Positive experience

I've been thinking about Gally and his stopping on Sunday. I think sometimes you need to look at what type of horse you are riding.

Gally, boss of the herd, popular with the girls. I mean, Bess stands at the fence batting her eyelids when he's at the hitching rail, and even Crownie comes into season for him. Not the agressive type though. Quiet achiever. Kind of wears his opponents down slowly in order to get to the top. I had a manager like that once.

So when we're on our first hike out together, and he sees a potentially dangerous situation (you have to keep in mind that he can hear and/or smell the wallabies, the deer hunters and their dogs in the bush), he says "Now, let's just stop right here and check that it's all safe". He takes the "protective" stance. Plays the father figure. Works within his level of comfort, and doesn't get too excited by the spur of the moment. Or by the spur for that matter.

It's a case of finding the best way to work with that type of character, and building trust through positive experiences.

Our Sunday experience was a positive one. We stayed together and didn't get eaten.

Limits

Yesterday's post about Gally stopping in the state forest may make some wonder just how much of a spurring and whipping the horse got. Did he get too much?

I use the following yard stick to make sure my horses are not abused.

I ride the horse, I unsaddle him, then I put him away in his paddock and go off to have a coffee. Afterwards, I come back out and indifferently walk past my horse's paddock. If the horse walks up towards me, then I worked with them at the right level. If the horse moves away, then I have overdone it.

So far I have never overdone it.

On Sunday, when I walked out after my coffee, Gally followed me enthusiastically along the fence line. Then enjoyed having his nose rubbed, without doing the usual playing with his lip. So he was actually better behaved. No, whatever I did on that trail was just fine by him. It showed him I was a good leader.

Little Miss Bossy

I ride Gally into the state forest. We take the first turn to our left, and half way down the hill he stops. Kick, kick, kick. Nah, not moving. Kick, smack, kick kick. Two steps forward. Kick kick smack. One step back. Sheesh. I sit in frustration, sweating, and heaving.

Eventually, I concede defeat, get off, and walk him down into the valley. I mount up and we ride on. Not for long though. Gally stops again, and after more kicking, smacking, sweating and heaving I am forced to get off. This scenario repeats itself a number of times.

But it's not all bad. I get a couple of trots and canters. The trots are rushed, but the canter is just magic. And when a wallaby jumps out in front of us, Gally barely blinks an eyelid. I also have a chance to experiment with my seat during Gally's absolute refusal to move. Lean a bit forward, lean a bit back. Let of go of the reins. Smack on the shoulders, behind the leg, on the backside. During all this he barely lifts a leg.

In summary, I would just say that where other horses would pigroot, rear or shy, Gally just becomes the passive aggresive.

Tempo

I go to Anna for a lesson. She starts off by lunging Gally with side reins. Walk, trot and canter.

Then I jump on, determined to become the boss. I use the whip in walk to trot transition, and get told off. Oh, you just can't win. Apparently I need to become boss by using my legs. Ok. We do some work in trot. One minute Gally is too slow, then he is too fast. The problem is that the tempo he chooses is not the right tempo. And "you haven't worked out what your tempo needs to be yet", says Anna. Well, she's spot on there.

As we prepare to go into canter, Anna says "don't worry at all about where his head is. Just ride." I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We go into canter, and I sit back, feeling the tempo, and using seat voice and legs to keep it really active. It's great. I feel like a little kid again, belting around the arena without a care in the world.

I think Anna sees that it's actually working, and we do the same thing on the other rein. This time she asks me to gently ask him to stretch down with my inside hand. He plays with the bit, and comes slightly round. Finally, Anna has found an approach that works for both horse and rider.

I suddenly realise that this is probably the biggest challenge for a coach. A certain approach might work for a horse, but if the rider can't execute this approach, then you've got to find something else. To be fair, a coach must be given sufficient time to find an approach that works for both, and this may take several lessons, preferably in close succession.

At the end Anna hops on the horse herself. She rides brilliantly, and repeatedly shows me how he still bosses me around.

Testing the arena

The haying paddock has now been locked up, and I am forced to either ride out, or use the arena in the amphetheatre. I am a bit weary of the fact that it has no fence. Princess and Crownie have always had a slight issue with the open side. So I build a temporary fence around the open side. (Two sides have a high bank, where the arena has been cut into the hill.)

I saddle up Gally, and take him down there. He lunges well, and seems to accept the space, the view and the new fence. Then I ride him, and yes, he is still pulling faces at me. I really don't enjoy the "airs" stuff, so I try avoid using the whip. Gosh I am a big girly wuss. Surely there must be a better way.

I decide that he must learn to move off my legs. So, how about seeing how well he moves off one leg at a time. I do small circles in walk, getting him to move sideways off the inside leg, and yielding to the inside rein. Here, I start having some success. Ears forward, yielding to the rein, and moving off the leg. It's almost like I am speaking Gally's language, and now that he understands what I am asking he is happy to do it.

(I learnt the small circle trick from a western trainer when I had problems with Princess rearing. I ponder the idea of having a lesson on Gally with him.)

The next step is to make the circle larger, until eventually you are pretty much going straight. But we don't get that far in this session.

Pulling faces

Today we're off to Anna's again.

We're in walk and I am asking for more engagement, but it doesn't seem to be quite happening. I can see the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you, and you're doing nothing", says Anna. "Come on, get on with it".

Later on we're in trot, it feels sluggish, and the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you again", Anna calls out, almost amused. "What are you doing about it?"

I jab twice with the spurs, nothing. I apply the dressage whip behind my leg. Gally leaps into the air, all four legs off the ground, then trots on with more forward, ears pricked up.

"When he's not going forward, you need to get tougher", says Anna. "And yes, he will leap into the air. You just need to ride him through that. And next time you won't jab him in the mouth." I gulp. I really appreciate the advice and take it to heart. I just wish that I started learning with Anna when I was 20!

It's a horse!

I've been sick which means I've spent little time with my horses. When I have had time to spend with Gally, things haven't been going smoothly to say the least. I know what's going on. Gally is the boss of the paddock, so he has a dominant nature. So of course, he also gets dominant with me. You don't need to be a genius to work it out. I know I need to fix it, and soon. But how? How much do I smack him? How hard? How do I know when to stop? Do I always need to smack him?

For example. I put him out in the round yard and decided that I wouldn't smack him at all. Instead, every time he would do something I didn't approve of I would send him out and wait for him to submit. (This is based on Monty Roberts' training methods.) This worked a treat. Gally is really keen to work with people so he submits very quickly. But I can't use this method all the time and everywhere. It's one tool that works, but I need a whole suitcase of tools.

Smacking him on the backside stops him from kicking out. That's another tool I have. But what about when he puts his ears back when I put the saddle on? Or do the girth up? I need more tools. And so I arrive at Anna's loaded with questions.

Anna is superb. She has a good quick easy solution for most things I ask about. I open up my virtual suit case and start loading in the tools. It would take me weeks to describe them all here. But one thing is worth mentioning.

Anna has put Gally on the lounge with side reins on. She is encouraging him to step through and underneath. Gally is finding this a bit challenging, and at one point he just stops in protest. "Get on!" Anna calls out. He stands still. "Get on!" Anna repeats, and this time the whip flies. He trots on then settles down into an engaged walk. "He won't do that again." Anna speaks to me, while still fully focused on the horse. "You'll see, next time, he will respect the voice command. You have to just get on with it", she continues. "Ask for what you want and don't stop until you get it. And be quick about it. It's a horse. And he's a dominant horse." And if you give him time to think about things, he will find a way to dominate you.

Basically the message is this. If you want a horse to do something, keep demanding it until you get it. The minute you ease off, you teach the horse that whatever he did just before you eased off was the correct behaviour.

The second part is - you have to be quick. Horses are quick thinkers. Keep up!

The third part is - if it didn't work, then try something different. When Anna called out "Get on!" it didn't work. So she didn't follow it up with a louder, longer monologue. She followed it up with a flick of the whip. She tried something different. But, next time, she will still start with the voice. And eventually this will be enough.