Recently I attended a webinar given by Shawna Karrasch about her On Target Training System. I wanted to check it out, that whole clicker training thing, and I discovered that I’ve been using it all along, except in my case the clicker is my voice saying “good boy”. Both constitute positive reinforcement ideals.

Her principles are sound and good and if anyone is having trouble with their horse they might want to consider what Shawna has to offer. If you are interested you can check out her stuff at www.askshawna.com.

Shawna spoke of her common sense training system and several horse related issues. One of the issues she spoke of is spooking and as I listened to her my ADD mind wandered (as it always does) and I remembered a day trail riding with my horse which gave me the inspiration to write this essay.

Now you remember that my horse had formerly been a racehorse (a sprinter) and he has been known to spook from time to time. If he’s feeling especially delicious it can be one heck of a spook at that.

I think it's funny how I never considered him spooky (and still do not) though when I think about it, he’s spooked dozens of times. Big ones, too.

In the beginning of our time together his spooks consisted of “spin at lightning speed, then bolt off”. It was quite the pain in the ass.

As time passed and he became far braver the spooks changed twice. Spook One consisted of his lowering his altitude (like a cow horse crouch) in a millisecond then taking a look step to the side. Although this spooking technique was far better that “spin n bolt” it was still quite the pain in the ass. Often it felt as if my ass managed to travel far while my head was left for a moment where it was, like I was some sort of Warner Bros. cartoon.

Spook Two, which currently is the most common spook, is “startle in place, perhaps decreasing ones altitude”. Again, this consists of crouching down like a cutting horse. This spook is pretty cool and not at all a pain in the ass. I do not resemble a Warner Bros. cartoon.

I often marvel at how I don’t move at all for this spook and often don’t realize there even is a spook until it is over. I figure this is because I am very relaxed most of the time. There’s no time for my body to resist the movement and instead I sort of just go with the flow. That, or I'm just plumb tired.

(It is when you have fear that you tense up and then such a spook can unseat you because your body is working in opposition as opposed to moving in unity with the horse)

Once in a while he’ll still do the step thing, but he has to be very, very frightened. Like a deer-suddenly-jumping-out-a-foot-from-us frightened. But most of the time he just gets real looky and tenses his body. I have discovered that Chihuahuas in baby carriages at shows and abandoned coffee mugs in an indoor during a clinic can be the cause in these cases. I get past it by laughing at him and calling him a boob, and he is apparently okay with that.

Sometimes his spooks are so benign that although I feel his insides jump, his outsides stay in place. This kind of spook I consider victory.

But no matter which he does I think my reaction is the number one reason why his spookiness has decreased over time. I kinda laugh at him and make fun of him. “Oh now you big baby, what’s the matter, a tree frightens you now?” And then I start chattering and I can feel him breathe a good “whew”.

I have no doubt that if I acted differently it would feed the spooks and I do have to admit that once or twice I’ve been actually a little bit a-scared. But when I figure out that I’m a-scared I get pissed, because I’m never a-scared dammit!! Plus being a-scared becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and supposedly I’m too smart for that. Or at least that's what my blogs say.

So on this one particular summers day I was riding in the large park near my barn. This park is used by many, equestrians and non-equestrians alike. Much to my chagrin, many hunters also utilize the park and do all sorts of hunting stuff in there.

I was riding alone and my horse was getting all into the trail ride with his ears alertly pricked forward and a nice long swinging gait. Relaxation at its best. We were content.

Then, all of a sudden a young Weimaraner comes bouncing up to him, stops in front and begins to bark at his face. Horsey froze and I began to talk him through it. A moment later a pistol carrying hunter type came strolling by and began to correct the dog. He figured his dog was being a nuisance, but I saw opportunity.

 

  

I said to the guy let the dog go and let’s see what transpires. Certainly I’d run into more dogs on the trail and I should cross this bridge now. Better now than never! Within moments, Weimaraner was standing on his back legs touching noses with my horse. Both dog and horse were okay with this and endlessly fascinated with one another.

I asked the hunter guy if the gun was loaded and he said it was, but with blanks. I asked him to begin shooting it repeatedly and he was happy to oblige. His must have figured his dog was getting trained too!

So there we were, the horse, the hunter and the Weimaraner all making nice nice while the pistol was repeatedly fired. It went splendidly.

We shook hands, both very happy with what we’ve accomplished training wise. I bid him and Weimeriner goodbye and continued my ride.

Up ahead I saw another horse and it was being very naughty. I rode up and saw the reason why. A hunting club had put throughout the park a bunch of fiberglass targets for hunters to use as practice. These targets were realistic looking animals. There was a turkey, a deer, a bear, a bison and then the object of this horse’s meltdown. It was a fiberglass Tyrannosaurus Rex about ten feet tall.

Now I can’t tell you why there would be a fiberglass T-Rex in a park chock full of people riding horses. As far as I know this park didn't contain "Jurassic" it its name and I’m thinking not too many T-Rex hunting licenses are issued by the state. Plus, if there were T-Rex roaming around, odds are I wouldn’t be trail riding there anyways.

But I figured what the hell, training opportunity being what it is, let me try. With reassuring coaxing and my horse fresh off his happy Weimaraner pistol experience I was successful getting him to stand next to the T-Rex. Not bad for a jerky racehorse!

With my being able to accomplish this, the other horse also settled. We continued on our separate ways and I figured we’d done enough on our “relaxing” trail ride.

On the way home we came across a creek that was about six inches wide. Wouldn’t you know it was THAT the ended up being the tough thing to do?!

Okay, so hunters, firing pistols, Weimaraners and T-Rex’s are okay. The six inch wide stream was to prove the tricky thing, a true panic situation.

It's so much easier riding circles in the ring.

Not in the mood to start a fight I simply turned and backed him into the stream then spun him around and by the time he realized what I’d done we’d crossed that sucker. Brains over brawn.

I could feel him literally take a long, relieved sigh.

We arrived home and I sung him his praises and cared for him like he was a King. He liked it very much and we walked away with another great experience under our belt despite the best efforts of The Weimaraner, the pistol and the T-Rex.


Note:. I would be remiss if I didn't point out one more important thing. I did not start out taking a spooky horse out on trails to stand next to fiberglass T-Rex's.

I started out slowly, one step .... one baby step at a time. It began with trust while brushing. If you read my web page section titled "Tao of a Thoroughbred" you can see how the trust evolved. From that it evolved to trust riding with others out on the trail. When he'd be frightened of the dumpster that one day appeared on the property I had to caress him to approach it which I did with the promise of carrots in a plastic bag until he got to the point that he, on his own, touched that dumpster with his nose and sniffed it and he could then grab the carrots.

I consoled him constantly and eventually our partnership and his trust evolved into standing next to fiberglass T-Rex's on the trail.

In this too Shawna is right. Start small so you can achieve big.

 

 

 
    

I wish I had a good photoshop program, but this little scene just cracks me the hell up! Was I giving the finger to the T-Rex?

Let's see if I can suprise you!

Apologies for the fuzziness, but it's worth it! Enjoy!

I’ve always wanted an entourage. I’d watch in amazement as horse gurus, both local and famous, would always seem to have flocks of folks with them, listening to everything they said and blindly devoted to every word and thought, waiting in devotion for the next pearl of wisdom. In time the best devotees became handy, free labor for the guru.

With practice, a guru could get their devotees to do just about anything and some gurus in horses or other areas of life would often do their masters bidding without question no matter what was asked. Manson’s followers come to mind.

Devotees love fighting on behalf of their guru.

In the equestrian world gurus also attract such devotion as passionate as any religions. I remember once going to a horse expo and when I pulled into the parking lot there were a bunch of cars with writing all over them (high school football team style) espousing how much the occupants were in love with Gawani Pony Boy. It looked as if I’d pulled into the 1960’s parking lot of a Beatles concert, screaming swooning girls included.

It’s easy to know when young girls like something because there is high pitched screaming involved.

I cracked up laughing and begin to imagine myself pulling up in a car all marked up espousing Walter Zettl. Cute slogans written in soap with sentiments such as “Zettl Rocks!” or “Show Your Mettle With Walter Zettl”.

Give me a few glasses of wine and I can make up slogans for days.

If you could hear all the noise in my head now you’d be laughing your asses off with the scenarios my brain is coming up with. Oh look, here are some now....

Imagine pulling into a parking lot for a horse expo. Folks are barbequing by their cars a la football pre-game style. Some are wearing certain colored clothing a la the color scheme of their favorite guru complete with logos. Some have small TV’s playing their gurus best known video.

Nearby a teenage girl swoons and squeals “Oh I LOVE that video!”

A man walks by with a backpack moving from group to group trying to hawk Expo Tshirts for ten bucks apiece. Buy three for $25.00. He has an accent.

The Clint Anderson folks are tossing some shrimps on the bar-bee talking about how great his methods are. His methods seem a bit rough to me but his fans don’t see it. Instead they are huddled around talking about how all the non-fans are clueless.

The Parelli folks are huddled in a small circle. The circle used to be bigger, but some videos came out. One of the fans today has a carrot stick sticking out of a back pocket of her jeans poised up like some erect white tail. They are talking about the injustice of videos posted and how the rest of us non-fans are clueless.

Then there’s another group of fans of some cowboy who was mentored by that Dorrance guy. Good guy to have as mentor because no one really says chit about him and he’s widely respected. Now this new guy who studied with Dorrance has his own line of training videos and DVDs, all still new to the market. The fans talk about how clueless all the non-fans are and how ahead of the curve they are.

John Lyons fans are also huddled about quoting Bible and Lyons quotes. They are talking about the things they’ve learned from John (and Josh) and I’m surprised as most of it is stuff that would qualify as common knowledge that you learned in the beginning of your time with horses. Yet strangely lots of people still need to learn it. The fans talk about how clueless all the non-fans are then quote the Bible a lot.

There would have been a section for Jane Savoie fans, but they tend to be older and are too busy to be grilling in the parking lot. They’ve come in between dropping off one kid at soccer and picking up another one from cheerleading. Plus I really like Jane so its harder to poke harmless fun at her. But I guess in the interest of fairness I should try.

So now I’m listening to a video of hers as I write so that I can find a hole to poke with humor. Dammit, everything is dead on balls accurate. In this video she’s speaking of folks with terrible fear issues so I can’t pick on them either being they are already all freaked out. So here we are with Jane’s group of middle aged women pulling into the lot in their range rovers holding small lattee’s or coffees in my scenario, chatting with their children on their Blue tooths.

Anky’s group is absent because she isn’t coming to America and they’ve figured there is nothing they can learn from low life Anky neigh-sayers. They are however planning to attend some reinings so that they can watch her ride. And win again, strangely. When they do gather at the reining, they can talk about how clueless TWO groups of horse people are, both in reining and dressage.

Edward Gals entourage is in full force because he’s the new big guy on campus despite the fact that his horse of horses Totillas can’t do extensions anywhere near correct and has seemingly just about developed the pacey working walk. None of that matters to them as they are expecting him to score 99.9% on his next show appearance anyway. They lovingly stroke their show ribbons as they talk about how clueless everyone else is.

I’m with the Zettl folks and unlike the others I’m stuffing myself silly with a roast beast sandwhich while the others have salad. I cannot have salad because salad is not food. Salad is what food eats. This group is huddled about talking about how happy and relaxed their horses are. Out of fifteen of us, only one shows with any frequency. The word harmony is spoken often and we cast sidewards glances to the Gal group quietly calling them bitches and saying how mean and clueless they are.

Each group is devoted as they come and I marvel as to how the guru’s do it. And although I know I am the farthest thing from a guru myself (I’m more like a gnu that guru) I’ve seen the same kind of hero worship doted upon the local trainers in my area some of which are far, far from deserving, and I just don’t get it.

How do they do it?

It’s great to have a guru, but it’s better to have a mentor. And it’s best to keep aware and step back sometimes to evaluate what you’re hearing and seeing. Today’s guru just might end up being yesterday’s hack.

It’s tough I think to be a guru. Your smart followers will hang on every word and watch every deed and their judgment of these evolves on a daily basis. Or at least it should.

There’s a great responsibility when you’re a guru and I fear that most guru’s are destined for eventual failure. You see, they forget at what point to say “No”.

I received a comment in reply to my previous post "At What Point No?" and felt it necessary to post. It tells a fuller story of an elite athletes decision to say "No" as she was concerned for her horses welfare.

I cannot imagine how hard it would be for many of us, given the chance to ride in the Olympics, to just say "No". Kudos to Ms. Ikle for being able to.


"I don't know what criticism had to be endured (the team trainer resigned, don't know if it was in protest or what), but here's a report on why she withdrew from the Hong Kong Olympics:

The Swiss Equestrian Federation has withdrawn its dressage team from the 2008 Hong Kong Olympic Games following a statement by its top dressage rider, Silvia Iklé. Iklé announced that she will not take her 14-year-old gelding Salieri CH to the Games, nor would she allow her second horse, Romario, ridden by teammate Veronika Marthaler, to compete. Iklé cited the humidity, distance and time difference of Hong Kong as reasons not to take her horses.

In a press statement, Iklé said, “Participating in Hong Kong would place extraordinary stresses and strains, exertions I do not wish to impose upon my horses.”

After Iklé’s statement, the Swiss Equestrian Federation decided to withdraw the entire Swiss dressage team from the Games, pointing out that, without Iklé, the team would be weak.

Swiss team trainer Jurgen Koschel has resigned as a result of the Swiss Equestrian Federation’s actions."


I wish to thank Alli Farkas for the whole story!

As an equine blogger I, and a bunch of other people, spew on and on with all that “horses being a partner” stuff.

I would like to bring up for your consideration the next logical part to that way of thinking. And more importantly if that next step isn’t feasible or logical, consider that it just might all be a bunch of bull.

Any thinking person, open to shifting sands, must be willing to acknowledge that at certain points in their life, their logic shifts and their way of thinking changes.

So what methods or belief we held as truth twenty years ago is something we’d never do today. We’ve evolved. Think of all the dubious things you've done with a horse twenty years ago and say that you would do it ALL today. For most of us (myself included) the answser is an unequivocal NO.

So today we are far more attentive to and wanting to “listen to the horse”. We preach of being a partner in the equine dance between horse and rider, blah blah blah.

But now what? What next?

Okay, so now we ride the horse. We work him day in and day out, trying to perfect ourselves and in turn, perfect the horses way of going.

We practice rhythm and our timing of the aids and the application of them. We do everything we can short of lighting candles, putting on Asian mood music, and praying to any entity who will listen in order we the Ying to better ride Yang.

We achieve equine nirvana and we begin to show. We advance quickly at first, and we’re able to place well too. If we're lucky and we've spent enough time and money we start to show with the big boys.

Then one day things become a little harder. But we’re doing so well showing and we’re leading in points even if it's just a small lead. We find ourselves in the position that one bad show with low test scores can be the difference between Yes and No. We have become serious and competitive.

So we push. We look for shortcuts. With a world watching (except maybe some FEI stewards because they can’t do a damn thing about it anyway) we MAKE things happen as opposed to the loftier mantra of allowing things to EVOLVE.

We have become that which we once loathed, though often we do not see it.

And often there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve developed ourselves and our lives around showing and winning especially if we're a trainer. Winning gives us prestige and prestige gives us money. And we need that money. We have to pay the farm rent or mortgage, pay the sky high prices and fees of showing and be able to (in lieu of spending our own money) convince someone else to either buy a horse for us to ride or allow us to ride their horse and to pay us for riding their horse. And we have to keep them convinced because at any time that person can wave buh bye and move on to the person who is doing the winning if we aren’t.

Everything depends on winning. EVERYTHING.

Pressure mounts and so does the pressure we put upon our horses. Some of us try and cheat a little when the horse starts coming up sore because coming up sore is just something that happens when you MAKE it happen instead of allowing things to EVOLVE.

People start to notice and begin to say things. Then some of them get mad at you and begin to say things on the internet. Global conversations begin with you as the topic and you find yourself being blamed for the demise of dressage as we know it and in some circles, the holocaust too. We become the subject of videos and of conversations about said videos.

We step up and defend ourselves yelling for anyone to hear that will listen stating how much we love our horse and how much education we have. Of course we love our horses because we speak nicely to them and feed them carrots and bananas when we're not contorting them in bizarre, unrecognizable positions.

Our education with some of the top folks in the world has taught us that we are more knowing than others as to what the real deal is, what the realities of living in this world entails in the horse world. We give ourselves the excuses we need, we give those same excuses to the world and we speak of how much more we know than every one else.

We have become that which we once loathed.

It’s apparent to others that now we’ve lost our way. Somewhere, at some point, things went askew.

How do we keep that from happening?

Remember at the very beginning I asked what the next step was? Well this is the point in the equation of things that the question must be both asked and answered.

My answer: The horse must always be the driver. The horse must always lead the way.

Next question:

Given todays show environment, is it even possible for the horse to lead the way?

I think maybe no, it isn't possible all the time especially as we reach higher levels.

It is my belief that as soon as the showing becomes complicated and entwined as an integral part of life’s set up that at some point it is no longer possible for the horse to be the driver. When things develop to the Olympic or World levels its obvious that showing has become quite complicated and has become entwined as an integral part of our lifes set up. And then there's the money. Always the money. 

So I would ask, is there a point where the sport developed to preserve “training” has now become the very vehicle of its destruction?

At what point do we say “No”?

The answer is different to different people. I can afford to make my answer to completely listen to the horse and allow him to be the driver. I’m not currently showing or even driving towards some goal and time destination.

I have the luxury of my mantra being “I’ll do what evolves based up my frequency and intensity of rides and the horse wanting to and enjoying the training”.

Others are striving for some goal and that goal might be on a local, regional, national or global level.

The ones striving towards some goal are feeling the pressure. What will they do? What will we do?

In the end when we speak of being in harmony with our horses and of allowing the training to develop we can always talk the talk, but can we walk the walk?

As you know I have just become a published author. In celebration of this event I write the following as a tribute to those I must credit. Were it not for them being there for me, I probably would not have taken on such an endeavor.

 

 

Mentor is a small, big word. Only six letters long its size conceals the life altering effect having a mentor can have on someone’s life, whether it is within or outside of the horse world.

 

I’ve been lucky enough to have had three mentors. Two of those were teachers and the third rather like a second mother to me. All three contributed equally to the forming of who I was to become, both in and outside the horse world.

 

The first, a high school teacher, probably has no idea that I consider him a mentor. He was the first to appreciate my quirky creativity and who told me I had a talent for writing. He believed in me and encouraged me as no one else had previously done and because of his encouragement I began to feel like I had an actual talent for something other than horses.

 

He would often tell me I was brilliant in my creativity and to be honest, I kind of liked that! Plus that kind of unbridled freedom I felt because of his unabashed endorsements really empowered me to become even more creative. No matter the writing assignment he would offer I’d find a way to swing the topic to have some sort of equine relevance.

 

There is one equine related story which has stayed fresh in my mind even after all these years.

 

He had given me an assignment and although I don’t remember specifically what the topic was to be, I do remember he wanted a lot of descriptive words to be used. He wanted us to form pictures with our words.

 

I remember thinking “I can do that”.

 

So I wrote a story about my relationship with my horse and in one section it went something like this:

 

“In quiet times, when it was just my horse and I sharing life silently with one another, I’d often find myself just gazing  into his large, bright mahogany brown eyes. I’d relax with my face so close to his that his warm, sweet breath would gently caress the sensitive skin on my neck. I’d stare into those eyes for hours as he looked into the distance, and I wondered if he was seeing those things that were present now or perhaps remembering some distant time. Perhaps it was a memory of running with his mother and the other colts through lush fields of sweeping, fertile grass. Grass which colored so deeply green that in the amber hues of the setting sun would slowly fade to a deep and lavish blue. It was during one of these silent bonding moments that I spoke to him in velvet whisper, telling him of my love and admiration for him.

 

 

Then, he sneezed. Arrows of green snot shot at me as if suddenly released from a cannon, scattering like buckshot upon my white shirt. In an instant a lime green design boasted thinner in some spots, more robust in others.”

 

 

Suffice it to say he absolutely loved the piece. Loved it to the point as I had to stand up and read it to the whole class. As I read, I watched them get captured in the lofty moments of sunshine and teddy bears before I hit them with my arrows of green snot. Then, as the arrows struck their mark , I got to watch them become bewildered for a moment before the comprehension set in. Then of course I enjoyed the reaction with all it’s “ewwws” and “gross!” moans.

 

I was hooked. Look at the power I had to manipulate their little minds just with a flowery arrangement of some silly words. Yes, Mr. Ira Shatzman taught me that.

 

Not too long ago I googled his name and actually found him. We’ve spoken and I’ve told him how much he’s meant to me. It was his words which gave me the balls to start this. I also know he’s reading this now. How cool is that?

 

So, if I write anything stupid, you can just blame it on Mr. Shatzman…..

 

My next mentor was the mother of one of my equestrian friends. She too always supported me and in the horse world she had my back and would go to bat for me when I wanted to get involved in different areas in the horse world, whether it be showing or being active in equestrian or civic groups.

 

She taught me about people and their behaviors and how to fight long and hard for those things you believe in and she led by her own example. She would routinely fight stupidity with intelligence and her motives proved pure and noble.

 

She always spoke highly of me, both to me and to others. She actually believed I was a person worth knowing and she would scream it from the rooftops on my behalf were it needed.

 

Unfortunately she passed way too soon and way too young. I knew at the time of her passing that she meant the world to me but it wasn’t until afterward that I realized how truly significant her presence in my life had been. It wasn’t until real world struggles were made easier by the skills I’d acquired with her in the horse world that I fully realized the huge impact she’d made on my life.

 

See, that’s the thing with mentors; Often you don’t realize they are your mentor until they are gone.

 

My third mentor is solidly entrenched in the horse world as an internationally recognized dressage Master and if you’ve read my many blogs regarding him you know of whom I am speaking. A reading of those blogs makes it apparent why I would choose him. Besides, who better than to be a mentor than Walter A. Zettl. I can think of no better person.

 

I can only hope that each of you reading has your own mentor and that they are deserving of your trust and adoration.

 

Choose wisely.

 

 

Soon the great American summer holiday known as the 4th of July will be with us. This holiday, also named Independence Day, marks the day in history when the colonial representatives of the original 13 colonies signed the great document The Declaration of Independence pronouncing American independence from Britain and tyranny.


This holiday remains one of my favorites of the year, second only to Christmas. In addition to the wonderful Independence Day ceremonies, fireworks, national pride and the flying of flags, other traditions have evolved such as the great American art named “The Barbeque”.

So, in honor of this holiday I bring you this Revolutionary War tune tweeked in a DressageForTheRestOfUs kind of way. I would add that in the days of yesteryear, the term Yankee Doodle was meant as an unkind term often meaning “fool” and it’s in that context that I use it. It is not meant to refer to Americans, but rather to the folks I perceive to be riding “fools” riding in forced, held, manipulated, unnatural, unhealthy frames.

It’s meant to be sung to the familiar tune of “Yankee Doodle Dandy”

Yankee doodle rode dressage
On a giant pony
Shoved two bits in its mouth
And made its carriage phony

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

The show I saw was FEI
The riding very vexing
Horses staring at the ground
They called it hyperflexing

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I watched a team from overseas
They did a lot of winning
They rode with force and shortened necks
They did not see their sinning

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

So I asked the judge why high they scored
Short necks and phony frames
He look surprised in his eyes
And said it was their fame

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Then I heard a woman say
I’m just a stupid ammie
An amateur is too unsure
She really tried to slam me

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I turned to her and I did say
Just see the horse’s eyes
Every time you ride that way
His soul just mourns and dies

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Next to me there was this man
Who seemed quite in the know
He said I’m right with my eyesight
A Master known as Nu-no

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

The friend with him was very grim
He muttered like a whiner
What he saw just dropped his jaw
This Kleimke they called Reiner

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

And with them was another man
A Master worth his mettle
Exercises he did train
His name is Walter Zettl

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Then rode by a Ma-no-lo
Upon an Andulusian
Light and lofty he rode well
Classic’s not illusion

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Masters smiled as they did watch
A rider worth his salt
His horse went well they all could tell
And his horse could halt

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

I wish I could go back and time
See Masters in a ride-off
All the ones who taught so well
And the man von Neindorff

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

Now its time to train my horse
I have to find a trainer
Wanted one who did things right
Its really a no brainer

Yankee doodle did it rough
Yankee not so dandy
Mind the music and the kur
Don’t ride so very “hand-ee”

If I could wish a riders wish
I’d have them all to teach me
Happy horse result of course
Me so glad I’d peepee

Yankee doodle not so rough
Yankee not forced framed
Ride it right it’s out of sight
Plus the horse ain't lamed

 

Since the beginning of time those humans who have shared their lives with horses have come to believe that horses, like people, have a soul. Proof of this is evident by all the writings, songs and poems speaking in regard to the horse, their spirits and their souls.

 

But what exactly does it mean to have a soul?

 

A quick peak at dictionary.com offers these definitions and I’ve highlighted in red those definitions applicable to horses, apart from the “must be a human to have a soul” component.

 

soul

   /soʊl/ Show Spelled[sohl]

–noun

1.

the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans, regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, and commonly held to be separable in existence from the body; the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part.

2.

the spiritual part of humans regarded in its moral aspect, or as believed to survive death and be subject to happiness or misery in a life to come: arguing the immortality of the soul.

3.

the disembodied spirit of a deceased person: He feared the soul of the deceased would haunt him.

4.

the emotional part of human nature; the seat of the feelings or sentiments.

5.

a human being; person.

6.

high-mindedness; noble warmth of feeling, spirit or courage, etc.

7.

the animating principle; the essential element or part of something.

8.

the inspirer or moving spirit of some action, movement, etc.

9.

the embodiment of some quality: He was the very soul of tact.

10.

( initial capital letter ) Christian Science . God; the divine source of all identity and individuality.

11.

shared ethnic awareness and pride among black people, esp. black Americans.

 

12. deeply felt emotion, as conveyed or expressed by a performer or artist.

13.

soul music.

–adjective

14.

of, characteristic of, or for black Americans or their culture: soul newspapers.

Origin:
bef. 900; ME; OE sāwl, sāwol;  c. D ziel,  G Seele,  ON sāl,  Goth saiwala

 

 

According to that definition, a definition which is human specific, it would seem that there is not a worldwide consensus that horses do in fact have a soul, yet to us it seems blatantly obvious that they do.

 

I have no doubt that most of horsemen along with millions of people worldwide believe that horses (and most animals) do in fact have a soul.

 

But do we treat our horses in accordance with this belief?

 

For way too long horses have been forced to perform our whims for us and often to their own detriment. Throughout history millions of horses have met an unfortunate end doing all those crazy things we’ve told them to do, like charging into battle.

 

Amazingly enough horses did it and still do our bidding. Some things they do because they want to please us. Sometimes they comply because they are forced to do so under threat of pain or the presence of actual pain. Shame on us when such is the case.

 

So we as horsemen find ourselves in a position to either believe horses have a soul, or that they do not and then to act in accordance with our beliefs.

 

If you don’t believe horses have a soul then there’s very little I can say to change your blind mind. If you haven’t seen that presence in a horse’s eye or how they interact with you then you are pretty much a lost cause and beyond any reasoning I can offer. You might as well stop reading now. Go play in traffic with explosives or something.

 

But if you DO believe that horses have a soul then I ask that you stop and think about what that really means.

 

Any being with a soul has a sense of self-awareness, feelings and emotions. There will be a response to kindness as well as a response to pain. As horsemen we like to pride ourselves on being kind and effective riders, but are we really?

 

When a rider hasn’t fully developed their seat and rides off balance or bounces unmercifully upon a horse’s back we can easily cause pain. If the horse reacts negatively to that pain we often subject it to punishment and even more pain and discomfort. Often, our bad riding leads to lameness or other soreness issues to the horse. In these situations we have failed to be kind and effective riders.

 

Humans also have a tendency to become rough in their training and we have become so blind to it, so complacent that we don’t even SEE the abuse. Case in point is a natural horsemanship trainer that I’ve seen on TV, one who routinely jerks the living crap out of the horses he handles and watching it makes me wince. Yet someone must think he’s good because he has his own TV show!

 

It could also be argued that there are varying levels ranging from dampening of the spirit to discomfort to pain to out and out abuse.

 

When a rider uses rough training tactics or equipment which is ill fitting, uncomfortable or is used as a weapon against the horse (like a bit) we are again failing to be kind and effective riders.

 

When a rider hasn’t obtained the skill to use exercises to achieve wanted goals and resorts to force it is likewise wrong.

 

When a rider uses force (like the type of riding seen in fixed hand rolkur/hyperflexion positions) in order to achieve goals quickly it is again wrong. The crying shame is that organizations such as the FEI no longer view prolonged discomfort or damage of the spirit or soul as inhumane. The FEI, by its latest proclamations has decided that the definition of undesirable riding is ONLY through the use of aggressive force. Discomfort and passive approaches to causing pain is just fine by them.

 

To my mind, this is akin to saying that among humans abuse can only be in a physical form and not in a mental or emotional form. Yet we all know that mental or emotional abuse is just as taxing upon the spirit and health of the individual as physical abuse. Yet for some reason we fail to see that comparison when it comes to horses.

 

That sucks.

 

So what are we to do to honor our horses, respect their souls and yet get the job done? How do we keep our goal oriented selves from getting greedy and rushing training or causing pain or discomfort in order to achieve them?

 

We need to learn technique and to work as hard as we can to perfect our balance, timing and skills. Then we must be patient and never, ever greedy.

 

This is challenging for us humans because humans do greed very well. Olympic equestrian tradition seems to have moved from the art of the ride to the want of the win and that’s greed.

 

I think that sucks too.

 

However, the first part of changing something is being aware that it needs to be changed and we’re at a point where many of us have come to that awareness.

 

It is likewise as disheartening to our humanly fragile egos to acknowledge that although we’ve owned horses for twenty years that we still do not know enough and we still cannot ride well enough to keep from causing the horse pain and discomfort. It’s hard to admit that when we push the horse to go in a zillion classes at a zillion horse shows that it just might be pushing the horse to its breaking point – and I do mean BREAKING.

 

Sorry to say as a horseman I do not have all the answers and probably never will. I, like the rest of us, do my best to keep my horse’s work pleasant yet effective. I try my best to educate myself and to ride to the limit, but never ever over.

 

In my own riding this currently equates to my getting my horse to use his back end enough to lift his front end even more than he already has. It’s a slow process but a necessary one. Constantly I have to go back to scratch and if I haven’t been able to ride as consistently as I want to I’ll come across those rides where I must have the self-discipline not to be greedy for more. Sometimes, less IS more.

 

It’s hard not to get carried away sometimes especially following a good ride. We seem eager to try and force a duplication of the wonderful ride, but that never works.

 

So I ask that the next time you ride you consider the horse’s soul in all that you do. Just because a horse can be replaced doesn’t mean that soul is replaceable - EVER.

 

If your horse is the type to try his heart out it would be simply criminal to take advantage of that, and soon you’ll run out of heart. When that happens a horse loses much of his magnificence.

 

For me adherence to this code means patiently doing my exercises, taking things as they come – as they are offered. I constantly try to add to my knowledge and expertise and I’ve learned that when I do things correctly my horse is very likely to also do things correctly.

 

I’ve had a lot of fun on my rides and I see the constant progress and am grateful for them. I may run out of time or ability (in either me or the horse or both) to get him to FEI levels, but with what is getting rewarded in FEI competition I’m pretty alright with that.

Especially when I consider his emotion, his soul and how precious and fragile it can be, just like ours. I’d rather be a good lower level partner that a shitty higher level source of pain and irritation who gets to wear a top hat so I can feel good about myself.

 

If there is an afterlife and souls can join there it would be thing of dreams. I imagine my horse and I in piaffe and passage, the two of us moving as if one, lasting for eternity.

 

Yes, this thought has made me smile. I want that.

Throughout my life, giving a horse a bath wasn’t really that complicated. It basically required bringing a horse to a water source, turning on the water and then bathing it. Sometimes you use shampoo, but most often I don’t as I think it dulls the coat and I’ve always been known for having shiny horses.

All my life with horses the hose would spit out one thing: cold water. The only exception was if the hose had been laying in the sun in the summer and then it would come out hot for a minute or two then eventually run cold again..

Then I got this horse, this sensitive Thoroughbred. He never stood still for baths and now I’ve discovered the reason. He hates cold water baths! Even when it’s two thousand degrees outside and you’d think a cold bath would be a welcome thing, it wasn’t.

Now I am at a new barn and this barn has both hot and cold running water. Mr. Sensitive is now in his glory. Bathing Mr. Sensitive Thoroughbred has now evolved into an art form. In some ways it has expanded my understanding of my partner, my horse, and how truly sensitive he is. On the other hand, it’s a little bit annoying.

Stoic is not a word I would ever apply to my horse. He lets you know from the very moment you are near him that he wants to communicate and he makes every effort to. When a human isn’t smart enough to “get it” he gets annoyed. When a human reacts with violence he simply gets pissed.

Now in the summer every day is another bathing opportunity. Sometimes baths come prior to work, sometimes afterwards, sometimes instead of.

With last weekend so hot and ridiculously humid, the bath without riding was the best option for us. We’re not in training for anything so there was no harm in missing a ride and even if there was something to prepare for I probably wouldn’t have worked him, opting instead for an early morning ride the next day.

Now remember, more than anything, Mr. Sensitive loathes cold water. No matter how hot it is he just does not want that cold water hitting his skin. If you were to use it on him you would see his entire belly just suck up into his back, and he does his pissed off dance.

So here I am last weekend and I can tell my horse is looking forward to a bath as he walked quite energetically to the wash stall and backed himself in like a well driven tractor trailer.

I clipped him to the crossties and then began to run the water, my own hand testing the temperature. Throughout the bath my hand retests the water constantly (several times a minute) to make sure there isn’t some sudden temp change which also tends to annoy my horse.

He’s special, isn’t he?

I often wonder if aliens were watching us from space which creature they would think was master, and which is slave. I’m sure you’re familiar with that feeling! Of course we're both more like partners, but I'm just sayin'.....

Slowly I made my way along his body starting with the legs, then shoulder and neck and then the butt. The last part of the body is the back and stomach and after that I move to the other side starting the whole process again. Once he’s good and wet I take my fingernails and give him a nice gentle scratch on his neck, under his mane and all over his various itchy spots which I’ve come to know.

He stretched his neck out and made that cute lip pursing until he wanted me to move on, Then he shifted a step and I knew it was time to move on to the next itchy spot. This went on for both sides of the body and eventually that was done. He ended up with a lengthy scratchy massage. I ended up with ick nails. No matter how clean the horse, if you scratch them with your nail black crud will always be embedded under the nail. There apparently is no such thing as light colored horse crud.

After that I hosed the whole body off again for awhile, switching from side to side, letting the gentle shower of the hose remove any other dirt bits from his skin. I knew they were there, I could tell from my nails.

I should mention that I’m only allowed to set the hose nozzle to “shower”. Mr. Sensitive doesn’t like it any other way.

Eventually the bath was over and I realized that for him it was more a spa treatment than a bath. He was happy and energetically walked backed to his stall, grabbed a bite of hay, demanded some more treats and not so patiently awaited the arrival of his afternoon grain.

With all that done he settled in to contently munch his hay.

I watched him and giggled to myself as I could never imagine Mr. Sensitive running in the wild. Yes, I do believe he likes his life just the way it is, even being able to teach his human to change a bath from just a bath into a carefully orchestrated art form.

Bastard.

I’m happy to be back! Please excuse my short respite from blogging as I was trying to develop the next generation of my blog – DressageForTheRestOfUs 2.0 as it were. It’s still not done, but I didn’t want to stay away any longer. I’ll just have to add more piece by piece.

 

An experience over the weekend has provided the fodder for this next essay. I hope you enjoy it and can identify with at least part of the experience.

 

We are all very busy people, especially us amateurs trying to juggle a multitude of things in one day. In the winter it’s often easier in one respect: It’s a lot less complicated stopping to do an errand after the barn. You tend not to be as icky. But in the summer, it can be most problematic and embarrassing at best.

 

I don’t know about you, but I won’t shower before going to the barn. There just doesn’t seem to be a point to it all since you have to fling yourself into the shower when you get home anyway. So last weekend I spent the morning doing gardening chores in the heat then returned to the air conditioning to cool down and have some lunch.

 

Afterwards I pulled on breeches and barn clothes and jumped into the car. On the way to the barn I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for a gigantic coffee and uncharacteristically decided to get a jelly donut as well. Since it had been so long since I’d had a donut I figured I deserved that jelly donut.

 

I knew my day’s agenda called for three things for me to do: go to barn, stop at feed store for animal food and then stop at a grocery store to pick up a few goodies to go along with dinner.

 

I got to the barn in the afternoon and it was hot, too hot to really work the horse in the sticky indoor given the high humidity. I decided since it was so hot and humid to take my horse instead for a “relaxing” walk around the farm. I figured it would take about ½ hour to walk around and this way my horse wouldn’t be all hot, sweaty and hard to cool down before he ate his afternoon meal.

 

It seemed the perfect plan. Really, it did.

 

When I got to the barn I took my horse from his stall and began to brush him. I noticed that despite the heat my horse was a bit antsy. Normally in that situation I’d work him in the indoor first but I decided to just suck it up, plop a crash helmet on and just go for a farm perimeter trail ride and see what happens. Either I’d live or I’d die but since I’ve never managed to die before I figured the odds were in my favor of living. I believed I could trust him enough and I figured I had to respect my own skills for keeping him focused as well.

 

My horse seemed very eager to start his ride so I figured if he was eager to please then maybe he’d be “eager to listen” too.

 

From the moment I swung a leg over his back he was ready for the races. Ready to spook at any given thing…. That bird maybe. Or that tree. Perhaps that tall evil looking weed would be his undoing. He was so incredibly stoked a funny looking cloud in the sky would have spooked him.

 

I decided to give him stuff to think about rather than him IMAGINING stuff to think about and I began working him in a level area and started immediately doing shoulder in to haunches in, mini half passes and walk/trot/walk transitions. Every minute or so his head would swing up as he’d look into the distance making sure Godzilla wasn’t approaching. He’d swing his head this way to look for Godzilla every two minutes or so.

 

I began to sing his little song and walked him on in a long, ground covering walk. I had to ride every step forward, always going forward. He began to swing his neck and bob his head to the rhythm of my off tune song.

 

He apparently appreciates my crappy voice. Lord knows no one else does.

 

I then mixed in more walk/trot/walk transitions seeing how light we could be. The transitions also helped unlock his jaw which would become like concrete every time he would perk up his head to look into the distance. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as sensitive as he normally is, and needed heavier aids, but after a while I was able to lighten them up significantly. You would think that him being so “amped” he’d be more sensitive, but as it turns out the opposite was true.

 

At that point I rode off to the perimeter trail, praying no deer was planning on popping into or across our path. Sudden deer appearances would probably not go over too well especially given the path was only about ten feet wide and once side sported electrified fencing.

 

I then found myself quickly wondering what would transpire if I were to fall into the electrified fence and one part of my body, say a leg, would go into a water trough. Would it sound the same way as a mosquito hitting a bug zapper? Would the barn end up smelling like BBQ me?

 

He spooked once, and it was one of those spooks that happen in place. Excellent! I’m glad he no longer does that spin and spook he was so fond of when I first got him ten years ago.

 

I continued to ride every step, my body moving with his in order to proactively make my desired destiny of the ride being uneventful. This began me thinking that surely every stride is a decision. Every stride necessitates a conversation with the horse.

 

The conversation begins with you feeling each stride, listening to the joining of your bodies. For each stride the conversation is “Feel, decide, act”. You ‘feel’ where the horse is at body and mind wise, deciding if it’s desirable and if correction is required. If correction is required then you must act correctly to change the undesirable to desirable. If all is well you do nothing until the next stride where the process begins all over again.

 

It’s such a delicate thing this conversation that there isn’t time to think really, just feel. Familiarity with equitation and with your horse should make it possible for your reaction to occur in a nanosecond just like an ingrained physical response like swatting at a biting mosquito.

 

Famed English eventer Lucinda Green calls it “A constant nuturing of the marriage between horse and rider”.  I like that description.

 

The rest of the ride he was real “looky” but never took a wrong step. His black tipped ears were very active, listening to me as I rambled on talking to him. “Come along you big bum, just walk, you know you’re okay. Good boy, C’mon you big ole bum, you big ole jerk.”

 

What you say isn’t as important as how you say it.

 

Such conversation continued and when I returned him to the barn he was only the slightest bit warm and I was able to give him a nice shower, beginning with warm water and slowly graduating to cooler water, but never cold. He hates cold water.

 

Well, by the end of all this my horse was cool and clean but I was a hot, tired, dirty, smelly, sweaty mess and I still had two stops to make! This walking stuff was murder! Thank goodness I was wearing breeches because at least when smelly me entered a store people would see the breeches and at least know why I am so smelly.

 

On the way to my first stop, the feed store, I began to eat the jelly donut I’d bought as a little treat hours before but hadn’t yet eaten. Since it had been months since I’ve last eaten any donut I was looking forward to the treat. Well as I was happily munching, a big glob of purple jelly fell, landing with a purple splat right in the middle of my chest. Almost looked like a shot gun blast. The splat was about three inches across. I tried to wipe it off, but apparently there is no way to remove a three inch jelly donut splat from your light colored riding shirt.

 

So now I’m smelly and jelly stained in a very big way.

 

I went to the feed store and thankfully it was empty. Quick as I could I made my purchases and left.

 

Next was the grocery store. That too was empty and I rushed my purchases. The lady behind the counter was familiar with me, but couldn’t help giving my appearance the once-over.

 

I felt so very pretty…. Not! I almost felt obligated to explain my appearance to her, but I couldn’t think of way to do that without making things sound worse.

 

I drove home and literally dove into the shower, embarrassed but none the worse for wear. As I showered I thought of how many dirty, sweaty horsemen were at this very moment experiencing this very same thing, no matter where they are in the world.

 

Later on in the day I spoke of my dirty, smelly day to a friend over the phone. She told me that perhaps this one our way of connecting with our ‘primitive’ selves. I said “Nah, let’s face it……. We all just stink”. There is no redemption from the stink other than the fact that the dirtier we are, the cleaner and fresher our horses are.

 

Horse dirt is universal isn’t it?!