The Carrot Stick

I've bought myself an official Pat Parelli Carrot Stick. (Yes, it is orange.)

I'm not a big fan of buying specifically endorsed training aids because, usually, they are over-advertised, and over-priced.

However, I have been watching Wrangler Jayne's videos (which are fantastic, thank you Jayne), and I now understand how to use the carrot stick to train the horse, and that an ordinary dressage or lounging whip just doesn't cut the mustard.

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.

Be tough ... once

When I talked with Clancy last week I asked him "How tough do I need to be with my horse?"

The answer was "If your horse is being naughty, then do anything you need to do, to get them out of your space. The instant they have backed off, stop."

This is pretty much what Pat Parelli, and other horsemen and women, say. Except that Pat Parelli applies the 10 point scale. Start soft, and build it up. That might be fine when your horse is standing still, pretty much asleep. It's a bit different when you are trying to saddle the horse, and he is lashing out with his teeth at you.

So today when I bring Gally to the hitching rail, I don't tie him to it. I just let the rope wrap around the rail once. I put the saddle blanket on, and the teeth lash out. I retaliate with the back of my hand at break neck speed, with all the force I can muster. Gally, astounded, takes a step back. The rope slips with him. I put the saddle on. The ears go back, but no more teeth. Then I do the girth up. The teeth come at me again, and again I retaliate and Gally is forced to retreat a step.

Today, when I mount up, he doesn't try to bite me.

Response versus Reaction

The farrier arrives, and I bring Gally in for shoeing.

"Clancy, I need your help", I announce.

We talk about my problems with Gally, and Clancy (who is well versed in Monty Roberts and Pat Parelli and other horsemen) has a bit of a play with Gally. He holds the head stall with one hand, and tries to get the horse to step away from him by poking him in the ribs with the other hand (the pressure increases as the horse doesn't respond). In the end Gally cow kicks, and then moves away from the pressure.

"Did you see that?", says Clancy, seeming very pleased. I gaze somewhat bored. Of course I saw it.
"Yes", I respond politely.
"The cow kick, was a reaction", says Clancy. "The moving away was response." Pause. "I wouldn't worry about the kick. As he learns to respond, that cow kick will just go away", he concludes.

I wake up from my bored gaze. Eureka! This is it! This is that bit of information I was missing, and I didn't know how to ask about it, or what it was that I was asking about. Reaction versus response.

Most horses will react in some way. Most horses react by running away. And this makes them look like they are easy to train. They are never perfect, but kind of close enough to good enough.

A response is when a horse actually understands the command. This is what most people are searching for.

Less Parelli, more riding

Today I still play some Parelli games with Gally, but not as many as yesterday. I actually do get bitten while saddling. Sigh. And there's a few more attempts at biting as I lead him down into the arena. In the arena I lounge him, Parelli style. On a 12 foot rope, bit of walk, bit of trot, an obstacle. It's all about changing the exercise and making him aware of my commands, rather than taking steam off him.

When I finish the lunging, I put the bridle on. This goes more smoothly than yesterday, and I am very pleased.

Then of course it's all marred as Gally tries to bite me when I mount up.

When I start riding, I throw the Parelli stuff away, and just ride normal dressage. After about 20 minutes, Gally stops, thinking he is finished. This is actually excellent. This is exactly what he does out on the trail, and now I have a chance to work through it slowly. Incidentally, I am riding without spurs or whip today.

I focus on the timing. He stops, and braces his neck. I wait. I flex him gently with the rein, then I ask him to yield - first with one leg, then with the other. Then he goes forward again.

It appears to be more about ignoring the fact that he stopped, and just asking him to go forward. It's about not venting your frustration at the wrongs, but just trying to get the rights.

For me as a rider, it becomes more about the mental challenge (of not losing my cool) than anything else.

More Parelli

Today I play some more Parelli games with Gally. This time I intend to ride him as well. I get him saddled (which is not a smooth process - more about that another time), and I pull out the bridle. He is standing tied to the hitching rail. I approach with the bridle, and the head goes up a bit and away from me. Obviously this makes it hard to put the bridle on.

I untie him, and move him a couple of steps away from the hitching rail. I shake the bridle around, then proceed to put it on. To my great surprise, Gally doesn't move his head away. He doesn't exactly open his mouth in anticipation, I still have to open his mouth with my finger, but the head doesn't move away. This is fantastic.

Then he tries to bite me when I mount up. Sigh.

Parelli

I have become so frustrated with my issues with Gally, that I have started re-reading Pat Parelli's book. Oddly enough, it seems to make a lot more sense these days, than it did 6 years ago.

I have also ordered two of his DVD's - Horseanality and Seven Games. The videos are quite inspiring, and I Parelli around with Gally. And it's kind of fun. I get Gally to jump the ditch, and that's definitely a lot of fun. Even Gally seems to enjoy it.

But at the end of it all I am still left wondering. Is he really listening? Am I too weak or too strong? Will our next riding session be better?

It feels to me like there is a really crucial piece of the horse training puzzle that I am missing. And I don't know what question to ask, and no one is providing the answer. It is very very frustrating to say the least.