lessons in riding, 2

Yesterday I had a fair number of things to get done and ended up walking out to the barn to ride in the late afternoon. Keil Bay came in and stood at the gate, waiting to be let in to the barnyard and barn aisle. I groomed him in the barnyard, as he was covered in dried mud - between dust and horse hair and wind it was quite an undertaking. About the time I brought him in to the barn to tack up, one little thing got in my way and I felt my frustration level skyrocket. It's not really important what it was, but had nothing to do with the horses. Let's just say it was a middle-aged mother- teen-aged daughter moment.

I didn't want to ride in that mode, so I unhaltered the Big Bay (who seemed confused that I was leaving) and quietly came inside.

As I sat here doing some work on the computer, my body began to tighten up. From ankle to neck, I could feel each set of muscles progressively contracting. It was the exact opposite of progressive relaxation. I was still agitated internally - I had wanted to ride, had gotten all my chores and errands done, and although it was windy out and the hay tent was blowing up like a blowfish with each gust, I felt Keil Bay and I could handle it.

But I allowed one small thing to get in my way.

At that point I decided I was too tense to ride anyway. Time passed. It was going on six p.m. And I thought, well now it's too late to ride. But then something hit my mind, like an actual little missile of thought that came from someplace else, and it was: it gets dark later now. go ride.

So I got up and walked right out to the barn. Every bit of tightness in my muscles left. And when I glanced around to see where the Big Bay was, I saw him standing right by my bedroom window. I hadn't even glanced outside when I'd been at my desk, I'd been so drawn up in my body tightness and agitation. He'd come down there and, I think, summoned me out of my mood.

I finished grooming him and picked his hooves and tacked up. I'd decided to use his old eggbutt snaffle - I have three bridles for him now, one with his loose ring double-jointed snaffle, one with the old eggbutt single joint, and his Rambo Micklem bitless. He didn't want the old eggbutt. He raised his head away from it, and then when I asked him to put his head down, he did, but closed his teeth. So I got the bitless and he stuck his head right into it.

The ride was good. We did a lot of big walking. He was forward but not spooky (there was a lot of flapping going on around us) and he spontaneously went into trot several times. We did a lot of walking and then did trot work in both directions. I probably go overboard building so slowly back into work with him, but don't ever want him to be sore, so I am careful when we haven't ridden in awhile.

Back in the barn, I untacked and gave him his handful of alfalfa pellets. But he wouldn't leave the tack room. He kept standing there, nuzzling me, just being with me. Even when a load of hay wheeled by, heading out to the back field, Keil Bay took a bite and then stayed put. I went and opened the gate to the paddock, inviting him to go out, but he looked at me and then stayed where he was.

I stood rubbing him and then yes, gave him another handful of pellets. And still he stood there. We visited, I put a few things away, rubbed him some more, and all the while he stood looking at me, totally focused. So of course I gave him another handful. "But this is the last one, really," I said, and then rubbed him all over his face and head.

I walked to the arena gate, thinking I'd see if he wanted to go that way to get to the back field, and he came right with me, and stood with me in the arena even when I opened the gate to the back. I'm not sure what he was saying with this lengthy visit, but I think it was this:

Don't let the little things keep you from riding. I'm here.