Tuesday, July 13, 2010

a reposted piece of pony work

 I'm reposting the following, which was originally titled "play therapy with ponies" - because it came after a tough spell of riding and training during which my daughter was readying to do her pony club D3 rating, and although the pony had proven his ability to jump the required height (and higher, with balance and beauty) he suddenly became sour and although everyone around her was encouraging her to go through with the rating, she decided not to, because she felt the pony needed her to listen to him and honor what he was telling her.

In retrospect, I believe that was the best decision we've ever made regarding a horse. Since that time, and since the video below, she has focused on relationship instead of ratings. She spent an entire year riding him with no agenda except that of creating harmony and softness. She has taken him to dressage schooling shows and done well, and right now she's riding him bareback on a near daily basis. He's no longer sour to the jumps, and I think the bottom line is that he knows she won't force him into anything that is scary or that hurts.

I've seen him stand at the arena gate and wait for her when she runs inside to use the bathroom or get a drink of water, his eyes glued to our back door. She has a deeper connection with him than she ever would have had she gone against everything he was saying to her and done that rating.

I'll try to get some new video footage today to show the two working together. You'll see a much taller girl and her ten-year old pony.


Reposted portion:

Today, out at the barn, we were playing around and decided to use an old rein as a cordeo to see what Apache Moon might do. He was a pretty good sport once we got him into the arena. She rode him bareback and with the cordeo for a half-hour, walking and trotting and cantering. He kept circling toward a jump in the arena, which was a bit high for today's play, so I lowered it nearly to the ground. The pony was obsessed with that jump. He kept circling right and taking the little jump at a canter over and over again, even though he could have easily trotted over it without breaking stride. It was as though he were working through some conflict about jumping. It reminded me quite a bit of traumatized children in play therapy, and how they will sometimes replay the trauma over and over again. It was fascinating to see Apache Moon choose repeatedly to jump with my daughter astride, no saddle or bridle, when he was in total control of where he was going.

After awhile I encouraged her to hop off and do some ground work with him. What he did was so cute she ran in to get the camera. I was sitting in the arena on the mounting block and when she went inside, he stood at the gate watching the back door of the house for her return. There was grass at the edges of the arena he could have nibbled on, but he didn't even look at it. It was pretty amazing. I wish I had video of him waiting for her - his focus never shifted.

So here's one little piece of what they did together today. It's by no means the first time they've done this kind of play together, but it's the first time we've captured it on video. She is using no treats and has a dressage whip in one hand that is mostly getting in the way. I purposely selected this bit because you see near the end that he intrudes into her space in a rather cheeky way and she holds her hand up and lets him bump into her fingertips. His response to that is very dramatic, but then you see him come right back to their connection.

Monday, July 12, 2010

the sunflower thieves

The drama unfolded on Friday evening. We decided to open up both gates to the back yard and let the horses wander in and graze down the grass while we made dinner and waited for writing group weekend to begin.

I watched as a little red sorrel donkey realized the gate was open and made a beeline for the backyard. Cody came in next, gleaming chestnut in the setting sunlight. Keil Bay followed, his red bay coat looking even more red against the green grass. Salina and Rafer Johnson brought their black and gray colors to the scene.

The painted pony stood by the gate which Salina was guarding, not realizing the other one was open and he could have gone around to get in. He stood and stood, watching her intently for the one moment when she might let her guard down. I should mention that Salina had her blind side to the gate where the pony was standing. She had no way to "see" him, but she knew he was there, and each time he even leaned forward to take a step, she flagged her head at him.

Eventually she let her guard down for a split second and he darted through, smart enough to get 15 feet or so out of her way before dropping his head to graze.

This is our normal evening routine: horses grazing, donkeys grazing, various cats lying about. It was peaceful and they were all enjoying the grass.

I kept glancing out at them, not because they needed watching so much, but because every single one was literally gleaming in the sunshine, their colors rich and deep, and I was admiring the palette they made all together.

Then suddenly I saw a small donkey dashing across the yard with something hanging from his mouth. A huge green something. Upon closer inspection it was a sunflower!

We removed it from him and laughed. A little bit later, I looked out and saw a big black mare standing headfirst in the pinwheel of garden beds. The sunflowers are in the center of the pinwheel, planted in a mound. Suddenly Salina's big black head made a sharp motion and one of the gigantic plate-sized sunflowers came off its stalk. She had the whole thing dangling from her muzzle.

It was getting dusky so we decided it was time for the horses to go back to the barnyard until their dinner tubs. I realized when I looked at the stolen sunflowers that they are going to seed, and the big ones especially have the black shiny seeds that are exactly what we used to feed the horses as a supplement. They loved them then and I guess they love them now, because once Salina nabbed one of the big ones, Keil Bay suddenly got interested in those tall yellow things too.

If I had a big video camera and some equipment, we could have had a Fellini movie on our hands.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Edward Gal: "I just want to have the control over the horse."




This is from Edward Gal's master class at Festival of the Horse. I think what Gal says: "I just want to have the control over the horse," a direct quote, pretty much says it all about this style of training.

There are more videos on You Tube of the rest of the class, which I think give a good view into this kind of riding and training.

The horse is referred to by the announcer at the beginning of the class as "it" - and is ridden that way by Gal. The absence of personality and spirit in this horse is what makes me most sad, and why I can't support competitive dressage that rewards this kind of ride.

Friday, July 09, 2010

writing group weekend, the new blog photo, noveling, and Backseat Saints

Somehow, writing group weekend has rolled around again, and while I'm excited for all the usual reasons, I'm extra so this time because I have been on a nice roll editing this week and will move into the weekend with some momentum, which is nice.

Otherwise, horses are good, donkeys are good, cats are good, Corgi is good. We are all good, although we are also all sweating. Last night I woke up to a thunderbolt that shook the planet, or so it seemed, and husband dashed out into the night to let horses in.

It thundered and there was much lightning and we lost power, which stressed me out off and on until I decided to trust that it would be back on in the morning and it was. But the internet was out until this afternoon.

All that lightning reminded me that I'd promised to share why I chose the background photo for the blog. A few years ago, a writer friend, Joshilyn Jackson, wrote something to me about hoisting my metal umbrella and marching around on a golf course waiting for lightning to strike. This was about selling my first novel, which had gotten an agent in no time flat and when that agent didn't quite work out, it got another one in even less time flat. And there was nothing I could do at that point but wait, while the new agent shopped the book and I wrote the next one.

Hence the talk about metal umbrellas and golf courses and lightning striking.

Although I keep writing bits and pieces about November Hill Press and Kindle and the first novel, claire-obscure, being close to available, this is not yet an announcement to that effect. But it IS getting closer, and I AM working on it, and so when I saw this background photo on Blogger I felt I needed to put it right up, as an emblem of lightning striking and this book gaining some reader momentum when it gets out there in the world.

As it turns out, I did not have to march around on golf courses but I have been marching about the fields of November Hill, and have been quite happy doing so.

And, as an added bonus, I won Joss's newest novel, Backseat Saints, which she signed for me and sent, and it is right here by my keyboard where I am hoarding it a little longer, as I have heard from reliable sources that once I start I will not be able to stop reading until the very end.

Thanks, Joss - for the very sweet inscription, your books, and all those good words over the years on the working novelists' email list. It was fun and it kept me writing. And may lightning still strike!

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

synergy

Yesterday I put three things on my docket for the day. Three things *I* wanted to do, not three things that need to be done. (although I feel that all three of these do in fact need to be done - for my own sanity and peace of mind, body, and spirit).

What I always forget is the power of synergy that happens. I did my Pilates yesterday morning. I worked up a sweat and it felt good to be working my core muscles. But even more, after putting my mat away I had extra energy and when I came back in from barn chores, instead of feeling I needed a break, I couldn't wait to get to the next good thing: my hour of writing.

I did a few household chores, ate lunch, and then indulged in an hour of editing, which is what my writing time is devoted to right now.

By the time I finished the hour I was so energized I jumped right into my household chores again, and got a HUGE amount done in a very short, cheerful time.

After dinner, I waited for the magic moment when the biting flies leave and the heat starts to fade. Keil Bay was not very amused with my bridling him just before his dinner tub, but he put up with the bareback ride (short, and just some big walking, halting, backing) until I asked him to stand by the barrel so I could dismount. (not my usual way of dismounting but I decided to do it that way last night)

The Big Bay was grumpy. It was dark, there were still a few insects about, and it was dinner time. And now I was asking him to do something we have never done before, and although it wasn't a hard thing, and he was perfectly capable of doing it, he bobbed his head. I wanted him to do what I was asking, He didn't want to. We had a little conversation, during which I decided I could push things and possibly have to deal with riding it out bareback, or I could get off and do some work in hand to see if there was something wrong - sometimes when he bobs his head when I mount it means he needs the chiropractor.

I got off normally and asked Keil to walk with me around the arena. Nothing amiss, and in fact, he went into his best behavior mode. He was my shadow as I walked, turned, backed, halted, etc. He licked and chewed. He was connected.

So I'm not sure if he was just grumpy due to the timing of my ride, or if indeed he does need the chiro. I'll try again with the saddle this time so I can check it out. Interesting thing, though - after his dinner tub, instead of power-walking out to the back field, he stood at the gate to the grass paddock and waited for me to come say goodnight. That's the Keil Bay that loves his work. I suspect I just surprised him with the night-time routine.

And the synergy of doing three things that make me happy? When I woke up this morning my son asked me to come look at something. I'd moved a dresser into the dining room in hopes that he might use it to store all his craft materials, and after I went to bed last night, he did it. Each drawer is full but organized. A treat to see all those materials sorted and arranged and ready for use - but out of the way of our dining table!

So the synergy of doing a few things you love goes even further.  And now, it's time to go do my Pilates.