Considering Milton

Milton’s signature move is to lick and chew while pinning his ears.

What’s up with that?

Milton doesn’t like to be touched. We’ve ruled out the physical reasons. His skin feels smooth and clean. No rough spots, no scruff. The hair lays down as it should. He doesn’t quite shed dirt the way Rodney does but Rodney is greasy enough to qualify as a seal. You know, the good kind of greasy that means a healthy, shiny, happy coat.

Milton loves attention. One of his favorite activities is to hang with his people. You can touch, pat, & cuddle Milton all over his head. However, anything behind the ears is a no-go zone. If you continue to touch him, lets say brushing him because he has plastered the mud on with a trowel, he will eventually give you all kinds of releases, with the ears still back. If you massage him, he will threaten to kick you and then yawn.

Can horses be conflicted? I guess so, because Milton certainly is.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

New Tank Syndrome with Rodney

View from the mounting block.

 

Since Rodney did more work than Milton last week, he goes first in the posts.

Rodney remains Very Excited about being in a new place [Weekend Voyages]. Therefore, we worked on an exercise that is Very Easy for him.

During the week, we went over our Stand, which has been going well for him lately [Switching Horses]. For this, I sit on the mounting block, Rodney stands next to it. Then, I get on. Rodney continues to stand. He nailed it. Twenty minutes unmounted, ten minutes mounted. Did an outstanding impression of a happy statue. The only reason I stopped was running out of time or daylight. The photo is from our practice at home. None from SSF. Once again, I forgot to take a picture in medias res.

Over the weekend, we shipped back to Stepping Stone Farm. I hauled the mounting block up to the big ring and took a seat. He stood. I sat. He fussed. We sat/stood a while longer. I sat on him. He walked off. We walked. I got off. Sat. He stood. On. Off. Stand. Sit. Walk. And so on. And so on. The tiniest bit of work at the walk and a few steps of walking on a long rein.

When I think about how this sounds from the POV of the average person who rides regularly, I feel slow and stupid. When I think about the progress we made since last week, I feel like a brilliant horse trainer. The reality is probably somewhere in between.

In the category of Horses As Individuals, Rodney does not have Milton’s preferences for the different rings at SSF. Milton feels safe in the covered, enclosed small ring; comfortable in the fenced-in big ring; and not at all comfortable outside of the ring. Rodney doesn’t seem to care. Little ring, big ring, it’s all the same. He is much more occupied with scoping out the new place and the residents. I have not ridden him outside the ring yet, but I suspect it would be the same.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Arrogant Whine, the Opposite of a Humble Brag

It’s hard to complain about good fortune, but I’ll give it a go.

I wanted to be able to take Rodney places [Dubious Future]. I can now take Rodney places [Weekend Voyages]. Great. Wonderful. Terrific. I can’t ride him once I get there.

It’s showing Milton all over again. Yes, I am showing my horse. Great. Wonderful. Terrific. I had hoped to be doing more than bad walk-trot at the smallest of competitions [Wild Horse Goes Walk-Trot, For This I Cleaned My Tack?].

Load a horse on a trailer. Go somewhere. Have a lesson. Ride in a show. People do this all the time. I used to do this all the time. That was before I met these two.

I feel as if I am stuck in a benign version of The Monkey’s Paw. I’m getting exactly what I asked for but not at all what I had in mind.

Is it the rider? Undoubtedly. I wish I could wave a wand and become bolder. Is it the horse? Also, yes. With both of them, every step of progress has to be chipped out of granite. Does it matter? No. We have to work with the strengths and weaknesses of the team we have.

I’m not asking for overnight success. I know lessons can be frustrating and shows can go badly. I just want to be able to try: lessons, clinics, a Training Level dressage test, a local jumper show, maybe even a backyard event. I want to see hope and smell daylight. I want to get my foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. Right now, I’m wandering around in a dark basement wondering if I left the ladder in the garage.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

Does My Instagram Reflect My Life?

There’s a lot of talk about one’s persona on social media versus who one is IRL. I think mine are pretty close. Call it authenticity or call it a lack of depth. I’m not that complicated. High maintenance and anxiety driven? Sure. Mysterious and subtle? Not so much.

Let’s go to the tape.

Breakdowns
Subject
Horses – 4/12: Rodney, Whiskey/Sam, Rodney again, Milton
Cats – 5/12: four kitten, one Blue
Other – 3/12: two scenic, one dressing error

Place
Home – 4/12: all the kitten pictures
Barn – 5/12: pasture (three horses, one sunset), stall (cat)
Elsewhere – 3/12: show, Birmingham, lesson

Horses and cats. A horse show and a riding lesson. The occasional trip into town. Yeah, that’s my life.

Instagram posts from September to November 2018, @myvirtualbrushbox. Previous recap [Be Vewy, Vewy Quiet, I’m Back On Instagram].

The camera angle makes the ring look bigger than it is. By coincidence, the dimensions are similar to a large dressage arena [The Forging of the Ring].

[Once More Into The Cart, Show Report, Winter Tournament 2018-19 #1, Driving]
[Once More Into the Fray, Show Report, Winter Tournament 2018-19 #1, Riding]

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott

A Small Jump Forward

Milton – cantered high caveletti on long line.
Rodney – walked poles under saddle.

The latest activity* was to visit a local barn to talk about jumping lessons. This is the second jumping barn I have investigated this year. The first barn was nice enough but did not return my text or call. Coach Courtney felt that trainer etiquette permitted me one more try and then move on. Instead, I opted to check out a barn closer to me. I don’t need stupendous grand prix talent. I’m not even trotting crossrails. I require a moderately competent jump instructor who can set low fences and cheer me over them.

The current barn under consideration is the same barn I visited several years ago [Looking Back at 2015]. Back then I was barely riding Rodney and not riding Milton at all. The jumping never got off the ground. (Ha, see what I did there?)

As I told them, we are not ready. Before a jump lesson, I would think the minimum level of acceptable achievement should be a horse who can walk, trot, canter, and at least trot caveletti. That is so not us right now. OTOH, if I wait until I am ready, I will never start. They seemed to find this reasonable.

The plan is to take Milton over first for a schooling session, to let him see the place. No reason for them to spend the first lesson watching Milton look around. Then, maybe a lesson or two on one of their schoolmasters. Then, Milton.

I am being deliberately coy about details. Once I start taking lessons, I will ask the person how much they wish to reveal.

*Activity is necessary for progress. OTOH, one can have activity without progress. It remains to be seen which this is.

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott
=============

Making Adjustments

Adventures in Saddle Seat

 

At my last lesson [Styles], Coach Courtney moved my foot forward several inches. This had the effect of straightening my ever-slumping shoulders. It all starts with the leg. The effect was remarkable, at least in a saddle seat. It has been harder to implement with the home team.

Changes are easier for me to make in saddle seat. Partly, I’ve spent less time in it. Partly, I’m usually on reliable lesson horse. Mainly, adopting a new position is easier because saddle seat feels so d*mn weird. My hands are too high. I’m sitting too far back. I have my lower leg off. Move my foot here instead of there? Sure. What’s one more weirdness?

When I try to move my foot in a hunt seat saddle, forty years of muscle memory says, ‘Nope. That’s not how it’s done.’

I would have said that my leg position was decent. However, this small change at the other end of my body had an effect like a magic bullet. Suddenly I was straight, still, and sitting deep. Hard to believe that such a chronic position problem could change so completely. For the rest of the lesson, I didn’t even have to think about my shoulders, just my foot position.

Unbeknownst to me, I was sitting tipped forward ever so slightly: leg too far back, shoulders too far forward. I’m a good enough rider – why is this so hard to say – that I could compensate as long as my attention did not waver. I could hold my shoulders back until I started thinking about the horse, or got tired, or got distracted by a shiny object.

The possibility of this much positive change is exciting. Now to make it permanent, at any time, in any saddle. #wintergoals

Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott