My muses--one OTTB, one with spots

Calabar--the muse, the mirror, the magical pony

Calabar has taught me a lot and has led me down the path towards what seems to be a new chapter in my life--do all Off-Track Thoroughbreds create such transformation for their owners?

That would be a lot of transformation across this new land of Off-Track Thoroughbred loving fans. World-changing transformation.

This could be truly awesome.

But back to me and what Calabar has done for me.

He has--through trial and tribulation--taught me how to believe in myself and in him. He has shown me the truth in my instincts and challenged me to be braver and push past fear. He has carried me when he was hurting and bounced me off when I wasn't paying attention. He has asked me to get on and ride. He has shown me joy. He has made me cry in frustration. He has taught me patience and how to open up and play.

He has turned me into an advocate--a loud and occasionally strident advocate--for the Off-Track Thoroughbred. That in turn led me to Neigh Savers and working to move racing Thoroughbreds from the track and into new careers.

I was recently promoted to the board of Neigh Savers, which is both humbling and exciting. Helping direct this organization and be more active in our efforts to promote OTTBs is like ice cream every day. Better, actually. When my job got if-fy earlier this year (still there, by the way), Steve asked me what I really wanted to do.

This is it.

I love horses, all horses, but the Off-Track Thoroughbred has given me a mission and now a path to help fulfill that mission.

Neigh Savers led to the Thoroughbred Classic Horse Show Series and I suspect this is all just the tip of the iceberg.

Many thanks are due to Calabar--my fuzzy brown mirror. Thank you for showing me your heart and leading me to myself. But there are kudos due also to the spotty horse who started this ball rolling by being her beautiful and challenging self. Lena Rey, we would never be here without you.

Lena--the original muse, the mare that began it all

Outside the comfort zone

Calabar and Lena, post lesson, enjoying brunch

Getting us out, way out, of our comfort zone was a good thing for both Bar and me. It was not an easy thing, and I don't just mean the whole rigmarole of getting horses in trailers, going to a new place and doing something totally different.

What is hard, what is breaking my heart, is the realization that I have boxed in my horse It hurts--even though I know the whys and the reasons--that I've removed Calabar's "go" instead of finding a way to channel it into productive movement. I have a better sense of that, now, and will eventually stop beating myself up.

There is a silver lining, to this, though. I have to push him because he's doing what he thinks I want, what I've told him time after time after time is the right thing--don't go fast, hesitate when you don't know what I'm asking. He is listening to me, I just have to change what I'm telling him so we both get better.

The other positive note is that we did get out and do this new and somewhat scary thing and--after a bit of a rocky start--we all learned something.

Both horses loaded wonderfully, even Calabar needed little encouragement to climb in on our way to the day's adventure. The drive to the facility was short--10 minutes, tops--and uneventful, and unloading was calmly done.

Things got a little dicey with both horses when they began to notice the activity level around them--a group lesson in one arena, geese and a pond to our right, someone shooting something off nearby, a horse jumping in the arena behind us AND a hot air balloon low on the horizon.

Lena held it together fairly well, but Calabar needed a reminder (read elbow to rib cage) that just because he's freaked out, he can't forget I'm standing there.

He has always reacted with a lot of energy, shall we say, to new situations--particularly new situations with lots of horses doing lots of different things--and yesterday was no different. After Steve and Lena went up to the jump arena to warm up, I climbed on Bar to follow. He was not being good. Dancing, spinning, not listening. So I got off. And we did many circles in the driveway until he could walk next to me without dancing past me, allowing me to reward him by going to where Lena and Steve were.

He still wasn't settled, though, and the sight of many colorful jumps did not help. "WHAT?! You want me to jump? What do you want me to do? Where is Lena? Why is she over there. WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE???" I think that about covers what was going on his fuzzy Thoroughbred brain. I kept him circling around me, away from me, changing directions, whatever speed he needed to go--as long as he didn't run me over--until he was circling me at a walk. I tried to hard to be his oasis, to be calm and steady while he danced around, and when he was calm, he could come in for a head scratch. Luckily, he did manage to stop levitating in time for our session.

There are no pictures of the session, sorry. We rode together and, as it turns out, my camera battery was dead anyway, so my words will have to suffice.

Ellen started with me and my stiff self, and gave me a vision. Move with his front feet, feel them, let the rest follow. Oh, and sit up straight, push into my feet. Funny that the "in the feet" bit sounded a lot like Ike. "If you're in your feet, you're ready for what they might do." Right. Ike said that too. Where did I forget it?

Here's where the spotlight hit me. One of the things I needed to do was push Calabar forward, get him to go. Where he used to launch himself into a big, swinging walk I could dance with, he now plods along, waiting for me to stop him from going too fast. In trying to do what I want, he has compromised his own beautiful movement.

As I said earlier, the good bit of that is that he is trying to do what I want. So I need to want different things, or at very least give him an outlet that gives me control and doesn't shut him down.

Ellen gave me a tool. Not the one rein stop, no--the one-rein-move-your-butt-over. This one simple movement accomplishes a couple things. One, it redirects the energy, allowing me more control and more safety; two, it teaches him when I pick up the reins, he needs to do something with his hind end. The latter will be something we can build on.

You could see the wheels turning when I slid my inside hand down and pulled his head out. "Oh, you want my head. Here it is. Um. You're not letting go. Can I bob my head up and down and make you let go? No. Hm. What are you asking me to do??!!"

It occurs to me as I write about it that my horse and I are so very much alike. The first few times we tried it, as Bar struggled to figure out what I wanted, I asked Ellen if I should nudge his butt with my foot. The answer was, "No. Just wait for him." He bobbed his head and played with his bit, I was convinced he needed another cue and was ready to deliver it to help him, fairly humming with restraint.

However, part of the problem was that he had physically blocked himself in with his outside rear and couldn't move onto it to move his hind end over, so all my extra pushing would only have frustrated him more. It took a few tries--and my perpetual personal challenge, patience--but he got it. First, all he had to do was shift his weight and I'd release the rein, but gradually we got to where as soon as I slid that hand down the rein, the hind would move over and I'd release. The goal, the thing I need to work on is a) making sure it's his hind end moving over and not his front and b) if he walks off from there, letting him. We did this over and over and he should have gotten irritated or frustrated. But he didn't. He got looser and softer and more responsive. When  he would start to get fidgety, we'd walk for awhile, Bar teaching me to feel those front legs and move with them.

Ellen said she had a Thoroughbred once that when things would get out of hand and he'd get nervous, she'd go to this exercise. He knew it, he'd relax because he knew it, and things would de-escalate. Bar is like that. If he knows what you're asking, he calms down and does it. Part of our problem is me not knowing how to ask and him not knowing what I'm asking, so having a trick like this--a tool to use to remind him he does know something and I do know how to tell him to do it--is a gift.

We got to use the new trick in real life, even. While Ellen was working with Steve and Lena, Bar and I worked on feeling his front legs up the side of the arena. Then, I don't know, a moth flew by, and he danced. And I reached down and moved his butt over and he stopped.

So next up is telling him it's okay to move forward again, go with him when he does it, and correct him only as needed. I'd like to be able to do this without a Dressage whip or spurs, but I might have to use one or the other until both of us believe me. Ellen offered Ike-like advice, there, too. As long as they know it's there, that's really all you ever need.

As for Steve and Lena Rey, they got to do some more active things and she showed off her athletic side and beautiful sensitive self. They worked on things like lateral movement to get Steve in the right place for Lena to be comfortable and confident in her own movements. Ellen thought Lena was quite lovely and said so. Lena heard her, too, and you could tell. If a horse could bat her eyelashes, Lena did.

Lena likes her rider to be balanced, as do all horses. She's just super sensitive to it and has been known to give her opinion by way of bucking, crow hopping, or doing the shoulder drop and spin that dumped me off last year. Bar, of course, is no saint in that area, but he has gotten to where he will tolerate my lapses most of the time. It would be better if he didn't have to, though.

Katie Dougherty-Kunde and Willoughby

After our session, we got to watch the beauty and grace that Katie Dougherty-Kunde and Willoughby create together. While I was watching, Ellen pointed out that everything Katie was asking Will to do was based on the very simple things Steve and I had done with Lena and Calabar. I had been feeling like I hadn't done all the things I set out to do in the lesson, but that helped me realize that I'd done more than I thought.

Bar and I had traveled way outside our safe little box and we'd done pretty well, all things considered. Steve and Lena had also found new ways to work together that they both enjoyed.

We all survived, we all learned and we all enjoyed the experience. More than that, I see a pathway to helping Bar be the horse he is meant to be and still have me as his rider. Peter used to tell me to "liven" Bar up, and now I see not only what he meant but why and how to move us along.

That sounds like a win to me.

Lena schools me for next week

Sunday I had another lesson using Lena, and she did an admirable job of being good, but still challenging.

This is important as she is preparing me for a lesson on Calabar.

The difference between them is interesting. Lena knows what to do. She was trained in both cutting and basic western riding skills--stopping, turning, neck reining, collection. She just doesn't always do it. She likes to drop her right shoulder as you move to the right and cut corners no matter what direction you go.

Calabar doesn't really know what to do, so he reacts. Even Peter says he's not bad, that his main problem is not knowing what you want and then trying to get around it. He needs guidance, just like Lena, but in a slightly different way.

Lena needs a reminder that we know she knows what she knows.

So we spent time on moving her forward, staying straight, and collecting. It did take some doing, but once she saw I wasn't going to let her slack off, she got better. That was about 5 minutes before the end of the lesson, but hey.

We (well, I) also worked on posting because, as Peter says, I have to do it on Calabar. He has a big trot. BIG. Bouncy. Hard to sit. So I post, and not very well. In fact, the last time I got dumped, I was posting. I bounced too high out of the saddle, laughed.. and ended up on the ground when Bar bolted forward.

So Peter pushed me to work on posting effectively. We made some progress, but I think it's an ongoing project. I swear I was barely out of the saddle and Peter said I was still too high. Sheesh. "It's a back and forth, not an up and down." "Lower!"

My posting aside, I felt good about the lesson and what we worked on. My seat feels better, softer, more solid. I feel calmer, more confident. Again, it may be because of all the bits and pieces Peter makes me think about--hands, shoulders, feet, not to mention directing the horse. It was also good for Lena to use her body the right way and she seemed calm and happy when we were done.

My plan is to take a lesson on Calabar this coming Sunday. I'm nervous, I admit it. But I also know it's time to see what he and I can do.

Forrest's first trail ride

Forrest had his first trail ride experience and by all accounts (I wasn't actually there) did an amazing job.

I would love to have been there, but Steve and I had spent all weekend in San Francisco and came back Sunday while Katie and crew were off on their adventure.

Forrest stuck very close to Lena the whole time, but handled sand, wind, waves (not too close), and even a trailer ride with a scrambley Lena Rey.

Katie learned that left turns with Lena in the front of the trailer really need to be taken at, oh, two miles an hour. Lena prefers the back of the trailer, but will ride in the front IF you take those left turns at a snails pace. Otherwise, she feels trapped and scrambles badly, usually banging herself up in the process.

The way back, Forrest had to ride in front and he did--after a bit of convincing.

I am proud of Katie, Forrest, and Lena. They all did a great job. Would love to be there the next time out!

Quick update

Our internet connection, much like Lena, is spotty so this will be quick.

Both horses are relaxed and calm, eating and drinking well--as well as what follows the eating and drinking well. Bar had a bit of a rocky start with the change of venue and routine, but after a brief recurrence of TB reactionary behavior, he did settle out and has been a trooper. Lena has settled in well, also, and has demonstrated how well she can untie ropes. Good thing Steve can tie a good knot.

The really cool thing is Bar has chased a mechanical cow. Twice. Lena has actually cut the mechanical cow twice, too, looking a lot like she was bred to do just that. Oh wait, she was.

No pictures of Bar giving chase, yet, because while he was an exceptional photography assistant and held still while Lena cut, she did not reciprocate. She got a little jazzed up working the cow and Steve couldn't get her to settle enough to take any shots today of the amazing Thoroughbred cutting horse. Actually, it looks like pictures are too much for the internet connection, so they will all have to wait.

More to come, I promise! Great trip so far, lots of learning, lots of dots connected for Steve, Lena, Bar, and me.

Ike is also helping me a lot with my riding, and as always taking the horse into consideration. He said Bar is smart and picks things up quickly, and is taking care of me. All of this I felt, but to have a trainer I respect as much as Ike confirm it is a gift I didn't expect.

Of course, after staying up here, with trails right off the property, two great arenas, and fun adventures--Bar and Lena may just wave at us as we drive off towards home.

Playin' with Lena Rey

Tonight when I got to the barn after work, Katie was there working Sammy, Steve had already come and gone after cleaning and graining, and I had my choice of Bar or Lena to work with first.

I admit it. I'm an older child so can empathize to some extent with Lena's feelings of being shoved aside and losing center-of-attention status. Besides, I wanted to work on the ground with her on some de-sensitization, really try to get her to use that big brain of hers for something other than spooking for no apparent reason. Well, no reason a lowly human like me might understand, anyway.

With success in mind (my mind, anyway), we went down to the round pen and worked on what pressure meant, when to stand still, and how to tell the difference in my body language. By the end, she was relaxed, licking and chewing, but still sensitive and responsive. Plus she got out, got to kick up her heels, roll, AND we still had fun.

Bar had to be content with grooming, a rub-down, and (not his favorite) being wormed. He was okay with everything--including not have to do any work, I think-- but the worming, even with molasses as a sweetener. I got the lip-face and had to hold that big, brown head up in the air for quite awhile until I was sure he swallowed. Actually, all three got wormed today, so they are all on the same schedule--easier to remember that way. Sammy apparently has quite the wormer-avoidance head-bob, so Katie used the round pen technique--you have to run around until you come into the middle and take your medicine. It was an effective tool, though I think molasses worked pretty well, too.

All in all, I think it was a pretty good night with both horses. (Minus the worming, they say.)

Lena and Katie

Lena had been ridden a lot this week--twice by Katie and twice by Steve by the time today rolled around. So when Katie went to get her out of her paddock today, Lena tried to object. She didn't succeed, but it was a fine display of athleticism vs. stubborn Katie.

Stubborn won out.


Then Katie tried the new English saddle on Lena. I didn't get any pictures of the riding part because I was working with Bar during most of their ride, but did see Lena relax into a beautiful engaged frame and Katie do a much better job posting than I have been able to master so far. Sigh.


Good to see Katie riding more and it's really good for Lena to have more work. Bad for that spotty horse to get bored!