Life As a First Draft

Work: AM heat & short walk/PM groom
Evaluation: Easy day. Although I was proud of him for holding it together yesterday until we finished, his fit means that he found the work taxing. It is beyond me why he finds wandering around his own pasture to be difficult, but that’s not my call to make. I groomed until he dropped his head and yawned.
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In addition to heaps of money and the admiration of millions, one of my goals with Rodney’s Saga is to understand blogging. So, I thought I’d take a day away from the horses at the end of each month to reflect on writing daily, writing online, and writing about myself.

Not only do I remember the days when magazines used to pay folks to write articles, I remember when newspapers where laid out on light tables and photos were edged with line tape. Having thoroughly dated myself, I want to say that I am not anti-technology. I recall my wondrous glee the first time I watched a page emerge fully formed from a printer instead of being hunted and pecked out of a typewriter. I’d be happy if I never uncapped another bottle of Wite-Out. But your formative experiences stay with you, which means I still put two spaces after a period. It’s too ingrained to change. I have to global replace when I’m done. Outside of a few links, I still think of the screen as funky-looking sheet of paper instead of exploiting the medium from what it can do. (For a better stated version of this argument, Craig Mod on Books in the Age of iPad.) So, I blog in order to understand 21st C media.

When I was writing monthly posts, I would come up with an idea, draft it, polish it, ask my writing buddies to read it, and send it off to be illustrated. Entire weeks would go by when I would not think of the blog. Life online wasn’t much different from life in the dead-tree world. That has changed with a daily blog. Now every event is a potential blog post. For example, a friend sent me a gift and I thought, Oh goody, I can get a blog post out of this. She’s a blogger also, so she understood.

I have become obsessed. If I am not fiddling with the day’s post or taking notes for future ones, I’m checking the site stats or wondering if I should add video. I have no idea where this is coming from. Until now I have been a firm proponent of Johnson’s adage that “No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money.” It remains to be see if this is enthusiasm for a new project or the start of a dangerous addiction.

To more experienced bloggers, how do you keep from disappearing into the vortex?

Baby Steps

Work: AM heat therapy & handwalk/PM groom & groundwork – weave cones, reverse, 360o turn, and crossrail.
Evaluation: The long walk from yesterday but by ourselves. He led me up the hill but didn’t charge and was almost dogging it on the easy sections. In the ring, he did 90%, including the walk back to the barn, on a loose rope. At the weave cones, I could see the moment he started to follow me – I was walking backwards – instead of being hauled around by his nose. The afternoon would have gone even better if I hadn’t kept zapping him with static electricity shocks. He seems to take them more personally than the mare does. Afterward, he stood quietly while I removed the halter. Whereupon, he pealed out of the barn bucking, kicking, and zinging around the pasture. House rules say a horse must be respectful when under tack but free time is his/her own. So, no harm, no foul.
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Rodney has taken to meeting me at the grooming area when it is time for his heat sessions. I find this cute.

Despite my whining, I do recognize Rodney’s many redeeming features. In addition to having talent and looks, he’s as sweet as can be. He adores being loved on and has a bottomless need for affection. He wants to do his job, to the point that he stresses if thinks he might not understand the lesson. [Previous Horse would just tell me to talk to the hoof.] While he may not be the brightest bulb in the chandelier, it is the rider’s responsibility to explaining things in a way that is understandable to the horse; not the horse’s responsibility to understand the rider. Despite his come-aparts, he is not a hot horse. Under all that bluster is a lazy horse needing to be pushed forward, which is good for a rider with an electric seat. The dressage instructor in front of whom I tried Rodney was amazed that I got so much out of him without carrying/wearing standard dressage aids.

The problem is that when he panics, he does it so quickly and completely that he goes to a place where he is unreachable. We are getting to the point that we recognize the signs but have not learned how to head off or defuse the attacks.

What is your horse’s best/worst feature?

What is going on inside that pretty head of yours?

Horse Work: AM heat therapy, “extended” walk in company/PM short liberty session.

Evaluation: On our group walk, Greg led Mathilda, I led Rodney. At her time of life, Mathilda doesn’t do anything without a steady stream of carrots. Rodney spent most of the walk mooching his share. I don’t think he noticed how far we were from the barn. Still, he did it & he didn’t get tense whatever the reason, so I’m putting it in the plus column. Our liberty work consists of walking back and forth between us getting carrots. You may be sensing a trend. Today he had to walk over a log. No carrot if he walked around. This is actually a complicated conditional statement, so another in the plus column.

Rider Work: Bike. Attack germs in the water or in the underbrush on Monday left us with nasty, itchy rashes on our forearms and bouts of lethargy from Thursday to Saturday. I mention it both as an excuse for lack of exercise and because it seems odd to have so much of a reaction from so small an affected area.
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When Rodney flings his head up while harkening to external noises or internal voices, I worry about ever taking him off the property. Thanks to my wonderful, hard-working husband, our pasture has a superb fence encircling it. Since our ring is in the pasture, he – the horse not the hubby – is always enclosed. He’s as safe as a cavorting horse is likely to get. I worry that the smallest hint of indocility at a lesson or a show will result in the horse galloping madly down the highway.

The irony of this particular worry is that Previous Horse was a complete fruitcake at shows. At the very least, he would scream and rear like the wild stallion he wasn’t. At one show, he was unable to deal with the cows in the next field. We tried a chain over his nose. No response. Chain under his lip. Ditto. We finally controlled him with a chain thru his mouth, mostly as it gave him something to frantically chew on. At his last show, at the mature age of 24, he managed to get all four feet off the ground, at the same time, while tied to the trailer. It never bothered me. That was just Caesar.

The difference was that I had Caesar’s number. I couldn’t always get him to cooperate, but I could always tell what was going on between his ears. In my first post with Rodney, I thought I had his number. I cited the ability to ignore a fit as the #1 of my Top Ten Reasons You Know You Found the Right Horse, “When he pitches a widget that would incite panic from a different horse, you laugh and tell him to get over himself.” Either I was mistaken at the time or I have lost that understanding since. Can a connection once lost ever be retrieved? It seems hopeless, but then I have been know to wallow in the occasional pit of despair.

Does your horse act up at shows?

Crosstacking

Work: PM heat therapy & short grooming
Evaluation: Cold weather puts him in a mood. Some days it’s better to just walk and come back tomorrow.

Went to a Western used tack sale and bought two wool saddlepads: A Navajo-style plaid and a inch-thick felt. Rodney appears to enjoy warm over cold. He loves his heat therapy and his tude goes up as the temp goes down. So, if/when I ever put a saddle on him, thick wool might do a better job than fleece or modern pads in keeping his back warm and loose. I also have sheepskin halfpads, both real and faux, but was not impressed with them on Previous Horse.

Anyone tried Western tack on an English horse or vice versa?

Head Games

Work: early PM – heat therapy, long-for us-walk to the top of the hill/late PM – 2 grooming sessions in an attempt to deferalize.
Evaluation: Dawdled up the hill with his head down & yawned twice halfway up. Since he used to pull me up the hill, I’m counting this as a solid win.

Rodney is not headshy. He is given vile-tasting oral meds twice a day. He could not be more amenable about getting caught and having a turkey baster shoved in his mouth. Tonight I accomplished it with only a rope over his neck. Plus, when he wants to be comforted he will bury his head in my chest to let me scratch him and give him a head hug.

Then there are other times when I go to touch his face and he flings his head up in the air looking as if I were about to strike him. He particularly objects to brushes. Curry combs come a close second. Yet, it’s not objects near his head. He loves having his face scratched with a towel. Once he realizes that I have switched from waving a brush to waving a towel, he relaxes & lets me rub all over his head.

I’ve mentioned this before, more than once. My question today is what to do about it:
a) Hold the line. Calmly stick with it and eventually desensitize him.
b) Compromise. Brush one side first & then brush his head when he has relaxed.
c) Ignore it for now. Clean his head with a towel.
I vary depending on the day.

Comments, questions, concerns?

More rain. Yippee.

Horse work: unlikely. 90% chance of thunderstorms with a looming, green/yellow/red blob on the radar.
Rider work: exercise DVD.

When I complained of feeling unusually cranky about the horse, Hubby pointed out that I have never been happy with any horse at this time of year due to short days, uncooperative weather, and muddy footing. It is particularly hard with this horse as he needs needs consistency to relax and show progress. So I am cranky, just not unusually so.

How to you stay motivated during the winter?

How I Learned to Think Like a Horse

Photo by Kathie Mautner

The legendary California horseman Jimmy Williams once said, “It’s what you learn after you know it all that’s important.” When I was in my early 20s, I finally had my own horse, had leased several horses, had graduated from US Pony Clubs, and had been a working student at two barns. I knew it all. Then one night, a cowboy* barn manager showed me that all my knowledge was built on the wrong assumption.

My first barn was a dump. When I started boarding, it was in the process of being converted from a cattle barn, complete with a resident bull. On the plus side, the building was sturdy, the ceilings were high, and the stalls were huge. Otherwise, cobwebs bred high in the corners. The stalls were pieced together out of steel pipe and plywood. Horses ate from old, built-in wooden feed boxes that were only cleaned by eager noses. I was happy. The horses were happy. I didn’t know any different.

Then I went off to college. Instead of quitting riding, I took up Pony Club. I learned all the finicky stable routines and arcane British rules so dear to USPC. I was fortunate to spend time as a working student and to buy a fancy Thoroughbred. I saw how major barns ran their days and I watched Olympic contenders prepare for competition.

Then I came home. I had been to the horse-equivalent of the big city and had acquired all manner of bad habits. Only I didn’t yet realize they were bad habits. In the summer, horses stayed in during the day to avoid the heat and went out at night for pasture time. One evening after a show, I wanted my horse to be left in his stall so that I could wrap his legs. If I did not wrap all four legs snugly from pastern to knee, his legs would swell up overnight. This was the proper procedure as I had been taught in those other barns. Nope. My horse was going out with the others. Post-show recuperation was not a sufficient reason to make an exception.

I was furious. I was appalled. My horse had worked hard. Hadn’t he earned a chance to rest? I was sure that the barn manager was preventing me from doing the best for my horse. The next morning, my horse came in with the best legs he had ever had after a show. All four legs were cool and tight without an ounce of swelling. Huh? This went against everything I knew.

The problem was that I was treating my horse as I would like to be treated. When I’m tired, I want to put my feet up and not move for a good long while. Horses, on the other hand, are designed to wander and nap and graze, all night long. Their stomachs work best with constant, small quantities of low-impact food. The motion of walking in search of grass keeps the circulation moving and clears the gunk out of the system. Standing still is unnatural to a horse.

Much of what we do to horses are restrictions they have learned to accept. For example, horses were content at this barn in part because it was surrounded by huge pastures. As predators, we find comfort in cozy, safe lairs. Horses are herbivores. As a prey species, their defense is to run away, fast and far. Open spaces equal long sightlines. An enclosed space means no warning and nowhere to run when the lions arrive. It’s amazing that horses stay in stalls at all.

If you watch and listen, your horses will tell you what is best for them. Once I realized I didn’t know everything, I started listening.
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*The cowboy barn manager – I suppose the PC term would be cowgirl, or cowwoman, or perhaps cowperson. That’s another thing I’ve noticed about cowboys. They just get on with it and don’t worry about what to call it.