I am SO EXTREMELY proud of Keil Bay. His trimmer and I decided that it would be useful to do a deeper treatment of Keil's hooves, especially the fronts, to address the on again/off again thrush issues he has.
We decided to go ahead and use CleanTrax. After reviewing many home remedies, a number of commercial remedies, and seeing the results from the things I've tried (generally good results but we tend to hit a wall at some point no matter what I do), I felt it would be worthwhile to go for the fairly major treatment protocol and see if we can resolve this issue.
CleanTrax is used in human medical treatments for several issues, including finger and toenail infections, flushing the bladder, severe bedsores, etc. It is non-necrotizing to tissue, which was important to me - many of the otc remedies for thrush are extremely damaging to healthy hoof tissue.
We tried to make the experience as pleasant as possible, setting the Big Bay up in his clean stall with fresh water, a huge manger of hay, and a bag of baby carrots that I planned to use as needed to keep things fun for him. We stayed with him, which helped keep him from moving around much. He spent a fair portion of the time chewing hay with his eyes half-closed as I stroked his neck and shoulder.
If you GO HERE you can see the soaking protocol we used. I wasn't sure how Keil would take to the very tall blue soaking boots I'd ordered. I considered doing a run with plain water, but then decided that it might be better to just do the treatment, expect the best, and at least if there were issues, we'd have treated the hooves while managing whatever might happen.
I'm happy to report that there was absolutely no problem at all. Keil had his hooves picked first, then I assembled our supplies while husband walked and trotted Keil Bay in the arena - the footing tends to polish off the hooves and really cleans them out.
Then I scrubbed the hooves with plain water, dried with a towel, and we put Keil into his stall.
My husband mixed the solution and put it into the soaking boots, and I stood with Keil (with halter and lead rope) with some carrots. He enjoys when I tuck the baby carrots into the hay and let him root around for them - he also enjoys me finding them when they fall to the bottom of the manger. But in no time at all, Keil had two tall blue boots on, with some wild aqua vet wrap helping keep them secure.
We listened to NPR, praised the Big Bay, and stayed right there with him for the first 45 minute portion of the soaking. When 45 minutes had passed, we had to remove the soaking boots, put plastic bags on the front hooves, then shift the soaking boots to the back feet. I'm fortunate that I have a husband who is willing to jump right in and do this kind of thing without blinking an eye. He remains calm, is good at manipulating vet wrap and following my constant instructions, and as it turned out, Keil was perfectly happy to have me at this head feeding carrots, praising, and cheering husband on through the process.
By the very end, when we had plastic bags on his back hooves and were merely counting down until we could take them off, Keil was ready to be done with it all, but even when he was finished and we opened his stall door to the paddock, he didn't rush out. I think he actually enjoyed the attention. Not to mention the bag of carrots!
One of my favorite sites for natural hoof care is Linda Cowles' Healthy Hoof.
She gives so many great tips, and has many good articles on barefoot hoof care.
billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Sunday, November 14, 2010
zooming in for the moment on seat and the 6 points of contact
As often happens, as I was thinking and writing and focusing on the phrase "on the bit" the past two days, an email from a list I'm on popped through and mirrored some of what I was trying to express.
I'm paraphrasing, but this is the gist:
In conversation with one of the Spanish Riding School instructors, the instructor offered that the rider should never ever close the seat - but in fact should do the opposite, especially in transitions.
He noted that the SRS asks that their riders be capable of allowing the horses to come "through" utilizing 6 points of contact - calves, seatbones, and hands.
The scales of training cannot be attempted unless the rider is absolutely relaxed with a wide seat at all times - which is why it takes so long to develop into a classical rider and why time on the lunge is so precious.
If a rider tightens the seat at any time, the horse will tighten his back in response, which will create discomfort and put the horse onto the forehand and/or increase the front leg action.
He notes that with horses even a tiny bit of tension is felt as a lot of tension.
*******
The above is why I think the phrase "on the bit" can be so dangerous in its broad, misunderstood usage.
Six points of contact must be independent but at the same time utilized in harmony in order to create a horse who is "through" and on the aids.
But nothing can proceed classically without the complete relaxation of the rider, most importantly with the rider's seat. After all, this is where the weight of the rider literally bears down on the horse, onto a particularly vulnerable part of his body.
For riders not capable of relaxing their bodies completely (how many of us can even come close on a daily basis?) the horse is continually protecting his back against our tension by creating his own tension, which then brings everything we're trying to accomplish to a halt.
The focus of getting a horse "on the bit" - as it is most often used - misplaces our attention totally.
Even "on the aids" is confusing, as so many riders don't even consider the seat an aid. Think of instructions you hear from the vast majority of riding instructors: glue yourself to the saddle, plug into the saddle, etc. I see riders pumping the canter, grinding the sitting trot and the canter, posting like jack-in-the-boxes, many times while legs are pinging with every stride, and forearms are stiff. In worst case scenarios, the reins and contact to the horse's mouth has become the balance bar the rider must hang onto to accomplish all of the above contortions.
We should all be hearing instructions that focus on the relaxation of our bodies - I was fortunate that when I came back to riding I did it with a classically trained friend whose instructions to me as I went around on the lunge line week after week were: breathe, breathe out, look over your outside shoulder, let your legs drape quietly, breathe, breathe, breathe, close your eyes, feel your seat bones, etc.
The answer to every single problem I encountered in the saddle was to breathe.
She didn't allow me off the lunge line until I could use my seat (and breath) to initiate a walk, trot, change of tempo, and halt with my seat alone. And if she saw me "scooching" at all while doing it, it didn't count!
She is the trainer who taught me to "think" half halt - as opposed to doing anything with those six points of contact. "Think" the transition. There is always the opportunity to consciously add aids, but if you "think" them first, you at least allow for the subtle energy aids that our horses understand and respond to so easily - if we only let them.
Really, if we were smart, we'd teach every new rider to "get on the relaxation" with nothing else said until they do that as a matter of course. Children are good at it - and if we make the connection for them early, by showing them that the horse or pony responds when they breathe out, when they drop their legs, when they close their eyes and feel their seat bones move, they can carry that with them as the mantra for creating beauty and harmony in their riding, and in their relationships, with horses.
So, I fell up onto a soapbox here, but when it comes to being "on the bit" or being "on the relaxation," I think this is actually not a soapbox, but higher ground.
I'm paraphrasing, but this is the gist:
In conversation with one of the Spanish Riding School instructors, the instructor offered that the rider should never ever close the seat - but in fact should do the opposite, especially in transitions.
He noted that the SRS asks that their riders be capable of allowing the horses to come "through" utilizing 6 points of contact - calves, seatbones, and hands.
The scales of training cannot be attempted unless the rider is absolutely relaxed with a wide seat at all times - which is why it takes so long to develop into a classical rider and why time on the lunge is so precious.
If a rider tightens the seat at any time, the horse will tighten his back in response, which will create discomfort and put the horse onto the forehand and/or increase the front leg action.
He notes that with horses even a tiny bit of tension is felt as a lot of tension.
*******
The above is why I think the phrase "on the bit" can be so dangerous in its broad, misunderstood usage.
Six points of contact must be independent but at the same time utilized in harmony in order to create a horse who is "through" and on the aids.
But nothing can proceed classically without the complete relaxation of the rider, most importantly with the rider's seat. After all, this is where the weight of the rider literally bears down on the horse, onto a particularly vulnerable part of his body.
For riders not capable of relaxing their bodies completely (how many of us can even come close on a daily basis?) the horse is continually protecting his back against our tension by creating his own tension, which then brings everything we're trying to accomplish to a halt.
The focus of getting a horse "on the bit" - as it is most often used - misplaces our attention totally.
Even "on the aids" is confusing, as so many riders don't even consider the seat an aid. Think of instructions you hear from the vast majority of riding instructors: glue yourself to the saddle, plug into the saddle, etc. I see riders pumping the canter, grinding the sitting trot and the canter, posting like jack-in-the-boxes, many times while legs are pinging with every stride, and forearms are stiff. In worst case scenarios, the reins and contact to the horse's mouth has become the balance bar the rider must hang onto to accomplish all of the above contortions.
We should all be hearing instructions that focus on the relaxation of our bodies - I was fortunate that when I came back to riding I did it with a classically trained friend whose instructions to me as I went around on the lunge line week after week were: breathe, breathe out, look over your outside shoulder, let your legs drape quietly, breathe, breathe, breathe, close your eyes, feel your seat bones, etc.
The answer to every single problem I encountered in the saddle was to breathe.
She didn't allow me off the lunge line until I could use my seat (and breath) to initiate a walk, trot, change of tempo, and halt with my seat alone. And if she saw me "scooching" at all while doing it, it didn't count!
She is the trainer who taught me to "think" half halt - as opposed to doing anything with those six points of contact. "Think" the transition. There is always the opportunity to consciously add aids, but if you "think" them first, you at least allow for the subtle energy aids that our horses understand and respond to so easily - if we only let them.
Really, if we were smart, we'd teach every new rider to "get on the relaxation" with nothing else said until they do that as a matter of course. Children are good at it - and if we make the connection for them early, by showing them that the horse or pony responds when they breathe out, when they drop their legs, when they close their eyes and feel their seat bones move, they can carry that with them as the mantra for creating beauty and harmony in their riding, and in their relationships, with horses.
So, I fell up onto a soapbox here, but when it comes to being "on the bit" or being "on the relaxation," I think this is actually not a soapbox, but higher ground.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
my take on being "on the bit"
I personally wish the entire term "on the bit" would disappear from the riding world and magically be replaced with "on the aids" which would hopefully lead to a larger focus on riding a horse lightly and softly as the result of an entire gestalt happening between legs, seat, and hands.
I was recently reading a debate about whether or not a horse without a bit (halter and clip-on reins, bitless bridle, nothing) can ever do dressage b/c there is no way for the horse to be "on the bit" if indeed there isn't one.
As we know, a horse with a good rider can create beautiful, classical, and imo "correct" movement with no bit! Because it isn't just the bit that allows this to happen.
I've eradicated the notion of "on the bit" from my brain as much as possible when I ride b/c I really want to focus on the bigger circle of movement - that I'm finding more and more comes from my own balanced seat, comfort in accepting the forward motion that happens with impulsion and schwung, which THEN circles back up and doesn't get blocked or stopped by a stiff rigid (hard) rein contact.
In other words, the bit thing sort of takes care of itself if I do my job as rider. This sorts itself into different ways of going with our different horses:
Salina basically knows the drill to a T. She moves from behind, lifts her back, and responds instantly to leg/seat aids. She creates her own contact which if you allow with a soft hand, puts everything in exactly the right place. I was referring to that the other day calling it a "lightness in the bridle" that I always felt with her when I rode her.
Keil Bay is not as easy - with Keil I have to get him into his high gear - the instant he goes into high gear and I am able to ride that gear comfortably and well, the rein contact takes care of itself. The problem is when you stay in slug gear he is not "on the aids" and goes on the forehand - and leans on the bit. It feels heavy although from the outside it looks mostly correct.
Cody is still learning, but he was trained to respond to the seat, and if you focus entirely on balance in your own body, he takes a lovely light contact and is like riding a much more advanced horse. But his balance relies completely on the balance of the rider.
The pony defies all logic - he goes okay with a bit but when he truly gets "on the aids" is when daughter rides him bareback. I suspect he feels her leg/seat aids more clearly that way and his contact completely softens and shifts.
Given that I tend to go off on my own paths with this kind of thing, melding together things I've read and things I've experienced, and things I simply *think* make sense, I consulted my copy of Dressage in Harmony to remind myself what Walter Zettl says:
"A rider must RIDE the horse on the bit, not PUT the horse on the bit... When the hind leg is working properly the horse comes on the bit automatically, but when the rider tries to put the horse on the bit with the hands, the hind leg will never swing through, and will push instead of carry."
He goes on to look at stiffness in the poll as a common problem:
"The problem of 'putting the horse on the bit' should really be thought of as getting the horse to yield in the poll. The first and foremost step is to be sure that the horse is good and relaxed.... After relaxation, the second ingredient is a quiet hand. The hand must remain still so that the horse can have the trust to go to the contact. It is generally easier to overcome the resistance in the poll when the horse is moving forward than at the halt... Think always that when the horse is doing something wrong with his head that something is wrong in the back."
And my theory is that much of the time, what is wrong in the horse's back has to do with the rider. Stiffness creates tension, which blocks the circle of energy that happens when rider and horse move into harmony of motion.
Which I know perfectly well was true of me when I came back to riding in 2002! So my journey into this has focused on getting my own body out of the way of the horse, and without ever really trying to get "on the bit" that's where I find myself when I take care of the other stuff.
I was recently reading a debate about whether or not a horse without a bit (halter and clip-on reins, bitless bridle, nothing) can ever do dressage b/c there is no way for the horse to be "on the bit" if indeed there isn't one.
As we know, a horse with a good rider can create beautiful, classical, and imo "correct" movement with no bit! Because it isn't just the bit that allows this to happen.
I've eradicated the notion of "on the bit" from my brain as much as possible when I ride b/c I really want to focus on the bigger circle of movement - that I'm finding more and more comes from my own balanced seat, comfort in accepting the forward motion that happens with impulsion and schwung, which THEN circles back up and doesn't get blocked or stopped by a stiff rigid (hard) rein contact.
In other words, the bit thing sort of takes care of itself if I do my job as rider. This sorts itself into different ways of going with our different horses:
Salina basically knows the drill to a T. She moves from behind, lifts her back, and responds instantly to leg/seat aids. She creates her own contact which if you allow with a soft hand, puts everything in exactly the right place. I was referring to that the other day calling it a "lightness in the bridle" that I always felt with her when I rode her.
Keil Bay is not as easy - with Keil I have to get him into his high gear - the instant he goes into high gear and I am able to ride that gear comfortably and well, the rein contact takes care of itself. The problem is when you stay in slug gear he is not "on the aids" and goes on the forehand - and leans on the bit. It feels heavy although from the outside it looks mostly correct.
Cody is still learning, but he was trained to respond to the seat, and if you focus entirely on balance in your own body, he takes a lovely light contact and is like riding a much more advanced horse. But his balance relies completely on the balance of the rider.
The pony defies all logic - he goes okay with a bit but when he truly gets "on the aids" is when daughter rides him bareback. I suspect he feels her leg/seat aids more clearly that way and his contact completely softens and shifts.
Given that I tend to go off on my own paths with this kind of thing, melding together things I've read and things I've experienced, and things I simply *think* make sense, I consulted my copy of Dressage in Harmony to remind myself what Walter Zettl says:
"A rider must RIDE the horse on the bit, not PUT the horse on the bit... When the hind leg is working properly the horse comes on the bit automatically, but when the rider tries to put the horse on the bit with the hands, the hind leg will never swing through, and will push instead of carry."
He goes on to look at stiffness in the poll as a common problem:
"The problem of 'putting the horse on the bit' should really be thought of as getting the horse to yield in the poll. The first and foremost step is to be sure that the horse is good and relaxed.... After relaxation, the second ingredient is a quiet hand. The hand must remain still so that the horse can have the trust to go to the contact. It is generally easier to overcome the resistance in the poll when the horse is moving forward than at the halt... Think always that when the horse is doing something wrong with his head that something is wrong in the back."
And my theory is that much of the time, what is wrong in the horse's back has to do with the rider. Stiffness creates tension, which blocks the circle of energy that happens when rider and horse move into harmony of motion.
Which I know perfectly well was true of me when I came back to riding in 2002! So my journey into this has focused on getting my own body out of the way of the horse, and without ever really trying to get "on the bit" that's where I find myself when I take care of the other stuff.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
today's ride
I started early so as not to end up riding into the night - Keil Bay was so impatient for me to let him into the barn aisle to tack up he kicked Cody's back door and broke one of the white cross-pieces off. I'm starting to wonder if my telling the Big Bay that I will be leaving for a writing retreat for 6 days was a gigantic mistake. All of a sudden it's crazy around here!
I was soaking Keil's hooves in warm water with oil of oregano (my fancy word is "oil of oregano infusion hoof bath") while I groomed him. Rafer Johnson was with us and decided to roll in the barn aisle. He ended up underneath Keil Bay's belly, one tiny donkey hoof in the infusion with Keil's hoof, and bless the Big Bay, he did not move a centimeter.
They are all full of beans right now - I watched Rafer roll and thought "oh no" - but it was fine.
Used the mounting block again today and popped right on. Suddenly it doesn't seem like all that big a deal! A good thing.
Today's challenge was the afternoon sun illuminating the now empty hay tent (see previous post for details on why it's empty) in a way that did indeed seem a bit scary. Keil was absolutely ears pricked blowing through nostrils each time we came around that end of the arena. I realized that with the sun blazing, we were both half blinded and what we could see looked very much like a huge, glowing silver ghost. I decided maybe this monster was real for Keil and tried to find some ways to approach without pushing him too hard.
Initially I simply made preemptive choices to change direction, circle to the inside, or otherwise avoid that specific corner. We did a lot of walking and then more big walking. After he was warmed up, we did serpentines along the entire arena, ending up so that the last one came up to the tent. Because he was so focused on the pattern, he didn't really have time to get scared, so that succeeded in getting us close without much reaction.
We then did some trot work on a big figure 8 using the entire arena. This too brought us close to the tent, but again, the repetition of the pattern lulled Keil into a working mode that allowed us to go right by the tent with no reaction.
We did some work on turns on the forehand/haunches that were pretty much perfect. Reinback and square halting were not as good as yesterday but I didn't belabor them.
We spent a little time playing dodge the donkey - Rafer was meandering around the arena, periodically crossing our path. This actually plugged in a little fun - when we encountered him I'd make a quick decision about where to go to avoid him and Keil had to act fast.
At the end of the ride, I dismounted and took Keil Bay over to the hay tent. He was truly alarmed by it. He walked nicely with me but was blowing as we got close. I went ahead to show him it was okay, and we stood together and gazed at it for a minute. We stood until he stopped blowing and then circled past it again, and then headed out. I walked him around to the other side to make sure he saw it from both angles with the sun shining in.
And I made him a little meal of warm timothy cubes and a few oats sprinkled on top, which he ate while I untacked and groomed. Of course as soon as I was done he marched right out to the scary hay tent and befriended it again.
I was soaking Keil's hooves in warm water with oil of oregano (my fancy word is "oil of oregano infusion hoof bath") while I groomed him. Rafer Johnson was with us and decided to roll in the barn aisle. He ended up underneath Keil Bay's belly, one tiny donkey hoof in the infusion with Keil's hoof, and bless the Big Bay, he did not move a centimeter.
They are all full of beans right now - I watched Rafer roll and thought "oh no" - but it was fine.
Used the mounting block again today and popped right on. Suddenly it doesn't seem like all that big a deal! A good thing.
Today's challenge was the afternoon sun illuminating the now empty hay tent (see previous post for details on why it's empty) in a way that did indeed seem a bit scary. Keil was absolutely ears pricked blowing through nostrils each time we came around that end of the arena. I realized that with the sun blazing, we were both half blinded and what we could see looked very much like a huge, glowing silver ghost. I decided maybe this monster was real for Keil and tried to find some ways to approach without pushing him too hard.
Initially I simply made preemptive choices to change direction, circle to the inside, or otherwise avoid that specific corner. We did a lot of walking and then more big walking. After he was warmed up, we did serpentines along the entire arena, ending up so that the last one came up to the tent. Because he was so focused on the pattern, he didn't really have time to get scared, so that succeeded in getting us close without much reaction.
We then did some trot work on a big figure 8 using the entire arena. This too brought us close to the tent, but again, the repetition of the pattern lulled Keil into a working mode that allowed us to go right by the tent with no reaction.
We did some work on turns on the forehand/haunches that were pretty much perfect. Reinback and square halting were not as good as yesterday but I didn't belabor them.
We spent a little time playing dodge the donkey - Rafer was meandering around the arena, periodically crossing our path. This actually plugged in a little fun - when we encountered him I'd make a quick decision about where to go to avoid him and Keil had to act fast.
At the end of the ride, I dismounted and took Keil Bay over to the hay tent. He was truly alarmed by it. He walked nicely with me but was blowing as we got close. I went ahead to show him it was okay, and we stood together and gazed at it for a minute. We stood until he stopped blowing and then circled past it again, and then headed out. I walked him around to the other side to make sure he saw it from both angles with the sun shining in.
And I made him a little meal of warm timothy cubes and a few oats sprinkled on top, which he ate while I untacked and groomed. Of course as soon as I was done he marched right out to the scary hay tent and befriended it again.
a ride at dusk and the herd goes wild
Addendum: When I went out this morning I found a 12 foot, 1.5 inch thick, solid oak board kicked cleanly in half and lying in two pieces in Cody's stall. :0 I suspect Keil Bay did the kicking, but not sure. No injuries on any geldings, thank goodness. I'm thinking instead of buying a new mower we should probably buy hitches, harnesses, and farm implements and put this crew to work!
Yesterday I had a chiro adjustment and massage scheduled for the middle of the afternoon, so decided I would ride immediately upon arriving home around 5 p.m.
A quick note about regular massage and chiro work: last week I had a massage. I'm currently getting chiro with massage after every other week. On the off weeks I'm getting massage only. Last week was the first week that I was able to get a "wellness" massage, meaning there was no specific issue to work on. I was so excited - feeling great and happy that my body was in such a relaxed, balanced place.
The massage was wonderful, as usual. I floated out of the office and came home, and was so relaxed and happy I decided to fold the mountain of laundry and just enjoy the weightless feeling of my body. I was in the living room in front of our smaller sofa, happily folding, unaware that a certain Corgi pup had placed himself right behind my feet. I took a step back, sensed him there, lost my balance, and literally fell flat on my back on the hardwood floor. All I remember thinking was "damn, the good feelings from the massage are getting ready to end."
The funny thing was, after I hit the floor and got over the shock, I realized that I couldn't really tell what part of my body had hit. I could tell I'd fallen, but nothing was especially painful. I decided to use an ice pack from the neck down and just try to alleviate bruising or swelling. I never had bruising or swelling. Or any serious impact at all. I think I was so relaxed when I fell that no part of my body tensed. I didn't twist in any way trying to stop the fall, or break the fall. I just fell like a tree.
So, back to yesterday. The chiropractor adjusted several places and the massage focused on my back. I walked out feeling fabulous again, and came home ready to ride. As I walked through the house I decided not to change into riding breeches to save some time. I called out to my daughter to come out and help me with mounting, put on my riding boots, and went to the barn. Keil Bay was waiting at the gate. He came in and I did a quick grooming, tacked up, put on the bitless bridle, and went into the arena. As he did the day before, he lined himself up by the barrel. But when I got up on the barrel he turned his head back to me, and Cody came up on the other side of the arena fence. Suddenly I was standing on a barrel with two big horse heads sniffing my legs.
Daughter hadn't come out. I got down and tried to get Keil lined up again while I also tried to shoo Cody away. Meanwhile, the sun had set and it was getting shadowy. The arena light came on. In a moment of total frustration, I grabbed the mountain block, shoved it with my foot into place by Keil Bay, and climbed on, the regular old way.
Keil looked back at me, like "now wasn't that easier than the barrel?"
And it was.
I think the bodywork was a huge factor in my hopping right on instead of fidgeting.
Our ride was a lot different than the day before. Keil is not fond of riding in the arena at night, although he generally doesn't do anything crazy. He's just super alert and ready to go at the slightest hint. We warmed up in the entire arena, with me focusing on keeping one of his ears on me as we went into the two darkest corners. I could hear deer crashing around every few minutes, and Keil was acutely aware of every sound, but he did a great job.
Given the increasing darkness, the very active deer, and the fact that I haven't been in regular work with him lately, I decided to work in the middle 20 meter circle in the arena. At first Keil wanted to cut the circle on the back field side, but we eventually got a correct circle and decent bend. We did a lot of walking and changing direction inside the circle, and then took a break around the entire arena, plus a circuit through the very dark barnyard and back. I'd left the gate open so we could easily do that.
We ended with some trotting in the circle, both directions, and then walk/trot/walk around the entire arena. While I'd rather have ridden in daylight, it was a nice exercise in connection - no need for tuning up response to aids! The deer in the woods took care of that.
About the time I dismounted my daughter came out. She smiled when I told her I'd hopped on from the mountain block.
*******
This morning my husband came in from the barn exclaiming. The herd had broken the paddock gate and spent at least some portion of the night in the barnyard. One of them went in the hay tent and brought the entire round bale core out into the middle of the barnyard and UNROLLED it so they all had plenty of space to stand and eat.
I've seen Keil pick up an 80-lb. square bale with his teeth and toss it like a jolly ball, so it wouldn't surprise me if he's the culprit. I have no idea who rolled it out - but I guess I should be thankful one of them did, since that allowed the entire herd to have equal access!
There is never a dull moment around here.
Yesterday I had a chiro adjustment and massage scheduled for the middle of the afternoon, so decided I would ride immediately upon arriving home around 5 p.m.
A quick note about regular massage and chiro work: last week I had a massage. I'm currently getting chiro with massage after every other week. On the off weeks I'm getting massage only. Last week was the first week that I was able to get a "wellness" massage, meaning there was no specific issue to work on. I was so excited - feeling great and happy that my body was in such a relaxed, balanced place.
The massage was wonderful, as usual. I floated out of the office and came home, and was so relaxed and happy I decided to fold the mountain of laundry and just enjoy the weightless feeling of my body. I was in the living room in front of our smaller sofa, happily folding, unaware that a certain Corgi pup had placed himself right behind my feet. I took a step back, sensed him there, lost my balance, and literally fell flat on my back on the hardwood floor. All I remember thinking was "damn, the good feelings from the massage are getting ready to end."
The funny thing was, after I hit the floor and got over the shock, I realized that I couldn't really tell what part of my body had hit. I could tell I'd fallen, but nothing was especially painful. I decided to use an ice pack from the neck down and just try to alleviate bruising or swelling. I never had bruising or swelling. Or any serious impact at all. I think I was so relaxed when I fell that no part of my body tensed. I didn't twist in any way trying to stop the fall, or break the fall. I just fell like a tree.
So, back to yesterday. The chiropractor adjusted several places and the massage focused on my back. I walked out feeling fabulous again, and came home ready to ride. As I walked through the house I decided not to change into riding breeches to save some time. I called out to my daughter to come out and help me with mounting, put on my riding boots, and went to the barn. Keil Bay was waiting at the gate. He came in and I did a quick grooming, tacked up, put on the bitless bridle, and went into the arena. As he did the day before, he lined himself up by the barrel. But when I got up on the barrel he turned his head back to me, and Cody came up on the other side of the arena fence. Suddenly I was standing on a barrel with two big horse heads sniffing my legs.
Daughter hadn't come out. I got down and tried to get Keil lined up again while I also tried to shoo Cody away. Meanwhile, the sun had set and it was getting shadowy. The arena light came on. In a moment of total frustration, I grabbed the mountain block, shoved it with my foot into place by Keil Bay, and climbed on, the regular old way.
Keil looked back at me, like "now wasn't that easier than the barrel?"
And it was.
I think the bodywork was a huge factor in my hopping right on instead of fidgeting.
Our ride was a lot different than the day before. Keil is not fond of riding in the arena at night, although he generally doesn't do anything crazy. He's just super alert and ready to go at the slightest hint. We warmed up in the entire arena, with me focusing on keeping one of his ears on me as we went into the two darkest corners. I could hear deer crashing around every few minutes, and Keil was acutely aware of every sound, but he did a great job.
Given the increasing darkness, the very active deer, and the fact that I haven't been in regular work with him lately, I decided to work in the middle 20 meter circle in the arena. At first Keil wanted to cut the circle on the back field side, but we eventually got a correct circle and decent bend. We did a lot of walking and changing direction inside the circle, and then took a break around the entire arena, plus a circuit through the very dark barnyard and back. I'd left the gate open so we could easily do that.
We ended with some trotting in the circle, both directions, and then walk/trot/walk around the entire arena. While I'd rather have ridden in daylight, it was a nice exercise in connection - no need for tuning up response to aids! The deer in the woods took care of that.
About the time I dismounted my daughter came out. She smiled when I told her I'd hopped on from the mountain block.
*******
This morning my husband came in from the barn exclaiming. The herd had broken the paddock gate and spent at least some portion of the night in the barnyard. One of them went in the hay tent and brought the entire round bale core out into the middle of the barnyard and UNROLLED it so they all had plenty of space to stand and eat.
I've seen Keil pick up an 80-lb. square bale with his teeth and toss it like a jolly ball, so it wouldn't surprise me if he's the culprit. I have no idea who rolled it out - but I guess I should be thankful one of them did, since that allowed the entire herd to have equal access!
There is never a dull moment around here.
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