homecoming

When I got to the barn for breakfast tubs Monday morning, after being away for 5 days, I was greeted by six sets of equine ears all perked in my direction. Even the pony, who is not always willing to show his affection, was at a stall door with eyes and ears glued to me.

I spent a few moments with each one, saying hello, making sure they were all okay. They all got their hooves trimmed while I was gone (a first!) and I'd read the notes but wanted to see their feet. Everyone is improved, and Salina, on a new diet and protocol, had gotten a really good trim because she was limber enough to lift both front feet so he could get at them the usual way. (when her knees are stiff, he trims her hooves in a sawdusty area with the feet on the ground - it works surprisingly well, but he can't get a good view from below to check sole and balance)

After breakfast tubs, they were all eating hay, and I took the wheelbarrow out to the paddock to do some mucking. It was overcast and lovely, with deeply gray skies and fall color beginning to pop. There was a small breeze. Mucking the paddock is a very grounding activity for me, and I wanted to get back into the November Hill routine.

After only a moment of mucking, I was joined by the Big Bay, who left his hay behind to come walk with me as I made my way along the paddock. I stopped and took a minute to rub him down with both hands. His winter coat is in now, and he feels so soft and warm. After the rub-down, he walked to the gate to the back field and looked back, inviting me to join him there.

We walked back together. He munched on a few acorns, and I mucked a few piles. We stood looking into the forest. I'm sure he was looking at something specific, but I just let my eyes go soft and enjoyed the big view, letting this place sink in deep, trusting him to alert me if anything needed attending to.

After a few minutes, it started to rain. At first it was a light rain and it felt good, but then it got harder, and Keil Bay looked at me as if to say, "I'm glad you're home but I'm not standing in the rain with you!"

And after a moment he sauntered back to the paddock and into his stall.

I stayed out for another minute, remembering a Native American ritual I read about a few years back. You go to a mountain and offer up your dream, and then you wait. When it rains, it's a sign that the mountain has accepted your dream and is raining it back down onto you so the dream can come true.

On the back slope of November Hill, my innermost thought was that I was happy to be home with the horses, and that I hope to have many many years of being with them just the way I was right that moment with Keil Bay.

What a wonderful and immediate affirmation I received with that soft and then heavier rain. There is no greater gift than living this dream of living with horses I love.

Sometimes we need to go away to remember, and celebrate, the blessing of coming home again.

cutest dressage test ever - and they earned 70%!

on the road

I've been traveling the NC/TN mountains since mid-week with my teens and my mom, enjoying the autumn color and celebrating my mom's 77th birthday.

The colors are gorgeous, the company fine, and we've had a lot of fun along the way. I think tonight we all realized we're about ready to head for home - missing our "space," missing our families, and on some level missing the "normal" routine.

Today we did a hike to one of my favorite places and there, on top of a grassy bald, the new book suddenly began to gel. I was wondering when it was going to expand from the idea to an actual story. It's a wonderful process when it starts to unfold.

I am getting back just in time to hop back into a busy week. Not quite ready for it, but at the same time, am ready to get back to the usual routine. Wishing there were some way to create a "between time" - where vacation gently transitions back to full responsibilities.

fun with horses

And amazingly, not ours!

Yesterday afternoon my daughter started jumping lessons at a farm not too far away. With the pony and her long limbs, jumping anything over 2 feet is not really useful to her in terms of learning, and I have decided, for now anyway, that Cody (although he has a HUGE jump in him) is not a good candidate for her to continue learning jumping on, as his PSSM issues make trailering uncomfortable, and I'm just not keen on putting him in a scenario where he has to learn something new that could also be difficult physically.

But my daughter has always enjoyed jumping, and we need to follow that interest for awhile and see how it plays out.

Fortunately, because of her membership in Pony Club, we have come to know some good riders and trainers, and the family she'll be riding with are life-long horse people, kind and fun, and they do a lot of polocrosse and foxhunting. I knew before we scheduled that the training part would be fine - they ride and teach a balanced seat, a kind and quiet ride, and there's none of the "ass in the air/lay on the neck" junk that one sees in jumping competition.

I've been around their horses before, but not in a lesson scenario. We arrived a little early, and got to see the horses come in for the first lesson (of two) of the day. This involved a gate being opened and 8 or so horses sauntered happily in from their huge pasture, putting themselves into stalls where they had snacks waiting. I was immediately impressed. Happy horses bring themselves in, knowing it's lesson time! They were all friendly and alert. They were clean enough that it's obvious they get groomed and cared for regularly. This was no surprise to me, but it was nice to see.

The trainer informed us that it would be an unusually huge group because she had 5 students doing make-up lessons. Since my daughter has been riding solo for most of this year, I figured this would get her back in "group lesson" mode quickly, and it did. There was a friendly banter in the barn aisle as girls groomed and tacked up horses. Each girl individually went up to my daughter and introduced themselves, and welcomed her to the group. She knew two from Pony Club, but it was a nice start to have everyone be so friendly.

The trainer spent some time at the beginning thinking through who would ride each horse. She took into account what horse each girl favored, who had ridden who before, who wanted to learn something new, and she talked to my daughter about what her riding has been like at home, and what might be a new and fun challenge for her.

Daughter ended up on a 16.2 Percheron/Thoroughbred cross, an old hand at eventing and foxhunting. He actually reminded me a bit of Keil Bay. He was huge! So my daughter, with her long legs and torso, got to shift from pony size and QH build to something truly big. This is a horse who goes into the jump field at liberty and canters around over the jumps, so he is obviously a horse who enjoys his work.

It was fun seeing her on a big guy, all set to ride out to the jumping arena.

While I've written a fair amount about finding the right trainers and my willingness to ride alone if I can't find one,  I also know that for an adolescent girl, some of the fun of riding is being with other girls (and boys when you can find them on horses!). The lively banter, the energy of girls and horses, and the fact that I was not "in charge" of coordinating any of it was very nice.

I hung out in the center of the action - at one point there was a small group of adult riders practicing polocrosse in the big field, a small lesson group of very young girls riding (in small western saddles and with halters and reins instead of bridles) in the smaller arena with cones and poles and various obstacles to work with, and the big jumping group in the jump field. Over in a smaller arena there was a girl riding without saddle or bridle on her own horse. There was a lot going on, and yet everyone, including the horses, seemed happy and in good spirits. There was lots of praise and lots of constructive direction. "Try this" instead of "don't do that."

The girls in the jump group were all advanced enough to tack up and ride out to warm up their horses, and daughter joined in without a moment's hesitation.

The only surprise was a very pleasant one: both the husband and wife trainers actually tacked up and rode in the lessons! I loved this. I've seen a few trainers who teach this way, and I really respect someone who is willing to groom, tack up, and ride with the students. In my daughter's group, the trainer was able to ride alongside each girl/horse to give instructions, and to demonstrate.

They did walk, trot, and canter in one big group because she wanted them to work on being in the midst of a lot of horses and a lot of activity - much as you are when at shows and while foxhunting. When they started jumping, she divided the girls into two groups - one group jumped while the other went to a more distant part of the field and worked on other things she gave them to do.

One horse was off under saddle, so mid-lesson, that girl took the horse back to the barn and got a different horse to ride. This all happened with no disruption to the lesson. I was thrilled to see that such a subtle "offness" was both noted (and in such a big group) and dealt with instantly. 

It was coordinated, very organized, and she packed in a lot of "work" into the lesson. I was totally sold. At the end they went off on a trail ride to cool down.

The very nice part of this for us is that the trainer is part of Pony Club so there is the opportunity for my daughter to lease one of the horses for PC activities if she wants to, and to go foxhunting and try that out on an experienced horse, with experienced riders. For now, this gives us a golden opportunity to explore this path without having to trailer Cody and without having to invest in a horse that *could* trailer easily.

And given the kinds of riding and training I've been posting about here lately, it was a relief to see quiet, kind riding on horses that were not perfect, but were happy and responsive, and had come from being in a huge pasture all day long and would go back there when their work was done.

Bonus: they have a bathroom at the barn! :) It's been awhile since I've had that luxury.

dreaming about the Big Bay (and Totilas)

I had one of my crazy dreams last night. I was taking Keil Bay to an underground spring that bubbled up with therapeutic properties both from the water, the action of the spring, and the mud it produced. In the dream, this was a favorite thing for him, and very convenient since in this dream we lived in an urban neighborhood and the underground spring was in the corner of a dirt parking lot behind a restaurant.

I put Keil's saddle and bridle on so we could ride down the neighborhood street. It was a nice neighborhood, but busy. There were cars, sidewalks, trees, honking, pedestrians, and generally a lot more activity than I would ever be comfortable riding in unless on a police horse. But in the dream it was perfectly normal and just another trip to the mud bath.

We arrived, and Keil Bay pawed at the mud, which triggered the spring to flow. He got his front feet down into the red clay mud pit and the water began to rush gently over his feet and lower legs. I had dismounted and stood off to the side. People from the restaurant were coming out onto the patio to watch. Of course, all of them remarked on how handsome Keil Bay was. He did his characteristic turn of the head to gaze into my eyes, nuzzled my arm, and then turned back to his mud. This got a chorus of "how sweet" from all the bystanders.

Up to this point, the dream was pretty much what it would be like if indeed we lived in that setting and were used to navigating through parked cars, people, and the noise of a city block.

Then it was time to leave. There were a lot of people in the parking lot when it was time to go, and several cars trying to pull in and park, so there wasn't much room to move. I realized it might be easier to long line Keil Bay out of there. (this is where dreamland takes over)

Miraculously the reins lengthened to driving reins, and I had a driving whip. Miraculously both Keil Bay and I were quite expert at this and the long lines tucked themselves in on either side of the saddle so they weren't dangling too low. In no time at all I had backed him up, turned him on the forehand, and we were walking briskly back toward home.

As we headed across the busy street, next to a row of tall but tiny-trunked trees, Keil Bay began to trot. I gave a cue and he began to piaffe. Suddenly I could see every limb moving in front of me. His legs were moving perfectly, and I was able to see and assess every joint. Wow, I thought, this is great!

We alternated trotting and piaffing depending on the traffic and my ability to keep up. And then, the dream went totally wonky.

Keil Bay began to do the Totilas version of extended trot. "Stop that!" I called out to him. I was embarrassed, for one thing, but it also seemed clear to me from behind that this wild front leg action was not practical out in the real world of the neighborhood sidewalk. And indeed, one of Keil's front legs went wildly forward and got caught on a tree trunk. We had to stop, back up, untangle that leg, and then start again.

I decided maybe we should cross back to the right side of the street, where there were no trees just waiting to tangle us up. But there was a front yard fenced in tall chain link fencing, and when Keil resumed that front leg action a hoof jammed in the fencing and we had to stop and untangle. It was an animal rescue, and there were cats and dogs and one big bear who came snuffling over to the fence to see what was what. I was worried Keil Bay had never seen a bear before and might spook with his hoof stuck and either injure his hoof or take the whole fence down, but remarkably, he and the bear sniffed noses and I got the hoof free.

"No more of that Totilas stuff," I warned, and off we went again, trotting along in Keil's beautiful floating trot.

Just when I was relaxing into this, a huge Cadillac backed out of a driveway ahead of us, and Keil Bay went back into Totilas mode, striking out with his hooves in front of him like he was trying to hit the car with them. The driver of the Cadillac, a heavy-set man with a heavy accent, put down his window and called out, "What's wrong with that horse? He looks lame!" and as he gawked at Keil's front leg action, he lost track of what he was doing and veered toward us in the big black car. We had to quickly go into lateral movement to get out of the way, and it was extremely tricky given Keil's front legs were at this point going in what seemed like every different direction.

I went up to Keil's head and said, "Really, now, that is enough of that. No more Totilas!"

And then I woke up.