Calabar-land

"You has hat hair, Mom."

With all the other exciting news going on in my world, there has been a little blog neglect over here at Spotty Horse News. And there are actually some really cool things to report from Calabar-land.

You didn't know he had a land? Well, he does. It is special and things there revolve around his awesome brown self.

Lena has a new friend, someone who rides with a gentle hand and treats her with respect. This is good because Lena needs more riding. How is this related to Calabar-land? He can relax and not worry. He worried before, with good reason as it turns out. The other person we let ride Lena did not treat her gently and she was upset and sore before we figured it out. Steve is still kicking himself over that, but Calabar assures us he will let us know when things are amiss with his spotty lady friend.

In fact, he did so with me just the other day. He and I were riding in the indoor arena and he got a little agitated. He didn't buck or try to dump me, he just put his head down and ran a little harder than was called for. He responded when I told him "easy" and then I heard a slight ruckus from the outdoor. I thought it was just Lena running, but it turns out Steve had fallen off after Lena had stopped faster and harder than anticipated and both of them were a little upset. How my horse knows this through arena walls is not clear to a mortal such as myself, but it is empirically obvious.

Speaking of mortal experiences, I touched a higher plane a few days before that. My horse asked me for contact. Yep. He reached right down and grabbed that bit. Twice. That is the first time--or at very least the first time I recognized it. I was so excited I am mildly afraid I did not respond correctly. I think I squealed. I know I laughed and said, "Good boy," very enthusiastically.

He may have sighed in resignation, stuck with an owner who does not know immediately what to do with that gift of connection he gave.

And THEN! After that lovely stretch down, standing in the cross ties, he let me rub his neck. This is not normal. He has sore spots in his neck that he sort of wants me to rub but when I do so, it makes him chew hard on the cross ties. He knows better than to try to bite me at this point, but he also is very clear on how much pressure is too much. Mostly, the pressure has always been too much, but the other day? It was just right in Calabar-land. Not one, not two, but three blows out as I rubbed. Three! Plus a head shake or two.

So despite my recent preoccupation with other Off-Track Thoroughbreds, Calabar is pleased to have things in his land going along as he expects. As long as I don't bring any of these others home, all will still be well in Calabar-land. He says there is enough for him to manage with just Lena and Forrest, thank you very much. And good night.

Natural Horsemanship

I heard recently, in a video we watched in my Equine Science Survey course, that the rise of natural horsemanship coincides with a few things that have happened since the turn of the century: more women becoming involved with horses and horsemanship, principals of psychology being more widespread, and a higher level of education in today's average horse owner.

All of that makes a lot of sense, and helps explain the phenomenon of the Parellis, Monty Roberts, Clinton Anderson, and any other number of trainers and clinicians that are out there today.

But the really interesting thing for me is how much of a difference listening to my own instincts--now with some affirmation, I admit--has made with Bar.

Owning a horse has been a life-altering experience for me, but one of the things no one warned me about was how much advice would come crashing down on me from all sides. "Use a stud chain on him!" "Use a tie-down." "Use a xxxx bit, that will slow him down." And every time I tried something harsher with him, all it did was make him fight it more, make him more upset, and more likely to take off. But I tried them all, despite the nagging sense that it wasn't the right thing for him, or for us. Now it's possible he knew I wasn't right with the tools I was using and took advantage, but it's also perfectly plausible that using the harshest method first is not the right tactic--certainly not with horses like him or Lena.

There is a balance, of course. When we first got Bar, he was a bad biter and there was no nice way to explain to him as we got to know each other that biting is not acceptable. Another horse would bite back, so a smack on the nose was the best response until we could work on the psychology of why he was biting in the first place. One of the pieces of advice I got was to never give him treats by hand and never let him be at all mouthy, but I could tell he knew the difference. So I reward him when he isn't shoving his nose in my pockets, when he doesn't snatch a the carrot, when he uses his lips instead of his teeth. Now when he really wants a carrot, he turns his head away from me or does a stretch between his front legs. Well, sometimes he gives me a smooch because I also taught him that, but giving him the opportunity to do the right thing--once we established that biting was the absolutely wrong thing--allowed him to be a better horse.

He and Lena both respond so much better to positive reinforcement and redirection of their energy. I've written before about setting him up to do the right thing and I have watched it build his confidence in himself and his trust in me to the point where he checks in with me nearly every time something starts to get a little out of control.

My challenge? Trusting myself and my own riding abilities and staying with him, allowing him to be exuberant and playful while on his back, as much as I do when I'm on the ground.

If I could transfer the trust and confidence I feel between us on the trail into the arena, that would be a magical thing.

Bar update

It's been a busy week for us, with much of our family coming to visit for Thanksgiving, so the horses didn't get much work. They did get attention and carrots, but both were anxious to get out by the time Friday rolled around.

Katie took Lena out and both of them had a very good ride. I set the cones up for them, supervised carefully by Lena to make sure they were the proper distance apart for racing around and graceful lead-switching. Bar wanted to come out, but there was too much going on at the barn, and we had Steve's brother, wife, and 4-year old nephew with us, too, so it was just too hectic right then. That may have turned out to be an inadvertent lesson, since Bar was pretty upset watching Lena and Katie run around on such a nice day while he was stuck in his paddock.



I also tried a new tactic to deal with Bar's suddenly recurring habit of nipping--he got a "time out," meaning I left him alone in his paddock for a little while every time he tried to take a bite, which actually seemed to work pretty well.



After we saw everyone off and had lunch, we went home where I fidgeted for a little while. Steve pointed out I couldn't possibly settle down until I went back to the barn, so I went. Bar seemed glad I showed up again, and really excited when I walked over with his bridle. I sat in his paddock, swapping a new bit onto his bridle, while he licked my pant legs and nosed the bridle without even an attempt at a nibble. I know some people would tell me to discourage any mouthy behavior, but I don't have any problem with him being affectionate and he's proven over and over that he knows the difference. He gets a completely different look in his eye when he's about to take a nip--a look that was noticeably absent while he waited for me to finish the bit-swapping.

I think one of the places things started to go astray with him recently was in the round pen, particularly me not enforcing discipline and letting him run loose, including over my commands. Not a good plan, I admit. So this time, I did some basic walking and leading ground work with him, then left him in by himself to give him room to buck and fart to his heart's content while I watched but didn't direct him at all. Then I went back in and asked him to do some more work with me, for me, on the longe line. He was a little confused at first, but he did stick with me and trot some patient circles both directions without arguing, stopped when I asked him to, then walked calmly back up to the barn with me to get saddled--in the dark at feeding time, no less.

It was too late in the day to let him work up much of a sweat, plus he'd gotten a lot of his pent-up exuberance out in the round pen, so I was hoping to work with his brain using my body cues while keeping him at a walk or trot. It actually went pretty well. I worked on slowing his trot with my post rather than my hands, which would have worked better if I'd shortened my stirrups a hair more to get out of the saddle better, but we'll try that next time. He was pretty cooperative, even though I knew he was dying to do more running, and I just concentrated on setting him up to succeed so the session stayed positive for both of us.

I had been a little worried about him physically because he had refused to go forward with Steve the other day, so concentrated on keeping him moving forward and on keeping my hands soft and out of his mouth. I don't think I did a great job, but he gave me most of what I asked for, so I must not have done too badly as far as he was concerned. He is, however, getting a massage Friday from Karen to be sure I haven't missed anything obvious. Yes, my horses are spoiled. I suspect Lena will be miffed when Karen arrives and Lena finds out she's not the one getting the massage.

Bar has been a challenge for me in a lot of ways, but he's also making me think a lot about why I love riding and horses. He's making me be creative with my training and push my skills further every day to figure out ways to show him how to be a better horse.

I know he can be a brat, but he's my brat and I think he's worth it. I also think he's got so much more in him and can teach me so much more about being a rider and horse owner--I just have to convince him it's more fun to work with me than to argue with me.

Quick update

It's been awhile, I know. I've been on the road for a week so far, first at Maker Faire Austin, and now in NYC (again) for a week for Photo Plus Expo.

So, here is a quick update on the horse and cat front.

I did connect with some horse slobber in front of our hotel in Austin. His name was Rowdy and he was a huge black Clydesdale who was ready to get rolling with his carriage full of little girls (and their parents), but let me scratch his neck and pat his nose first.

Lena is doing well and seems to be healing. Karen came out last week and said her muscles felt much looser and no more treatment is needed for now. Karen wants to go on a trail ride with us because the last time she took her mare Ellie out, Ellie acted just like a Thoroughbred and scared the woman Karen was riding with too much. Since we ride crazy horses, we may be a better set of trail partners. Of course, we may end up with a race on our hands, too.

Bar managed to lose Steve in the big arena on Sunday, then proceeded to buck, fart, and take himself over the jumps before settling down. Apparently, it caused a bit of an uproar at the barn. We think riding him more often is probably the best solution, though he may not agree.(At least at first.) I like to do a lot of ground work with him before I get on, too, because I think it helps. It doesn't always take the fire out of him, but it usually gets him a little more focused and in tune with me.

Katie D. had a horse show in LA right before that. I know she and Willoughby did really, really well and there were neck ribbons and everything! She was really happy with the way they performed, but I'll let her elaborate.

Lastly, we still haven't seen Wesley. He was in the house snuggling with Steve and me the Friday before I left and that was the last we saw him. We've checked the neighborhood and called and called, but it's been over a week now and we don't think he's coming back. I like to think he found some nice person who stays home with him all the time and feeds him steak. Wherever he is, I'm glad we had him in our life, even if it was for only that short amount of time. Mostly I don't think about it too much because it makes me so sad. I've been dreaming of him coming home since I left and have that brief hopeful moment when I wake up, only to realize seconds later it was only a dream. Bah.

And now I'm off for my first NYC subway ride, meeting up with my aunt and uncle and doing a little bit of shopping for warmer clothes! NY is a bit cooler than Austin was and I could only pack so much in my poor suitcase!

Riding the wind

I fell off Bar again and have been struggling over the last few days with how I'm feeling about all this. It's certainly better today than it was last Wednesday night, though it's been an interesting philosophical journey for me so far.

I love that crazy horse, but I've been trying too hard to control him in ways that don't work well with his personality, causing frustration and outbursts on his part and more fear and attempts at control on my part. Ugly spiral. In this case, the outburst was him launching himself like we were leaving the starting gate, only he left something behind - me.

After our successful trail ride, I was determined to relax more and not hang on his head so much. I started out okay, but he was very fresh after two days off and really wanted to run. I tried to work him through it from a pretending-to-be-relaxed-but-really-utterly-fearful mindset, which didn't work at all. He spooked and off I came, flying backwards, suddenly suspended in thin air like a cartoon character. I do have to say that if that was even half of his starting gate speed, it's no wonder he won races. Now, had I been paying attention to him and not had my head on some other thing - not a good plan, by the way - I might have had enough wherewithal to stay on. Peter's comment was that I had probably relaxed just a little too much. Hard balance, that one.

I was really disappointed in myself, totally unsure how I was going to deal with this horse without changing my personality or his. It's more than his need to run or "have a job" as some folks say. It's also crucial to my growth as a rider and his growth as my horse to trust each other, and part of the way that happens is to have fun together. When I try to hold him back, hold him in, turn it into a constant battle because I'm afraid - even if I have reason to be - we're not having fun anymore, we're not learning, leaving stagnation as the very best thing we can hope for.

That's not what I want and I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it. I watched both Steve and Katie let Bar run - within limits - and I saw him respond to them and work with them in ways he and I had lost along the way.

At Steve's suggestion, I rode Lena for two days to try and get some of my confidence back and it did help a lot. Friday, even though it was windy and she was a little spooky, I managed to feel like I was moving with her, pushing myself just a little, still able to stay (mostly) relaxed. Saturday, though, Katie was riding Bar and came up on our inside just for fun, and I felt Lena gather up to take off and race them. I got scared, snapped at Katie, who couldn't possibly have realized where my head and gut were at that moment, and reined Lena in. Katie backed off and she and Steve took Bar to have a bath, leaving me alone in the arena to push myself past my comfort zone and prove to myself I could handle it. I'd like to say that didn't add to the pile of guilt and sadness in my heart, but you all know it did.

So by the time my Sunday lesson rolled around, I had myself in quite a state. Guilty, afraid, upset -- all things that would not translate well to a horse still so sensitive to my emotions he couldn't help but sense how on-edge I was and respond in his larger and more dramatic way.

I actually sat and talked to both horses while I waited for them to finish their grain. Bar nuzzled and rubbed his big head on my knee and Lena groomed my arm and hair with her gentle and flexible lips, almost like she was trying her best to get me to relax and have a little faith.

It's not that I want to let either horse careen recklessly around the arena, either. It's that in order to improve them and improve my own riding, I have to be able to handle that possibility without going into a gibbering, tight-handed, panic because that won't work. They will both throw goofiness and power at me and I need to be able to ride it out and get them refocused so none of us gets hurt. I AM a good enough rider to handle both of them - when I'm not anticipating so much I over-react, when I can relax and experience them as horses I actually really enjoy riding. I forgot that last part for awhile and it caught up to me in a big way.

Besides, it's that very energy that makes them both so fun to ride, makes you feel like you are part of something magical and powerful.

So I went down for my lesson and - much to my surprise - it went really well. We did try a running martingale (I think) on him, which seemed to help with his head position, though it wasn't set to be too restrictive and he could have been responding more to day 3 of good workouts, too. We did a lot of long trotting, working on my hand position and posting - and "staying supple and alert" to use Peter's preference to "relaxed." With Bar, as with any horse, really, supple and alert is probably better.

Then Peter told me to take Bar up into a canter and I took a deep breath and did it. Okay, actually I held my breath while I asked Bar for a canter and was not particularly successful until I let the breath out and pushed him forward into hands that weren't trying to hold him back for a change.

And I did it.

I kept him at a nice and steady canter - apparently he has a big English canter, not a more sedate Western lope - and slowed him down easily when he would try to speed up in the straight-away, even brought him back down to a slow (for him) trot.

Steve says I was grinning, even.

And now I'm away from home, working our huge Web 2.0 Expo in San Francisco, really wishing I could get back on him and try again sooner than Saturday. The thing with horses, as I continually relearn, is that there is always a chance to go back and do it better. Of course, just like everything else, some days run a little smoother than others.

Learning curve

This was a challenging week in our horse world. Not entirely without flashes of hope - though on some occasions, it was merely the hope that one could stay in the saddle long enough to turn the ride around into something more positive than a rodeo session.

On Tuesday, I got to the barn after Steve - as usual - and saw a plume of dust rising from the outdoor arena. As I walked down the alley, I saw Steve and Lena flying - oh, yes, I mean flying - around the corner and one of our barn mates off her horse trying to blend into the rails of the arena and stay out of the way. I had apparently missed Steve running that bratty spotty horse into the fence to stop her. She had spooked because there were two women walking (leading, really) two horses along the bike trail and for whatever reason, Lena thought that was just too wacky for her to deal with. Or, more likely, she's in season and had herself all in a twist for no other reason than she was in the mood to have herself in a twist.

I decided not to ride that night, but did spend some time grooming Bar and talking to him, which he seemed to enjoy.

The next night, I did ride and Bar was not too terribly bad, but not too terribly good, either. He didn't really want to trot in circles, he wanted to eat and since it was feeding time, I can understand his point of view. I didn't give in to his point of view, but it was not the easiest ride we'd ever had.

Thursday night, he was at his worst. At the time, I wasn't really sure why, though I wondered if it was the new saddle pad combination I was trying, or maybe the neoprene cinch wearing away at his chest and sides. However, after my lesson today, I don't think so. (Though he did seem to be more comfortable in the mohair cinch we bought to replace the neoprene.)

When I say worst, I mean worst for me so far. He was fine letting me get on, calm at the walk, and went over the poles with no problems. The minute I asked him to trot, however, he tossed his head, danced sideways, bucked, backed up - basically found any way he could to not do what I was asking him to do. I did finally get him to trot circles for me in both directions, but it was all I could do to not scream in total frustration. I did manage to stay on throughout all his antics, which seemed to take him a little bit by surprise.

Sometimes it feels like we take two steps forward and seven steps back. By the time I got home Thursday, I was pretty disheartened and frustrated. After Steve rode Bar on Friday, he understood why and told Bar he was lucky I hadn't strangled him.

But then I rode Lena Friday afternoon and all of the things I've learned riding Bar, combined with having more confidence in Lena, gave us a really ride together. She was relaxed, I was relaxed, comfortable in the saddle, fluid through my hips and pelvis. She did try one minor spook, but all I did was check her with the (loose) reins and she focused her attention back to the task at hand.

So I thought about that some, about how my confidence level in Lena makes so much of a difference, and vowed to try to trust Bar a little more. I'm always a little on edge with him, waiting for his next antic, his next explosion. With her, I was in a better place with both my body and my mind, so all I had to do was let her know I was indeed paying attention - without panicking - and we could stay on track with our ride.

All that was before today's lesson, which reinforced all of that, plus gave me a few more tricks to use when he starts acting up and being stubborn. One of the things Peter said was, "Pretend to trust him, but still be alert and ready for him." It sounds contradictory, but it's not really. Part of my struggle with Bar is that I anticipate him blowing up, tense up, and feed into the blow up. I did the exact opposite with Lena and it stopped almost before it started.

In complete contrast, my lesson today was made more interesting by chainsaws and a wood chipper running on the bike trail somewhere, plus the mules next door running back and forth frantically. I knew Bar was paying attention to them, but during one of Bar's dances, Peter pointed out that Bar was less bothered by the noise of the chipper than I was; that I had tensed up in anticipation of Bar acting up, which led - naturally - to Bar acting up.

I need to channel some of the confidence I feel with Lena into my riding with Bar, as hard as that may be, because I've felt it make a difference. Not only with Lena, but when I'm riding him as well.

There are other things as well, like catching him and distracting him from acting up; not holding his head too tight and giving him an excuse to rear; keeping him moving forward and not letting him get away with refusal. (Which, by the way, is a new tactic for him.) Bar? Not go forward? Something must be wrong with him physically! No, actually, I think he just figured out that bolting forward didn't get him his way, so this was a new trick. Too bad for Bar, Peter knows that trick and taught me how to make it less profitable for Bar to balk than to continue moving forward. Circle, kick with the inside leg, let that outside rein go so I'm not somehow inadvertently (or subconsciously) telling him to stop, and once I get that forward motion, straighten him out and keep going.

So as frustrating as this week has been for me in some ways, I have learned a tremendous amount. Applying it may be tricky, but the balance between the two horses - and my own reaction to each of them - has opened a really important window for me, one that will no doubt continue to improve my riding if I allow myself to absorb the light that has come through it.

Horse listening

This may sound a little, oh, ethereal, but I'm listening to horses more. Talking to them more, too.

Now, I've always talked a lot to Lena and Bar; I even sing to them while riding sometimes. They are paying attention and I do try to stay on key, and it even improves the ride 9 times out of 10.

On Sunday, getting ready for my lesson, Bar was particularly stressed out. Granted, I am usually a little nervous before my lesson - no, I don't really know why - and he does pick up on that, but he was really having a hard time Sunday. Maybe it was because Steve didn't come with me and hadn't gotten Lena saddled up before-hand; maybe it was because it was breezy; maybe it was some weird horse dynamic I missed. Whatever it was, he was acting more agitated than I could see reason for.

I put him in the cross-ties, which he's gotten pretty comfortable with, and he started tossing his head, up and down, side to side, pulling against the restraints. This is way out of line from his normal behavior, which often includes shifting his rear end from side to side whenever I disappear into the tack room but settles out when I emerge with brushes.

I tried breathing with him, assuming my nervousness about the lesson was feeding his behavior - at least in part - and telling him, yes, I was nervous but I am always nervous and it wasn't anything to worry about. I hit some of the calming points I learned in my acupressure and massage class, too, but he could not relax and kept looking out the barn door towards Lena.

So I stopped for a second and just listened to him. And then I looked at him and asked him if he thought I was getting ready to take him away, get rid of him. He stopped tossing his head and looked at me. I hugged that big brown horse and told him he was stuck with me and we were just having a lesson, then went to get his saddle. Bar stood still after that and I got him saddled and led him down to the arena.

He did act up once we got in the arena and saw Bill and CD doing some reining spins, but his attitude was normal for who he is and what his life has been. I would think the only reasons racehorses spin around are not good ones. And with only minor disagreements, we got through our lesson and learned a lot in the process.

I know it sounds crazy that I think he understands me on some level, and I'm sure you could attribute his behavior to him just figuring something out in his own head and/or giving in.

But I saw the look in his eye, felt his relief in every pore of my body, saw the tension bleed out of him.

Sometimes, he makes me think of a foster kid, a kid who will try everything he knows to test you so you either send him back or you forge more love in your relationship. In both cases, it's a mixture of love and discipline.

He has to trust us, but we must prove ourselves worthy of his trust. We are getting there, and I'm loving (most) every minute of it.

New perspectives

I just started a book called The Tao of Equus by Linda Kohanov. It's a pretty interesting look at the horse-human relationship, though she focuses a lot on women and I know at least a few men that could relate to her insights.

While some of what she writes is a little out there -- though definitely not impossible -- what I like is the basic premise that horses are not stupid, that they are sentient and intelligent beings that not only can but do show us our selves in a safe and non-judgemental way.

I've referred to Lena (and Bar) as excellent bio-feedback, and acknowledged that you can't be elsewhere when dealing with horses. What I didn't always grasp was that "faking" emotions is not effective with horses. You can't breathe your way out of fear and expect your horse to believe you. Bar knows, with every inch of his intuitive Thoroughbred self, that no matter how evenly I'm trying to breathe, sometimes he truly scares me.

But he also knows when I'm relaxed and enjoying him for who he is, even when he spooks at what I think are silly things, and that I love what he brings to my life.

Lena takes a lot of this for granted, being the confident Alpha mare that she is. Yet even she breathes a little easier when I am careful to take the time to be sure I am truly with her and paying attention.

I suspect it is the difference in their upbringing as well as their general temperaments, but they both show me different parts of myself and both provide valuable insight and feedback. And I love them both for what they mirror back to me.

Morning greetings

One of my favorite parts of any day is getting to the barn and seeing this nose pointed at me, those big curly ears directed at my voice as I come up the path to the barn.

I know it's mostly because I bring food, but it still makes me smile every time I see her, hear her nicker at me, watch her pace her circle while she waits for me.

Every morning during the week, I stop on my way to work to see Lena and give her a scoop of grain. I also give each of her neighbors a bit of carrot. That means that they all perk up when they see me, of course.

While she snarfs the grain, I pet and talk to her - sometimes I even sing to her. If it's sunny, I stand in the sun, soaking in the warmth as the day starts. If it's raining, I stand with her under her shelter, listening to the sound of rain drumming on the tin roof. Yesterday, I moved her hay enough under the shelter so she could either stick her rear out in the rain or stay dry. I have no idea what she decided to do, since I had to go to work, but I am sure she did whatever suited her mood that morning.

After she eats her grain, we do carrot stretches. They help keep her flexible and that's a good thing. (Stretching is good for me, too, I just don't do it for carrots.)



Just like me, one side is more flexible than the other and some stretches are harder than others, but I've noticed more fluid movement since we started and she actually seems to sort of like it, though it's probably just the carrots.

Why spottyhorse.blogspot.com exists

This post actually stems both from the re-introduction of Katie D. and a question Mike (our new farrier) asked me.

When we bought Lena, we had absolutely no idea what we were getting into. Two weeks later, when we had to think about putting her down during a bad case of colic, we had a good idea.

My goal - which may be different than Katie's - was to share the good, bad, and ugly of life with horses. In my various searches for information on the web, I've found little bits of stuff scattered all over. We'd like to consolidate it and give folks a central place to find good - or at least tried once or twice - techniques, information, tips, tricks, etc.

Don't get me wrong, I love it. (Duh.) I can't imagine life without a horse in it and I am so glad to have Lena. But. It is a lot of work. It is a lot of dedication. It is a huge commitment of time and money. And it is a lot of risk.

In fact, I love every minute of it - even the scary ones - but if there was something I could impart to people thinking of buying a horse, it's that it is a big deal and you have to have time and energy and patience to put into it.

Do not enter it lightly, but if you are willing to invest, it reaps a reward beyond almost anything else I've ever done. (Parenting ranks slightly higher.) :-)

Back in the saddle again!

Despite the expression on Lena's face, we are all excited that Steve is back riding again.

Here is Steve riding, yay!


We rode in the arena yesterday and then went out today for a short trail ride. (Only two hours instead of our normal three.) Unfortunately, I left the camera at the barn so didn't document Steve's successful return to the trail.

Actually, it may be better that I didn't because Lena was not on her best behavior today. She was in one of her flighty moods and took off on Steve twice - once we think because his sweatshirt came loose and slid over her butt and once because he picked up his sweatshirt from where someone had nicely hung it on the sign by the parking area. I think it goes back to the blanket trauma, but it was unacceptable nonetheless. I guess we have more horse therapy in the near future.

Doc was on his best behavior, however, so that helped some. It's definitely better to have another horse there, particularly one who is generally calmer and more steady than Lena.

Steve thinks that she also just wanted to run, but of course that's still no excuse for bad behavior.

Luckily, Steve was able to stay with her and didn't re-injure himself. I think she looked a little embarrassed when I put the sweatshirt on Doc, then on me, and neither one of us got eaten, but I'm probably reading too much into her expression. Ha!