When to quit stimulating

Last week, when I was having trouble on the cross country course at Wandin, after I was already eliminated, Jen (Gally's previous owner and rider) came up next to me and gave me some coaching. She said this. "When he has stopped and doesn't want to go forward, kick him. And as long as he is standing still, or going backwards, keep kicking him. But the minute he takes a step forwards, stop kicking him, and make sure you don't jab him in the mouth."

This is in line with Pat Parelli - when the horse has done the desired action, quit stimulating him.

So today I ride Gally into the state forest, determined to practice Jen's words to death. I don't have to wait long to get my first chance. Just a mere 300m out the last gate, Gally stops. I sit back and start kicking. He stands still, he goes left, he goes back. It feels like I am going to be kicking like that foreever. Eventually he takes a step forward. I quit kicking immediately. He takes another two or three steps forward, then stops again. I allow him a second or two to think about it, then commence kicking again. When he takes a step forward, I stop kicking. This process goes on for quite a while, maybe 5 minutes, but eventually we calmly walk past the stump and shrub that were worrying him. This is great! My first real victory. I feel terrific.

I get many more chances to practice the technique, and we get past many points that have worried Gally in the past. And each time, the process gets easier and easier. We are almost at the end of a track, and ready to head home, when I hear a noise. Motorbikes. We can't actually see them. They will pass below us, then head up to the top, and then pass behind us. But Gally doesn't know that. He just hears the noise, like a hundred growling tigers galloping somewhere beneath us. He turns and tries to head back. I hold him on the spot and eventually he calms down. But he is very suspicious of heading down that track. He gets over that too.

As we head home, we pass a puddle. It's tiny, my foot could barely fit in it, but Gally makes sure to keep a safe distance from it regardless. I laugh. We will find a bigger puddle one day, and get over this problem too. We have time.

We head back up the hill, and there in the pine plantation, in the knee high grass are four run away sheep. Gally spots the movement, and gulps. To him, they are four wolves in sheep's clothing. Of course. After a mere moment of hesitation he continues up the hill, acutely aware of the four sheep, but relaxed otherwise.

A ride that good I haven't had for a long time.