Family Ride

The sun is shining, the grass is green, and we're off on our first ever all family horse ride. Pete is on Bess (thanks Lisa, again), Sabina on Tornado, and I am riding Gally. And, by sheer coincidence we are all wearing red coloured jodhpurs!

Pete hasn't ridden for over a year, and while he doesn't lack confidence, he is a touch rusty. Nevertheless, I give him the task of being the fearless leader. And he does well. I ride second, and Sabina weaves in and out as she pleases.

Sabina's weaving is great training for Gally, who seems to have a real issue with being passed by Tornado. The ears go back, and he swings his backside. Well tries to. I straight away correct him (meaning he gets a solid jab with the spur in the ribs), until I see the ears go forward again. Then I relax - the reward.

Towards the end of the ride Sabina gets a bit tired. Not that we've gone far. But she insists that I ride with her side by side. Never mind that Pete is allowed to ride about 50m in front of us. This is another fantastic exercise for Gally, who ends up almost prancing on the spot at one time.

I can't wait to do it all again soon.

Pony Club Trail Ride

We wake up refreshed. Sabina gets dressed, finds Chelsea, and off they go, hand in hand.

My morning is busy with packing up tent, and checking that I have brought all the right gear for the horses. Yes, horses. We're off on a trail ride today. Sabina will be riding Tornado, and I have brought a horse for myself too.

When Sabina hears that Chelsea may not be riding, she almost forgoes the whole activity. Luckily, Chelsea is keen to come along, even if it means riding double on the pony with her older sister.

There is a fair bit of assembling and standing around. Sabina is somewhat impatient. Then when we finally get going, even Tornado is keen to strike up a trot. Sabina is annoyed at her pony, and it takes a fair bit of explaining from me, before she starts being tougher and enjoying herself. But it's great to give her the experience of riding in such a big herd.

After the trail ride, and lunch, Sabina and Chelsea play "house" in the back of the float. One is sweeping, while the other is wiping off the dust. They are welcome in my float any time!

Finally, Santa arrives in a little jog cart. All the children get presents. Sabina ends up with this huge present, the smile on her face even bigger. She rips off the wrapping paper to discover a rock guitar. The smile disappears off her face in a jiffy. "Mama, I didn't want a guitar! I don't even like guitars", she moans. I could do some moaning of my own.

When we get home, Sabina unpacks the guitar, while I unpack the car. (I could really do some moaningnow.) All of a sudden, the unwanted toy comes alive, and becomes the best thing since daily bread. Especially, when Papa gives us his best rock guitarist demo, still in his farm clothing. It has us in stitches.

Pony Club Camp Out

Pony club has organised a camp out. So we arrive at the pony club grounds in the late afternoon. Evidently too late to get a yard. Tears follow. All afternoon, I have been asking Sabina to hurry up with the packing and not get distracted, or we will be late. Which part did she not understand?

Anyhow, we come to a sharing arrangement with one lady, which means we get to put Tornado in the yard for now. Enough to stop the tears, and we will deal with the rest later.

Then we start putting up the tent. Here, Sabina is all help and focus. Once the tent is up, she is busy moving our mats and sleeping bags inside the tent. Then she disappears into the tent herself, and plays "set-up house".

Eventually, she reappears and strikes up a friendship with Chelsea. Well, from now on I get an onslaught of questions - "Mum, can we do this?", "Mum, can we use that?" - but I no longer have to worry about entertaining my little girl, and "trying" to make pony club fun.

After dinner, we have presentations. All sorts of trophies are handed out, and then all the kids get a sash and a medal - with their name engraved on it! Pretty special.

We're in bed by 10pm and settle for a very comfortable sleep. One of the horses, yarded nearby, takes it upon himself to give us weather updates throughout the night. "Neigh, rain is coming!". Sure enough, we hear the rain pitter patter on the tent. "Snort, rain is gone." Thanks mate!

Neerim Show

The Neerim Agricultural Show is our closest show, so off we go to give Sabina some showing experience. I have just had chemo a week ago, and the effects are at it's peak - I have got such aches and pains that most of the time I can barely move. My husband has been suffering from a stomach bug, so he is feeling worse for wear.

We try to make the experience "fun" rather than "serious". This has Sabina riding around with a huge smile on her face, although some of the time she doesn't get it all right, she cuts corners, and kind of just lets her pony take her where he will. Tornado is so reliable, that he doesn't take her anywhere much, other than cutting off the said corners.

In the end we end up with about 4 third places, and one second. Sabina gazes at the white ribbons, and bemuses that she really would have liked a range of colours. Initially we try to explain why she came third, but we soon realise that the message is just not getting through, yet. *sigh*

In fact, the highlight of the show seems to be meeting some friends from pony club, and talking about the next pony club rally.  Oh, and the bling browband Tornado is wearing.

What's in it for me?

When you work with your horse, what's in it for them?

While you think about that, let me tell you this story. Seemingly not horse related, yet very insightful.

Last night my husband came home grumpy. He came inside, saw me at my computer, in the middle of the dinner table, trying to sell items on eBay. Dinner was nowhere in sight. Peace, quiet and tranquility were missing. His grumpiness got worse. Fair enough.

I got dinner on the table, and we got chatting. "There's all this outstanding paperwork to do, and you're selling items on eBay?", came his gripe. Yeah, ok. Fair enough. He had a point.

Immediately after dinner, I retreived the said outstanding paperwork, and started processing it. Husband gave me a nod of acknowledgement, and sat down opposite, doing his bit of the outstanding paperwork.

He was no longer "grumpy", but he wasn't relaxed either. It's like he was stressed. Here I was, doing exactly what he had asked me to do, and he was stressing. Biting his finger nails and all. I loved doing the work he asked for, but I couldn't stand his attitude. It drove me nuts. Why couldn't he relax? Why couldn't he look up every now and then and say a nice word or two?

The harder I seemed to work, the more he seemed to stress. It was getting rediculous! Where is my reward? All I want him to do is to relax! I am doing exactly what he asked, he should be happy. Well, if he isn't going to be happy and relaxed then I will just dig my heels in and stop. What's the point? There is grumpiness if you don't do anything, and stress if you do.

That's exactly how a horse feels. Exactly. I am certain of it. The horse wants to do something for you, and when they do it, they need you to relax, as acknowledgement. You relaxing, is the horse's reward.

Worming

Recently, or maybe not so recently, I wormed the horses. They all were good to work with except for one. Mo. He threw his head up in the air so high and so fast that I was left speechless. There is no way in the world I can fight with that.

Since Mo is kept in a communal paddock he must be wormed on the same day that the other horses are wormed. So I had to sit there and think a bit.

When my husband built the hitching rail, he built it pretty solid. Big, thick, strong logs.

So I got my super strong (cost me a fortune) head stall and lead rope, put that on Mo, and wrapped the lead rope around the hitching rail twice. I held the left over end, and took a step towards Mo, worming paste visibly in my hand.

The head went up, I let the rope slip over the hitching rail a bit, but not too much. Once the horse came down, I tightened it again. Then Mo realised the fight was on. Well, we got mini rears, little rears, a big rear or two. The struggle lasted for about 10 minutes, then Mo arched his neck and licked his lips.

I cocked a leg and waited. After all, he was a good boy for just not pulling back. Then I approached him, and just slid the worming paste in the side of his mouth, squeezed the siringe, and we were done. No more fuss.

I stood back looking at the horse and gave myself a little pat on the back.

Enter the float

When Gally first arrived on our property he didn't have much trouble getting on the float. He was used to an agle float, so getting off used to be a bit confusing for him. Over time, he became resistive to getting on the float though. What happened?

I thought that maybe I had been driving too fast, so I slowed down. The problem of loading Gally was getting worse. I thought that maybe the old float was too rickety, and he would like the new float better. Not so. Us girls, we're sometimes very good at making silly excuses like that. "Oh it's my driving.  Oh it's the float".

Now my husband and I, can generally get a horse on the float. We've got our methods, which are gentle and sensible enough. But I want a horse that will get on and off the float when I ask him to. I want to be able to get the job done by myself. And since the horse used to get on the float without fuss, I had to admit to myself that I had done the damage there, although I was totally unaware of what, perhaps, I could have done wrong.

Now, I must admit, that the only time I loaded Gally on a float was when I needed to go somewhere. You know. Have a lesson booked early in the morning, should have gotten up at 6, but got up at 6:30. Then had trouble catching the horse, by the time we're near the float I'm exasperated, running late, and my pre-made coffee is getting cold in the car. And then I try to load the horse.

So, I have decided it's time to develop a routine, and practice it when we're not actually going anywhere. My routine goes something like this: attach the float to the car, roll it out and open it up; get the horse and brush him (friendly game) and put boots on him.

Then the training starts with leading him near the float, and standing on the ramp. Cock a leg and relax. Here I look for the horse to put his head down and start sniffing the float. When enough sniffing is done, I try to get both front hooves on the ramp (not the float, just the ramp), pat, relax and back up. When he can do this well, I try and get all four hooves on the ramp, pat, relax and back up. Then it's front hooves in the float, and finally all hooves in the float. If the horse pulls back, he goes straight back on, to his previous position. The only time he is allowed to back up, is when I have asked him to. If the horse refuses to go forwards onto the ramp then I use my carrot stick on his hind quarters - the second he takes a step forward, I stop using the carrot stick and relax.

My first attempt to get Gally on the float takes me about an hour, and leaves me in a lather. But I get him on. Pete is there to witness it. Next time it takes 10 minutes. And by the third time it takes 5 minutes. Then we start to focus on Gally being on the float for increasingly longer amounts of time.
 
After each float loading session I ride Gally, as though it's all just part of our routine.  Albeit a sweaty one at times.

Been riding

I haven't been writing much, but I have been riding. And now I sort of don't know where to start - so much has happened. My horse has once again taught me so many lessons, that I am barely keeping up with him

Today is meant to be a hot day, but I am very lucky to wake up at 6. I sneak out of the house and grab my horse.

My routine has changed somewhat. I brush my horse, then put boots on. Then some days I practice loading him onto the float. Not today. More about that later. Other days, I take him around and play with him. Make him jump the ditch, make him walk over the gravel mound, make him walk between barrels. Whatever tickles my fancy, as long as it's fun.

Then I return to the hitching rail and saddle up and venture into the arena.

In the arena I do a warm up. Yes. I actually do a warm up. Not a vague few circles that are meant to be a warm up, but are really just vague riding, wondering what in the world a warm up is supposed to be. But a real "listening to the horse" kind of warm up.

Is the horse listening to my leg? Does he go forward? Can he do a circle? Can he flex? Is he ready to accept the bit? Does he stop? Is he ready to go forward more? Is he still looking around at the sights and sounds?

What I have found is that Gally is now ready to really stretch out in the walk. He can lower his neck and relax. He can stride out. I no longer need to push him every second stride, but I can just sit there and enjoy the ride.

But, walk him across the diagonal and the game changes. At this point I need to explain that I ride in a grass arena, that has been mowed recently. So clumps of mowed grass are lying everywhere. Not on the track, not on the 20m circle - just everywhere else. And ... guess what ... Gally is worried about this grass. I mean today we saw a lizard in that grass, yesterday there was a mouse.

I see this as a great training opportunity. I walk him over it, and drive, drive, drive. I do it untill I feel him stride out again. The second he strides out, I sit very still. That's his reward. One day that grass will become a bale of hay, and we will be jumping over it. And by then he will know that he just needs to go forward, over the obstacle.

Round the block

There is a small loop that one can ride in the state forest. Normally, it takes me about 1 hour. Dead Cow marks about one third of the way around. (Or, two thirds, depending on your direction).

Sabina and I have been working up to riding the loop. We would ride towards Dead Cow, a little bit further each time. One day we got to Dead Cow, and Sabina was really excited to find old bones strewn all over the place. Finally, we attempted the loop.

We rode to Dead Cow, tied up the horses and had a snack and a drink. The bones were as exciting as ever.

Then we rode down into the valley. Sabina was still enthusiastic, although being in new territory, she didn't like it when I got too far ahead. Tornado kind of lost the flair for riding out, and was convinced we should turn back and ride home. So I was kind of stuck between "Mama, wait for me!!!" and "Mama, keep going!!!".

Eventually, we got into the valley and turned for home. Tornado got a fresh spring in his stride, and my brave little rider girl had to deal with a pony that was too keen. "Mama, he trotted when I didn't ask him to!" All of a sudden I had visions of Tornado galloping off, Sabina wildly holding onto his mane and screaming for him to stop.

I needn't have worried. Half way up Invert track, everyone was out of puff. Time for another break. Except that this time there was no convenient tree to tie the horses to, and I had to stand holding both of them, while brewing up plans for Pete and his chainsaw.

When we mounted up again, Sabina was visibly over it. Luckily, we could see the tree at the top of the track.

"See that tree?", I asked.

The little girl gazed at me vaguely.

"Well, once you get to that tree, you'll be able to see our farm house", I continued.

"Really?", the vagueness vanished, spirits returned and we joyously ventured home.