first day of spring, a birthday, and a ride

 SEE COMMENTS FOR UPDATE ON REDFORD!

I had completely forgotten that today was the first day of spring, but one of our November Hill rites is to bring the horses, usually two by two, or sometimes in groups of 3, into the backyard so they can help us graze down the sudden burst of growth (about 18 inches worth) that happens almost overnight when spring arrives.

We did this yesterday, and this morning I realized it was officially the first day of spring - and even more importantly, Cody's 9th birthday. It's hard to believe that he is already 9 years old. Cody is big and such a gorgeous deep red. He's a good friend to every horse in his herd, and he's a joy to ride as well. Happy birthday Cody!

It's been crazy around here the past week. Salina went into season. Redford's seemingly absent male hormones suddenly woke up and it became pretty much instantly apparent that our idea to keep him intact was not a good one. (for various reasons he has not yet been gelded - the past year we were thinking intentionally of not gelding him, mostly b/c of the metabolic thing that seems to happen to geldings - the difference between he and Rafer Johnson in this regard is quite astonishing)

But this week it became clear that life will be easier if all males are geldings. Tomorrow morning that becomes official.

In the midst of much braying and herding and posturing and all the mare stuff that goes along with the spring season, our well broke yesterday. A switch went out and we had no water. Thankfully that was fixed more quickly than the above situation! But it's been a bit of a roller coaster ride here lately and I'm ready for some lazy, quiet, boring days.

On another note, Keil Bay and I are doing morning rides now, working on some exercises from Thomas Ritter's recently-published book called Dressage Principles Based On Biomechanics. I'm participating in a study group and reading through the book, discussing it, and hopefully advancing as a result in my understanding of dressage and the actual biomechanics of the dressage journey. It's a gorgeous, beautifully illustrated book - I highly recommend it.

Today Keil and I did an exercise we often do, which is one exercise that illustrates what Dr. Ritter is calling the Ping Pong Principle. It involves ping-ponging back and forth from left to right side aids. We did what he calls zig zag leg yielding - going in to the quarter line and back out again, and going out from our dressage markers to the rail and back in again. In addition to reminding both horse and rider that there are two sides, this exercise forces me to see the crookedness in my own body when giving aids. If I can do it without torquing into a pretzel, I consider it a success.

We also brought the image of the four corners of the arena as pieces of a volte into our ride. I haven't counted strides in a long while but today I did and we are riding three strides (of the inside hind leg) through each corner. I think I should say that Keil Bay is doing that with no real assistance from me. All I did was count. As seems true in most of my lessons with Keil, he knows more than I know, and he is pretty good-natured about letting me think I know more than I do.

We will take up work on the small track tomorrow to see if we can make our figures (probably just ONE figure to start with) so accurate that I could erase them with one sweep of a broom at the end.

Today, though, I decided to end with a dressage test as my brain was tired and I just wanted to do something easy. We entered at A and halted at X, not all that straight, and I said out loud to Keil Bay that we were not going to do very well if we didn't straighten up our act. As soon as we tracked right at C, he pulled himself into high gear and went onto automatic pilot. He did that test all by himself!

I had to laugh. I know there are trainers who would insist that I needed to change things up or not let him take over like that, but you know, I have no problem with the Big Bay driving when he's doing it so perfectly. In our little arena, in the November Hill Spring Equinox Classic, we brought home the blue. A nice way to end our first ride of spring.

clicker training update

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?

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*?

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!

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.