Catching Up!

Okay, so it has been so long since I've written that it is almost like I am starting over. But not really, as I do have over a year's worth of posts on here. So to catch up, I'm going to recap my Fall then do another post on my wonderful trip to Corolla, North Carolina where I saw the wild horses there due to the trip I won in a raffle by the wonderful Corolla Wild Horse Fund.

I actually got to ride Skye a bit in the Fall, getting a  couple of good lessons in and a trail ride or two around the barn. The longest trail I got though was in October, when the Greenway (Anne Springs Close Greenway) had a fund-raising trail ride for past and current Adopt-A-Horse riders to raise some money for some new tack for the program horses. I can't seem to keep away from my horse friends out there, both equine and human, so I was so glad I could go.

It was mid-October and it was a picture perfect autumn afternoon, with that bright golden sun and changing leaves making every slightly orange. And best of all, I got to ride my buddy Whiskey. I had requested him early on, but there was some uncertainty about who I was riding (word was, John the equestrian services manager wanted to ride him, and he certainly trumps me) up until I got there. I actually can't think of any horse out there I wouldn't want to ride as I've never had trouble with any of them, but I really wanted Whiskey since I haven't taken him on a trail before even if in my heart I always pine a little for Goliath. (I love my Billy Bob as well, but he's such a bumpy son of a gun that my old bones want a smoother gait.)  Anyway, when I got there I was told I could ride Whiskey. Happiness.

Whiskey. Please hold your applause.
We need to keep him humble.

Except he wasn't so happy. He seriously balked coming out of the pasture, and if I hadn't known better, it would have hurt my feelings. Horses (and other animals as well) generally like me so much that I have to shoo them away from me, so it is always such a shock to me when a horse is less than delighted to come with me. And I have a problem with not being able to be mean enough to scare them into moving. I know it is mostly a respect thing, but horses have my number - they know damn well I will not hurt them. I will get very stern and will even whack 'em on the rump, but they look at me like I'm a toddler swearing: it's just not real. Finally, I really got stern with him and moved him around and he came with me.

I was a little worried that it was not a great start, but that turned out to be borrowing trouble, as he was fantastic on the trail. The shocking news is that I fell in love with him all over again. I had heard that he can be spooky, but he didn't give me a bit of trouble. The ride was really fun, because we were all advanced riders so we could pick up a little speed in appropriate places, and speed is fun. I confess to wishing for a smooth gaited horse in several places though as I was posting a quick trot while a friend beside me was barely moving. But in several of my alternate dream lives I have not one but several gaited horses, so I didn't even have to add it to my wish list. Of course, owning Goliath has been at the top of my wish list since I first met him anyway. I love that horse.

Goliath. Feel the love. I know I do. 

Here she is objecting to stall rest.

Skye was lame for a while in November due to an abscess that took forever to heal, mainly because it was deep in her hoof and couldn't really be reached by the farrier's knife. I soaked her foot in epsom salts and learned how to make a duct tape and diaper booty, both of which were oddly satisfying. I know that I could easily ride as much or even more, and for less money, if I leased a horse or simply did Adopt A Horse for twice a week, but it is times  when she is lame or needs other care that I learn more. And that we bond more. When I would soak her foot, I'd bring in and tie her outside her stall with a hay bag to munch on while we stood for as long as I could get her to do it. At first she didn't want any part of it, but I trained her to put her foot in the tub for a treat pretty quickly. Then I would just stand there with her while she ate, allowing me some time from my busy life to just breathe and think (and smell her neck). Occasionally she would turn her head to me to say hello. So while it was boring, and a bit of a pain, we liked it.




Finally, she got sound again, and the boys' horrible homework load and schedule kept me from getting out to the barn. Then, just as I was planning to ride a lot over Christmas break, she was limping AGAIN! I was so discouraged. So I gave her a few days off and went back out and she was fine. The next day I went out to get her, and said hello to my farrier who was out there to trim a couple of the barn horses. No sooner had he left than I saw that Skye's left hind shoe was practically falling off. I called him, and God bless him, he turned around and came right back out for me and put that shoe back on.

Once he was gone, I took her to the round pen to see her move and damn if she didn't have an exaggerated limp, almost like an abscess. AAAGH! So the next day I called the vet, as it seemed like she had been on and off constantly and I figured she really needed an examination of some kind. As it happened, the farrier was doing her horses that day and they both agreed to come out and take a look. So late in the afternoon, both of them meet me out at the barn. Stephanie, the vet, who is wonderful, took Skye and her lunge line and got her moving, while Brian, the farrier, and I watched. Naturally Skye has never been more sound in her life. She trotted around like a yearling, and no sooner had I said, "she's been stiff . . ." than she bucked and twisted and cantered around, clearly with joy for making a liar of me.  Brian looked at me, deadpan serious, and said "Jayne, that ain't stiff." Then he told me that it was worth driving all the way out there since he got to see the prettiest horse in the world. Then Stephanie said the same thing. At least they got some pleasure in making fun of me. They were really nice about it, and the good news is that Skye is sound now.

Soundness in motion. Flying Skye.
Who's prettier than that? Nobody, that's who.

She has been a butt-head under saddle though. She has been resistant to the bit, then obstinate in general, but she gets better as I ride. Last Sunday she was a real mess, but they were feeding her pasture mates and she let me know she was rather unhappy about that. Still, I had fun on her and feel like we are making progress, albeit slowly.

Our relationship is great though. We're to the point where we really know each other. I don't take her moods personally, and she knows my boundaries.  Recently she even ran up to me in the pasture, and I even had a witness! We were out in the dark and called her, and she and the other mares came running up. I'd say they were just running up hoping to be fed again, but she came right up to me like it was all planned. So I'm calling it her plan.

Curled up like a kitty-horse. I sat down with her and loved on her,
and it was bliss. She was fine; she had just been napping.

Isn't it amazing how something so big can be so adorable?

Go Go Girl

Ahhhh, now that I have my stupid specialty exam behind me (I took it Friday. All day Friday. Ugh), I can now get back to avoiding cleaning my house by writing my blog instead of worrying about my exam. Not that my minor worrying about the exam made me study for the exam, but it did distract me.

But I am back, and I am back in the saddle on my girl. Something Buck Brannaman said at his clinic struck a chord with me.  He said groundwork is important, and we should not neglect it, if we need it, but we shouldn't hide behind it either. We can only get so far on the ground before we have to get on. So I made a vow now that she is sound again that I need to ride her more and get back to the progress we had made before I went to camp.

So I have been riding her, and having a hell of a good time. I rode her on a Sunday afternoon, and though she was really ready to go, and wanted to trot and not walk, we reached an agreement early on in the ride that I was going to let her trot, but if she wanted to work, we would work. So we did figure eights, we did big circles, we did small circles, we did serpentines and went over ground poles. We did a clover leaf around barrels and we stopped and backed up and started trotting again. After all that, I asked for, and got a nice walk around the arena. And when I got off, she followed me just like a puppy out of the arena and into the barn.

The following Tuesday however, was a whole 'nother story. There was a nip in the air and a slight wind, and all the horses seemed riled up. I did a little lunging but not much because the arena had two lessons with beginners going on, and these two new sweeties were in the round pen:

Meet Copper and Winston, new additions to the
barn membership program. Yes, as a matter of fact they are
awesome.

Even though that girlfriend was a little touchy, I didn't want to hide behind my groundwork, and frankly it was just a beautiful night to ride, so I got on. Well, that red mare was READY TO GO. She wanted to trot almost immediately, but I kept her from trotting for at least a little while, then I just let her go. And she was going fast, and unlike recently, she hollowed her back again and had her head up and had none of the nice rhythm we'd had. Okay, though, I posted slower and put her in circles and figure eights, but finally went down the straightaway on the rail, and she just burst into a fast canter, and leaned in around the curve. She was on the correct lead and actually on her weak side, so I had to admire her spirit (and let's face it, fast is fun!), but I couldn't have her cantering around like a mad thing, thinking she could ignore me. So I brought her back down to a trot and worked in smaller and smaller circles moving her feet around, then finally getting a nice relaxed walk before calling it a night. I was a little discouraged, but all the horses were in a weird mood. I remembered the first days of fall at the barn where I grew up riding and how all the horses would run around in the pasture, so I decided not to let it bother me. And though she was feisty, then, as always, I never felt like she was trying to get rid of me. She just wanted her own way. Which is something I can understand even if I can't let her get away with it.

Here she is after being a wild thing.
Don't be fooled by that sweet expression.
She is not actually an angel in a horse suit.
Or so Sara tells me.

As it turns out, I was right not to overreact. (Sadly, overreacting is rarely the right thing to do, even though it is so nice and easy to do.) When I rode Skye again over that next weekend, she wanted to go, but not so badly that she didn't want to listen. Then on Tuesday I rode again, and I had one of the best rides I've ever had on her. She relaxed her head and neck much more, contained her trot to a nice easy rhythm and was very responsive to my leg and did not avoid nor lean into my light contact. Bravo, I thought, then quit while I was ahead.

Scarface. Who else could have scars front and center
like that and still be so beautiful?

And, as it happened that night, Craig was riding the beautiful Symphony that night. Symphony is a gorgeous and very well-trained American Warmblood who Erin bought to save for a girl to buy back one day. She is a great horse, and only advanced folks can ride her. I remarked that I'd like to ride her trot some time, since it is legendary for being so smooth. Craig said "do it now!"  So I said yes! And I hopped up on that pretty girl and walked a little and trotted a little. And her trot is amazingly smooth, and much easier to sit than to post to. This cannot be sad about my girl's trot. Yet, I did have to keep Symphony going. It didn't take much, but still, it made me miss the willingness to go forward that Skye has.  Symphony was great, but I still like my girl better. Shocking news.

Chow Time

The past couple of weeks have been a little crazy for me time-wise. The boys have had projects due and new extracurricular schedules to adjust to, so I have been needed at home and out to the barn a lot less.  I think the same thing has happened to other people, as when I did get out the barn, a couple of times all I had time to do was love on my girl a little then pitch in to help feed. It's always funny to me that feeding horses would technically classify as work, but that it never feels like that at all. I sure get a lot more gratitude from the horses than I ever get from Dave and the boys!

I helped to feed the mares first, and naturally my girl, as alpha, was the first to come in. Hmm. She was a little on the rude side, rushing me a little as I led to her to her bucket. I had to back her up a couple of times and then she waited for me. She did give me the stink eye the first time though. The feeders usually tell me she is a good girl, but I think she has been getting away with a little rushing, most likely because the feeders have a lot of horses to feed and can't be schooling all of them in manners. Still, it taught me that girl is getting sassy!

Sassiness refueling. What a nice
butt she has. Must be nice.

Then I got to help with one of the gelding herds, which included Bon Jovi and my dear friend Ike. Though he's the largest horse by far in that pasture (or any pasture for that matter), he is near the bottom of the herd, so he comes in second to last. As I was getting ready to get him, he was trotting around waiting and it was so good to see him strutting around. He is so huge and beautiful that it was just such a pleasure watching him. I had to wait for the only halter at the barn that fits him to be free, then I took him in to eat and he was very gentlemanly about being taken to his stall. Getting him out was something different, as that boy likes to hang in his stall. I tried to lead him out but he was having none of it. I tried moving his head side to side to make him take a step. Nothing. I flipped the lead line onto his butt, harder and harder. Nothing. When a mountain of a horse doesn't want to move, he doesn't want to move. Fine. I put the lead line over his shoulder, stepped to the side and tied my boot. Out he came, walking right toward his pasture, so I just followed him there, got the lead line then let him go. Then just for fun, I hung out in there with him. 'Cause he's awesome, that's why.

Ike. He's awesome. Face it.
Not everybody can pull off looking this intimidating with
their tongue out either.

Another night I went out and got my girl for some groomin' and grazin'. Black, the big Friesian (is that redundant? I guess all Friesians are big, but your sense of normal horse size gets warped after dealing with Ike) and Cowboy, a big Paint that looks like he has some Warmblood in him, were together in the round pen because Cowboy had an injury to a hoof.  Black is fantastically beautiful and a dream to ride, but I've never got the sense he likes me that much. He has an aloof personality anyway (he is a rescue who had been kept in a stall for 7 years, so he has his reasons), but most horses have my number and warm up to me pretty quickly. No so with Black. So though I like him, he and I have been somewhat strangers to each other.

Black admiring Skye from afar, and plotting his
big move to impress her.

So this night I brought Skye over to graze in that area where the grass and clover were nice. Of course, Black needed to get a good look at Skye, as all the boys like Skye. They touched noses, then Skye was done with him and went back to eating. I guess he got a little jealous of the grass, so he leaned over the rail of the round pen to reach some grass on the other side (where it truly was greener, as the round pen is pretty much of a dry lot). The top rail was no match for the weight of his neck, so POP went the side of the rail. He turned to look at me as I was heading over to it, like he was very pleased with himself. Then he leaned over the next one and did the same thing! Such a naughty boy. When I got there, he looked me right in the eye, then leaned over the now low barrier and started munching on the grass he could now reach, as if to show me things were a lot better now.

Then we had to move Black and Cowboy to another small paddock, and Black was just as sweet as he could be, standing there with me after I released him, giving me a good sniff all over, probably enjoying the scent of Skye on my clothes.

So now I'm in love with Black.  Shocking, I know.

Yes, this is the same pic from the other day.
10 points for Gryffindor if you noticed.

I'm starting fresh with Skye for the 100th time, as between her lameness and my schedule, she hasn't been ridden for weeks, and she has been resistant in the round pen both at liberty and on the line. She is still pretty good, but has not wanted to change directions or calm down and walk, so we'll go back there.

But she's still pretty.

Seriously. Who's prettier than that? Nobody, that's who.
I'm clearly completely objective.

Happy Camper!

I had so much fun at camp this past week that I feel like I should feel guilty about it.  At least I should feel guilty about gushing about it. Really, it couldn't have been better.

When I was a young teenager, a  few horsey girls I knew (who of course already had their own horses) got to go to a horse camp in Raleigh in the summer. I envied them so much that I actually got a bad taste in my mouth and a tightening in my throat when they talked about it. So when I heard about an adult horse camp, with horses and people I already knew and were crazy about, I almost couldn't believe it. The first year I signed up, I couldn't go because Dave had a conference the same week - at Disney World, in the exact year we were planning to go, so I couldn't go to camp. I didn't cry about it, but I kinda wanted to.

Then last year I did get to go, and it was wonderful. I was assigned my good friend Billy Bob, who is not the most popular horse because of his bumpy gaits, but he was perfect for me.

Billy Bob. Yes, he's cribbing.
Don't judge him.

We went on steep mountain trails and crossed a river, and rode in a big field and bareback in the ring, and I generally had a ball with his adorable self. He is one of the smartest horses I've known, and he is generally undaunted by things that scare lesser, though bigger, horses. As a matter of fact, I had such a good time, I didn't really think another week would live up to it.

I was wrong.

I was a little worried again that something would come up to keep me from going, so while I prepared for it by having work wrapped up and the laundry done, and the food bought for the family, I didn't really look forward to it in a way that would make me disappointed if I didn't get to go. I just couldn't believe I'd get to do it again.

I was wrong about that too.

Last week was so fun. I rode up with my friend Nancy, who does Adopt A Horse at the Greenway, and we had such a good time catching up that it felt like it only took 15 minutes to get there. Then we had to wait, and wait, and wait to find out which horse we were assigned. Last time, we found out as soon as we got there, but the waiting this year was actually really fun.  We grown up women don't get many good surprises anymore, so waiting a little longer to get one is better. The horses we ride at camp are all seasoned Tennessee Walking horse trail horses, so there's really not a bad horse to get.

I had asked for Goliath, but he is pretty popular because he is fun to ride, and is such a sweet and friendly boy, so I figured he would go to someone else. Also, since Billy Bob (or as I call him, William Robert) and I are happy together, I figured I might get him. But when Cory (who runs the camp) called out the names, I got that big black boy Goliath. Happiness! I adore that horse. (And yes, I did ask if I could buy him when I was looking for a horse of my own. I was told to get on the waiting list.)

Big horse with a sweet and gentle spirit.
I just love this boy so.

The first night we did a short trail to the campground, and it wasn't long before Goliath was up at the front with his gorgeous pasture mate, Diesel. Diesel is a gorgeous bay TWH with beautiful gaits. I have such a weakness for his good looks that even though we would have beautiful mountain views all week, the prettiest view was often just a few feet in front of me.

Diesel in the sun, showing how
it's done.

The next morning we split up, and several of us went into a big field that used to be used as an airplane landing strip. We were instructed to rack up and down the field. I'm not experienced at getting a gaited horse into his gait if he doesn't want to do it (Goliath does not), so I would position myself behind Delight (who was Nancy's horse for the week) or Diesel, and use their rhythm to get Goliath into his walking horse gait. He didn't do it for long, but it did get better every time.  He is pretty smooth even when he is not doing it right, so it was nothing but pure fun, riding in a straight flat field with a mountain on one side, a river on the other and blue sky with streaky white clouds up above. See, I warned you I would gush.


After that we switched off and took a trail ride. It has been raining a lot all summer, and a lot last week, so the trail was muddy and slippery and steep. At one point, we were going up beside a waterfall; at another point, we were slogging through some deep mud. It was a little scary in places, but I was never nervous because I can trust Goliath, and getting nervous doesn't do a damn bit of good anyway. I was a little relieved when it was over though.

But wait, it gets better. After dinner, we had the option to take a trail ride or do an English lesson. I still need to get my leg strength back, so I jumped at the chance for an English lesson even though it meant I wouldn't be riding Goliath.

Go ahead and fall in love with him.
Resistance is futile.

Oh my goodness. I was given a Quarter Horse named Whiskey to ride. I had heard good things about Whiskey before, and my friend Cathy, who got me into riding at the Greenway, has been telling me for years that I would love him. Let me tell you what a good time I had riding that horse. The minute I got on him, I felt like we were together, connected. He was so responsive, and willing to move, and when I cantered him, I had to keep myself from laughing like a maniac. I probably looked like The Joker riding him around that ring. And Perry, who gave the lesson and who is only 20, gave a really great lesson, having us do stretches and visualizing the correct position. Happiness! (Yes, more gushing, but you have been warned.)

The next morning I got to ride him again, and it was just like the day before. Awesomeness. I even asked Cory "how much you want for this horse?" Of course I was expecting to have him laugh in my face (not literally; Cory would never be rude, but he might laugh at me a little if I deserved it). Instead he said "make me an offer." Whaaaat? A Greenway horse for sale? After a year of my own horse giving me trouble at every ride?  I have to admit it has seriously given me something to think about because I had such a great time on that horse.

Whiskey is his name, being
awesome is his game.

We had another great trail ride (not treacherous this time), and another great ride in the field. Then Tuesday evening, we rode some of the smoothest horses bareback. Bareback night is always fun, not just because we have fun riding, but because we all watch and encourage each other. One camper rode bareback for the first time. Another did it and reminded herself (in spite of herself!) how good at it she actually is. It's wonderful to watch someone conquer a fear and smile about it. I am not the great bareback rider I was in my youth, but I still think there is nothing like it, and I want to get good at it again. I rode all three of the horses they got out for us, Spirit, the wonderful Delilah and Clyde, who almost rivals Goliath for sweetness. I didn't do much more than walk (I can so easily picture an undignified slide into a manure pile), but I loved it anyway.

It rained Wednesday morning, but then cleared after lunch, and we all got a good long ride in anyway. Then in the afternoon we all gathered on the porch and talked. Talked horses, talked kids and laughed. And felt very lucky.

Wednesday evening, Cathy and I went down to say good-bye to the horses. Goliath and Billy Bob (who Cathy had been assigned after her favorite boy Prankster showed up with a sore shoulder) were the first and last to visit us, being the probably the friendliest of the bunch.

Friends. Sort of. And stop judging Billy Bob.
We all have our bad habits.

Then we got a last minute treat - new horse friends! There are horses that live on the mountain for year round trail rides. They live at the barn except during the summer when the Greenway horses are there for camp. We see them in the pastures when we ride past, but this night, the Greenway horses were put in the field we had been riding in, and the mountain horses were in the pasture right across a gravel road from each other. We saw them check each other out across the road, all pricked ears and alertness. Very cute. We watched them from the swinging bridge over the river, where we had hung out and had a good talk after visiting our four-legged friends.

Swinging, baby, yeah!

So we went down and loved on them as well, and fell instantly in love with them. I'm glad I got to meet them before we left.

One of the mountain horses checking out the intruders.

The intruders from the Greenway checking out the
mountain horses. They can't believe we're fraternizing with the enemy.
Billy Bob is already bored with them; he is the one grazing on the left.

We had a wonderful breakfast the next morning, then headed for home. It couldn't have been better.

I'll hold this image in my mind until next year.
Everything looks wonderful from here.

And she ran, she ran so far away

So after my wonderful weeks with Skye where she was following me around the pasture, then the week where she was questioning me a little after she was top of the heap o' mares in her pasture, I was ready for the other shoe to drop.  It did.

Lovely, huh? Not so fast . . . .

Yes, she looks beautiful there, doesn't she? So peaceful and happy with her new servant Caroline there beside her. This is how I found her when I went to get her on Tuesday evening. I walked up to her, and as I started to put the halter on her, she wheeled away and trotted off. So I then chased after her, and kept her feet moving for a good bit, figuring if she wanted to go, I should make her go. I'd also heard from several different sources that if they run from you, you need to take charge and chase them until they want to stop. The obvious problem with that scenario is 1) horses can run faster and further than people and 2) pastures are big.

So she and her minions, i.e. every horse in the pasture, cantered down to the gate, with me huffing and puffing behind.  When I got close to Skye, I just looked her and gave her my "are you kidding me?" look, which I swear she understands. We stood looking at each other for what felt like several long moments. Then she moved her left front leg almost imperceptibly in my direction. Good enough. I stepped forward and put the halter on her.

Leading her out of the pasture, I was diligent in my leading, not giving her any room for anything disrespectful but not in an angry way. At first I was amazed at my patience, but then I realized something - I thought it was funny. I had seen that this kind of something was coming, but I also knew that in reality it had very little to do with me, and everything with her new boss mare attitude. Yes, I am going to have to be more authoritative with her, as her respect is a little harder to come by, but I probably needed to do that anyway. Now it's not an option.

I took her directly to the round pen for what I call "listening lessons," ground work to get her remembering I'm the brains of the operation. She was a little resistant at first, but she came around pretty quickly, and was relaxed and rhythmic enough at the trot for me to have her canter a little as well.  In the past, she would get nervous at the canter, but as she gets in better shape, I need for her to canter to get used to doing it again. And she sure as hell had felt like cantering when she was running away from me.

While we were out there, Erin started spraying an insect fogger in the arena. Skye did not like this at all. She stopped stock still and stared at it, then glanced at me, then stared again. I put myself between her and evil fogger, grabbing at the opportunity to position myself as her protector.

"What the hell is that? I better get behind this woman that chased me around earlier."

She was funny because she was both interested and nervous. When Erin came around the other side of the round pen with the fogger, I crossed over to talk her.  A moment later, I felt breath on my neck. Skye had come up behind me to get a better look at the sprayer, trying to hide behind me as she did it. Now, I could certainly stand to lose weight, but I'm pretty sure a horse cannot truly hide behind me.

I lunged her a little in the arena over the cavalettis to work her back, then picked her feet, sprayed her for flies and put her back. As we approached the pasture gate, her attitude began to deteriorate again, so I backed her a couple of steps, then led her in and moved her around a little once inside the pasture. When I let her go, she let me pat her good-bye then she walked off. She moved up into a trot and headed back to her beloved herd.

This might seem like a small thing, but the fact that I just accepted it and dealt with it instead of taking it so personally is a huge step for me, and therefore for my Skye.

I'm heading out to the barn in a few minutes for a lesson with Sara. We'll see if I'm so content about it if she does it again.

Return of the Queen

Yes, as the title suggests, Skye has been returned to her rightful position as Queen of the Pasture. I always love observing herd dynamics, and this recent move to a pasture full of mares has been very interesting to watch.

Mare herd. It looks like Tahoe is bowing to Her Highness.

Skye was alpha in the group of three mares she was with when I bought her, then again lead mare in the Greenway pasture (though secondary to Magic, her big black TWH boyfriend).  She was a very good alpha in what we called the Pony Herd, because several of the horses in there were small. The Pony Herd needed a good alpha as Ginger was running the show, and though we all love Ginger, she is a bit of a bully when she is in charge (not that I'm comparing her to Dolores Umbridge, but you get my drift. And if you don't know who Umbridge is, go get out your Harry Potter for Pete's sake).

When Leo was put in the Pony Herd, he and Skye fell in love at first sight. This brought out the bully in Ginger, who had no intention of giving up her second place status, and it brought out an attitude in Skye that I can only describe as "I don't care about nothing but my man." She and Leo became their own herd and the others became their own herd under Ginger's nefarious leadership. This also led to extreme buddy sourness with Ginger and Reebok. At that point, Erin decided that things needed to change, and she separated the herds into geldings and mares. In a smaller mare herd with Ginger, Skye was suddenly beta. I hate to admit it, but it was hard to see her bossed around by Ginger.  However, I could tell that Skye was only going to take so much from Ginger, but that Ginger strangely could not see this.

Then Erin moved the small mare herd in with the larger one in the huge pasture. Skye got some scrapes and kicks, and we were all holding our breath hoping Skye would be boss mare, since she is a good one. She is respectful and well-behaved, and neither bullies nor tolerates bullying in her herd. Alas, it appears that the ladies all formed three distinct cliques, and Skye was not the boss of any of them. Ginger still ruled in her little pod.

Enter Caroline, a new palomino mare. Erin introduced Caroline to Symphony first, letting them hang together in the round pen for a day to get to know each other. Then she swapped out Symphony for Skye. Skye instantly became alpha to Caroline, then took that attitude back into the big pasture. I suspected Skye had pushed her way to the top, then confirmed it yesterday at the water trough. Skye took her place, and all the horses, including the leaders of the group, made way for Her Royal Highness to come through. Then they drank in the order she allowed, as she drank first then didn't object when the leaders drank beside her, but she swung her head and flattened her ears at bit at the yearlings and Phoenix (who just turned 3 but has a bit of an alpha personality). Skye also keeps looking back at her herd, feeling responsibility for them. Girlfriend is back on top.

No need to curtsy. She's not a very formal monarch.
Obviously, since she is sticking her tongue out
in this picture. 

But not so fast, that's not all good. Just when Skye and I were very simpatico, all this happens and now she is challenging my authority since she is now remembering she's pretty damn good at being in charge. So, she has been in a bit of bitchy mood (which may have been partially based on being in heat) and not respectful. However, I feel like I have a lot more tools in my arsenal to keep her respectful without being a jerk to her. I just need to remember to apply them in the pasture when I get her.

Nevertheless, I have had very good days with her lately. Saturday I lunged her over the ground poles and groomed her and let her graze nearby while I talked. Yesterday, I tacked her up, lunged her a bit to get her respect back, then took her for a short and lovely trail ride. She really wanted to go back most of the time, but she still listened to me, and I used her energy to my advantage in letting her march forward nicely and use her back over the dead limbs and little ditches.

Plus, I like that my mare is Queen. I just like it.

Relationship Status

So I started this blog with the intention of tracking my progress with taking Skye from a borderline neglected horse to realizing her potential as a great trail partner and arena horse, then when things really get rolling and improve, I get too busy to write! Aagh. Because quite a bit has been happening, I'm doing three posts in a row.

Anyway, although it has been a while since I wrote on here, partially from vacation, spending time at the barn and the pool and lolling about on my back deck with a beer in hand, I really do want to relate my progress so I can see the continuum of her training and my evolution as hopefully a better horsewoman.

Hard to believe this gorgeous girl would need to progress into being a
better horse, but we are working on it anyway.

I have been continuing to work with Sara on getting Skye in better shape. My girl seemed to have two problems under saddle. First, she didn't seem to want to give to the bit. We suspect she was just jerked around a bit before she came to me but had not really gotten the concept of the bit as a means of communication instead of "the thing that must be avoided because it jerks me around." I totally understood this, as that theory matched her behavior to a t. My reaction to that had been to give her a completely loose rein, assuming she would learn over time that I am never going to jerk her in the mouth. My soft hands are one aspect of my riding that I am particularly proud of. I was taught to ride without stirrups or reins, so leaning on them or against them has never been my problem.

However, Sara has pointed out to me that since I don't jerk on her mouth, I can teach her to trust me by making soft contact and using it as communication more than for steering. This has been excellent advice, as Skye's reaction to the bit has improved by leaps and bounds.

Skye's second problem is the hollowing of her back. Part of that is the reaction to the bit, but it is also somewhat related to lack of strength in her back. So Sara has helped me work her with side reins, over trot poles and getting her to go forward at a nice marching walk with contact, which is helping her round up at least for short periods. I also do some exercises with her to engage her hind quarters, and have taken her on a couple of trail rides, particularly on hilly terrain to help her. This is helping slowly, but we have had so damn much rain that the trail rides have been less frequent than anyone at the barn would like.

All this is to say that I am finally enjoying riding my horse. Ever since I moved to my present barn, I have been enjoying her presence and working with her, and having pride in how beautiful she is, and how well behaved on the ground. But riding her was stressful.  But now I am back to remembering why I wanted to buy her in the first place. Because she has great spirit, great potential and she's intelligent and kind. And pretty. Pretty counts for horses.

Peaceful. And pretty.

When I worked with a different trainer last summer, Skye's attitude toward me worsened. The trainer told me that was to be expected since we were making her work. Not so now. Although she has her off days, not a one has been as bad as a typical day last summer when I couldn't get her out of the pasture without a struggle with her balking every ten feet and planting, or pulling back like a mad thing, or just generally giving off an "I hate you" vibe. There were several days I cried driving away from her pasture last summer, as it was the opposite of the experience I wanted.

Now, she knows I am her person, and she likes it that way. I recently went roaming around her pasture hunting for her fly mask, and she followed along beside me every step of the way. It just filled me up. She walks up to me in the pasture, and now that she is in a different pasture, she tends to graze right across from my van. Yes, I know it's probably a coincidence, or at best a recognition of where the treat machine comes from, but I like it anyway. And Skye loves Sara. Skye watches every move she makes with a soft alert expression, never the annoyance or fear I saw with the other trainer. Sara has her own barn and website. Here it is:

http://partnershipequestriancenter.com

Best of all, I have really begun to enjoy riding her. We're still working it out, but she is getting in better shape, and is trusting me that I'm not punishing her, I'm teaching her what we can do.

Just for the record though, I still miss Reebok and the dinkies.

Wild Wild Horses

While on our annual beach trip to our own version of paradise, Emerald Isle, NC, Laeti (our former au pair whom I call my French daughter but who now lives in London and works like a dog but gets to meet famous British people with some regularity) and I decided to embark on a trip to Shackleford Banks. Shackleford  Banks is an uninhabited island just off the mainland across from Beaufort, North Carolina, which is one the oldest towns in the state. Descendants of Spanish horses brought over during the initial European arrivals to North Carolina live wild on the island, so it's even more worth the trip for me. The horses are pony-sized because the conditions and nutrition on the island, so they are often called Banker ponies, as Shackleford Banks, as well as other islands along the NC coast line, are all part of the Outer Banks. (For folks outside of NC, or for folks not from the coast, the area called "the Outer Banks"  by tourists is further north, and the area we visit is considered the southern Outer Banks.)
 

Skye and Laeti. Laeti knows a good thing when
she see it!

Laeti, my other French daughter Morgane (I'm so lucky; I have two!) and I took this trip several years ago, and trekked for what seemed like forever in 98 degree (F) heat and finally found a herd in the center of the island. This time Morgane was not with us (we missed her!), but my son George came with us since his twin brother Sam went fishing with his dad.

We took a ferry over from Beaufort, and ride was beautiful. When we last went across the sound there, Laeti, the boys and I had gone over to Cape Lookout, and we saw dolphins playing in the water beside the boat, sea turtle tracks from a nest on Shackleford and the ponies taking a dip off the beach. This time nothing of note happened, but it was just lovely all the same.

They let us off at the end of the island, and remembering our last trip, we headed around the sound side (side facing the mainland) which we now knew the ponies preferred. We started looking casually for shells as we walked and before we knew it, we had handfuls of our favorites. My favorite shell is Sinum perspectivum, whose common name is Baby's Ear. Take a look and you can see why.

My favorite shell.

For years I rarely found one, but this year I found over 50. George and Laeti found a lot for me and a lot of others as well.

Just as we started to put a little life in our step to go on a pony safari, Laeti spotted a dark horse about 500 yards away. Excitement! Yes, I see horses all the time, but seeing a wild one in nature is still a thrill. We headed in that direction and even after we lost sight of him or her, we knew we were on right track because . ..

Hoofprints in the sand! Thrilling.
My unpedicued foot, not so thrilling.

We're just like Aragorn in Lord of the Rings with our tracking skills, aren't we? We don't miss a thing! You would think having seen this, we would not be surprised to look up and see, literally right in front of us . . .

 A wild pony. Her name is Ariel, which is just another way that she is perfect.

Yet, somehow we were surprised, perhaps because we thought that the ponies would somehow give a toot that we were standing there and move away. Happily, they did not. We backed off a little to make sure they didn't feel threatened just in case they were just pretending that they couldn't care less.

Almost immediately two young women dressed in what looked like Steve Irwin outfits walked up. They were students from Princeton studying the horses for the summer, and needed to gather some of the ponies' poop for analysis. We asked them a couple of questions, but they weren't very forthcoming. Not so much because they had a secret mission, but it felt a little like "you wouldn't understand." This could have been Princeton attitude or perhaps just Yankee attitude. I was tempted to say "I've been coming here since before you were born, young lady!" But that sounded old and crotchety, so instead I mentioned how I had seen a sea turtle lay her eggs on Shackleford when I was my son's age. The one I told just nodded. I'd rather be my age and thrilled to see a wild pony than be her age and not thrilled by anything. Her job beats the Hell out of mine though. (I would in fact rather roam the beach searching for pony poop than be stuck in an office, but that's a long story for another day.)

Then as we were walking away, we spotted something else interesting.

In case you can't read it, it says "Edward Daniel Brown, Beloved Son." Obviously a gravestone or memorial of some type. Very curious. This was just a matter of feet from the water's edge, so it wasn't the wisest choice of gravesite, what with the constantly shifting sands and all. In any case, this is a testament to the fact that someone very much loved Edward Daniel Brown, and I saw the evidence of it. And now so have you. Mission accomplished.

From there, we trekked through the hot and sandy interior of the island hoping to catch sight of another herd. After a far amount of stoicism from Laeti and me and a far amount of complaining from George, we were rewarded.

Another herd. That's Beaufort in the distance.

George got tired of looking at horses pretty quickly. And yet he is related to me. Weird, huh? We continued on through the dunes separating us from the ocean, then arrived on the unspoiled beach to eat our lunch.

George on this unspoiled beach. He magically transformed into his ebullient self after
some Oreos and water. Amazing!

We then played around on the beach and looked for, and found, a bunch of shells. We then left too late to catch our ferry, requiring us to race in an undignified manner to get our trip back to the mainland. It would take more than that to spoil a day like that though.

To learn more about the ponies at Shackleford Banks, go to:

http://www.shacklefordhorses.org

We also have wild horses in the northern Outer Banks. To learn more about them, go to:

http://www.corollawildhorses.com

Progress Progress

Girlfriend engaged in her favorite
type of bonding activity.

So now on Friday nights I am working with Sara, who teaches our regular lessons at the barn, and Skye is really making progress.  My big concern with her ring behavior, i.e. throwing her head up and ears back and hollowing out her back when we trot, then not wanting to walk after she has trotted at all, has been that she is in some kind of pain. We have checked her back and saddle fit, and her behavior without tack, with tack and under saddle. And while I am still going to get her looked at by a chiropractor for my own comfort (a barn friend recommended one who is very good and very honest about whether your horse needs treatment or not), it appears that Skye's behavior is behavior based and not based in pain. That being said, I plan to continue doing exercises that supple and strengthen her back.



Anyway, that girlfriend was in heat on Thursday and was in her usual discombobulated mood over it. Plus, someone was shooting a gun somewhere off in the distance which didn't help. But we tacked her up and took her into the arena, where she made me look bad at first by being pretty trotty at the end of the lunge line. She is fine with my longer lead line, but gets tense in the presence of the lunge line and the lunge whip, (though you can run it all over her body and she doesn't flinch).

Sara took over, and worked her at the walk and the trot and helped calm her down. I take it so personally when Skye is unhappy at all, but Sara is encouraging me to trust my horse enough to let her work it out for herself that she is being foolish. Some horses won't get it, some will take a long time to get it, and some, like mine, will get it pretty quickly that the tension is coming from them, not from us. So we got her in her thinking and attention-paying frame of mind, and she calmed down considerably. Then we put the side reins on.

We had put side reins on before, and Skye had been, surprisingly to me, pretty chill about it. Last night, however, was another story. She tried to throw her head a little and kept backing up, but Sara just nudged her forward with the lunge whip until she got that forward with her head in a reasonable position would release the very light pressure. (Sara adjusted them so she had plenty of room to move but still couldn't reach the sky with her nose.) After a little work at the walk, Sara moved her into her trot, and after a couple of circuits of her moving her nose around, Skye settled into what looked like a comfortable rhythmic trot. Just what we were looking for.

Then Sara asked if I wanted to get on her, or have her do it. I've been curious to see if it's me that is causing or contributing to this behavior, and I'm not  going to turn down the opportunity to have a horse professional I trust (I love how she treats Skye, and Skye trusts and likes her, which means so much to me) ride my horse for me! At first, Skye did a nice relaxed walk, then a nice forward walk, and I started feeling pretty crappy, like it was me all along. But no, true to form, about five minutes in, she started breaking gait into a short-strided trot, nose in the air, ears back, back hollow. Sara worked with her teaching her to get comfortable with some contact, and working on her getting the idea to move her body away from real leg pressure, and adjust to normal leg contact. It took a few minutes of stress on Skye's part, but after a while she settled into a more rhythmic trot, like she had on the lunge line, and was getting used to contact. Despite her discombobulated mood, she ended up really doing well. And, shocking news alert: she looked just beautiful. I know I spend more time mooning over her and less time riding her, but I can't help it. I just love that mare.

Today was absolutely beautiful, so I headed out assuming someone would want to take a trail ride. Amazingly, only a couple of people were there riding in the ring. Crazy. So I got that girl and gave her a long intensive grooming, trimming her mane and giving her a little massage based on some techniques I found in an old Equine Massage book I ordered from an online used book seller. She usually acts like she tolerates grooming, but she really relaxed today and seemed to enjoy it.  Then we worked a little in the round pen on stretches and spent some time talking and letting her graze on the clover in the shade. Nothing exciting, but we had a nice time together.

Sweet boy in his stall. Enhance your viewing pleasure by
noting the cross on his back and his tiny hooves.

And, I said a final good-bye to that sweet dinky. He has been caught and put in a stall and will be delivered to his new home, where his sons have been for weeks, probably tomorrow. He looked tiny and alone in the stall, but he recognized me. I wished him good luck with the rest of his donkey life.  I will miss him. He charmed me so with his big eyes and long ears and stripey legs and tiny hooves. If his new owner is half as enchanted with him as I am, he will be fine.

"And I --ee-I will always love you!"
I don't sound a thing like Whitney Houston,
but the sentiment is the same. I love him so.

Fresh Horses

I can't believe it has been a while since I was on here, but I have been out at the barn a lot, spending quality time with my girl and falling in love.

Yes, there is shocking news. I'm in love again; he's an older male, large and distinguished, with a mysterious and somewhat tragic background. This, even when I had vowed to myself not to get attached to another animal whose destiny was not in my control.  I vow to do better in the future.

In the meantime, here he is:

Meet Bo. Short for Beaujolais. Feel free to love him.
Resistance is futile.

Isn't he adorable? Erin has been getting new horses for the program, and she had specifically been looking for a draft horse, since they are calm and can carry larger riders that come out for trail rides. This beautiful boy belonged to a neighbor of one of the regular farriers who comes to the barn. The family that owned him had recently suffered several tragedies in a row, and had to sell their property and needed to place this sweetie pie in a hurry.  It was freakily fortuitous that Erin had a space and a need at the same time this family needed to deal with things other than a horse. He so exactly fits the bill of what Erin needed that she has said she feels guilty that she got him this way.

Erin said he is about 20, and when I mentioned to someone else that he looked liked a Clydesdale that person said she had been told that. Not that it matters. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. (Yes, Shakespeare! Could you not tell this is an upscale blog?)

Anyway, he is just as sweet as he can be, and pretty much everybody at the barn has fallen for him. He is special friends with Munchkin, which is so adorable it's almost too much to take.  (Good thing those dinkies had built up my immunity so I am not overwhelmed.)

Look at his feathered feet! Enchanting!

We are just walking him at this point to build up his muscles while Erin works on putting a little weight on him. I got to ride him bareback on Thursday, and any scrap of resistance to his charms that I had left was shredded. He was just as good as gold.

Another new guy is Ratchett. He is a registered Paint, but he is completely black, and just as handsome as can be. He is even rather dashing as he has a mustache. I tried to get a picture of it, but he kept kissing on me so I couldn't get one yet. Apparently he is fun to ride, but still tests people and has a hard time picking up on one of his leads. I don't have to care, as I love him anyway.

Just for the record, I still miss Reebok something awful. Only Ginger understands.  She has taken over leadership of Skye's pasture, which is surprising. She has been pushing my girl around a little, but I don't think Skye will take it for long. The dynamics of that pasture changed when Leo was in there, and once he was moved to a different place, Ginger remained her somewhat bullying leadership. The other girls in the pasture, Symphony and Digits (this is one good-looking set of mares, lemme tell ya), don't put up with much from her, but it's not for Ginger's lack of trying. We'll see how long it lasts, but overall the pastures are all well-balanced now.

The Three Bay Mares, Skye, Symphony and Digits.
Skye with her fly mask is still beautiful.
My objectivity is stunning, isn't it?

As for my girl, we are working on getting her problems under saddle finally addressed. I had my first lesson with Sarah, the barn teacher, last Tuesday. Sarah's approach is to get her comfortable giving to pressure in tack (which immediately changes Skye's attitude a little) but not being ridden in the arena,  as much as possible, and riding very casually on trails so she gets a combination of learning to give to pressure, relax with tack, and relax with being ridden. Sarah worked with me and my girl privately two Fridays in a row, and we are seeing real progress. I also am doing some exercises to work her back and using the fancy-pants saddle pad I bought for her (with memory foam!). So while I am actually doing a lot with her, it is different every time and I think she likes that. The best part - Skye loves and trusts Sarah, so I can feel great handing Skye over to her. Unlike when I worked with a trainer before, I no longer have to wince when I watch someone else with my horse.

Yesterday, Dani (who owns the adorable TWH rescue Mosey) and I took our horses for a walk through the woods.  Mosey needs some more weight and conditioning before he can be ridden, and I wanted to work Skye's back on the hills. It was really fun, and a great way to connect with that girl.

In other news, Erin's twin young horses, Tahoe and Reno, are up in the mare pasture, and have taken up with a new boarder's horse, Tomi. Tomi is a really sweet older mare, and the three have instantly bonded. Ginger had been bullying Tomi something terrible when they were in the other pasture, so Erin moved Tomi into the big mare pasture, and it has worked out beautifully.

This is Tomi. Isn't she elegant?

Dinky in the distance.

And the lone dinky remains in the gelding pasture. I've touched him a couple of times, but he is still so suspicious that he wheels away the minute I get too friendly. I feel bad for him, as he must miss his dinky little sons. I'll catch him soon though, even though I will miss his little self.

Another Hard Good-bye

Well, Saturday and Sunday have been tough for me this week. I headed out on Saturday, determined to get on that girl, work on loosening and strengthening her back and maybe helping to catch the lonely dinky (who remains elusive despite hours of chasing and attempts to catch him by others). As soon I got there, Erin told me, so I would know, that some people were coming out to see Reebok and that they sounded like they wanted to take him. Since he trusts me, I volunteered to get him out and show off  his best behavior. She thanked me, as apparently that is exactly what she was hoping I would say, as she had a bunch of trail riders coming in and her usual busy Saturday.

The people arrived, and I was so relieved because they honestly couldn't have been nicer. A mom-age (45 years old maybe?) woman, her 12 year old daughter and another daughter who seemed around 10. They were really nice, and loved the way that boy looked. And boy, he was extra nice. I called to him to get him in, even though we couldn't see him from the gate, and wouldn't you know he came boogying up with his cute little gait and met us at the gate. The family was charmed, as the lady said she had always had to chase their horses to get them. I could happily tell her that catching Reebok is about as difficult as catching a potato. He sighed and nuzzled me (in a sweet, not disrespectful way) and they fell in love with him.

Who would not be charmed?

I worked him around in the round pen for a little bit, and he backed and came back to me beautifully, then went to the end of the line at a nice walk. I could not get him to go any faster than a walk though, and he kept coming in to me. So I loved on him, and told the folks that his doing this was entirely my fault, as I am not firm enough with him because I don't have the backbone to be anything but sweet to him. They could tell this was true. They came in and loved on him, and he just loved it.

Erin got back and tacked him up and rode him a little, and he did great. I then felt very foolish that I had not pressed harder for her to do it sometime I was there so I could have ridden him. I've never ridden an "unbroken" horse before; I guess I was just reluctant. Then the lady rode him and after a false start or two (he could tell she wasn't confident, as it had been years since she had ridden), he did great for her too. They were such nice people, but I have to say I have reservations just because he will be alone where they are. Erin says he will be better off because he will bond with them better, but it breaks my heart to think of him all alone.

He couldn't bear to see me cry.

Before I left yesterday, I went out to say good-bye to him, and it just tore me up. He was just as sweet as a puppy to me, so much more affectionate than Skye has ever been.  Rip, Lisa and Craig were all there admiring the awesomeness of Cowboy, and I thought their presence would keep my tears at bay. It did not, and I've been crying in secret off and on all weekend.

In any case, they decided to take him and were to pick him up today. It was pouring down rain all day, and in a way I'm glad I wasn't there. The bottom line is that he was not my horse, and since I couldn't afford a second board, he had to go and make room for a horse Erin could use on trails and in the membership program. I just wish I hadn't let myself get so attached. My attachment to him did him some good though, because he is much easier to handle now.

Before I said good-bye though, I did get to mess around a little with my girl. She came up to me in the pasture again, which is a relief (I don't know if it was Leo or spring grass she was hesitant to leave last week). And she was a good girl. I groomed her quickly, which is a lot easier now that she is shed out and sleek again. Then I tacked her up and led her over the ground poles in the ring several times. Amy, who is the mother of twin girls who own Chloe and a good rider in her own right, asked what I was doing and I told her I was working on loosening and strengthening Skye's back.

Lo and behold if she didn't come over and check Skye for soreness and tightness. Amy is a physical therapist and proceeded to point out different muscle groups that tighten and cause soreness. She stretched out that girl's legs and massaged her  in several places and Skye just loosened right up on the spot. We found a sore spot, and Amy told me stretches I could do with her head to help it. Skye was so cute as she relaxed. Then I got on and went over the poles on her a couple of times. Then she stepped on herself and ripped her left front shoe right off. Durn. Thankfully, it came off cleanly and didn't seem to harm her foot in any way.

I am dreading the Reebok-shaped hole I will see in the pasture from now on out there, but I feel like Skye and I are getting somewhere at last.