June Pony Club

They say that a picture tells a thousand words.  Well, here are a few words for those that still need a caption added to the above photo.

We went to pony club.  Sabina was riding Tornado, and she had an absolute ball going over the jumps.  (She has never ever jumped before).  And ... the minature (pony) can jump.

Horse play time

Today, when I went to get Lilly from the paddock, she snorted at me, struck out and gallopped off. Dingo followed, pigrooting along the way. At the end of her run, she did a little rear, and gallopped back, throwing a double barrel at Mo on her way back. She arrived at the gate, mane flowing, eyes blazing, nostrils flaring. She snorted, and was off again, showing the agility of a cat. Twisting this way and that, rearing, striking, double barrelling, pigrooting. The two geldings could barely keep up with her.

I have seen some pretty impressive horses in my lifetime, but I have never seen one this agile. The ground was slippery, and yet Lilly never missed a beat, never slipped, never ever lost her ground or confidence.

Every time she arrived at the gate, there was never any anger in her at me. Never any nastiness or evasiveness. Never any fear. Had I stepped into the paddock, I could have probably easily caught her. But I was too interested in trying to understand what was going on.

Lilly was playing. And, I think, she was inviting me to join in.

There's a massive difference between horses playing, and horses being dominant. When they are dominanat the kicks are meant to make contact, the bites are meant to leave a scar. And many humans have lived to tell the tale of their horse trying to dominate them. But, when horses are playing, the kicks are done at a safe distance, and there's some head shaking and striking, but no biting. That's exactly what Lilly was doing.

Being invited into horse playtime is a huge compliment. It shows an amazing amount of trust. It's like the golden handshake between man and horse. Once you have this sort of trust from your horse, you can really start asking for respect, and when you have respect, then you can really start asking your horse to work for you. Work with you. It means that your relationship with your horse stems from trust and respect. Not from fear.

So, what had I done to be trusted and invited into horse playtime by Lilly? It was the leadership I had shown at Adult Riding Club last weekend. Despite the session looking like an absolute disaster, I was able to pull myself together, and be brave, firm and fair. I was able to show Lilly that when she listens to me, when I am the leader (the leader; not a raging, angry tyrant), she is safe.

Unscathed

This morning, I headed out to Lilly's paddock, headstall in hand.

I wasn't intending to ride her.  I didn't even really want to catch her.  I was far too sore for that.  It was just a test.  A test to see how she felt about yesterday.

If she was going to turn away from me, then yesterday was a bad day, and I had more ground to make up.  If she was going to turn towards me, then any problems created by yesterday had already been fixed yesterday.

Lilly gazed at me, she gazed at the headstall, turned towards me and came right up.

Wrong instruction

Today I rocked up with Lilly to Adult Riding Club. My main aim was to socialise her with other horses. She was "looky" but overall I thought we started well, and she was willing to listen to me and go anywhere I asked.

I told the instructor where we were at, and after a couple of laps of the arena, the instructor asked me to do one-rein-stop type circles, every time Lilly increased pace or did a stride of trot. And I had to do these circles until she stopped. And can I please take my legs off the horse.

I will say here, that my intuition was screaming at me that this is the wrong thing. And in fact after a couple of these circles, I could feel that Lilly wasn't so happy and she was losing respect for me. But, I chose to listen to the instructor. (What sort of naive idiot am I?)

Well, Lilly very quickly worked out, that since my legs weren't on, she could go wherever she liked, as long as she just circled. And very quickly we circled out of the arena. Now at this point, I stopped circling, and tried to kick her forward. But of course she had lost respect, I had lost confidence, and she was no longer listening to forward. The instructor? Well, she seemed totally oblivious to the situation at hand.

Eventually, when I was almost back at the float, she noticed. And, incidentally there was another instructor, who was mounted, and she asked him to help me. Did he not notice me spiralling out of the arena either? I've got to check, maybe I was wearing the cloak of invisibility?

As he approached, on his horse, who was unfamiliar to Lilly, Lilly almost had kittens. And it just made her back out all the faster. She tried to pigroot, and when I reprimanded her for that, she reared. Just a little rear.

After that encounter, Lilly no longer wanted to have anything to do with all of this. So finally I asked one of the kind bystanders to lead her back into the riding field. I dismounted and led her back to the float.

I relaxed, had something to eat and drink, enjoyed the sunshine, then proceeded to fix the problems, before they became a habit.

First, I brought Lilly out into the field and lunged her. I lunged her left, and I lunged her right, and made sure that she listened. I didn't necessarily lunge her for very long - I didn't really want to go from one set of boring circles to another. The emphasis was on making sure she listens. She had to listen when I told her to go out, and she had to listen when I told her to keep going, and she had to listen when I told her to stop. But quite often I would stop her every 3 or 5 circles.

Then I took her back to the float.

Then I brought her out again, this time on the lead rope. I made her go forwards and backwards. I made her go on a circle - like lunging - but usually just one circle. Then I would stop her and make her back up. If she tried to eat the grass, I made her back up. If she tried to come forward, I made her back up. If she tried to rear, I made her come forward. Always making her move, always being unpredictable, always making her notice me, rather than the surroundings.

Then I took her back to the float. I put the bridle on, and led her back out into the riding area.

Here, I mounted again. And I worked her first in walk - in nice large circles, with leg on, making sure she was going towards the float, and away from the float. I made her walk towards the north and back south. I made her walk east, then west. I made her do some leg eilding. Then we progressed onto trot.

Once I was satisfied that she was working well, I stopped, gave her a huge pat, and gently walked her back towards the float. As I was doing so, the instructor on the horse came cantering towards me, passing a whisker behind me. Lilly, once again, nearly had kittens. I realise that if I take my horse to a competition, this sort of thing will happen. But that's why I am not at a competition! That's why I am at Adult Riding Club. So that if I am having trouble with my horse, people can be considerate and help me out a bit! Hello?

To summarise, the original instructor meant well.  The advice was good advice.  It was just the wrong advice for that horse.  And I should have just listened to my intuition.  But that means not listening to the instructor.  So where does that leave me in terms of learning and progressging?

Another day, another ride

So, we went riding again today. In the state forest. Lilly and I. My friend on her horse. The clouds threatened, the track was wet, the air fresh. The mushrooms were rapidly growing out of the needles under the pine trees.

The few puddles provided handy obstacles for Lil. I asked her to go through some of the bigger puddles and she was a good sport.

We did the obligatory canter.

"She's pretty relaxed. She is ready to go out by herself now", commented my friend towards the end of the ride. I think I've found myself a new coach.

Or maybe my friend is just sick of opening gates for me.  Should I, perhaps, get off my high horse?