1nb3O8lyqNtNRcxDxOCA33QYy6KH7gSlwOlnmnYBgPbSLc3mR0iF1OgHv6CaHbUiRgw_ifPVIZic-N1QuZPDVTNCF6ZPJZ4k7bTqvpASHcYHWiKawTzWat-zw=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>It was a bittersweet day for me. The temperature got up to 72 degrees, so it was an absolutely beautiful day, and the trails were new - the barn has been putting them in over the last few months. And I was so happy that Gemma had a great horse to ride. But I really missed Nimo as I walked the trails on foot. (Freya is fighting a hoof infection, and was a little sore, so we aren't working her under saddle right now. More on that next week.) I imagined how much fun it would have been to be out there riding him with Gemma, and it was hard. <br /></p><p>I think the longer we live, the more Christmas has a tendency to accumulate a mixture of memories, good and bad. I am super thankful for all the wonderful things in my life, but it does still feel like there is a hole where Nimo used to be.</p><p>Anyway, I hope that if you celebrate Christmas, you had a good one:)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiatnO-GMVoiTo8TO_b8oEu3Ol63bOrdbyoasCYobU4RovSrb17QAVkTQef3Kxxx71qYLW4zsKw2fh1E31GzeLLhAxdz_wrHUBILvOWxnGHyW97x5tnD4jRDOkuuu5XC3jEar5G79nKogbVfIuYZB8P9G9TIXh4tC9cdwRLUBKnkDAbKfUjWmnXdmU1dA=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="2400" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiatnO-GMVoiTo8TO_b8oEu3Ol63bOrdbyoasCYobU4RovSrb17QAVkTQef3Kxxx71qYLW4zsKw2fh1E31GzeLLhAxdz_wrHUBILvOWxnGHyW97x5tnD4jRDOkuuu5XC3jEar5G79nKogbVfIuYZB8P9G9TIXh4tC9cdwRLUBKnkDAbKfUjWmnXdmU1dA=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do not let this sweet face fool you - I had just dragged her out of the tree, which she had tried to climb into, and she tried to chew on the ornaments too. (eye roll)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-90066268798401786352021-12-19T06:32:00.002-08:002021-12-19T06:32:28.087-08:00Photos with Star<p>After we got Freya's Christmas pictures done, Gemma started planning for Star's pictures. Thankfully, we ended up with nice weather and because Star is a chestnut, we didn't need to do a full bath. So, it was a much less intensive process.</p><p>We got some pictures in front of the barn tree and then we headed out to the trails in the woods and out by the pond. We tried to get a jumping picture too, but the light had faded too much by then, so even though I got a good shot, it was really blurry. Gemma didn't care, though. She had a blast hanging out with Star and posing for the camera.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjd0uoYfSGryTeNG3f63z70HNlXXbvcXzn9sA_FVnOwcrSl9i83zWpyW6D2KghJ9oGNHj75QuocfyeL6DHg879CXXzAuwlSK5b7faXfPsBfNN2TRx1owqG7BRCdwb5p7Nw5NhO8-WsRfP_U1LjwMF9gJI0Vnk0_HS7kyoa1C-Mwj0giMgaQ15uRzl9-kg=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjd0uoYfSGryTeNG3f63z70HNlXXbvcXzn9sA_FVnOwcrSl9i83zWpyW6D2KghJ9oGNHj75QuocfyeL6DHg879CXXzAuwlSK5b7faXfPsBfNN2TRx1owqG7BRCdwb5p7Nw5NhO8-WsRfP_U1LjwMF9gJI0Vnk0_HS7kyoa1C-Mwj0giMgaQ15uRzl9-kg=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgy6HGSbsKQYE4TK530RMgolwWU_brxMNUxdpBtGFgN_rQVRQJwxUxO6Ba3uefVTYCrtGfgtDueSEF7kgWjpDEZSC29cLBjYcrUutEQoNTBRn6ekaUcwOaobbLrza3eFO-nYmJKa_ZgO707wvGLmuHL3ataWsOVfMj3ftrQPL9ywNlE301Hs9EZIlOK8Q=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgy6HGSbsKQYE4TK530RMgolwWU_brxMNUxdpBtGFgN_rQVRQJwxUxO6Ba3uefVTYCrtGfgtDueSEF7kgWjpDEZSC29cLBjYcrUutEQoNTBRn6ekaUcwOaobbLrza3eFO-nYmJKa_ZgO707wvGLmuHL3ataWsOVfMj3ftrQPL9ywNlE301Hs9EZIlOK8Q=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqOecT_ey4YJwg6Q_7DO8k6dMT2Gk9ywExSz1vT60zEjYvDEb4LA_loSRWRG00pkYTOZZquVUdSh_aD17DWOSfvbazZvCl03kICHltQ_SkaX4h37BqTwFH4BXjtNRIy5NYXRQFfK3DqQoR5m_S5py7Ift9dV_YJMr0fqk3h_HdiHSX6dzyXCPbw2W8fA=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqOecT_ey4YJwg6Q_7DO8k6dMT2Gk9ywExSz1vT60zEjYvDEb4LA_loSRWRG00pkYTOZZquVUdSh_aD17DWOSfvbazZvCl03kICHltQ_SkaX4h37BqTwFH4BXjtNRIy5NYXRQFfK3DqQoR5m_S5py7Ift9dV_YJMr0fqk3h_HdiHSX6dzyXCPbw2W8fA=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNxLJoNRZmzfeXQnuZ7uSC7SBIizVF-F6x2O9XYU0adFaRkV7NT1Z2camnRSW0Bm3uM5lvo27pyi0a-llRjh4AY4ynGpXQbDSb7vYzHOvwsRz0Pj-PNcNvKNlOnBvuxTddnMuM_g8mnaiCeLWuTvOsVHqo6O0AaxYa7yyxZX_T20EnMRY1dkMoH1MDRA=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNxLJoNRZmzfeXQnuZ7uSC7SBIizVF-F6x2O9XYU0adFaRkV7NT1Z2camnRSW0Bm3uM5lvo27pyi0a-llRjh4AY4ynGpXQbDSb7vYzHOvwsRz0Pj-PNcNvKNlOnBvuxTddnMuM_g8mnaiCeLWuTvOsVHqo6O0AaxYa7yyxZX_T20EnMRY1dkMoH1MDRA=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjwXAw3R4-hZstY3pgCZzTG652-s2SkDsE3Jy5sQzbkGTsuT3CMJJx6RjLxhvRwzAoKXIi9Wp7YHZ0dEdhIWuPatcBbQgq40vhiyKIvRlj94dv1irLefDR1TkLKG5p5vfXco5W3kWZdSoRvdL_P7fF3sGbBozyUrBnTZyncKfRitrVhuBoiJx66Jf-hQ=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjwXAw3R4-hZstY3pgCZzTG652-s2SkDsE3Jy5sQzbkGTsuT3CMJJx6RjLxhvRwzAoKXIi9Wp7YHZ0dEdhIWuPatcBbQgq40vhiyKIvRlj94dv1irLefDR1TkLKG5p5vfXco5W3kWZdSoRvdL_P7fF3sGbBozyUrBnTZyncKfRitrVhuBoiJx66Jf-hQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBu45MA7mKuoreSmvWzWApzqEMQjTiMcL0njgfzb-UHwisjTrFW828M2CHQtHgDXKNV9WbpCJQJGg0KGtKI2GcnNGxU32ClWxqtfxQ2-kRJ5wSx9o-4MPpRfb4Rd5nFbQwHbDMoLejdVmWa63oAzgG7_KXuQdneHixj3j_psBjyPSeEN2ae7KAuT3JCQ=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="2400" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBu45MA7mKuoreSmvWzWApzqEMQjTiMcL0njgfzb-UHwisjTrFW828M2CHQtHgDXKNV9WbpCJQJGg0KGtKI2GcnNGxU32ClWxqtfxQ2-kRJ5wSx9o-4MPpRfb4Rd5nFbQwHbDMoLejdVmWa63oAzgG7_KXuQdneHixj3j_psBjyPSeEN2ae7KAuT3JCQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgluLDYg21TAXxLxqckoo-3UtvAJjobLwd6Wvo427GCCuTo-pIAy6tEpcKhrtxB1_-Ja7DjIfa8E6VechLjQraFGWUOWsubo1vEW7exyd2Ba4fosdOkauLtqiGCmELKpEXW7Ue10jczeiH8ZIv7TGV8MeK9G-kTOJOIpjW-PRO8vWcKsDSUQD3z4r2KDg=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="2400" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgluLDYg21TAXxLxqckoo-3UtvAJjobLwd6Wvo427GCCuTo-pIAy6tEpcKhrtxB1_-Ja7DjIfa8E6VechLjQraFGWUOWsubo1vEW7exyd2Ba4fosdOkauLtqiGCmELKpEXW7Ue10jczeiH8ZIv7TGV8MeK9G-kTOJOIpjW-PRO8vWcKsDSUQD3z4r2KDg=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheRxgX5nSl9bDx0kMB3lvKz68CT4AOb8nOPGF2BAhhbc1Q_kFYr-PRmgy4Q1CN3opXOf65fg9EcLgEevYL3CHtoXNhXzvhSwqeukc_mnRQKSZCxc_3Q8lBcdk9WWA0Z1YuAVKn8eDIjWJE-rTitKVEOlpu3aSeneEhNJMbqol9DKwbsiVSw4doiMUHPQ=s2400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheRxgX5nSl9bDx0kMB3lvKz68CT4AOb8nOPGF2BAhhbc1Q_kFYr-PRmgy4Q1CN3opXOf65fg9EcLgEevYL3CHtoXNhXzvhSwqeukc_mnRQKSZCxc_3Q8lBcdk9WWA0Z1YuAVKn8eDIjWJE-rTitKVEOlpu3aSeneEhNJMbqol9DKwbsiVSw4doiMUHPQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p>Does anyone else dress their horse up for holiday-themed pictures? I still have to think about what to do with Donut, because Gemma thinks we need to make sure Donut has as much "fun" as Freya and Star did:)<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7947303499899357288.post-10186969531057414422021-12-13T06:06:00.002-08:002021-12-13T06:06:26.992-08:00Forces of Nature<p>As I watched the towering wall of dust materialize out of thin air and approach at a phenomenal speed, I had a brief moment to wonder if that is what the Dust Bowl years looked like. Then it was on us. Visibility was reduced to almost nothing. Dust particles stung the skin on my face. And the wind took my breath away.</p><p>Thankfully, the horse that I was attached to was Freya and not Donut, or I might not be alive to tell the tale. That said, Freya was really not a happy camper. Just before the appearance of the dust storm, we had watched an entire tree blow over about 200 feet from where we were. It was already pretty windy at that point. (And by pretty windy, I'm talking about gusts of 40-50 mph.) <br /></p><p>But my daughter, who may get her own classification as a force of nature, had insisted that Christmas pictures must be done on this day. Despite the wind (or maybe because of it), the air temperature was warm - in the mid-60s - and it was otherwise a perfect December day to give Freya a bath.</p><p>So, by noon, we were out at the barn, with Freya finding herself in the wash stall instead of out with her friends on a beyond blustery day. She was definitely not her normal self, and she was agitated to be inside. But Gemma prevailed, and within 45 minutes, Freya had been scrubbed from head to toe. We put a light cooler on her to help her dry, and my job was to take her outside in the sun and wind to help her dry before pictures.</p><p>As I walked Freya outside, I noted that the wind seemed to have picked up a bit more, and was again questioning the wisdom of trying to do fun Christmas pictures. Freya is generally fine on windy days, but we had passed windy awhile ago, and we were in the vicinity of storm-like winds, despite the bright sun.</p><p>Freya decided that she could maybe eat some grass, but no more than 10 seconds had passed before the wind took its first victim on the farm. A tree blew over at the edge of the woods. I sort of stared in shock. And then I registered that the greenhouse we were standing next to sounded like the panes of plastic might rattle free of whatever containment system was holding them. Or maybe the whole building would just take flight. Either way, I was becoming aware that standing outside was not a great place to be. </p><p>Freya had that realization well before I did, and she was dancing around on the end of the lead rope, trying to convince me that we needed to move. Which is what I was planning to do when we got hit by the mini-dust storm. For a few seconds, all I could do was brace against the dust and wind. But Freya was becoming increasingly insistent that we needed to get out of there.</p><p>Her plan was clearly to head back to her field. My plan was that we needed to get into the barn. About one minute of discussion ensued before I finally convinced Freya that we were going in the barn. She was really not happy about that. And I can understand her perspective. I think a lot of animals feel safer outside in a storm because they can see and have the freedom to move. Unlike people who tend to feel safer inside.</p><p>And if we didn't need to do pictures, I would have been happy to turn her back out. But then I would have incurred the wrath of a tiny 9-year-old:)</p><p>So I put Freya in Donut's stall, where she proceeded to express herself in a way that only mares can. There was much head-flinging and neck-snaking and squealing and bucking in place to demonstrate how very miffed she was to be in the stall instead of in her field. Then I pointed out that there was a nice beet pulp mash and a flake of alfalfa in the stall for her. That attracted her attention, but she didn't want to give up too easily. For about 15 minutes she alternated between grabbing a bite and expressing her irritation. And then she settled down. I guess she figured if she had to die in this God-forsaken barn because of a human's stupidity, she could at least have a nice snack first!</p><p>At that point, it was just a waiting game. Gemma and I hung out in the barn for a couple of hours while Freya dried. The wind would die down for a bit and then pick up again. It repeated the cycle all afternoon. Gemma pitched in with some barn chores while I caught up on email and social media.</p><p>Then, finally, Freya was reasonably dry and it sounded like the wind was in the blustery category rather than the tornado category again. It was time to take those pictures.</p><p>We started out in the barn. Gemma was desperate to get pictures by the Christmas tree. And Freya was actually quite cooperative. She'd apparently forgiven us for our earlier stupidity and was happy to hang out with Gemma.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLa42BOVgC1lLWqZgd-EX_Jkd-nXAkUH8eWPcAV3xZyI9y5ZPfC6VPP0o3sQXNeFYJsl9kglvmnNVkELOOQ6Ja-nKuaqQQcwU_A73hDYlm4bzp1gQOX2tbVVRtnAyw8ycjbvnkx1D8dE0oCczCFIPIiqjPQE-PKr-kANTPzF3hmTjfra9KIzPTrnsFhQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLa42BOVgC1lLWqZgd-EX_Jkd-nXAkUH8eWPcAV3xZyI9y5ZPfC6VPP0o3sQXNeFYJsl9kglvmnNVkELOOQ6Ja-nKuaqQQcwU_A73hDYlm4bzp1gQOX2tbVVRtnAyw8ycjbvnkx1D8dE0oCczCFIPIiqjPQE-PKr-kANTPzF3hmTjfra9KIzPTrnsFhQ=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLK_a5Y7V2Kerk-LVQ30-_SgRJCDq5iPTQb1QyEKYEggBmheyKBcxWz6kAISVqdmJ6lHy8CjJkErzMq4UFVysEhEhs3A_LpEMlK75-hxfCcJ_cbtdq3ErJ5N6xQ1R3hzmlZv6IoYaIM45h9XeZp1gUIfPQWPTHBFomvJlu5dvIjGqA4L4CLbRHDliTow=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLK_a5Y7V2Kerk-LVQ30-_SgRJCDq5iPTQb1QyEKYEggBmheyKBcxWz6kAISVqdmJ6lHy8CjJkErzMq4UFVysEhEhs3A_LpEMlK75-hxfCcJ_cbtdq3ErJ5N6xQ1R3hzmlZv6IoYaIM45h9XeZp1gUIfPQWPTHBFomvJlu5dvIjGqA4L4CLbRHDliTow=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwM8R_ZpYy4vtXQyLipg6yExXW3-YHxJNieLBl35ulADjKtRxUqCLmhbLwzaWx7YqS1xs9HF_EypyNNnaScQu7SFsMcOMczhC9K8Fi6A-_UEaDdwlpxnjMGRr22bnsxgR7ZPF9Q2rx6oObFas0PtM3X5UYQA2JNhjaV_BinA7GcBSn-Kneo3PqauFfTQ=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwM8R_ZpYy4vtXQyLipg6yExXW3-YHxJNieLBl35ulADjKtRxUqCLmhbLwzaWx7YqS1xs9HF_EypyNNnaScQu7SFsMcOMczhC9K8Fi6A-_UEaDdwlpxnjMGRr22bnsxgR7ZPF9Q2rx6oObFas0PtM3X5UYQA2JNhjaV_BinA7GcBSn-Kneo3PqauFfTQ=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjCNjj5eUsZyaQQrluKwc9Q1i46VQb7cW3VB0fM49M7SLWTyzdOyWyhySZ4KvxMlxChpxaxh9XahHrEGGt4je_T0vYe43fVrs2PaTnx5RMb6WHGMNfnsIxH6OfqX0rZ-ughHeYuxU_0UknR57jfoBnPBXLyciNdXM6vDcvqvSq1RtdsHzoig0S8NG8SBw=s1200" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjCNjj5eUsZyaQQrluKwc9Q1i46VQb7cW3VB0fM49M7SLWTyzdOyWyhySZ4KvxMlxChpxaxh9XahHrEGGt4je_T0vYe43fVrs2PaTnx5RMb6WHGMNfnsIxH6OfqX0rZ-ughHeYuxU_0UknR57jfoBnPBXLyciNdXM6vDcvqvSq1RtdsHzoig0S8NG8SBw=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I thought maybe we should call it good at this point, but Gemma still wanted to at least try taking pictures outside. So we saddled Freya up and headed to the Great Outdoors.</p><p>Freya was definitely very alert, but I did manage to get a few decent pictures.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgG18AMoRS98HJiZO3e0ttJLfxpPGqO1OvhO2YwVhUjQsOhFxLHT5TE65ZB7QHSBk7JbYjv1yraooBJJeul-F8-TFxoavhhHcQfFdph1KAVSQDL5dLgsEneEDqnAg-KCE64rDcs4mctILqwIx8L3fr0Od_AhL8m7NoONU0ju-mEX8aOXwEsLSMPMngMcA=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1800" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgG18AMoRS98HJiZO3e0ttJLfxpPGqO1OvhO2YwVhUjQsOhFxLHT5TE65ZB7QHSBk7JbYjv1yraooBJJeul-F8-TFxoavhhHcQfFdph1KAVSQDL5dLgsEneEDqnAg-KCE64rDcs4mctILqwIx8L3fr0Od_AhL8m7NoONU0ju-mEX8aOXwEsLSMPMngMcA=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQpd0Ad5k1BWRceFlCvzYYJYt2MMSLTEqr2DNMm9BLsgZdMz-bdeZWy_HGfX_e27_U-ypn1QCUfibmibqqas0uD_Ija1zyiJ4LV9pd2TXI3mFiUpQHWmxWfcyMCyXYfeLr2bIfYCDAU3HFy1_mkgJja0Wxsy3dNsEmX-eGyW9FIA6RFXfKCZion2TJEQ=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQpd0Ad5k1BWRceFlCvzYYJYt2MMSLTEqr2DNMm9BLsgZdMz-bdeZWy_HGfX_e27_U-ypn1QCUfibmibqqas0uD_Ija1zyiJ4LV9pd2TXI3mFiUpQHWmxWfcyMCyXYfeLr2bIfYCDAU3HFy1_mkgJja0Wxsy3dNsEmX-eGyW9FIA6RFXfKCZion2TJEQ=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-4kGsRkkmCfjX4MWvRffUBIh6Ec0xxgAd4jZyPIEJ5m4GwvnJnymWRAWJflsZpqXE-NqBP3wciprOPbikugn1PHAR8U3isk9EaisdzvSTRlL3NYC81_pqZoLS_vgWrh2yEjpaBuxd3IkR6ZHqWmkBaCUvJjEDAwFch38NQle-BLcwGaaDqMTFTeAzSA=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-4kGsRkkmCfjX4MWvRffUBIh6Ec0xxgAd4jZyPIEJ5m4GwvnJnymWRAWJflsZpqXE-NqBP3wciprOPbikugn1PHAR8U3isk9EaisdzvSTRlL3NYC81_pqZoLS_vgWrh2yEjpaBuxd3IkR6ZHqWmkBaCUvJjEDAwFch38NQle-BLcwGaaDqMTFTeAzSA=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAC0TFxw45yg19zlY8mxfUhseQB3F8ekC1Jiz8gsmJ7ra5ih0LcTP68y3iaKY3NNe2tJ8osNPjw8E-LQWhW9zyEv3q57AbuRuyvnNyOO8Zq8H9betfcqfh4yG_-JDBENuvxUaQeSsS6xi0ssAEvf68cGLuG5YtjNR_jtTRv4ROjkekJPTbuCUnHQHw7Q=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAC0TFxw45yg19zlY8mxfUhseQB3F8ekC1Jiz8gsmJ7ra5ih0LcTP68y3iaKY3NNe2tJ8osNPjw8E-LQWhW9zyEv3q57AbuRuyvnNyOO8Zq8H9betfcqfh4yG_-JDBENuvxUaQeSsS6xi0ssAEvf68cGLuG5YtjNR_jtTRv4ROjkekJPTbuCUnHQHw7Q=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div><br /><p>It ended up being a long day out at the barn with a little more excitement than I like these days, but the pictures are done. So at least one force of nature has been taken care of:)</p><p>(BTW: In case you are interested, I got the horse Santa gear from Equinavia. Here are the links: <a href="https://www.equinavia.com/horze-santa-horse-cap-p_22995/p" target="_blank">Horze Santa Horse Cap</a>, <a href="https://www.equinavia.com/horze-santa-halter-p_22395/p" target="_blank">Horze Santa Halter</a>, and <a href="https://www.equinavia.com/horze-chrismas-all-purpose-saddle-pad-p_17995/p" target="_blank">Horze Santa All-Purpose Saddle Pad</a>. A search for "Santa" will yield a number of other fun products like leg wraps, a horse blanket, a riding blanket, a helmet cap...)<br /></p>Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17080104319886657109noreply@blogger.com2