Wednesday, April 30, 2008

all hail the king!

Keil Bay, aka The King, turns 19 years old today. He is a true joy, a benevolent leader, and the best horse a 44-year old "woman returning to riding after 20+ years" could hope to find.

The story of how I found Keil Bay is its own little fairy tale. Tired of shopping for ponies, weary of failed pony pre-purchase vet exams, completely freaked at the cost of finished 12-handers, I sat up late one night and typed in the criteria for my dream horse into DreamHorse: Hanoverian, bay, gelding, dressage training, age between 10 and 18, within 100 miles.

I clicked "submit," knowing that nothing within my price range would appear.

Oddly, that late night in December, ONE horse popped up. It was Keil Bay and he met every criteria. Except that we weren't shopping for MY horse. We were seeking a pony.

Still, I called the number the next day, thinking I would leave a message. The young woman who was handling his sale answered and we ended up talking for nearly an hour. I confessed that I had been shopping as a lark, and that I was nowhere near ready for a horse like Keil Bay.

She suggested I come meet him and take a ride, "just for fun." She commiserated with the difficult pony search. We knew a few horse people mutually. He happened to be stabled on a horse farm that adjoined the private school my husband had attended growing up. I decided it wouldn't hurt anything to go try him out.

My husband dropped me off at the barn where Keil Bay was living. The young woman was handling both his riding and his sale, as his owner was older and having back issues. She didn't want to sell him, but her back couldn't handle his size and width. We went out to the field to get him, and he walked right up and stuck his nose in the halter.

He didn't seem so big walking up the hill, but in the barn, down the long barn aisle, he seemed HUGE. I groomed him and helped tack him up. I watched him go through his motions. He was gorgeous. He did everything through second level perfectly and a few third level movements. His one fault was that in some of the third level movements, he ground his teeth.

When she finished showing him off, I said I didn't think I could ride such a grand horse. She said to get on and just have fun. I got on. We walked. It was amazing. We trotted. That was amazing. We cantered. I had the best ride and looked the best I'd looked in the saddle since I'd returned to riding. I realized as we passed by the long mirrors - not only was Keil Bay gorgeous but he pulled the best ride out of me I'd had since I was a girl.

I was grinning from ear to ear when I finally got off. His trainer agreed that it had been a fabulous ride, and noted that he'd enjoyed it too. And the moment I stepped up to give him a rub, he rested his head on my shoulder. That was it. I knew that moment I had found my horse.

When my husband drove up, he saw the expression on my face and his changed to alarm. "I'm getting this horse." To his credit, he didn't try to talk me out of it. He did mention "but we're supposed to be buying a pony." I knew we were doing things out of order and I was changing everything mid-stride with our equine plans. But I also knew I would regret it forever if I didn't do what it took to bring Keil Bay into our lives.

He had his pre-purchase vet check, and I was very nervous. All those ponies had looked so good and yet had so many problems. The vet went through his list, item by item. Everything went well. He had spotted something subtle though and wanted to do x-rays of the knees. We did the films and he left, promising to call the next morning. When the trainer and I took Keil Bay back to the gelding field, I took his halter off. He turned and waited for his pat, and then galloped madly down the hill to his pals. I looked at the trainer and said "his knees seem fine to me!"

Sometime that night I decided that I didn't care what the films looked like. None of us is perfect. What if Keil Bay and his owner ordered films of MY knees? What might they find? I slept better after making my own quiet decision. The vet called the next afternoon. The films had been so clean for a horse Keil's age, he had taken them to the vet school to have someone else take a look. So Keil Bay passed with flying colors, and the decision was sealed.

I wrote the check for Keil Bay, his custom-fitted dressage saddle, and his bridle, on a cold, icy Sunday morning in December. It was too cold to ride, and we weren't moving him until January 1st. So I went and stood in his stall while he ate hay, and marveled at how amazing it felt to have come all the way around the circle back to that summer day when I was a girl and handed over the money I'd earned to buy my Quarter Horse gelding, BoJinx.

Keil Bay has taught me how to ride big gaits. He helped me overcome my "older rider" fear of flying off his back. He rests his head in my arms and sometimes he bosses me around. He loves his clean stall and his bodywork. He adores his breakfast and good hay. He loves being hosed when it's hot, and he wears his fly mask and his blanket with pride. He's been treated like a king his entire life and in exchange for that care and love, he gives back personality plus. He is without doubt the most communicative horse I have ever known. He tells me when his pelvis is rotated, he tells the chiropractor what needs adjusting. He likes having his breakfast song sung to him in the mornings and has tossed his halter across the barn aisle at me when I've forgotten to sing it.

He has a trot that hangs in the air like an unspoken poem, a snore during hot summer days that rivals any husband's, and a soft eye that melts away all tension and begs for a kiss.

He has only ground his teeth a handful of times since I've owned him, and those were in lessons where he was being pushed hard and perhaps unreasonably. We know better now.

Happy Birthday, Keil Bay. You're my partner in zen.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

salina's update

Thanks for the good thoughts! Salina is not worse today, but is not improving either.

We think she most likely overdid it in the field Saturday or Sunday, and that her left knee was the focal point. She continues to eat and drink normally, and is not testing positive for hoof pain right now, so abscess and founder have been ruled out.

The vet has recommended that we add Bute to her daily maintenance, and Surpass cream for her knees as well. He also thinks it's probably time to curtail her turn-out to smaller areas of the farm so she's less likely to do the mad dash gallop up the front hill that they all sometimes do.

Rafer Johnson will be gelded Friday, so Salina will get a follow-up check at that point to make sure we're on the right track.

I have known there would be a point she would need some restrictions - it's tough to hear that it's time, but I definitely don't want her to injure herself trying to keep up with the "geldings gone wild."

It makes me appreciate Rafer Johnson all the more - we'll tailor a turn-out plan so he gets some time to run with the boys and also gets to be with Salina. Fortunately the way our property is set up, she can have the barnyards and paddocks without being too far removed from the rest of the herd.

Just fyi, Rafer Johnson supervised the entire exam, with his head right over the vet's shoulder as he did the hoof testing! He also gave the vet some donkey hugs and made one very sneaky attempt to steal his cell phone. Salina was a queen, as usual.

Monday, April 28, 2008

and now, no longer coasting

I'm sitting here waiting for the vet to call because when I went out to feed, Salina was limping. Her left front knee is swollen and from the knee down is a little puffy as well. She doesn't want to put weight on that leg, so I'm now in rule out mode and have administered a gram of Bute, cold hosed the leg for 20 minutes, and was going to soak the hoof next but decided I want the vet's take before I move on to that.

She's willing to walk, especially on the grass, more carefully in the barn aisle, and ate breakfast just fine. I've got her stall open so she can walk in her paddock but also in the barn aisle and the barnyard. My experience with Salina is that if she keeps moving, everything is better. She's gone from the barnyard to barn aisle to stall to barnyard over the past hour, and is calm.

Sigh. I noticed yesterday she spent some time in the stall when she could have been out, and I wondered if she was off. I didn't notice lameness or swelling though, but it's possible she pulled something yesterday when out, came in, and because of last night's rain didn't move as much and is now stocking up some.

In any case, it will be a relief to get direction from the vet and probably a vet visit to sort this out.

I managed to get the yoga in, which is a good thing. Will likely not get any writing time, though.

coasting into the week

I'm not sure why, but that's what it feels like.

Saturday I took my daughter on a pre-birthday drive down to S. Pines where we ate lunch in a favorite restaurant, hit the tack store and the bookstore, tried to go to the Java Bean but they'd closed, and then headed home to prepare for her party which was yesterday.

We had fun looking at the new "bug-eye" fly masks, picking out purple grooming tools, and getting one of those Himalayan salt rocks to hang by the barn.

I also discovered a debut novel called The Outlander by Gil Adamson. With a black horse running on a snow-white cover, a Michael Ondaatje quote front and center, and copy flap comparing it to Charles Fraziers' Cold Mountain and early Cormac McCarthy, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I haven't started it yet, but I have high hopes for this book.

The party was nice and ended with a late-afternoon thunderstorm. It's still raining today, so unless they've forecast inaccurately and this clears out, we won't be riding.

My plan for the day is to do some yoga, feed and muck, finish the last 1/3 of the tack room spring cleaning, and then take a few hours for writing time.

I'm also going to breed my online Hanoverian stallion Griffon to my daughter's Hanoverian mare Cherry Baby, and watch some Battlestar Galactica with my son.

Meanwhile, the luscious rain is taking care of pasture management, arena maintenance, and pollen control.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

softness

Yesterday I was at the barn for two hours in the morning doing chores and then back out there from noon until 7 p.m. for lessons. Keil Bay had the day off due to his eye, so Apache Moon and Cody were in the line-up for the afternoon.

The wonderful thing about these lessons is that Marlis conducts them like a clinic so that we get information even when we're on the sidelines watching. We're working on softness in the bridle and helping the horses to find their own places of comfort with the bit.

Apache was experiencing some "pony" issues, but as usual, my daughter and Marlis worked through that quietly and competently. Every time I see this process, it has a bigger impact on me. Marlis advocates "letting the horse have the argument with himself" and this approach really works but it also feels very humane. There is never anything harsh or loud.

The lesson ended with Apache Moon doing 5 strides of incredibly soft, collected movement that had everyone present marveling.

Next up was Cody. Marlis had asked if it would be okay for her to get on and feel him move so she could better help us teach him to use his body well. We were excited at the prospect of seeing Marlis in the saddle - she doesn't do much riding of students' horses because she feels it's important to use the lesson time to get the student and horse connected and communicating. But with Cody we felt it would be useful for her to get the feel in the saddle.

My daughter and I have been trying hard to keep Cody in regular work this spring. We've come up with a riding schedule that allows Cody to be ridden every day (with a day or two off each week) by one of us. I work on bending and suppling and she does the endurance/stamina/overall strengthening work of lots of trot/canter. It's paying off.

Marlis noticed immediately that he was moving better, and she focused her time in the saddle on creating softness in the bridle and helping him feel comfortable. All this work was done at the walk. She talked through everything she was doing and why, so that when I got on I could pick right up with it. (she also did some work with Cody on stepping away from the mounting block - he was afraid of it when we first got him, and now is okay with it but will often take a step away when you mount. Marlis fixed that in about 5 minutes, with no words, no fuss, and it held when I mounted)

The instant I got on and gave him the cue to walk, his back rose up under me and the softness in the bridle rippled back through every muscle in his body. It was amazing. We walked until he and I got our signals clear with one another, and then did a little sitting trot work to maintain the softness at the faster gait. The main effect I felt was that his trot was incredibly soft and springy as his back came up to me with each stride. It was exactly like when you bounce a basketball and the ball comes up into your hand on the up bounce, that moment before you push it down again.

I noticed that the stirrups were hanging on my feet, and one slipped off, because I didn't need them. They weren't a part of riding that trot at all. It was really nice. The other thing was the synergistic thing that happens when one part of the horse-rider team gets soft. The other one follows. As Cody started out soft and stayed that way, my body got more and more relaxed and in rhythm with his body. As that happened, my position got better and better. By starting with softness, we "fixed" a number of things without fuss or bother or drilling position.

This is part of the magic in Marlis' work. She comes at things from a very organic place that flies in the face of the way I've ridden in lessons before. And the effect is that while there are moments when you feel you're taking baby steps, back in kindergarten, suddenly you make these huge leaps forward and realize what you're doing is quite advanced. In fact, so advanced you might never have done it before.

After my ride, Cody got a break and then did another lesson with our friend Sue, who had similar experiences of her own. She shared a technique for opening the pelvis while in the saddle that I'm eager to try. And I think it's safe to say we're all eager for our next round in two weeks' time!

Last night my husband discovered that three of our baby barn swallows had fallen out of the nest. All were safe and he returned them, and added a small "baby gate" so that they won't be able to tumble out. All is well this morning on that front.