Yesterday I went out earlier in the evening to see if I could continue the ease back into work with Keil Bay. He was in the arena grazing (yes, that is unfortunately true! GRASS in the arena enough to graze!) with Cody and Rafer Johnson.
The pony had let himself into the barnyard with Salina and Redford, who were all peacefully co-existing with some hay.
Keil lifted his head as soon as I walked in the arena. I had a halter and lead rope, so he knew something was up. I think he thought we might be heading to the barn to tack up, but I surprised him and took him for a walk all through the front of our property. It's been so hot, and the horses have been slow-moving and slightly sluggish, so when Keil walked out very big with ears up and in his fullest Big Bay posture, it took ME by surprise.
What pleasure to take a walk with a big, alert, handsome Hanoverian! Everything is immensely green, the light from the sun low in the sky is so soft and lovely, and there we were in the midst of it. As we headed up the hill and back toward the barn, we jumped together over the creek bed, and through the loose lead line I could feel the power in Keil's big body, coiled and in his complete control, waiting to see if I would keep the forward momentum and build it into a trot, or continue the walking we'd been doing.
It was like having a big, horse-shaped balloon full of energy on the line, but more even, because of the connection between two living beings.
As went up the hill, Keil's energy increased and I responded silently, with a sense of pleasure in his movement and power, and the energy seemed to circle. He went into a piaffe.
I've not done advanced work in hand, nor have I done long-lining, which I so want to learn. I think a lot of people feel that kind of work is mostly done to get the horse ready for riding, but when I experience the power that I felt yesterday with the Big Bay, I realize the absolute wonder of that kind of work.
That a horse weighing 1300+ pounds chooses to stay with me, connected in spirit and by the lead line, and circles his energy into such a lovely, still movement, is pure magic.
We moved on in our walk and ended up back in the arena, where we did some more walking, really big strides and Keil keeping his head at my shoulder.
My plan was to end with a good groom, but I realized that all the sweat and hosings and rollings had left his coat in need of a real bath, so we spent a good half an hour under the big oak tree. I used the soft scrubber he loves, and about halfway through, he shifted from enjoying the bath but wanting to get to hay, to wanting to just be there with me. I rinsed him on one setting but he loves the mist setting so much we created a rhythm - rinse rinse rinse, clickclickclick to mist for his face and muzzle, clickclickclick back to circle setting to rinse.
Keil Bay is the kind of horse who thrives on the routine of being worked and cared for - he shows his gratitude by engaging at a very deep and connected level once you connect with him that way. It is a mystery that I suppose I will never solve - is he simply oriented this way personality-wise, or did someone nurture this tendency carefully to grow and develop it?
The answer is probably some of both.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
back to some work
After our huge rains on Tuesday, and yesterday's drying out and return to "normal" summer weather, the slightly cooler evening seemed like a great time to get back into some work with the horses. I noticed the forecast is predicting lows in the upper 60s again, instead of the mid-70s, and there's something about that shift that makes me realize there will of course be an end to the heat.
Given we have been, including the equines, simply existing the past few weeks, I decided to just do some walking on the ground with Keil Bay in the arena. But first, we took Salina and the donkeys in and while Salina had a walk with my husband to stretch her legs and get her joints warmed up, I pulled grass (the arena is undergoing a transformation - going green! - kept company by Rafer Johnson and Redford. I think they thought I was doing my own version of grazing but Rafer looked at me like I had truly gone crazy when I tossed my harvest over the arena fence into the woods.
We finished up picking feet and applying some ointment to frogs.
The geldings had gone out to the front field earlier, but came marching up to see what we were doing. My daughter grabbed a handful of alfalfa pellets, divided them between herself, my husband, and me, and we proceeded to invite the geldings in for a walk. Keil Bay had to be rewarded for the first three big steps out of his stall and into the arena. It was approaching dinner tub time, and this is not the normal routine, so he was not amused at my timing. But he couldn't ignore the possibility of a few pellets. He first turned himself nearly in half but once he took the first real step it was pretty quick moving from stall to arena.
My daughter was walking with her pony, and my husband with Cody. It was dark and the arena light is in the phase it gets to before it needs to be replaced - still bright enough to see by, but definitely dimmer than usual. It's actually pretty nice having it dimmer - it has a pinkish cast that makes the arena seem slightly surreal.
All I wanted to do with Keil Bay was get back into the arena, do some big walk strides together, and get him to connect with me as a partner. The first few minutes he was walking for the pellets, not able to contain himself from going to my hand, and paying more attention to my hand than to me. We worked through this. After just a bit of time he stopped caring so much about the pellets and we were just walking, turning, stopping, and then I asked him to move his haunches away from me a few times in both directions.
Once we were working together easily and smoothly, we stopped and he got the rest of the pellets all at once. Daughter did some nice work with her pony - she ended up hopping on him and worked on walking and halting, which was something considering there were two other people in the arena with hands full of pellets!
Cody was his usual quiet, respectful self, although he did try to leave husband at one point to come join Keil Bay and me - sometimes I work with both of them together that way and he enjoys being part of a two-horse team, I think.
So - we're over the little slump now and if the weather will cooperate, I'm going to do a little more each day (or night) and aim for actual tack in a week or so.
Given we have been, including the equines, simply existing the past few weeks, I decided to just do some walking on the ground with Keil Bay in the arena. But first, we took Salina and the donkeys in and while Salina had a walk with my husband to stretch her legs and get her joints warmed up, I pulled grass (the arena is undergoing a transformation - going green! - kept company by Rafer Johnson and Redford. I think they thought I was doing my own version of grazing but Rafer looked at me like I had truly gone crazy when I tossed my harvest over the arena fence into the woods.
We finished up picking feet and applying some ointment to frogs.
The geldings had gone out to the front field earlier, but came marching up to see what we were doing. My daughter grabbed a handful of alfalfa pellets, divided them between herself, my husband, and me, and we proceeded to invite the geldings in for a walk. Keil Bay had to be rewarded for the first three big steps out of his stall and into the arena. It was approaching dinner tub time, and this is not the normal routine, so he was not amused at my timing. But he couldn't ignore the possibility of a few pellets. He first turned himself nearly in half but once he took the first real step it was pretty quick moving from stall to arena.
My daughter was walking with her pony, and my husband with Cody. It was dark and the arena light is in the phase it gets to before it needs to be replaced - still bright enough to see by, but definitely dimmer than usual. It's actually pretty nice having it dimmer - it has a pinkish cast that makes the arena seem slightly surreal.
All I wanted to do with Keil Bay was get back into the arena, do some big walk strides together, and get him to connect with me as a partner. The first few minutes he was walking for the pellets, not able to contain himself from going to my hand, and paying more attention to my hand than to me. We worked through this. After just a bit of time he stopped caring so much about the pellets and we were just walking, turning, stopping, and then I asked him to move his haunches away from me a few times in both directions.
Once we were working together easily and smoothly, we stopped and he got the rest of the pellets all at once. Daughter did some nice work with her pony - she ended up hopping on him and worked on walking and halting, which was something considering there were two other people in the arena with hands full of pellets!
Cody was his usual quiet, respectful self, although he did try to leave husband at one point to come join Keil Bay and me - sometimes I work with both of them together that way and he enjoys being part of a two-horse team, I think.
So - we're over the little slump now and if the weather will cooperate, I'm going to do a little more each day (or night) and aim for actual tack in a week or so.
Monday, July 26, 2010
an appeal for humane and connected horsemanship
Seventeen years ago I was given a book by William Sears, M.D., called The Baby Book, in which Dr. Sears talked about his theory of parenting, referred to as attachment parenting.
Dr. Sears' theory of attachment parenting (often called AP), calls for developing a secure bond with our children, the goal being a secure, connected child who grows into an empathic, connected adult.
Attachment Parenting International offers the following guiding principles, which facilitate strong, nurturing connections between children and their parents:
With only a few tweaks of language, all of the above could easily be set forth as guiding principles for living humanely and in connection with horses (and donkeys, and all equines).
Last week it was Pat Parelli and Catwalk.
This week I have read an article about a miniature donkey strapped into a harness against her will and parasailed up and down a beach in the name of "publicity." The donkey was terrified, landed quite roughly, and apparently was in such distress while in the air, left many children crying in upset confusion. And yet, after a public outcry when the owner was finally located and the donkey examined by a veterinarian, there will apparently be no charges of abuse or cruelty because the donkey sustained no physical injuries.
In the smaller circle of equine community, I have read a post on a forum about the need to keep working our horses, despite the heat, because of the need to maintain a training schedule. Heat indexes where I live have ranged from 112-119 degrees for the past week. It's easy enough to see that extreme heat affects horses more quickly and more seriously than it does the average, healthy human. They have hair covering their entire bodies. Their digestive tracts rely on regular intake of forage and water to remain functional. When we ride them, they are not only working, but carrying our weight.
I received an email informing me of things to do to haul horses safely in heat, in advance of Pony Club National Championships coming up next weekend in Virginia. Nationals are held in Kentucky and Virginia on alternate years, always in late July/early August. Why schedule something that involves hauling horses and ponies from all over the US during the hottest time of year?
I read a Facebook entry referring to a pony as a "butthead" because he didn't want to go into the ring for a show class, tried to leave, and bucked. Has the pony been checked for physical pain? Bit fit, saddle fit, muscle soreness, feet checked, chiropractic issues? The pony's behavior is indicative of something being wrong, either physically or emotionally. How else can he express it? My guess is that if he didn't want to go into the ring to jump, and that was paid attention to, he wouldn't have then needed to buck to get his point across. And yet no one listened. He was a "butthead."
Is there no end to the narcissism, self-centeredness, and downright ignorance of human beings? I can't think of any reason save an emergency trip to the vet school that would call for loading any horse or donkey into a trailer at this time of year, in this heat, with the expectation that the horse/donkey stand in a strange stall, hot, stressed, and yet ready and willing to perform strenuous work in a competitive setting.
I can't imagine having hauled any of my horses to any event this week and being remotely capable of disparaging them because they resisted being ridden.
And I could no more strap Rafer Johnson or Redford in a harness and drag them through the air for the sake of making a little money than I could one of my human children.
What in the world are we thinking when we expect animals to serve as vehicles for our bank accounts, our egos, and our apparently desperate need for external validation?
Alice Miller wrote a number of books about parents who expect these things of their children. She describes in great psychological detail what this does to children, and how the effects ripple into adulthood. It's time someone wrote a similar treatise on people and their horses. There is no ribbon on earth, no amount of money, and no genuine self-gratification worth the cost of treating animals like objects, with no feelings, no rights, and little effort on our parts toward creating, nurturing, and maintaining a deeper relationship.
When we ignore the deeper, unspoken needs of the equines we ride and use for our own purposes, there is a cost. Not dollars and cents, although certainly we may end up with broken down horses and big vet bills at some point down the road. The cost I refer to is a psychic, soul-deep cost that I'm not sure we even know the consequences of incurring. It's a cost to humanity and to growth as human beings.
I know this sounds serious. I believe it to be true.
I'm not opposed to competitive horse sport, but the reward of competition should be based in the maturing of the rider's increasingly connected relationship with the horse, and in the making of sound, safe decisions based on the needs of the horse, who can't leave a voicemail saying "oh, by the way, I really don't feel like carrying you over jumps in 90+ degree heat - how about we do it another time?"
As much as our children rely on us to intuit and meet their needs when they're too young to do it for themselves, our horses and our donkeys (and our cats and dogs and birds and all the other wonderful animals we surround ourselves with) need us to be their biggest, most thoughtful advocates and partners.
And I can say with certainty borne of experience, when we say NO to "smack him harder," when we say NO to "that noseband needs to be TIGHT," when we say IT'S TOO HOT TO HAUL, WE WON'T BE THERE when we get the email asking about the upcoming horse show, and when we say "I'll do what it takes to find out why you bucked in that last class" - what we get in return is something far more valuable than a training schedule checked off, a thumbs up from an unenlightened trainer, a few new clients for our company, or a fistful of cheap show ribbons.
We get connection. We get devotion. We get to participate in the magical relationship that is the amazing and most genuine gift horses and donkeys offer humans.
And more than that, I think we elevate ourselves as humans. We raise the bar for our own species. Instead of expecting more of them, how about we expect more of ourselves?
Dr. Sears' theory of attachment parenting (often called AP), calls for developing a secure bond with our children, the goal being a secure, connected child who grows into an empathic, connected adult.
Attachment Parenting International offers the following guiding principles, which facilitate strong, nurturing connections between children and their parents:
- preparing for pregnancy, birth, and parenting
- feeding with love and respect
- responding with sensitivity
- using nurturing touch
- ensuring safe sleep, physically and emotionally
- providing consistent and loving care
- practicing positive discipline
- striving for balance in personal and family life
With only a few tweaks of language, all of the above could easily be set forth as guiding principles for living humanely and in connection with horses (and donkeys, and all equines).
Last week it was Pat Parelli and Catwalk.
This week I have read an article about a miniature donkey strapped into a harness against her will and parasailed up and down a beach in the name of "publicity." The donkey was terrified, landed quite roughly, and apparently was in such distress while in the air, left many children crying in upset confusion. And yet, after a public outcry when the owner was finally located and the donkey examined by a veterinarian, there will apparently be no charges of abuse or cruelty because the donkey sustained no physical injuries.
In the smaller circle of equine community, I have read a post on a forum about the need to keep working our horses, despite the heat, because of the need to maintain a training schedule. Heat indexes where I live have ranged from 112-119 degrees for the past week. It's easy enough to see that extreme heat affects horses more quickly and more seriously than it does the average, healthy human. They have hair covering their entire bodies. Their digestive tracts rely on regular intake of forage and water to remain functional. When we ride them, they are not only working, but carrying our weight.
I received an email informing me of things to do to haul horses safely in heat, in advance of Pony Club National Championships coming up next weekend in Virginia. Nationals are held in Kentucky and Virginia on alternate years, always in late July/early August. Why schedule something that involves hauling horses and ponies from all over the US during the hottest time of year?
I read a Facebook entry referring to a pony as a "butthead" because he didn't want to go into the ring for a show class, tried to leave, and bucked. Has the pony been checked for physical pain? Bit fit, saddle fit, muscle soreness, feet checked, chiropractic issues? The pony's behavior is indicative of something being wrong, either physically or emotionally. How else can he express it? My guess is that if he didn't want to go into the ring to jump, and that was paid attention to, he wouldn't have then needed to buck to get his point across. And yet no one listened. He was a "butthead."
Is there no end to the narcissism, self-centeredness, and downright ignorance of human beings? I can't think of any reason save an emergency trip to the vet school that would call for loading any horse or donkey into a trailer at this time of year, in this heat, with the expectation that the horse/donkey stand in a strange stall, hot, stressed, and yet ready and willing to perform strenuous work in a competitive setting.
I can't imagine having hauled any of my horses to any event this week and being remotely capable of disparaging them because they resisted being ridden.
And I could no more strap Rafer Johnson or Redford in a harness and drag them through the air for the sake of making a little money than I could one of my human children.
What in the world are we thinking when we expect animals to serve as vehicles for our bank accounts, our egos, and our apparently desperate need for external validation?
Alice Miller wrote a number of books about parents who expect these things of their children. She describes in great psychological detail what this does to children, and how the effects ripple into adulthood. It's time someone wrote a similar treatise on people and their horses. There is no ribbon on earth, no amount of money, and no genuine self-gratification worth the cost of treating animals like objects, with no feelings, no rights, and little effort on our parts toward creating, nurturing, and maintaining a deeper relationship.
When we ignore the deeper, unspoken needs of the equines we ride and use for our own purposes, there is a cost. Not dollars and cents, although certainly we may end up with broken down horses and big vet bills at some point down the road. The cost I refer to is a psychic, soul-deep cost that I'm not sure we even know the consequences of incurring. It's a cost to humanity and to growth as human beings.
I know this sounds serious. I believe it to be true.
I'm not opposed to competitive horse sport, but the reward of competition should be based in the maturing of the rider's increasingly connected relationship with the horse, and in the making of sound, safe decisions based on the needs of the horse, who can't leave a voicemail saying "oh, by the way, I really don't feel like carrying you over jumps in 90+ degree heat - how about we do it another time?"
As much as our children rely on us to intuit and meet their needs when they're too young to do it for themselves, our horses and our donkeys (and our cats and dogs and birds and all the other wonderful animals we surround ourselves with) need us to be their biggest, most thoughtful advocates and partners.
And I can say with certainty borne of experience, when we say NO to "smack him harder," when we say NO to "that noseband needs to be TIGHT," when we say IT'S TOO HOT TO HAUL, WE WON'T BE THERE when we get the email asking about the upcoming horse show, and when we say "I'll do what it takes to find out why you bucked in that last class" - what we get in return is something far more valuable than a training schedule checked off, a thumbs up from an unenlightened trainer, a few new clients for our company, or a fistful of cheap show ribbons.
We get connection. We get devotion. We get to participate in the magical relationship that is the amazing and most genuine gift horses and donkeys offer humans.
And more than that, I think we elevate ourselves as humans. We raise the bar for our own species. Instead of expecting more of them, how about we expect more of ourselves?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Rafer and Redford join in Sheaffer's outrage
Our dear friend Sheaffer has posted this about the Russian donkey who was harnessed and parasailed up and down a beach by the Sea of Asov.
We were alerted to the story first by a camera-obscura reader, and appreciate the information and heads up.
Please join all our donkey friends and family in expressing outrage against this act of extreme cruelty to an innocent donkey.
If you live in the US, you can contact the US Ambassador to the Russian Federation, John Beyrle, at:
Moscow 121099, Russian Federation
Tel: +7 (495) 728-5000, fax: 728-5090
(Moscow is 8 hours ahead of Washington)
Consular e-mail (for questions regarding visas and other consular services): consulMo@state.gov
Let him know that you want this act investigated and punished to the full extent of the law.
We were alerted to the story first by a camera-obscura reader, and appreciate the information and heads up.
Please join all our donkey friends and family in expressing outrage against this act of extreme cruelty to an innocent donkey.
If you live in the US, you can contact the US Ambassador to the Russian Federation, John Beyrle, at:
U.S. Embassy in Moscow
Bolshoy Deviatinsky Pereulok No. 8Moscow 121099, Russian Federation
Tel: +7 (495) 728-5000, fax: 728-5090
(Moscow is 8 hours ahead of Washington)
Consular e-mail (for questions regarding visas and other consular services): consulMo@state.gov
Let him know that you want this act investigated and punished to the full extent of the law.
Friday, July 23, 2010
dreaming about the keebler elf (my interpretation added at the end)
My hilarious husband sent me this image a bit ago following my a.m. dream report in which I told him the dream I had just before waking this morning.
In the dream someone had given me a very large herd of driving horses and equipment, and I had a brief time in which to find a place to move them. I was working with a realtor, looking for a piece of land large enough to provide plenty of pasture for this herd of big horses, and she talked me into going to see a place she thought might have "potential."
Guess where she took me? Apparently, the Keebler Elf died, and left behind his mansion, many-acre property, and elf factories. We arrived at the very stylized mansion, and she convinced me I had to see the inside to get the full sense of the potential.
The inside was everything you might imagine the Keebler Elf's home would be: curlicue molding of many colors, elf-like decorations dripping from every inch of wall and ceiling space, and all the accoutrement that an elf might end up with by the end of his long elf life.
"There is no way I can live here!" I said to the realtor, who assured me there was a HUGE market for elf decor and that I would make enough selling the stuff to collectors to pay for the entire property.
Still not convinced, she took me outside and instead of showing me the land where I might house the driving horses, she led me to a little gravel lane, which had tiny elf factories on both sides. "All the equipment is still in place!" she said. "You could sell it or put it back into operation and have a working farm that pays for everything you need!"
I woke up feeling like I had been through an ordeal, and like I had a huge decision to make - horses needed a home! There was a property that would allow it to happen! But the private estate of the Keebler Elf???? I just wasn't sure if I could do it.
And I'm still not sure. However, it has kept me chuckling to myself all day long.
(please note that I am hereby starting to label my posts, in a very belated effort at creating some order here on camera-obscura!)
And now, let me write my interpretation of this wild and crazy dream, after it's been sitting in my subconscious/conscious most of the day today:
The big driving horses being offered, if I can only find a way to house them, are not horses at all, but "big dreams" - likely writing related since I am in the process of launching a "small" press. In my mind, big driving horses are powerful and capable of huge forward motion. Galloping forward, in a big way. But that estate is too small - the mansion is packed with elf stuff, the factories are too little.
The Keebler Elf - well, who knows, really, where that crazy image came from, but my guess is that my unconscious was really trying to knock me over the head with something so outlandish I couldn't fail to pay attention.
The Keebler Elf is small, has died, and has left behind a huge "field of possibility" - but much of what exists there is useless to me - crowded and gaudy and not my "size." I could make the connection to big publishing here, but that might be pushing it. :)
I'm thinking the Keebler Elf also represents the part of me that is being cautious, keeping my dream of a "small" press "small" - and not allowing for the "potential" the realtor promises is indeed there: she says there is a huge market for the stuff in the mansion, the factories can be sold or used, in other words, make use of what you have, get it all out there so it can work for you. Go for it!
There's more to be said, but it's subtle stuff that would only make sense with a longer explanation - but I am reminded of the Keebler Elf commercials that were so prevalent on TV when I was younger. Lots of making and baking and sending those cookies out the door to be sold.
All that activity, all those cookies - from a little, tiny tree. What's small can still have a BIG impact. And, elves have magic!
Isn't it pretty fabulous what our unconscious can use to get our attention? If this dream had incorporated any other symbol I would have forgotten about it by now. But the Keebler Elf made me stop and pay attention.
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