We're a couple of weeks into clicker training with our painted pony, Apache Moon, aka the Little Man.
He
has been a very quick study with this so instead of working through the
various lessons I have found myself having to back off some in order to
prevent us going literally straight through the book. I'm tending to do
brief lessons once or twice a day, skipping days in between so the pony
doesn't get too obsessed with the clicker. I'm also wanting to keep him
intrigued. He's so immediately responsive it would be easy to just keep
going to see how much he *could* do in a day.
He's
targeting and backing and lowering his head and I've been shaping his
tendency to test boundaries by clicking when he walks along with ears
forward and presents himself as a cheerful companion. There's another
path to getting that behavior, and it involves being very solidly "in
one's footprints" - using the clicker is I think more fun for him and
offers him a way to get to yes without so much angst involved.
I've
been speculating lately as to why he has the need to test boundaries so
regularly with his herd and with his human herd. It's often a tiny test
initially, but if not met with a clear message he will escalate and can
quickly become very annoying. If you're ever passing by November Hill
and hear a resounding hyena squeal/bellow, that would be Keil Bay
telling the pony to CUT IT OUT.
Apache grew up in a
herd of painted ponies very similar to himself. His sire was a 10h
Shetland who carried the painted gene. He had three girls who played,
rode, and hung out with him and was considered by all to be a very good
pony. His dam was a 14h grade pony who looked to me like she had some
Hackney blood. She was a very reserved mare who was sweet when you
gained her trust. (we actually leased her for my son to ride for about 8
months so got to know her well)
I have wondered this
week if living in a herd of opinionated, flashy ponies might necessitate
learning how to test the herd waters each and every day in order to
maintain one's status in that herd. Apache clearly recognizes other
painted horses and responds to them differently than he does normally
colored equines. I saw him once in a huge pasture spot a painted horse
being ridden by - far enough away that I could barely see the painted
pattern of the horse - and Apache went into full alert and then trotted
briskly to the edge of the pasture to see the horse. The rest of the
herd continued to graze.
When we take the pony off the
farm he always notices other paints, and he is quite often the cause of
big eyes and sometimes spooking on the part of big horses who have never
seen such a small painted creature.
Once when we had a
clinic here on November Hill, one of the participants pulled up and
unloaded her 17h painted warmblood. If ever a pony's eyes nearly bugged
out of his head, it was on that day. (Keil Bay's eyes bugged too - his
worst nightmare - a gigantic, bigger than him, Apache Moon!)
The
main thing I'm noticing about the clicker training, other than his
quick mind, is that the pony's overall demeanor is shifting. His usual
MO is friendliness and then an immediate testing. Sometimes this is a
bossy glance or a tilt of his ears back. He likes to intimidate. I have a
method of working through that - usually I step toward him and ask with
my hand for him to lower his head. He usually licks and chews to let me
know he's submitting and he visibly relaxes. But he'll often test
again. And again.
Since the clicker training, he is
much more curious and friendly and he is not getting to that testing
piece of behavior. He seems to be saying, "Hi! Are we going to play that
clicker game now? No? Okay!"
I'm not sure why the
absence of the clicker game doesn't elicit a negative response or a
testing - maybe he doesn't want to thwart the possibility of the game
happening in the near future. Or maybe even thinking about the clicker
game puts him into the same mind set as when he's actually playing it.
But there is a definite shift in the conversations that happen with him
when I don't have the clicker in my pocket and just give him a pat and a
cheerful word.
On Tuesday we tried using the clicker
to reward acceptance of something he usually hates - being groomed on
the inside of his hind legs up near his groin. Within one click he was
allowing it on both sides with ears forward and not one sign of
displeasure. Pretty amazing.
And I have to add another
thing I'm thinking about. I admit that I really don't want a push-button
pony. I want him to be happy, to enjoy his interactions with other
equines and with people. I don't want a trick pony who has been
conditioned to do a series of cute behaviors, or whose cheerfulness
seems manipulated by the clicker constantly. So I'm trying to use this
tool judiciously, trying to use it to enhance rather than to make all
the conversations about click and pellet.
I love what I see so far but I don't want to overdo it.
I'd
love to know what anyone else who has used this method thinks about the
potential for overuse. Has the core relationship suffered? Does it feel
like the clicker intrudes on the relationship at all?
I
haven't used it at all with Keil Bay or Salina because I love my
interactions with them and I intentionally do NOT want to change them by
inserting a device that makes a sound. Am I being silly?
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Friday, March 09, 2012
new adventures in living with ponies
Apache Moon, our 13h painted pony, has been living the life of Riley for the past year or so. His girl's legs are really long on him now, and although she still rides him bareback or with his bareback pad, and he carries her well, what they can do together is fairly limited. They can't jump with her long legs. They can't do dressage shows any more because the size saddle she needs is too long for his short pony back. Not to mention the flaps!
For most of the past year he's had several young beginner riders coming once or twice a week to learn with him. He astounded me with his stellar behavior with the younger set, and his riders have had a great time on him. However, what I've discovered is that not all young beginner riders are horse crazy like my children were (and like I was), and the scheduling and managing of rainy riding days ended up being a nightmare.
When I was young I would have gone to the barn no matter what and been as happy as could be. If riding was not an option, I groomed horses in stalls, cleaned tack, learned parts of bridles and saddles and horses, and just soaked in the smell of the barn itself. I was happy just being in the same place as the horses.
My children were the same when they were in pony school. They always volunteered to stay late and help with untacking and turn-out. Anything they got to do was something to get excited about and to discuss on the way home.
This hasn't been the case with the children we've worked with. They enjoy the riding part but are much less interested in barn lessons. Since we don't have an indoor arena, there are going to be barn lessons. I actually tried just cancelling rainy day lessons and doing make-ups, but what happened then was the pony stopped feeling connected to the little riders. When we missed weeks we had to go way back to early lessons to catch things up again.
The other piece to this is that I had hoped having the little riders would help keep the pony fairly fit. But even with two lessons in a row he never really gets the exercise he needs to balance out his calorie intake. My daughter still has to hop on him and give him some trotting and cantering.
So I decided to go back to my original plan, which was this: lessons happen no matter what. We either ride or we do barn lessons. I'm pretty creative and can find ways to make things fun. But if being around horses isn't exciting, then we're not the right place for that particular child.
The pony's limited lesson schedule is still full. He actually has a waiting list. And I've shifted my expectations of the lessons. Instead of thinking he'll keep fit, I'm viewing them as preparation for grandchildren to come.
Meanwhile, he needed something else to do. This week I started clicker training with him. Which is mostly geared toward shaping some very specific behaviors and also toward something even more exciting. Ground driving.
I bought a pair of ground driving reins and as soon as I work through the clicker training we're going to move on to ground driving. At some point I'll add in blinders, and we'll work our way step by step toward driving a cart. If it takes years, that's fine. Apache Moon will be 12 in April and I have a lot of years to keep him busy.
I knew he would take to the clicker training. I did the initial introduction of the clicker on Tuesday, and yesterday I went into the arena with a small cone, a pocket full of alfalfa pellets, and the clicker. I opened the back arena gate and invited him to come in. He marched in with ears pricked and neck arched. He was ready.
I think it took him about 5 seconds to touch the cone and get a click and a pellet. He did a marathon of cone touches - probably 15 in almost as many seconds. Then he decided to use his hoof to target the cone and see if that worked. No. Back to nose. Click. Pellet.
I moved the cone all over the arena. He came to the cone and touched.
Well, that was easy! I said to him.
In the book the horses and ponies all went through a phase of going for the pocket full of treats. I had to laugh at the Little Man. He went for the clicker! The image of him walking all over November Hill clicking for pellets made me laugh out loud. He wants the control. He wants to clicker train ME.
Cody was at the arena gate begging to come join in the fun. Both donkeys wanted to play too. I did a brief session with Redford and Rafer after finishing with the pony. They learned instantly as well.
I'm eager to see how things go with this new fun. I suspect the pony will be asking for more every time I go out to the barn. The real question here is this: can *I* keep up with *him*?
For most of the past year he's had several young beginner riders coming once or twice a week to learn with him. He astounded me with his stellar behavior with the younger set, and his riders have had a great time on him. However, what I've discovered is that not all young beginner riders are horse crazy like my children were (and like I was), and the scheduling and managing of rainy riding days ended up being a nightmare.
When I was young I would have gone to the barn no matter what and been as happy as could be. If riding was not an option, I groomed horses in stalls, cleaned tack, learned parts of bridles and saddles and horses, and just soaked in the smell of the barn itself. I was happy just being in the same place as the horses.
My children were the same when they were in pony school. They always volunteered to stay late and help with untacking and turn-out. Anything they got to do was something to get excited about and to discuss on the way home.
This hasn't been the case with the children we've worked with. They enjoy the riding part but are much less interested in barn lessons. Since we don't have an indoor arena, there are going to be barn lessons. I actually tried just cancelling rainy day lessons and doing make-ups, but what happened then was the pony stopped feeling connected to the little riders. When we missed weeks we had to go way back to early lessons to catch things up again.
The other piece to this is that I had hoped having the little riders would help keep the pony fairly fit. But even with two lessons in a row he never really gets the exercise he needs to balance out his calorie intake. My daughter still has to hop on him and give him some trotting and cantering.
So I decided to go back to my original plan, which was this: lessons happen no matter what. We either ride or we do barn lessons. I'm pretty creative and can find ways to make things fun. But if being around horses isn't exciting, then we're not the right place for that particular child.
The pony's limited lesson schedule is still full. He actually has a waiting list. And I've shifted my expectations of the lessons. Instead of thinking he'll keep fit, I'm viewing them as preparation for grandchildren to come.
Meanwhile, he needed something else to do. This week I started clicker training with him. Which is mostly geared toward shaping some very specific behaviors and also toward something even more exciting. Ground driving.
I bought a pair of ground driving reins and as soon as I work through the clicker training we're going to move on to ground driving. At some point I'll add in blinders, and we'll work our way step by step toward driving a cart. If it takes years, that's fine. Apache Moon will be 12 in April and I have a lot of years to keep him busy.
I knew he would take to the clicker training. I did the initial introduction of the clicker on Tuesday, and yesterday I went into the arena with a small cone, a pocket full of alfalfa pellets, and the clicker. I opened the back arena gate and invited him to come in. He marched in with ears pricked and neck arched. He was ready.
I think it took him about 5 seconds to touch the cone and get a click and a pellet. He did a marathon of cone touches - probably 15 in almost as many seconds. Then he decided to use his hoof to target the cone and see if that worked. No. Back to nose. Click. Pellet.
I moved the cone all over the arena. He came to the cone and touched.
Well, that was easy! I said to him.
In the book the horses and ponies all went through a phase of going for the pocket full of treats. I had to laugh at the Little Man. He went for the clicker! The image of him walking all over November Hill clicking for pellets made me laugh out loud. He wants the control. He wants to clicker train ME.
Cody was at the arena gate begging to come join in the fun. Both donkeys wanted to play too. I did a brief session with Redford and Rafer after finishing with the pony. They learned instantly as well.
I'm eager to see how things go with this new fun. I suspect the pony will be asking for more every time I go out to the barn. The real question here is this: can *I* keep up with *him*?
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
spring! and some catching up
It's been a busy few weeks here - so busy that I had to take some stuff OFF my calender in order to remain sane.
We've had on again, off again spring, but I'm claiming we're fully there mostly due to my mood, which has taken a huge leap forward (hence the busy-ness) into a new season - in spite of the thermometer. Last week we had an 80 degree day and a brave carpenter bee, and last night it was 20-something and we had the wood stove cranking out heat. In between we are clearing beds and trying to get ready to start seeds.
Things are blooming: daffodils, maple trees, and some of the other early-blooming trees. The redbuds haven't bloomed yet, nor the dogwoods, but there is green showing its face all over the place. And the equines have stopped chewing tree bark, which means they have other things they're chewing on - new grass.
Salina started shedding several weeks ago and as of today all the geldings have started. The donkeys shed late, so they are still fluff-budgets.
This past Saturday the hunt club had its Hunter Trial to wind down foxhunting season. My daughter rode her lesson horse and won her class - and brought home a huge trophy, a blue ribbon, and a gift bag that had a gorgeous set of wooden hunt club coasters. It was a rainy, dark day, but the trial went on, and we managed to stay mostly dry and keep horses mostly dry as they waited for their turns to show off. There were some absolutely gorgeous foxhunters there, and it was a fun day all around. I admit - I was glad to get home at the end of it!
Yesterday we had hoof trims and everyone is looking much much better with the new trimmer. Salina actually lifted her front hooves to be picked and examined the "regular" way. Unfortunately, Rafer had to have some more hoof wall removed as the white line disease is still present - though not to the degree it was initially. We've had a lot of rain and mud, and it's being difficult to keep those little hooves perfectly clean. But he's not having discomfort now and we're working on growing new, tight, healthy hoof.
Today the pony had his little rider here and after the ride I got in my own ride on the Big Bay. I don't really need to say anything except how happy and grateful and lucky I am to have this handsome gelding in my life. Last week at my daughter's lesson there was a 73-year old man learning to play polocrosse. When he got off at the end and stood there letting his muscles situate, I had the thought that I hope, desperately, that when I turn 73 I am climbing into the saddle and treasuring the horse that carries me. I suppose it's possible that it could be on Keil Bay, but if not, it's definitely possible it could be on Cody.
But for now, for today, I'm a happy horsewoman with a handsome, sound, brilliant bay and at least a few sunny days in a row to ride him!
We've had on again, off again spring, but I'm claiming we're fully there mostly due to my mood, which has taken a huge leap forward (hence the busy-ness) into a new season - in spite of the thermometer. Last week we had an 80 degree day and a brave carpenter bee, and last night it was 20-something and we had the wood stove cranking out heat. In between we are clearing beds and trying to get ready to start seeds.
Things are blooming: daffodils, maple trees, and some of the other early-blooming trees. The redbuds haven't bloomed yet, nor the dogwoods, but there is green showing its face all over the place. And the equines have stopped chewing tree bark, which means they have other things they're chewing on - new grass.
Salina started shedding several weeks ago and as of today all the geldings have started. The donkeys shed late, so they are still fluff-budgets.
This past Saturday the hunt club had its Hunter Trial to wind down foxhunting season. My daughter rode her lesson horse and won her class - and brought home a huge trophy, a blue ribbon, and a gift bag that had a gorgeous set of wooden hunt club coasters. It was a rainy, dark day, but the trial went on, and we managed to stay mostly dry and keep horses mostly dry as they waited for their turns to show off. There were some absolutely gorgeous foxhunters there, and it was a fun day all around. I admit - I was glad to get home at the end of it!
Yesterday we had hoof trims and everyone is looking much much better with the new trimmer. Salina actually lifted her front hooves to be picked and examined the "regular" way. Unfortunately, Rafer had to have some more hoof wall removed as the white line disease is still present - though not to the degree it was initially. We've had a lot of rain and mud, and it's being difficult to keep those little hooves perfectly clean. But he's not having discomfort now and we're working on growing new, tight, healthy hoof.
Today the pony had his little rider here and after the ride I got in my own ride on the Big Bay. I don't really need to say anything except how happy and grateful and lucky I am to have this handsome gelding in my life. Last week at my daughter's lesson there was a 73-year old man learning to play polocrosse. When he got off at the end and stood there letting his muscles situate, I had the thought that I hope, desperately, that when I turn 73 I am climbing into the saddle and treasuring the horse that carries me. I suppose it's possible that it could be on Keil Bay, but if not, it's definitely possible it could be on Cody.
But for now, for today, I'm a happy horsewoman with a handsome, sound, brilliant bay and at least a few sunny days in a row to ride him!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
more time in the herd mind
This morning I was busy scrubbing out a big water trough. The wind was gusting around me as I stood armed with the hose nozzle in one hand and a big scrub brush and a sharp knife in the other.
The horses were finishing their breakfast tubs in the barn, and as they finished, my daughter let them out their back doors so they could head out to the pasture and their hay.
As you might imagine I was suddenly the center of attention. Keil Bay came up, then the pony, and then Cody. I was literally surrounded by 3000+ lbs. of horse.
Keil Bay was standing with one hoof on either side of the hose I was holding. I was trying to keep the sharp knife out of the way of curious noses. I was hoping they would decide that nothing interesting was happening in the empty trough and move on out to the field.
Suddenly Keats our black cat jumped into a pile of leaves a few feet from the water trough. She came out of nowhere but made a loud noise doing it. Horses, pony, and human did one huge spook in place simultaneously. I mean, literally, all 14 feet went airborne and then landed with one loud smack on the ground.
"What?! Oh, it's Keats!" I exclaimed. And we all relaxed.
One by one the horses walked on to the field, leaving me to finish my chore and to marvel at what had just happened.
That they all spooked in place was pretty remarkable. Not one of them wheeled or bolted or even moved any part of their bodies except straight up in the air and down again. Had they moved even an inch, I would likely have been knocked down, cut with the knife I was holding, and maybe gotten kicked by a fleeing hoof.
That I spooked with them, without even thinking, was even more remarkable to me. I've written before about incidents when I have been in the midst of the herd and moved with them without thinking. I've never had it happen in such incredibly close quarters. I was brushing horse shoulders on each side and three heads were leaning in around me. I didn't even get a bump from any of them.
When these kinds of things happen, it's impossible not to think about the power of connection we can have with our horses. And if their presence is capable of pulling us into the herd mind, what does our presence do to them?
And what is possible if we give them our full attention and our focus, along with permission to them to be exactly what they are - exquisitely gifted with the ability to read and respond to the tiniest sound, gesture, or cue, even those that are silent to us?
When I think about this, I become even more convinced that a huge percentage of what gets done to horses is too loud, superfluous if not downright traumatic.
I want to say to everyone: take off all the excess gear. Loosen the too tight straps. Stop asking the horse to DO something. Stop talking. Just stand still, shoulder to shoulder, and see what happens.
My guess is you'll be pleasantly surprised.
The horses were finishing their breakfast tubs in the barn, and as they finished, my daughter let them out their back doors so they could head out to the pasture and their hay.
As you might imagine I was suddenly the center of attention. Keil Bay came up, then the pony, and then Cody. I was literally surrounded by 3000+ lbs. of horse.
Keil Bay was standing with one hoof on either side of the hose I was holding. I was trying to keep the sharp knife out of the way of curious noses. I was hoping they would decide that nothing interesting was happening in the empty trough and move on out to the field.
Suddenly Keats our black cat jumped into a pile of leaves a few feet from the water trough. She came out of nowhere but made a loud noise doing it. Horses, pony, and human did one huge spook in place simultaneously. I mean, literally, all 14 feet went airborne and then landed with one loud smack on the ground.
"What?! Oh, it's Keats!" I exclaimed. And we all relaxed.
One by one the horses walked on to the field, leaving me to finish my chore and to marvel at what had just happened.
That they all spooked in place was pretty remarkable. Not one of them wheeled or bolted or even moved any part of their bodies except straight up in the air and down again. Had they moved even an inch, I would likely have been knocked down, cut with the knife I was holding, and maybe gotten kicked by a fleeing hoof.
That I spooked with them, without even thinking, was even more remarkable to me. I've written before about incidents when I have been in the midst of the herd and moved with them without thinking. I've never had it happen in such incredibly close quarters. I was brushing horse shoulders on each side and three heads were leaning in around me. I didn't even get a bump from any of them.
When these kinds of things happen, it's impossible not to think about the power of connection we can have with our horses. And if their presence is capable of pulling us into the herd mind, what does our presence do to them?
And what is possible if we give them our full attention and our focus, along with permission to them to be exactly what they are - exquisitely gifted with the ability to read and respond to the tiniest sound, gesture, or cue, even those that are silent to us?
When I think about this, I become even more convinced that a huge percentage of what gets done to horses is too loud, superfluous if not downright traumatic.
I want to say to everyone: take off all the excess gear. Loosen the too tight straps. Stop asking the horse to DO something. Stop talking. Just stand still, shoulder to shoulder, and see what happens.
My guess is you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
a good but thoughtful ride
After a bit of a spell of not riding, Keil Bay and I got back to the arena today. After so many wonderful rides in December and January, I was eager to get on, and really looking forward to riding in the sunshine this afternoon.
I got on a kick recently about stirrup leathers, namely wanting to eradicate the bulk of a regular stirrup leather (doubled) plus the buckle under the flap. I've ridden with these leathers ever since Keil Bay came to live with me and never really had an issue, but for some reason I suddenly decided to try the Bates Leather Webbers to see if losing the bulk made any difference.
A few differences right off the bat:
I ordered the longer leathers and even on the highest hole they are pretty long for me - not too long, but there is no room to shorten.
Keil Bay has also put on a little weight, and it seemed like the saddle was sitting up just a tad higher on his back than usual.
He's never been girthy but today he actually licked and chewed as I buckled his girth - which went a hole less than usual, also indicating some weight gain.
He walked out of the barn with a rhythmic stride, ears forward, clearly ready to go to work. We had no trouble at the mounting block. All to say that he seemed actually more eager than usual for a ride.
We did a long bit of walking while I adjusted to the new feel of the saddle. My upper thighs were definitely flatter and my legs longer with these new leathers. I expected things to feel different but I expected it to be a very clearly positive change. Instead, it felt - not bad at all, but just... different.
One thing I noticed immediately was that my leg aids were sharper and clearer, which makes sense. The legs were able to drape a bit more naturally without that bulk up top - but my seat felt different. I'm not sure I can describe how it felt - again, not bad in any way, but not like the last rides I've had.
But... no twinges! Either I'm more stretched out now than I was in December/January or this new lack of bulk changed my hip angles in a good way. It might also be that what felt good/new about my seat in December and January now feels... normal.
Hands and reins were very much as they were the last wonderful rides. I feel like whatever notched into place with the contact is still happening.
Another interesting thing is that when we trotted, the contact was terrific, Keil was terrific, but something felt off in my posting - I could feel the pommel more than usual. Again - not a bad feeling, but just something I don't remember noticing before.
And then, two times coming around to the right in the exact same place (by the main arena gate), Keil did a little balk. He wanted to either stop or go across the diagonal but when I asked him to go straight down that long side he stopped and ... thought about backing up but neither time did he actually go backwards.
Each time he did this I circled him to the right in a small circle and then aimed straight down the arena at the trot. Trot was great, I could feel the pommel, but things were otherwise fine. There was no issue once we got on that straight line.
It was so unusual though for Keil to balk, I stopped after the second circle/trot correction and got off. Nothing seemed off about the saddle or bridle, hooves were clean, and he did his usual post-ride snort and happy face. He walked normally to the barn. Everything seemed normal.
This week looks like a good one to get a nice string of riding days in, so I can see how things go tomorrow.
I got on a kick recently about stirrup leathers, namely wanting to eradicate the bulk of a regular stirrup leather (doubled) plus the buckle under the flap. I've ridden with these leathers ever since Keil Bay came to live with me and never really had an issue, but for some reason I suddenly decided to try the Bates Leather Webbers to see if losing the bulk made any difference.
A few differences right off the bat:
I ordered the longer leathers and even on the highest hole they are pretty long for me - not too long, but there is no room to shorten.
Keil Bay has also put on a little weight, and it seemed like the saddle was sitting up just a tad higher on his back than usual.
He's never been girthy but today he actually licked and chewed as I buckled his girth - which went a hole less than usual, also indicating some weight gain.
He walked out of the barn with a rhythmic stride, ears forward, clearly ready to go to work. We had no trouble at the mounting block. All to say that he seemed actually more eager than usual for a ride.
We did a long bit of walking while I adjusted to the new feel of the saddle. My upper thighs were definitely flatter and my legs longer with these new leathers. I expected things to feel different but I expected it to be a very clearly positive change. Instead, it felt - not bad at all, but just... different.
One thing I noticed immediately was that my leg aids were sharper and clearer, which makes sense. The legs were able to drape a bit more naturally without that bulk up top - but my seat felt different. I'm not sure I can describe how it felt - again, not bad in any way, but not like the last rides I've had.
But... no twinges! Either I'm more stretched out now than I was in December/January or this new lack of bulk changed my hip angles in a good way. It might also be that what felt good/new about my seat in December and January now feels... normal.
Hands and reins were very much as they were the last wonderful rides. I feel like whatever notched into place with the contact is still happening.
Another interesting thing is that when we trotted, the contact was terrific, Keil was terrific, but something felt off in my posting - I could feel the pommel more than usual. Again - not a bad feeling, but just something I don't remember noticing before.
And then, two times coming around to the right in the exact same place (by the main arena gate), Keil did a little balk. He wanted to either stop or go across the diagonal but when I asked him to go straight down that long side he stopped and ... thought about backing up but neither time did he actually go backwards.
Each time he did this I circled him to the right in a small circle and then aimed straight down the arena at the trot. Trot was great, I could feel the pommel, but things were otherwise fine. There was no issue once we got on that straight line.
It was so unusual though for Keil to balk, I stopped after the second circle/trot correction and got off. Nothing seemed off about the saddle or bridle, hooves were clean, and he did his usual post-ride snort and happy face. He walked normally to the barn. Everything seemed normal.
This week looks like a good one to get a nice string of riding days in, so I can see how things go tomorrow.
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