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?!

 

 

Dressage tests are a pain in the rear to learn.

 

The good part of being a lower level rider is that the lower level tests probably won’t cause you to fling yourself out the nearest window. But the higher you go up the levels, the harder the tests become not only to ride well but to remember the sequence of the movements.

 

Adding to this is the fact that usually a rider is going in more than one test. I’ve heard of pros (maybe Lendon Gray?) that have the innate ability to know all the tests of all the levels just off the top of their head.

 

My memory could never handle that load. I have a hard enough time with the lower level tests. I tend to ride in one or two tests at a show and I have to refresh my memory for weeks ahead of time. I’ve come up with a way to “test” my test.

 

I do it driving. I have found if you can repeat your test out loud, without hesitation, while you drive, then you KNOW the test.

 

If you end up plummeting into a ravine, it is an indication that you do not adequately know your test. You need to go back and review your test some more.

 

My reasoning is this: when you ride your test you constantly have to tweak things. Some of those things are quite unexpected, such as a spook. You can also become unraveled by a judge’s whistle or gong and that tends to fluff up the nerves for many an amateur.

 

The other part of the skill of test memorization is remembering where all those silly letters are in the ring. I know many who use an acronym. There is a popular one which I would tell you if I could, but I can’t because I can never remember it. It is not unique to me. It has something to do with eating nine pies. Oh wait, that’s remembering the planets of our solar system. Maybe it’s the one with king’s horses or something. So I have come up with my own system which doesn’t make sense to anyone but me but it’s the one I can remember. I’ll try to explain it.

 

Let’s take a training level test for example. For training level you are often riding in a 40 meter long ring with two long sides and two short sides. The letters in the middle of the short sides are A and C. Air conditioning and Atlantic City come to mind. You enter at A, so by default C is on the non entering side. Okay got it.

 

Going on the first long side you have M, B, F. M is next to C because when I was younger I worked in a stock brokerage firm who had a fund called Cash Management. So C is next to M. M-B-F becomes my unusual take on a often used sequence of curse words, the first word being Mother and the second Bastard. You can fill in the F on your own.

 

The other side is K-E-H. At that same brokerage firm my boss (a nice lady) was named Eileen Hatcher. So to me K-E-H became Kill Eileen Hatcher, even though I never actually wanted to kill her or anybody.

 

H is next to C and I remember that because I knew a quarter horse guy whose name was H.C. and then the last name. After years of knowing him I found out the H.C. stood for Horatio Cornelius and I then understood why he went by H.C.

 

H is across from M like in the word HiM.

 

K is across from F like in the term Kitchen Freezer.

 

So as you can see, my acronym system is quite unique to me.

 

So if you should see me driving down the road before entering a dressage show, watch out. You have been warned.

 

If I’m all over the road it’s because inside the car I’m doing a pattern and muttering to myself “Kill Eileen Hatcher – Kitchen Freezer – Mother Bastard F***** - Cash Management” and then I just might drive into a tree.

 

Thankfully although driving without a hands free phone is illegal in many states as is texting, trying to remember your dressage test while driving is still perfectly legal. At least until Oprah gets wind of it, then there will be a campaign to stop "Driving while dressaging".

 

Or at least until enough of us drive into a ditch.

I received a comment from a reader called Katerina who asked me the following;

"Can you please write a bit more about how did you use the energy to move him and what did you mean by this ? I've hear about something like that from Nino Oliviera like ridding your horse with your mind only but haven't been able to find info on it."

Well Katerina that's a great question and as such I decided to post it here so more folks can see it. So let me give it a shot! This is how I, an amateur, interpret it.

In the beginning my horse didn't want to react to my leg. So much so that I'd put on a pair of spurs. This led to a terrible habit of lifting my heels to get forward and brought me totally out of proper alignment. You might consider it a quick fix, but it was not a good start to a solid riding foundation. Plus it would rub the hair in that area and make it all scruffly looking.

I began riding with an instructor whom I found going to the Zettl clinics. The first thing she wisely did was rip the spurs off of me. They haven't been back since. She then had the hard task of re-educating my muscle memory to use my leg and my seat to send my horse forward without the habit of lifting the heels. It took literally years. (Another thing that makes me feel stupid!)

Both she and Herr Zettl made me do thousands of exercises utilizing transitions. These came in a few forms, some of which I've described on previous postings. If my horse did not react to a forward cue of my leg I had to learn how to back it up. The term my instructor used was "whisper - shout - whisper". It works like this: You give the leg aid to go forward. Horse doesn't respond at all or doesn't respond the degree you want him to. You tap with the whip. He goes forward. You give leg again, he should go forward. If not, or not to the degree you wish you tap again. Sometimes one tap isn't sufficient. Then it's tap tap tap or whatever is required.

When it comes to the tapping of the whip it is as light as you can be and still get the job done. You start with the softest of taps that you can.

My horse is one that tapping on the butt might be buck inducing. For this issue Herr Zettl told me it was alright to tap on the shoulder to avoid the buck.

Okay, so that's the basic part.

Now you go out on the rail. You are riding a nice forward walk. You squeeze just a little for trot and it should be there. Herr Zettl would always tell me "When you ask for trot it must be there". You don't ride the trot with a few small weak steps and then warm up to a better trot from there. The trot must be there and affirmative from the first step.

Now you're trotting and you sit, using your seat and legs to bring the horse forward back down into a walk. I know that sounds counterintuitive but hey, that's just a nuance of dressage. You ride him forward into the walk. That means not taking rein. You are slowing your body but still giving the leg, and room to go forward with the hand. Not throwing the contact away, but just giving a teenie tiny little bit.

You then begin walk trot transitions. You may have to use stronger aids in the beginning, but after a few minutes of this the horses really do catch on and the aids will get lighter and lighter. My instructor would have me do an exercise called 10 - 4.

Ten steps of walk then four strides of trot. You had to pay attention because in the beginning, you might have to cue for the trot during step 7 of the walk in order to nail the trot transition precisely after step ten of the walk. As you do a bunch of transitions you might have to change your cueing to step 8 of the walk. Then step 9.

You must ride so that you do PRECISELY ten steps of walk, four of trot - no more, and no less. The same holds true in the downward transition (which again you are moving forward to the downward transition by stilling your seat, but giving room to go forward a teenie tiny bit with the hand and a forward cue with your legs.)

If you try this exercise for twenty minutes you will be mentally exhausted. It is so incredibly hard for a rider to keep the attention span for that long, especially if others are in the ring riding with you. At my best I can do thirty minutes, and by then I just don't want to ride dressage any more LOL.

As you progress from minute one to minute ten to minute fifteen you will note how responsive your horse will get. You then up the challenge by seeing how subtle your cues can be to still be effective.

With enough correct practice you can get to a point that all you have to do is think it. When you "think" it, there are teenie tiny reactions in your muscles that your horse picks up on and will react to. It's all a matter of getting him to realize that reacting to that teenie tiny muscle movement is the reaction you want from him.

In addition to 10-4 there are other exercises. Herr Zettl would also have me do a lot of these as well. I walk my horse and then cue for trot, and the very second he moves forward for trot I cue for walk again.

We'd also do changes within the gait. I'd ride a working trot and then would shorten my steps, then go longer, then shorter..... longer..... shorter. It was desirable to keep the tempo and rhythm. See how long you can do this one too.

The same can be true for work at canter doing canter/trot/canter transitions or canter lengthenings and shortenings.

Canter/walk transitions are my favorites. On a truly happy note, they are also the way you begin to train the changes.

Once I understood this progression of lessening of the aids I realized I had actually known it all along.

That's exactly what you do in western riding classes where you use a long rein with little or no contact. When I rode western, my old quarter horse was so broke to death that all I had to do was 'think" it and he'd do it. My current horse is not broke to death but if I keep on learning and moving forward myself, we'll get there.

I hope I've answered your question to your satisfaction. If not, please let me know.

Chow!

What a wonderful Saturday today was. I had no set schedule, and took a leisurely trip down to the barn for a ride. I haven't been riding much at all, but with this three day weekend and some new juice in my enthusiasm I figured it was a good day to start my training regimen for this season.

I should have started earlier, but home chores kept me from riding in earnest. But now the grass is growing well and is mowed, the vegetables planted, the plants fertilized. Everything is fresh and clean so now there will be more time for riding.

My horse seemed pleased to see me and gave me that familiar and adorable nicker in greeting. I opened the stall door, gave him some much wanted baby talk and scratched that special place on his crest. I slipped on the halter and he happily clip clopped to the cross ties.

He stood like a gentlemen so he got a treat. I then began the three step process of brushing him. He was dusty for sure, and some hairs on his loins still seemed to be shedding. He had a mud spot near his poll on one side, and one gaskin was muddy too. I took out my small round rubber curry and lightly began to do soft circles around his body, paying special attention to the itchy spots like under his mane. I focused the brushing as a masseuse would pay attention during a massage, watching his reaction to what I was doing and if he liked it or not. If he seemed to like the brushing in one spot I'd linger, until his body language told me to move on.

After the once over with that brush, and because he stood like a gentleman and didn't lift a leg, he got a treat. Next, I went to a mitt which has sheepskin on one side and cactus cloth on the other. Starting with his poll, I gave him the once over with the cactus cloth side. I could see that he was starting to shine.

When I needed him to move over I practiced using my energy to do it. He did well. He remembered.

Again, a treat for he'd stood just as good as for the first round of brushing. Now the third round, the softest bristle brush you can imagine. I brushed him methodically, a flick of the wrist propelling the dust into the air and off his coat. When I was done, he was deliciously shiny. I stepped back and admired him. Such a handsome boy!

Other than his bit of a Budha belly his muscling didn't look too bad. He kind of looked butch and I was happy with that.

I finished up the rest of the grooming, though I did have to walk away once when he lifted his leg to me after the brushing hit a tickley spot on his belly. After a few minutes I came back, and his Thoroughbred brain was so starved for attention that he once more stood like a champion. When I was done, he got a treat and my wonderous praise.

He likes that kind of babbling praise a lot. He gets this "I'm adorable!" look on his face which I find terribly endearing.

I tacked him up and could tell he really wanted to get a move on it. He was anxious to be off the crossties, anxious to work.

I put on my helmet.

We stepped into the indoor and I clumsily climbed the mounting block, swung a leg over and got on. He then almost scooted off in a most energetic walk. I know this walk. It's "spooky walk". It's the walk he does when he is looking for an excuse to be silly and to get frightened from silly things like the dirt.

The indoor had jumps strewn about. The rails were all down but not neatly piled, more like someone tossed a bunch of toothpicks around that fell randomly about.

I needed to focus him, I could feel him building energy inside. I began to walk him over the rails as if I was doing a pattern. I tried as little as possible not to use my hands but rather my seat, weight and legs. Some of the turns to get from one rail to another were extreme, others not so hard. I took him back and forth over them at the walk, each time using the reins less and less. By the time I'd finished the sixth set of varying patterns his focus was mine.

I then started my work, walking circles, shoulder fore, baby half passes for a couple of steps, A lot of changes in the walk from long steps to more collected steps.. More should fore, haunches in, square halts; we took our time and I tried to concentrate on riding the back end, imagining lifting the forehand and being light on the bit, my body finding his and moving together. I worked hard on not getting in the way. Nice and quiet and relaxed. Good.

I was very pleased with our work. Way more than I had expected. I was proud of him and I let him know it. He liked that!

I then moved up to trot and he was very forward and willing. I kept him in a longer frame which pleased his demeanor. Lots of changes within the trot and a ton of trot walk trainsitions. He was nice off my leg and other than the occasional locked jaw he was great! And even the jaw thing softened with just a little attention from me with my leg.

I however, caught myself looking down for the diagonal and I made this loud grunting noise in disgust. Hadn't I just written about how hard I worked to get passed this habit?! So I sat some trot, then lifted by feel. Wrong diagonal. That's right, I have to wait until it feels right, then wait one, then rise.

I tried it again and nailed it. Good. I worked on it for the rest of the ride going in and out of transitions.

By the end of the trot work he was started to get that semi floating feeling. I worked a few minutes in that state then called it quits, even though we hadn't cantered. The canter is the gait where he's most likely to fall on the front so rather than fight it I opted to just wait until tomorrow. Get that little bit more so he can balance himself better. Gymnasticize him just a bit more tomorrow and we'll be fine.
 
This was a good start. I am pleased.

This is a silly light fluffy piece. I was inspired from two sources. First, by the very excellent web site called "The Carrot" where they wrote of Rolkur Barbie.

I highly recommend this site for a good laugh, and a hefty helping of sarcasm and wit! I love this site:

http://horseslovecarrotsandbute.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html

The second source is a friend with whom I was speaking recently. She was telling me the story of someone she sees at shows, and has nicknamed her Horse Show Barbie.

I hope you enjoy my version of Horse Show Barbie!

 

 

We all know a Horse Show Barbie. They have lots of help, are always impeccably dressed and coiffed. Their bodies are apparently a naturally occurring dirt repellant and they win all their classes.

I am not a horse show Barbie. Dirt clings to me and the arena tends to migrate from the area surrounded by fences to straight up my nose. There it forms little brown clot colonies.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I never do get around to slathering a layer of make up on my face so that I’m model perfect before a class. I do bring it to each and every show, yet it never does get to go on my face. There just never seems the time.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I quickly become a dust magnet after sweating so that I resemble more a crispy cutlet. Add a sunny day and some tomato sauce and mozzarella and I fry up nicely to a nice helping of ammie parmisian.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I clean my own stall, brush my own horse, tack up my horse and remember those little extras like bridle number, whip and gloves. My job is basically to transfer dirt from the horse, onto myself.

I am not a horse show Barbie. After a long day of showing I’m the one who looks like they’ve been rode hard and put away wet.

I am not a horse show Barbie. No hordes follow me singing my praises and stroking my fragile ego. When I fail and there is blame to place, it is solely upon me.

I am not a horse show Barbie. When I’m successful there is no pat on the back, just me in self reminder of “congratulations, you didn’t manage to mess it up”.

I am not a horse show Barbie. White breeches never manage to stay white. Neither does crème.

I am not a horse show Barbie: I slick my hair back and shove it into a show bow as neat as I can. Despite this, it still looks like drunken monkeys have done my hair. I could be the cover child for “Helmet Head Weekly”.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I do not have the figure, the wardrobe, the flashy vehicle. But unlike Barbie both me and my significant other have genitalia.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I do for myself and for my horse and riding to our potential is more valued than the placing.

I am not a horse show Barbie. My digestive tract is ever busy, only to be outdone by my bladder which seems to be most active five minutes before my test.

I am not a horse show Barbie. Barbie has never once gotten her monthly “friend” in the midst of sweating in white breeches. For me, white breeches seem to bring it on. I now avoid white breeches. My cellulite is disappointed.

I am not a horse show Barbie. Half the battle of the show is getting safely to, and then from, the show. The rest of the day is often my feeble attempts at damage control.

I am not a horse show Barbie. When things go well I know the effort has been all mine. When the partnership with my horse is solid, that too is my doing. Our doing.

I am not a horse show Barbie. I appreciate each and every moment and I live each and every moment with gratitude and grace of being able to participate in such things.

Finding the best instructor you can is really important. They are not all created equal. Although I know there are good ones out there, there are also many who are not worth their salt. It should be noted that there are varying degrees of good and bad, and it’s up to you to decide for yourself. I only offer you up things to consider.

I am writing this based upon my experiences and of things I remember being taught or not taught, as it were.

I have calculated that during my time with horses that I have taken 847 lessons. I have watched an additional 113 lessons. That equals at least $45,000 spent on lessons alone. Since my childhood there has to have been at least twenty five people who have instructed me. 

Mention this to my family and they’ll ask why I still take lessons. “Don’t you know how to ride yet?”

Gggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr maybe not!!

After that much money being spent I should be an expert. Yet I am not. I’m just like the rest of the amateurs out there still trying to learn and to become better. So no dear family, I apparently do not yet know how to ride.

Thanks for noticing.

Rather than blame myself I’ll chose instead to pick on one American phenomenon as to why I am not better. The phenomenon that I have noticed is that here in America we have developed certain bad habits in both riding and teaching.
 
So now I must rag on those bad habits. I am hoping you knew I would.

I’ll begin with this rant: Here in the States, way too often riders are taught to ride off the front of the horse and because of this we’ve done ourselves a terrible disservice. It should also be noted that we are also terribly lacking in patience.

As a result, there are a lot of amateurs in the U.S. who quite frankly don’t ride very well. We have become a nation in a rush and as such the US horse scene is full of jumpers who want to jump before they can canter and dressage riders who want to piaffe before they can sit and balance a horse well.

And how do we compensate? By using our hands to steer, to balance and to write $45,000 worth of checks to instructors.

I could not possibly calculate how many people I’ve watched instructed over crossrails or jumps who were not yet even proficient at the canter. We’ve all seen it! Some even post videos like this on the internet thinking it looks good.

Now let’s look at posting diagonals. It is my guess that two thirds of you reading this (if not more) were taught to post the diagonal when the outside foreleg comes forward. It’s okay, you can admit it.

Yet when I went for a lesson with a Master and was on the incorrect diagonal (a stunning duh moment on my part) he instructed me that I was on “the wrong hind leg”.

This made me stop in my tracks and turn to look at him like a big, red faced yutz.

“Pardon? What’s wrong with the hind leg?” I said.

Oh, poor poor clueless me.

He took a deep breath and mustered up some patience. “You were posting on the wrong hind leg. You needed to bounce once.”

There was this instant conversation in my brain which went like this: "Oh. Okay, think brain… think.Forget about all the people watching at this clinic.I am posting on the wrong hind leg, and at the trot diagonal legs move in unison, so (insert light bulb here) duh…. I’m on the wrong diagonal! Oh thank goodness....now do"

I went on, making sure I was posting on the right diagonal. I did what everyone does. I looked down to make sure.

I could then hear him address the clinic audience. It was important what he had to say, even if I was the lab rat that caused him to say it.

“Too often riders are taught to look down for the correct diagonal on the front leg. We should not do that. We should feel the correct diagonal by concentrating on the hind leg always, the inside hind for the diagonal. Feel it, not see it. When we canter we must make sure we engage the inside hind leg as well”.

Oh.

Crap. It then occurred to me that in order for me to change this one little thing I would have to do an awful lot of work and an awful lot of relearning.

Crap!

That day sparked an odyssey of some two years, muscle memory-ing my way out of looking down at the front to know what the horse is doing. That was the day I consciously had to relearn riding the back. Ride the front end like a baby and the back end like a gorilla. Okay, got it.

So for two years at every ride I would test myself over the developing of “feel”. Two years where I’d sit the trot, close my eyes and then lift up to what I believed was the right diagonal and then opening my eyes to test and see if I got it right. In the beginning I got my guesses wrong a lot. Soon I adjusted that to when I thought I should go up I should wait once, then rise. From there I moved on to learning THAT feel.

Two years of this either makes me very dedicated, or very stupid for having taken that long to learn it.

Then again, let’s not be too harsh on me. I had had oodles of lessons in various disciplines with a myriad of instructors. Each and every one of them had told me, instructed me, been paid good money to teach me how to ride and every last one of them had instructed me to look down at the trot for when the outside foreleg goes forward as opposed to rising when the inside hind goes forward.

As it turned out, this way of instruction not only took two years to fix, but then had other results as well. I eventually had to learn to feel the body a lot more and my core and butt where better able to stay in tune with the bodies swing.

Yet I was lucky. At least I didn’t have to relearn the canter as much. It wasn’t as bad for me at the canter as it is for so many people I see. How many of us look down to check for correct lead at the canter, when all we have to do is be taught to feel if it is correct from the back end? Can you feel the inside hind reaching forward well? Can you?

Thankfully, looking down at the canter is not something I’ve had to do in a long time and I think it’s because I really tend to sit up in the canter and really weight my seat. My butt and the horse’s back are together and it’s easy to feel correct lead from wrong. It is because at the canter, I am in the habit of “feeling”.

But no so much in the trot. Why?

I think it is because there is a lack of emphasis on riding the horses body. We are instead focusing on where to put our legs or our hands. We get too busy worrying about our pose that we don’t discover feel and we lose our effectiveness.

How many instructors teach where to focus our brains? We ride our hands way too often and not our butts enough, or our horses butts enough.

Basically, we should be focusing our brains on the horses butt. Stop thinking and feel. Stop thinking and put your brain in the horses butt. This is the one situation in life where it is literally okay to have your head up an ass.

We need to ride  with less finger feel and with more fanny feel.

Like DeKunffy said, the hand should only verify.

As I wrote this my brain reminded me of a conversation I had a long time ago with someone who rode English. I rode western at the time. We were discussing how we cued our horse for the canter or lope.

At the time I thought rather highly of myself and when this English rider told me that she cued her horse from the inside leg I rather scoffed. EVERYONE knows you cue from the outside leg! Geeze, some people are just so dumb! You see back then I knew that I knew everything.

But scroll forward a few decades: I cue for the canter somewhat with the inside leg but more with the inside hip going forward.

As it turns out, she was right and I was wrong.

There I said it.

Am I entitled to a refund on that $45,000?

Some packed us as kids

Or with our fat asses

Ride after ride

They taught the masses

They steadied us when balance went askew

The most valuable horse

You ever knew

We kicked them and tugged them

Like a rambling dolt

They never ran off

And never did bolt

They taught us to walk, trot and canter

A gift of learning

Like some equine Santa

Some looked like chunks

Others more fancy

Steady in their gaits

Rarely all dancey

And all of us to the very last one

Learned from a school horse

And we learned a ton

So the next time you see that fat lazy plug

Give him a kiss and give him a hug

For none of us would be where we are

If we didn’t first learn on this equine star

June 28^th: We are exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. For five heartbreaking days we worked on saving her, my best friends 18 year old Quarter Horse mare who was damn good school horse. She had done her job well being one of the most dependable school horses I’ve ever seen. She never hurt anyone and was trustworthy at a show or on the trail, one of those irreplaceable babysitter kinds.

 

It all began innocently enough. We didn’t know it then but our enemy was to be fate and circumstance. It was this night that we noticed she was chewing her hay with a slight tilt of the head. We didn’t worry as her teeth had been floated just a day or two before, so we figured it was because of that. Wait and see, we thought.

 

June 29^th: An eleven year girl takes the mare for a ride in the arena. We’re there too, enjoying the beauty of the day, watching all the girls riding. The mare trotted around, nothing extraordinary, nothing to catch ones attention. When they were done the girls went through the usual post ride routine.... walking, hosing, brushing, pampering, and then putting the horses away. A short time afterwards we noticed the mare lying down in her stall.

 

We got her up, the instinctive “oh my gosh is it colic?” thing to do only to find instead the strangest thing. A muscle on her left shoulder, right where the leg and shoulder meet, began to twitch. Then, it twitched harder and soon pulsed so strongly that it began to vibrate the entire left foreleg back and forth.

 

We thought back to the ride not long before. We hadn’t noticed any misstep or stumble. None of us noticed the mare lame, yet now all of a sudden she was.

 

We called the vet. He arrived and began a series of soundness checks. I winced as he rotated the shoulder. It was the first time I’d ever seen a horse’s shoulder and foreleg stretch out sideways like that. Obviously he was checking to see if she’d pulled something somewhere.

 

June 30th: The vet returns when the mare showed no improvement and is in fact, worse. He draws blood for testing. She was under constant surveillance as she progressed further downward. Although she was continuing to eat and drink, she’d tilt her head oddly while doing it. There was no fever and her appetite was great. In fact, she would want to eat and drink all the way to the end. She seemed to be chewing each bit for a long time, sometimes with the odd head tilting. Her mouth was foamy. We could see her swallowing but when she drank small amounts of water dribbled from her nose. However, she was managing to drink healthy amounts of water.

 

We didn’t know then but swallowing was getting progressively more difficult for her. Thoughts of choke, or something stuck in her throat were bounced around. She was scoped. A myriad of conditions and ailments were tossed about. We felt utterly helpless and stupid.

 

Among those ailments on the hit parade were West Nile, Lyme’s Disease, and botulism. We searched the internet for what could have caused this. She seemed so sick but had not even the slightest fever. One by one we went through diseases discussing each with the intensity of a Middle East accord. We considered botulism but dismissed it as we figured an affected horse would expire quickly. We were wrong……..dead wrong.

 

The blood results were going to take a few days. In those few days we made a thousand phone calls and spent all nighters on the internet. Her twitches continued and eating was getting harder for her. I noticed that when I’d put my hand on the affected muscle and pushed, the twitching would stop. Remove the hands and the twitching would return. The twitching occurred whenever the mare put weight on that leg. We did the best we could to care for her.

 

July 2^nd: We finally received the results of the blood work and the diagnosis was botulism. All the clinical signs were also by now apparent. She restlessly shifted her weight and couldn’t find comfort. The vet returned hoping to insert a stomach tube so we could keep her strength up by feeding her. However, the soft palate swelled, elongating to the point that it held open the flap to the esophagus. (In horses this flap closes when the animals eat or drink.) She couldn’t be tube fed. Anything passing would go straight to her lungs and not to her belly. She had been on IV fluids for a few days, but now her only mouth quenching moisture came from the licking of ice to wet her Sahara dry mouth.

 

We had our precious answer yet that answer only gave rise to more questions. Where did she get it?  She’s turned out in dirt pens and other than a trail ride is mostly at home. There had been a show, but it seemed too long before this happened. Other horses had been where she’d been, ate what she ate, and were turned out where she was turned out. Yet only she was sick.

 

Faced with a good horse’s mortality my girlfriend opted for the expense of the serum for botulism. This serum however, was only effective on two strains of botulism, and there were a total of seven. The vet explained that it would halt the worsening of the condition but it was up to the mare’s body to combat whatever damage had already been done. She was given a good chance of recovery.... given the serum was administered before too much damage was done and given this botulism was one of the two types which could be stopped by this treatment.

Things worsened and we waited and prayed. We expected the serum to arrive by overnight mail by the next day, but the next day was already too late.

 

We tried to get the medicine faster but couldn’t. The equine hospital had just used the last of theirs and they suggested not even trailering the mare, as the stress of travel seems to progress the illness faster.

 

The vet also explained that if the serum was given to a horse still capable of standing, and of the right strain type, that the odds of survival and full recovery were in our favor. Administered to a horse no longer able to stand and the odds would shift dramatically in favor of mortality.

 

Ever hungry and thirsty the mare was weakening. The kids continually offered her ice and took turns crying. We were all so frustrated and became frantic when she began laying down more than she was standing.

 

Fluids, painkillers and other things were given to her in a futile effort to help and diminish discomfort. She continued to fight trying to cling on to life as long as she could. Rising became harder and now her efforts occasionally caused her to bang herself around and she had scrapes on her face and head from stall walls.

 

July 3rd: We took turns watching the mare who was now under 24 hour supervision. With the arrival of both the vet and the serum the battle with botulism continued. All waited and prayed for improvement. None came.

 

What did come was her getting cast in the stall when she somehow managed to catch a hoof under a heavy stall mat, lift it, and then get her legs tangled in the mess. While we tried to free her, her IV disconnected and my pants became drenched in her blood. I remember practically laying on her head to keep it still and from hitting stall walls.

 

We had no idea it could be this bad.

 

Thrashing legs, her soft moans and lingering groans devastated us. Her breaths were now as rumbling as mine after a bad bout of bronchitis. She cast herself again and again on different parts of the stall.

 

We put on one of those leather head protectors horses use while trailering to help her from smashing her head so bad. I don’t think it helped much at all.

 

Once, at about 10 pm she managed to stand, and the “team” walked her slowly the ten feet to a nearby, larger stall. We thought it would keep her free of further casting. Didn’t work. The stall was thick with bedding, the perimeter lined with bedding bags, blankets, anything to keep her from thrashing and banging into the walls. All that night we watched and battled. It was absolute torture. We’d throw ourselves on her to keep her from thrashing so bad. It’s amazing that no hoof met anyone’s head. It was also painfully clear that despite our best efforts she had gotten much worse. It had been my friends wish all along that her beloved mare should not suffer.

 

This was suffering.

 

July 4^th: Her tail is paralyzed. Eyes battered and bruised are very swollen. We should have put her down. We didn’t know it would be like this.

 

It’s 4 AM. It’s over. It must be over. Keeping her alive further would be too cruel. Her whole body had dings and bangs. We called the vet and at 5 am he arrived.

 

He checked her out as she lay there, then shook his head and sighed, wiping his eyes. Darkness became dawn in a surreal way. As chirping birds began their song two giant injections of purple phenolbarbital were given. We all sobbed as the mare quietly went to sleep and shallow breaths slowed to nothing. Only the chirping birds were left.

 

The struggle was over and finally she was at peace.

 

The vet cried too, but tried so very, very hard not to show it. I saw it though. Somehow it was most endearing to see that he cared so much. It meant a lot especially as he was such the stoic type. He was near retirement, yet after all these years, he could still cry.

 

My whole body hurts from soreness. Muscles in my back are locking up, strained to the max from the efforts in the stall. We can’t stop crying. We let her down. The only thing I could think to do to possibly, remotely feel better was to write this diary.

All should know about botulism, the silent killer. Perhaps I can find some self healing with the thought that through the dissemination of this information no other horse will ever have to succumb again to this (insert favorite expletive) condition.

 

Botulism sucks.

It is my observation that times are a-changing. With the continuing debate over competition riding at the international levels (and even regionally or locally) the cry of the masses is being heard and that cry screams that horsemen from all over the world are unhappy with the current trends and status quo.

Could you ever have imagined the day when over 41,000 people would dare tell Olympians and Olympic judges that they are wrong and what they are seeing in the show ring is not only displeasing, but anger causing?

There have been calls for new organizations other than the FEI to be formed as well as the ongoing righteous "Say Yes To 401" campaign that people are working their hearts out to support. Surely this is all taking a toll on the sport and just like my own show dreams have fallen to the wayside, I would dare say that many others agree with how I feel.

Good job at promoting dressage FEI. Bravo.

Let's face it........ dressage is not a 'user friendly' sport. It takes horsemen who have been riding for decades and basically tosses them back into the cradle and tells them they know nothing. And even as you rise up the levels you stand a chance of being tossed back down again if your basics are not fundamentally sound. Your training pyramid tumbles down like a desert ruin in ancient Egypt.

When it comes to financing a bid to some sort of success in dressage, boulders are stacked up against you. The horses cost more - way more - than in many other equestrian sports. Whereas $50,000 buys you a solid 2nd level horse in dressage, the same amount of money brings you a much, much higher level of performance in quarter horses or in breed competition like Palomino for instance.

Even when you attend shows you see the scism between disciplines. It costs twice as much to rent a stall and tack stall at a dressage competition than it does at Quarter Horse or Palomino shows even though each if conducted at the same facility. Entry fees differ as well and show the same differences in pricing.

Plus, it should be noted that when you go to a Quarter Horse or other types of shows there are often multiple judges scoring you and placing you. You can win under one judge, get second under another, and be unplaced by a third. This gives some equality to the judging and offers riders the most bang for the buck.

So now I find myself considering my chosen sport, dressage. Dressage costs me more to show in, forces me down to the bottom trying to scratch, bite and claw my way up. Often I'm told that I should have a "warmblood" to be serious and be truly competetive. A horse capable of top performance at top competitions costs over a million dollars, and even something younger and less trained costs over $100,000. The yearly fees for the various organizations costs a ton, lifetime horse registrations and what not costs as well. Lessons and clinics are a fortune. The cherry on the top to this mess is the fact that the training and riding practices of many of those winning in the highest places are not practicing anything I'd want to do any damn way.

Now the latest FEI is doing is trying to appease us all with three diagrams, the second of which seems to look like a rider leaning back and pulling on the reins to me. Instead of having the balls to take a stand and uphold their rules on rolkur/hyperflexion/WTF riding they are trying to please all parties. Look at the horses being ridden this way.... do they look pleased?

I'm sorry, but this is all a bunch of crap and quite frankly I tire of it.

I love my horse and have no plans of giving him up, but I think I'm just going to ride him and enjoy him. Every day dressage is leaving a worse and worse taste in my mouth.

How about you, dear masses? How do you feel?

Is the new era in dressage the end of an era?

As an avid reader and equestrian I frequent a number of blogs and discussion forums. Often, the forums get a bit messy when discussing training. But yesterday I came across something that has really turned me on. It is titled "Learning Theory and Dressage" and discusses training as it relates to a horse's ability to learn. It appears on the Ultimate Dressage Training forum.

I would love to rewrite it so I'd come off all smart, but there is no way I could do these postings justice. So instead this time I am just going to post the link and I urge everyone to give it a read. Sit down with a cup of coffee or something because it is quite interesting. Read it and draw your own conclusions as to which theory you agree with!

I applaud the posters, one and all, for one of the best entries I've ever seen on an internet posting forum, and it's still growing!

Mazel tov!

http://www.ultimatedressage.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=185155