I like that your self will tell you when you're ready to do something.
It's been a year and a half with Maggie, and I knew it was time to take her out all by herself.
She's never in her life been out without other horses.
But lately I'd gotten tired of always having another horse on the end of a leadrope, it made it hard to work with the horse you're riding, if you're worrying about the horse you're taking along for the ride next to you. I had to get bored enough of one thing before I would try another thing.
I took Becky out with me. The trail dog is the key to success. She didn't know it, but I knew that if Maggie was just following Becky like she usually did, leading the trail, she might not realize that Dewey was back home in the barn. She'd have comfort.
So I just saddled up and we went out. I gave Dewey his favorite alfalfa hay, just a handful, like giving him a handful of Skittles. It's the candy hay he doesn't usually get. So he didn't cry for her when she left much. He had candy.
And then as we started down the path, following Becky, I just psyched myself out. I kept saying, it's just a regular ride. Dewey is right here with us. I pretended we had done this a thousand times, not the first time. I think because I was playing these relaxing things in my mind, my legs and body were relaxed, and then Maggie felt like it was regular ride because I was relaxed. So she was relaxed. Also, the day before I had been hanging out in the barn just looking at the baby chickens and deciding which ones were going to be roosters, and not paying attention to the horses, and then they both came over to me and begged for attention. In a way I hadn't had them do before, like I was gently one of their herd. They put their faces on me, and demanded their butts got scratched, they smelled my cheeks and put their heads on my shoulder. Because of this bond that I didn't realize we had, really - we'd been working every day for a year, the three of us, but you know when you're working, strictly working and you don't notice that you've sort of built something? I was surprised, feeling that.
Anyway, that gave me the security to trust her, and go out alone. Trust the whole situation. It turned out perfectly. Like we'd done it a hundred times. We did our little trail loop, following the dog. No big deal. Because we have done it a hundred times. Just not alone.
It's true what they say, every moment with your horse you are training it. We have learned some things, even things we didn't know we could do yet. Then when we were ready to try it, it was already there, done, waiting for us.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Monday, May 7, 2018
Centaur
I've channeled all my horse adventures into a weird western I'm writing. I would like one thing I've written to get out there and be important to other people. Or entertaining.
I still get on the horses everyday, even tho my body kind of hurts like my skeleton isn't too happy with my bones on horse bones. But I ignore that as much as I can, and with Maggie I've been able to forget I have legs and just use her legs as my legs. Centaur? I think? It's weird as a rider, how I've ridden now for like 40 years, and I'm just starting to figure out my body and the horse's body working meshed together. It takes so long to forget yourself, and trust you horse, and then you kind of flush yourself down into the horse and then the horse moves better because you're not resisting so much, you're with her. It's just I'm SO GOOD at resisting anything good for me. Maybe because resisting keeps you safe, keeps you scrutinizing, keeps you keeping everything else OVER THERE so you can function in your little way, just nicely, right here. In your tiny circle. But letting yourself NOT know what you're doing, that's also a freedom. Allowing things to be.
Anyway, things are blowing open, I guess I'm crossing through something. The horses are easy to trust, they are idiots but they are always interested in going a new way. As long as eventually they get to go home, and they didn't have to work too hard, and there are carrots or some kind of treat. They make me happy and they never, ever talk.
They just feel.
I still get on the horses everyday, even tho my body kind of hurts like my skeleton isn't too happy with my bones on horse bones. But I ignore that as much as I can, and with Maggie I've been able to forget I have legs and just use her legs as my legs. Centaur? I think? It's weird as a rider, how I've ridden now for like 40 years, and I'm just starting to figure out my body and the horse's body working meshed together. It takes so long to forget yourself, and trust you horse, and then you kind of flush yourself down into the horse and then the horse moves better because you're not resisting so much, you're with her. It's just I'm SO GOOD at resisting anything good for me. Maybe because resisting keeps you safe, keeps you scrutinizing, keeps you keeping everything else OVER THERE so you can function in your little way, just nicely, right here. In your tiny circle. But letting yourself NOT know what you're doing, that's also a freedom. Allowing things to be.
Anyway, things are blowing open, I guess I'm crossing through something. The horses are easy to trust, they are idiots but they are always interested in going a new way. As long as eventually they get to go home, and they didn't have to work too hard, and there are carrots or some kind of treat. They make me happy and they never, ever talk.
They just feel.
Saturday, January 13, 2018
Mares Are a Pain in the Ass
Maybe not beating the horse. Is what I'm learning.
I've never had a horse that slowed down when you ask her to trot. Maggie will actually slow down.
So I get off, put her on the lunge, and she does everything I ask, like of course I'm perfect. Then I get back on and ask for a trot, and she gives me the finger. So I'm thinking, well, maybe she's sore. Maybe she doesn't enjoy balancing a rider. But we've been riding together for a year now.
The last time this happened in the arena, I thought I was going to make her into sandwiches, and feed the neighborhood, and be done with her. But then we went trail riding the next day, and she was perfect. She is bold and fearless pretty much on the trail. She'll go through anything except hesitating at muddy water for a minute, or getting startled momentarily if something jumps out from behind a bush. But 90% of the time she has the mind of a cigar chewing Cuban mafia boss. Judges carefully, and then just busts right on through regardless.
My great trainer friend told me to make the desired trait easy, and the undesired trait uncomfortable for the horse. And to use forward motion, and variety, to keep the horse's mind fresh and focused and happy in her training. And, she said, mares are a pain in the ass.
So that is turning out to be exactly true, every word.
I'll try and ease up in the arena and figure out what makes her go. On the trail she seems to have less problem with go. I have to figure out her mind, and work from her softest part.
Mares make you work harder. But she is also the most curious.
I've never had a horse that slowed down when you ask her to trot. Maggie will actually slow down.
So I get off, put her on the lunge, and she does everything I ask, like of course I'm perfect. Then I get back on and ask for a trot, and she gives me the finger. So I'm thinking, well, maybe she's sore. Maybe she doesn't enjoy balancing a rider. But we've been riding together for a year now.
The last time this happened in the arena, I thought I was going to make her into sandwiches, and feed the neighborhood, and be done with her. But then we went trail riding the next day, and she was perfect. She is bold and fearless pretty much on the trail. She'll go through anything except hesitating at muddy water for a minute, or getting startled momentarily if something jumps out from behind a bush. But 90% of the time she has the mind of a cigar chewing Cuban mafia boss. Judges carefully, and then just busts right on through regardless.
My great trainer friend told me to make the desired trait easy, and the undesired trait uncomfortable for the horse. And to use forward motion, and variety, to keep the horse's mind fresh and focused and happy in her training. And, she said, mares are a pain in the ass.
So that is turning out to be exactly true, every word.
I'll try and ease up in the arena and figure out what makes her go. On the trail she seems to have less problem with go. I have to figure out her mind, and work from her softest part.
Mares make you work harder. But she is also the most curious.
Sunday, November 5, 2017
Squirrely
Squirrels with their tiny doll hands.
Squirrels think they're so smart because they can flick those puffy tails.
They lock eyes with me in my mind. They are getting those eggs. Those are my eggs. Go eat nuts or whatever else you eat.
Lay off my eggs. Ha, get it. LAY OFF
I'm in a battle. 24 hens, and only two eggs yesterday. They took advantage of me, because I was working and couldn't guard the henhouse.
I'm here today. There will be explosives.
Watch your asses, squirrels. Me against squirrel nation.
Squirrels think they're so smart because they can flick those puffy tails.
They lock eyes with me in my mind. They are getting those eggs. Those are my eggs. Go eat nuts or whatever else you eat.
Lay off my eggs. Ha, get it. LAY OFF
I'm in a battle. 24 hens, and only two eggs yesterday. They took advantage of me, because I was working and couldn't guard the henhouse.
I'm here today. There will be explosives.
Watch your asses, squirrels. Me against squirrel nation.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
At the Speed of Maggie
Maggie the new horse is reliable as crap, which is amazing since she's only 5 and we've only had her 10 mos. But she's a worker, she just walks right into anything you point her toward, she's ready to explore. That's why today was surprising.
Today we were heading back through the woods after going through the water, and when you turn her to go back she does turn slightly into a 5 year old horse, with more speed and a yippee attitude. I was ponying Dewey behind us and we were on the sort of bushy woods part of the trail and I don't know if she got poked in the stomach by a stick or if Dewey bumped her too much from behind all I know is one minute she was walking along and the next minute we were rocketing forward at the speed of light. The world, when surprised and on horseback at suddenly high speed, is a carnival ride. Time blurs upwards, and everything feels like it's upside down. I lost Dewey's rope, because we were hurtling forward and all I thought was what's going on, oh crap, Dewey is going to come zooming behind us, I will be in a steeplechase. I also thought hey Maggie has a really smooth canter. I also thought shit how do I stop this thing.
All this happened in about 3 or 4 strides of her running. Then I got her stopped (always a miracle, especially if you're still on top of the horse). And I looked back and there was Dewey just standing in the bushes where his rope dropped. Relaxed. The perfect gentleman.
I don't know why horses have to be idiotic, they just are. I got off Mags and got on Dewey since it was time to switch, riding back home. Maggie was fine and silly the rest of the ride home. She likes to bite at Dewey when we're going down hill so I spent a lot of time trying to hit her in the face when she tried to nip. But even that is business as usual.
On the way back in I saw Lisa my trail buddy and we held our arms over our heads in victory at seeing each other on the trail. The universal Life Is So Good on Horses greeting. I also saw our preschool neighbor friends, even though our kids are all more than 10 years past preschool. It's a good way to see the neighborhood, nothing but happiness comes when you ride by on a horse.
I figure I've done about 280 rides on Maggie in 10 mos. She's had about 3 times she's done something idiotic. So she gets to be 5 years old sometimes. Pretty good odds.
Today we were heading back through the woods after going through the water, and when you turn her to go back she does turn slightly into a 5 year old horse, with more speed and a yippee attitude. I was ponying Dewey behind us and we were on the sort of bushy woods part of the trail and I don't know if she got poked in the stomach by a stick or if Dewey bumped her too much from behind all I know is one minute she was walking along and the next minute we were rocketing forward at the speed of light. The world, when surprised and on horseback at suddenly high speed, is a carnival ride. Time blurs upwards, and everything feels like it's upside down. I lost Dewey's rope, because we were hurtling forward and all I thought was what's going on, oh crap, Dewey is going to come zooming behind us, I will be in a steeplechase. I also thought hey Maggie has a really smooth canter. I also thought shit how do I stop this thing.
All this happened in about 3 or 4 strides of her running. Then I got her stopped (always a miracle, especially if you're still on top of the horse). And I looked back and there was Dewey just standing in the bushes where his rope dropped. Relaxed. The perfect gentleman.
I don't know why horses have to be idiotic, they just are. I got off Mags and got on Dewey since it was time to switch, riding back home. Maggie was fine and silly the rest of the ride home. She likes to bite at Dewey when we're going down hill so I spent a lot of time trying to hit her in the face when she tried to nip. But even that is business as usual.
On the way back in I saw Lisa my trail buddy and we held our arms over our heads in victory at seeing each other on the trail. The universal Life Is So Good on Horses greeting. I also saw our preschool neighbor friends, even though our kids are all more than 10 years past preschool. It's a good way to see the neighborhood, nothing but happiness comes when you ride by on a horse.
I figure I've done about 280 rides on Maggie in 10 mos. She's had about 3 times she's done something idiotic. So she gets to be 5 years old sometimes. Pretty good odds.
Monday, October 2, 2017
The Horses Lead Us to Everything
The horses lead us to everything.
They lead us to the new girl who is renting the guest house next door. She came to ride and fell in love with the magical forest we rode in.
Now she lives next door, and takes long walks with our older son, in the twilight, like it's the 1880's, and they're a young couple.
They lead us to the water, where all the troubles are dumped out and washed downstream. I come back from the trail, cleaned out and ready for more.
They lead us to the new girl who is renting the guest house next door. She came to ride and fell in love with the magical forest we rode in.
Now she lives next door, and takes long walks with our older son, in the twilight, like it's the 1880's, and they're a young couple.
They lead us to the water, where all the troubles are dumped out and washed downstream. I come back from the trail, cleaned out and ready for more.
Monday, August 14, 2017
Farmland and French Fries
Today was the last day of summer even though it's only August 14th and some idiot thinks that's now the beginning of fall.
I took Bess and Becky to the beach, the only willing volunteers. Bess is a beginner surfing maniac, and it turns out when you take Becky the dog and both get in the water, she is a surfing maniac too. Not to be left on the beach, she charged right in with us and swam and attempted to surf. Which meant I had to stay in the pretty shallow water until she got tired out so she didn't drown in her enthusiasm to not be left behind.
Seeing the dog tossed about, and leaping over waves, and seeing the 10 year old almost fifth grader managing the surfboard that is feet longer than she is, in her mini wetsuit, with her long California blonde hair and summer tan - and the ocean herself, washing machine tumultuous, full of sand and freezing and churning us up - this was our last grasp of summer. We played knowing there was frozen yogurt directly afterward, our tradition. French fries and farmland waiting as we drove home, our tradition. Swimming and hair washing and the long night before school ahead.
I'm not sorry I spent the summer with my babies, the tall and the short, the four leggeds and the furry. I got to see them sprout surfer's legs, I got to wrestle through the heat and the boredom of long days. The real reason for summer is to give your mind that long stretch off, to think nothing, to find other things to do, books to read, skies to watch, cousins to sift through, water to float on and contemplate your life.
This is as important as AP classes. It may in fact be the Real World. The fertile soil and the tan skin and the French fries on the way home.
I took Bess and Becky to the beach, the only willing volunteers. Bess is a beginner surfing maniac, and it turns out when you take Becky the dog and both get in the water, she is a surfing maniac too. Not to be left on the beach, she charged right in with us and swam and attempted to surf. Which meant I had to stay in the pretty shallow water until she got tired out so she didn't drown in her enthusiasm to not be left behind.
Seeing the dog tossed about, and leaping over waves, and seeing the 10 year old almost fifth grader managing the surfboard that is feet longer than she is, in her mini wetsuit, with her long California blonde hair and summer tan - and the ocean herself, washing machine tumultuous, full of sand and freezing and churning us up - this was our last grasp of summer. We played knowing there was frozen yogurt directly afterward, our tradition. French fries and farmland waiting as we drove home, our tradition. Swimming and hair washing and the long night before school ahead.
I'm not sorry I spent the summer with my babies, the tall and the short, the four leggeds and the furry. I got to see them sprout surfer's legs, I got to wrestle through the heat and the boredom of long days. The real reason for summer is to give your mind that long stretch off, to think nothing, to find other things to do, books to read, skies to watch, cousins to sift through, water to float on and contemplate your life.
This is as important as AP classes. It may in fact be the Real World. The fertile soil and the tan skin and the French fries on the way home.
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