Saddle fitting

I have said it before (see here), and I will say it again - money spent on a professional saddle fitting is the best money you will ever spend on your horse.

Firstly, the time had come to buy Sabina a saddle for Bel Bel.  I had been using my old 17 inch Bates Olympia, and while there is nothing wrong with this saddle; it was 1) too narrow for Bel Bel, and 2) too long for her back!  In addition to that, 6 year old Sabina was swimming in it.  Fine while you're walking, but anything beyond that and you're not doing your child's riding development any good.  Having conferred with other mothers at Pony Club, I went in search of a 15 inch saddle.

Sure enough, our local Horseland store had just the saddle in stock.  (Wintec All Purpose 250 (flock).)  Sabina sat in it in the store.  Then she sat in a 16 inch saddle.  Both the sales lady and I very quickly came to the conclusion that the 15 inch really is the right size for now.  So we arranged for the saddle fitter to come out, to make sure that the saddle fits the pony as well as the rider.

Well the saddle fitter sized up the pony, and changed the gullet.  Then he showed me exactly where the saddle sits well, and where it doesn't.  He explained how the saddle should sit no further than the horse's last rib.  Then he added some more stuffing, and an attachment point for a crupper - should we need one.  Finally, he showed me how, after all the adjustments, the saddle fits very well. 

Then we moved onto Lilly.  Initially I had ridden her in my Bates Caprilli All Purpose (with Cair), which had been fitted to Gally.  Then a friend lent me her Bates Maestro (dressage saddle, with Cair).  This had the medium gullet, and Lilly definitely preferred this saddle.

Enter saddle fitter.  Well, for starters - definitely medium gullet for Lil.  So the saddle fitter pulled out the blue (Gally's) gullet, and put the black one back in.  Then he had a look at the adjustment pads.  These were in totally the wrong place!  We suspect that while the saddle was being used on Gally, they were in the right place, but once the saddle was used on other horses (Lil, Dingo) they may have moved.  So he pulled out the pads, and put some new ones in.  We put the saddle back on Lil - the fit looked just perfect.

Lil's verdict - well when I used to do the girth up, she used to put her ears back and lash out with teeth.  She would never bite me, because she is just too nice, but she wasn't happy.  Now, she just sniffs my elbow if she notices that I am doing the girth up.  Sometimes, she doesn't notice, and she just stares off into space with a goofey look.

So, one question remains (two actually).  I have been riding Lil for about 8 months now.  Why didn't I have a saddle fitting done earlier?  Because I was too scared to part with that X amount of dollars!!!

What's the other question?  Cair or flock?  See my next post.

Farewell Gally

Almost a month ago we had a terrible storm. In our area it was quoted as a one in 500 year event. Wind, lightening and rain, rain and more rain. Sometime in that storm, somehow, Gally broke a leg and had to be put down. My more personal recollection of this event is recorded here and here.

Since the incident, friends have asked me how it happened? Well, the short answer is, I don't know. What I do know, is that it is not uncommon. Soon after I started riding, I got to know a girl who was into equestrian competition. She already had a mare for showing, and she had just bought a horse for jumping. It was a lovely horse in every way. Not flighty, nice to handle, nice to ride. The girl's property had good fencing, and was fairly flat. Three weeks later, the horse broke a leg and had to be put down.

I was very sad to hear this, and asked why it happened. The answer from the general equestrian community around me at the time, was that it was freak accident. No one saw it happen, so they don't know what happened. But, "it does happen", I was told.

A few years later I heard of another similar story. Quiet horse, flattish, safe paddock.

So, ever since I have owned horses, I have lived with the reality that one day it might happen to me. But I have also lived with the stories of how other riders, lost their horses and moved on. Got new horses, and rode on to bigger and better things.

Life, and "the show", goes on.

Approach and retreat

I took Gally out for a trail ride. I felt nice and relaxed, and just wanted both of us to enjoy something other than 20m circles in the arena.

We had the odd stop and look along the way, but overall Gally was walking out nicely. Until we got to the dam. The pool of water is nicely shaded, and looks dark and cold and mysterious. Gally stopped dead at the sight of it. He eyed off the bush to the right, but I quickly checked him with the left rein. So he backed up ten steps.

Normally, this would have sent me kicking him forward. But like I said, today I felt nice and relaxed. So when he backed up, I sat and waited. After what seemed like an "appropriate" amount of time, I kicked him forward. We got to the same spot, he looked at the water in the dam, and backed up again. Again, I waited calmly before asking him to go forwards again.

This game of approach and retreat repeated itself about three or four times. And then Gally went forward cautiously and walked past the dam like a pro. He was still nervous, but he was willing to trust me. I on the other hand did my job of staying relaxed and not working myself into a crazy frenzy.

I am convinced that as a result, we got past the dam faster than we would have if I had got all uptight about the situation. This is an approach that might not work with all horses, but it certainly works with Gally.

Sit still

Gally is now back in work, and today he highlighted to me the importance of sitting still.

I like to get my horses doing lots of turn on the forehand and turn on the hind quarters. It doesn't have to be perfect, the idea is to get the horse moving off my leg. When I was doing the turn on the forehand Gally was ok, but not super responsive. But when I tried a turn on the hind quarters, I brought my leg a smigin forward of the girth and boy did I get an instant reaction. That was fabulous.

I took my leg off and relaxed. Reward for the horse, thinking time for me. Why is Gally not that reactive behind the girth? Because my leg sits there the whole time, and I dig my spur in sometimes intentionally, sometimes in frustration, sometimes because it just dangles.

So I went back to my walk and trot work, paying exceptional attention to keep my leg and my hands very still. Hey presto. Magic. I got much better quality work. Oddly enough I got a better, more active trot, using less spur.

Now I will be the first to admit that coaches have told me this before - plenty of times. It took a horse to show me just how important it really is.

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.

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.

Gallop

The other day I went riding in the state forest with a friend. She was riding Bess, while I was on Gally. Unbeknown to my friend, the ride was supposed to test Gally. I haven't cantered Gally much, and I have never galloped him. Normally when I ride out, he still looks around too much at everything, to get him into a gallop. The only time he gallops is in the paddock, and then he throws in a couple of pigroots. So my question was - when he is with another horse, and galloping, will he pigroot?

A well trained horse should know the difference between playing in the paddock and being ridden, and they shouldn't pigroot with a rider. But with a green horse ... sometimes they forget.

Luck added another test for me - motorbikes. Not one group, but two! One from the front, one from behind. This had Gally rocking on the spot, but I was able to control him, which boosted my confidence a lot.

On the way home, my friend was in front, and I suggested that we go for a canter/gallop up the hill. She didn't need convincing, and kicked Bess into gear. I clamped my legs on tight, and waited for the pigroot. It never came. Instead, the thoroughbred woke up in Gally, and he galloped. And he raced. And he had to be first. And when he was first, he suddenly started getting all looky again and slowed down to a canter. But then he heard Bess breathing down his neck, and he got going again.

This time I kept the legs on and we cantered all the way to the top of the hill. Even when Bess had long ran out of steam and slowed down to a trot.

The listening horse

I hate it when horses do stuff because it's just routine. I want my horse to notice me, and listen to me. Listen to what I am asking it to do. A horse that listens to me, will also (hopefully) talk to me. Not in words, but in his own little horse language - raising of the head, attention of the ears.

Gally has now learnt to move his hind quarters away from me (and not kick out) when I gently push with my fingers. (Yay!) He has learnt to stand still (and not kick out) when I brush his hind quarters. (Yay!) But he is not great when it comes to picking up his back legs.

Just the other day though, I saw him thinking. I asked him to pick up a hind leg, and he initially stood still. I kept asking. So he moved away. I kept asking. So he lifted up his leg ... and kicked out.

Ok, so we're not quite there yet. Training in progress. But he was thinking. He went through all the motions that he knows I approve of, trying to find something that would satisfy my prodding.

(Please don't hold it against the horse for kicking out. Firstly, his kicking out is not very dangerous - I've seen much worse. Secondly, it is his natural reaction to being prodded by something. All I have to do, is replace the reaction with the response I would like.)

Riding Intuitively

I used to get my horse saddled, walk into the arena, glance at my watch, and then ride for an hour. I had some vague concept of a warm up, and what I wanted to work on, and then a cool down. But it had to be an hour. Sometimes, it was more. But I used my watch to tell me whether we were finished.

These days I ride a lot more intuitively. That is, I consult my intuition. Regarding everything.

I get my horse saddled and walk into the arena. Then I stop and listen to what my intuition tells me to do. Sometimes, I will walk my horse in hand a bit before getting on. I get on and again listen to my intuition. It might tell me to walk two 20m circles. But those two circles have to be perfect. Then I might change direction, and do three 20m circles. Then we might do some circles in trot. or go large, or do some turns on the forehand. And finally, my intuition will tell me that we are finished.

The beauty of riding like this is that you become a lot more in tune with your horse. Your riding is much calmer. You become a lot more focussed on the task at hand - which, oddly enough, is exactly what your horse is focussed on. And you search for perfection in your current task, because you don't know if that's the last task for the day or not.

When I ride Gally in this manner, he responds like a pro. He is keen to cooperate with me, and try and do what I am asking. In fact, his willingness to move away from my leg has astounded me. (Remember, this is a horse that was labelled "bomb proof" by my coach, and "a bit lazy" by my trainer.) Since I have started riding Gally in this manner, his progress has just astounded me.

(Usually these work outs last somewhere between 20 and 40 minutes. But it's all very high quality work.)

More about being friendly

So, how do you make friends with a horse? And what is the friendly game?

Well, you make friends with a horse by playing the friendly game. The friendly game is basically a session of stroking, rubbing and scratching in different places, in such a way that the horse finds it enjoyable, and friendly.

For most horses that are well broken in, a normal brushing session is sufficient, in principle. And, this is what I have managed to get away with so far. However, during my standard brushing sessions, I have never observed the horses reactions. Or rather, I have never taken any action based on the horse's reactions.

Princess was notorious for having days when she would pace left and right along the hitching rail. I just used to work around this, sometimes saying nasty things under my breath. Now, notice that Gally and Princess had this special connection - like attracts like. It's just that with Princess you could get away with working around the problem. With Gally, not so. He doesn't pace along the hitching rail. He stands very still, but he turns and bites you as fast as lightening. This made me so uncomfortable, that I had to find a solution.

The difference between ordinary brushing, and playing the friendly game, is that you observe how the horse reacts, and adjust your touching accordingly. If the horse puts his ears back you might change your stroking into scratching, or if the horse has stood very still while you stroke a sensitive area, then you might stop.

The friendly game makes a world of difference with Gally. He basically stops biting and kicking. He also becomes more willing to work for you under saddle - this is where the friendly game has exceeded my expectations.

Personally, I find the friendly game much more interesting and satisfying than brushing. I have always brushed my horses thoroughly - much to the amusement of some. But I did find it boring. Which probably created my "just get on and ride" attitude. The friendly game is a way of interacting with your horse, that is (in some ways) just as much fun as riding. So all of a sudden, I am in no hurry to get on any more, because I am having fun on the ground! How cool is that?!

Friendly Game

Gally standing quietly and happily at the hitching rail, after enjoying lots of friendly game.  Note Tornado in the background as buddy.

Friends

I have been observing Gally when I try to catch him, when I work with him, and when I let him go back out to the paddock with his friends.

When I put him out, I try to trick him. I will put him out via a gate, where he cannot see the other horses. Or, I will put him in a paddock by himself. His instant reaction, is to search for his paddock mates, and to round them up.

From this, I have come to the conclusion, that "friendship" and "security" are really important to Gally. Which means that, when I work with him, I must ensure that we are "friends", and that he feels secure.

It's elementary really. We're all like that. I work much better for a boss who comes across as my "friend", and makes me feel secure in my role. But I must admit, that I have never really paid that much attention to these. It's mainly been about "get on and ride" for me. Rather than, "hi, I am your friend, lets make sure you feel secure, and now that you're happy, I might hop on and have a ride".

Tornado's lament

I go out first thing in the morning to do some farming stuff. As I am approaching the house, Sabina pops her little head out the door. "Mama, let's go horse riding!", she commands. My dream has come true.

We grab Crownie and Tornado. I setup a little obstacle course. And off we go. Doing laps around the arena. Each of us doing sort of our own thing. But we keep talking and giggling as well, and it's a lot of fun.

After lunch and a rest, "Mama, let's go horse riding!" Sheesh. This time Sabina grabs Tornado, and I grab Gally. I don't quite trust Gally to ride him with Sabina, but I figure that a bit of playing around, and standing at the hitching rail will do him a world of good.

Now, recently, I purchased some DVD's from Wrangler Jayne. I've watched the first DVD and today I apply the learnings from this DVD to Gally. The transformation is amazing. Gally stops trying to rip the shirt off my back, and starts to gently ask if I can possibly keep rubbing his forehead.

Later when Sabina is riding, I bring Gally into the arena. Not riding, just leading. This is a bit risky, because if Gally takes off (and remember we are in a 7 acre paddock - the "arena" is simply the mowed part of the paddock), then Tornado may take off after him.

But taking off is not on Gally's agenda. He is quite happily focused on following me around the obstacle course. Every now and then he still throws in a little challenge, like a little mouthing with his lips on my jacket. I reprimand these, praise, then move on.

Sabina, of course, is also doing loops of the course, enjoying a trot and canter in between obstacles. Tornado is probably the least happy, but he puts up with it all.

At the very end of the session, Sabina insists that we wash Tornado. The hose and bucket come out, and Gally sighs a huge sigh of relief when he realises that only Tornado is being bathed.

Catching Gally

So here we are at the end of winter, and the winter rugs need to be taken off. As I am out of action, I beg and plead with my husband to take the rugs off. He managed to do two last weekend, and he is attempting to do the remaining two right now.

Gally comes up to him and seems friendly enough, until that is, the headstall appears in his hand. Then Gally is off. So Pete proceeds to take Crownie's rug off first - too easy. Then back to Gally. The little bay horse refuses to be caught, and trots circles around Pete.

We manage to coax Gally into a separate paddock. At least here Pete only has to negotiate the knee high weeds, and not other horses. But Gally seems more intent on showing off extended trots and collected canters than being caught. Finally we bite the bullet and move all the other horses out of sight. Pete goes into the paddock with an outstretched hand holding the head stall. Gally races up to him and sticks his head into the headstall.

Gally's update

The phone rings a smigin past 9am. It's Mark.

"Well, Jamie checked Gally out yesterday afternoon. He was out in his lower back quite badly. Almost kicked and bit a chunk out of Jamie, just as I was coming out to tell him to beware", Mark giggles over the phone. "Turns out he's got a torn muscle too. Will need two to three treatments with the machine, and then we can resume training."

I give Mark the go ahead.

It's a pity that my poor horse was feeling so crook. I had just bought the horse, and was still getting to know him. So it was hard for me to determine what was normal behaviour, and what wasn't.

The good news is, sounds like he is fixable.

Gally's progress

I call my trainer.

"Hi Mark! How's my horse going?"

"Well, we trotted him out and he seemed a bit short in his stride. So I ran my hand down his back, and he almost sat down!", the friendly laugh echoes down the phone line. "I'm having a bit of a problem getting hold of Jamie (horse chiropractor). Otherwise I like him. He'll be a good horse for you. Yeah sure he's a bit green, and there's no lateral mouth on him, and there's no lateral movement on him, and he lacks forward. But, lets get Jamie out to him, and see what happens then."

Sheesh. The conversation made me "almost" sit down.

What bothers me is that I flagged the back problem with Anna when I first started having lessons on Gally. And she just cut me off mid sentence and told me to get on with it.

Of course, that's no excuse. I should have checked the horse's back myself. Lesson learnt.

Crownie ... your horse chiropractor will be coming out to see you as soon as I can get hold of him.

The trainer

Today I took Gally to my trainer, Mark.

While I was there, I watched Mark in the process of braking in a young athletic filly. Athletic? Man, this horse was like a cat. She would twist this way and that. She was amazing. But Mark was equally amazing. He had an answer for everything she did, and he followed Tom Roberts principles of "This will profit you" and "This will profit you not" to the letter.

It was brilliant to watch, especially after finally understanding some of Gally's problems, some of my shortcomings, and the horse training principles as described by Tom Roberts.

Confidence

We ride out into the state forest again. Gally is still spooky. So I start riding like I mean it. Then we come to the puddle. The same one as yesterday. Except that it rained overnight, and the puddle is bigger. Not deeper. Just wider.

Gally skirts around the edges of it for a while. I turn him away, and try to back him into it. No go. I turn him around, and drive him forwards. All of a sudden he finds himself half in the puddle. I drop the reins, and let him stand there. He seems mistified.

We go out of the puddle and come back in again several times. Every time, I allow him time to just stand and relax in the puddle.

Finally we go on. We take a track into the valley, and then we canter up the hill. Gally breaks into trot when he sees a big log. I spur him on, back into canter. Half way up (the hill is about 2km long) I allow him to trot, then we canter on.

At the top, we relax in a loose rein walk. He is no longer spooking, but the walk is lazy. I spur him on into a more active walk, and even a loose rein trot. Every now and then I pat him with the crop.

When we come to a ditch full of water, I make him step across it. He hesitates briefly, then goes forward. We practice this about 5 times, until the tentative step turns into a cruisy little leap.

Then Gally thinks it's time to head home. He doesn't play up, he just faces in the direction of home, and refuses to budge. I spur him on, and give him a serious talking to. Yes, with my voice. I am so loud that I can probably be heard a mile around. And like a typical woman, I go on a bit too. The effect is great! Not only is Gally not spooking any more, he is actually walking forwards really well.

On the way home, we see some sheep. I ride on with confidence, with an attitude that we are "above sheep". Gally steps proudly forwards, and barely blinks an eyelid at the little creatures, as they scuttle away from the fence.

About that spook

We ride out into the state forest, and Gally is spooky once again. He stops and stares at logs and bushes. More so than he did two weeks ago.

Just recently, my dad mentioned that perhaps I am too aware what Gally might spook at, and so he spooks because I expect him to. I think he is half right. Most of the spooking Gally does is at stuff I could never predict would be spooky. So, he doesn't exactly spook because I expect him to. However, I don't think I ride him with enough "we can conquer all" confidence. I don't ride with enough arrogance (maybe because my mother has spent most of her efforts trying to erradicate it from me). I don't ride with enough "we're above it all". I don't ride like I'm going to win the battle.

It's not a physical problem. Physically, I have the skills to ride like that. It's a psychological problem. Poor attitude. Poor focus. It's the little voice talking it up - Gally might take off, or might do one of his "twist left, twist right" tricks. Or he might pig root.

He might do one of those. Or all three. So?

So I start riding like I mean it. And Gally doesn't do a thing. He just gets on with it and goes forward. And I gain confidence. And on the way home we even play around at the edge of a big, but shallow, puddle.