Horses get some non-arena time

We haven't been out since the yellow jacket incident, mainly because Katie has been too busy with a new job and Steve isn't quite ready for the road, yet. This has lead to a lot of work in the arena for both horses, and Bar has recently expressed a certain amount of boredom with the round pen. How does he express his displeasure? Not the way he used to--thankfully there is no longer any rearing--but by stopping at the top of the hill on our way down and looking at me like he really can't believe he has to work AGAIN.

I can always convince him to go along without too much effort, and his whole body is already in much better shape than it was, so the training is helping. We just have to get creative and toss in some different activities to keep things interesting. Since Lena could use some attention, too, an every-other-day schedule might work best anyway.


Yesterday there was no round pen, no boots, just his halter and a walk together down the road to the apple orchard. He is so curious about everything--patches of darker asphalt, gopher holes, short and stubby apple trees, and mules. The barn next door to ours backs right up to the bike path and several of their mules came over to say hello to Bar. He thought they were very fascinating creatures indeed and wanted to hang out and interview them further, but his human was melting.

Today, we headed down to the indoor arena while Steve and Lena worked in the outdoor arena. Bar was acting jumpy--though it could also have been his human acting jumpy--so we started with ground work in the round pen with his saddle on. The last time we tried this experiment, it was wholly unsuccessful, but it went much better this time. No bucking or trying to roll or freaking out because the stirrups were hitting him or the side of the round pen. In fact, he looked pretty comfortable.


Well, when he wasn't pretending to be a racehorse again anyway.


Though the plan was to do some slow work under saddle in the arena, going down the driveway and back to the orchard with Steve and Lena seemed like a better idea. Bar agreed completely.



So we went down the driveway, down the road, jumped the gully into the orchard (that was exciting), and went to visit the mules again.


Bar is very careful and concerned with his footing and the loose, often gopher-holed, ground in the orchard makes him a little nervous. But he picked his way through the apple trees out to the bike path and up behind our barn. When he realized he was looking up at our arena, you could almost hear him say, "Huh? I know that place!" We tried to go back in the back gate, but can't remember our combination, so with Steve a little weary and sore, the four of us walked back to the barn.


Not too bad a way to spend time with three of my favorite beings.

(Note to the one bicyclist who--unlike the many other cautious and respectful cyclists we met--zoomed up behind us with no warning: You're only lucky so long.)

A tale of two horses

Working with Bar to help him (and me) find his frame, seems to have produced lots of blurry pictures of both horses in the round pen. Lena shows such a good picture of where he needs to be, but her training, confirmation, and fitness level all support that.

He just hasn't had that in his life, but he has had good care and nutrition, and has learned a lot about trust, so we have a good place to start. Even if he does still look a lot like the "before" picture in the training books a lot of the time.



Riding both horses is very important, but the work from the ground with both horses really provides a good "snapshot" of where Bar is now and what the goal is. The progress is slow, but it is inching along. He leads with his toes on both front feet, something that may never be fully corrected considering his confirmation and injuries, but if he can get stronger and more balanced, it will be less of an issue.

Several of yesterday's shots were of his feet and legs to show the mechanics and, even at a trot, it's too fast to follow just yet. It made for some interesting and vaguely artistic shots, but really it helps gauge his progress inch by inch and movement by movement.



Working with both horses also reinforces just how different they are. Bar will trot around the round pen with minimal input until called into the circle. Lena Rey does fine until she is behind me, then she tries to stop and come in. She relaxes pretty quickly, but is then looking immediately for the release. Focusing energy on Bar makes him tense and worried, so sitting down in the middle of the round helps him come down a few notches, even as he continues to work. Lena (at least right now) requires constant input at some level or she decides it's time to stop and do something new. (More fun, in other words.)


He is willingly cantering in the round pen, now--better to the left than the right--but it is smoother and less of an argument than it was previously. For awhile, he would do it, but not for long and not without a lot of head tossing and breaking gait. He is still very resistant traveling to the right at any gait under saddle, so for now we are keeping it very slow until he trusts me not to make him do anything that will get him hurt--and until he trusts his own body enough to be there when he needs it.

Karen is coming out tomorrow to give him another massage and check his progress. His muscles seem to look better, and his neck looks and feels softer and less tight--hopefully Karen sees the same thing.

Meanwhile, Lena Rey--who already thinks Bar gets more than his fair share of attention--will surely be wondering when she will be getting her massage and spa treatment.

Horse thoughts and reflections

Winston Churchill once said, "There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man." He was right.


It's now been four years (a little more) since we became horse owners, which is making me reflect just a little bit on what that one decision has brought to my life. Sometimes I get so caught up in what I want to work on, or worrying about not giving one horse or the other (Lena primarily right now) enough attention, that I forget to just enjoy the gifts they bring every day.


Lena Rey taught us very quickly about the commitment it takes--and that sometimes hard decisions are necessary--when two weeks after we bought her, we thought we were going to have to put her down for a colic absolutely terrifying and heart-wrenching in its severity. She also taught all of us joy, that each person has a different and valuable perspective and a horse can benefit--and learn from--from multiple inputs. She can even tailor her mood and energy level to the rider in question at any given time. Lena is not easy, not by a long shot, but she is strong and healthy and confident and a blast to ride 9 days out of 10. She likes to play, and inventing games to entertain her is an exercise in creativity but one well worth doing. When you have her, you have all of her, but getting all of her is her best challenge to you the rider. And the gift when you get it? It's like being one with the elements.


Bar is his own element. Some days, I think it's Mercury. But as hard as he has been for me, he has gifted me with more than I ever would have imagined. He is an exercise in patience, which those who know me will tell you is NOT my strong suit. He is teaching me to be a horse trainer, not just a horse rider, and he does not always make my job easy. Okay, he never makes my job easy unless it's cuddling his big, brown head and scratching his ears.

Bar is not as confident as Lena, but that means that once he decided I was in charge, he would do anything I asked him to do to the best of his ability. With Lena, it always has to make sense. With Bar, if he tries--even if he messes it up--you have to give it to him because he really is doing his best to do what you want.

He's also not as balanced and strong as Lena, which naturally affects his confidence. He's been hurt badly in his life, doing what people told him to do, doing what he thought was his job. He protects his body the best way he can, just as I do with my old injuries, even if that sometimes means I'm carrying my body in a way that isn't as strong as it could be.

My job, as his owner, as his trainer, is to help him be physically strong enough to do the jobs I ask him to do, wherever I ask him to do them. On the trail, he's great--sure-footed, confident, relaxed. The arena poses other issues--his trust level is much higher on the trail than in the arena--and I think I'm turning that around slowly but surely. Back to the art of extreme patience.


For all of us, it's not just the physical aspect, though that's important. It's the connection we make to a creature very nearly our polar opposite and the perspective shift that entails.

Turns you inside out sometimes, but what a glorious ride it is.

More on collection

While Steve was riding Lena and I was trying not to hover, Bar and I worked some more on his body position in the round pen.

I have noticed he is less relaxed going to the right, with the bowed tendon leg on the inside of the circle. He is also a bit shorter on the right side, and I'm sure it's all connected. Just have to keep working and keep stretching.

BUT, we are making progress. The first series (again, sorry for the blurriness/graininess--it's really hard to take a good picture in the indoor arena) is Bar going to the left. You can see he has good extension, even with his head all up in the air, but I'm starting to really be able to see when the engagement starts to happen much better.



Here is a bit more engagement happening:



Now to the right, where it takes him a lot longer to relax and get into the groove of things:



And a tiny bit of improvement, including his tongue sticking out--which means there was licking and chewing--a sign he was relaxing:



Then we had to stop because Peter came in to lunge another horse, but I do feel like we're getting here, albeit on the slow-but-sure path.

Back in the saddle

Steve announced to me last night that he was going to ride his horse today, and I admit to a tiny bit of anxiety on my part.

Maybe more than a tiny bit--it's only been a month since the accident, after all.

But life, as some of us know, is too short not to live and Steve really missed riding his horse. I had to trust that he did indeed feel well enough to get back on Lena and ride. I also have a lot of faith in Lena's sensitivity to her rider

So, off to the barn we went, and it all turned out okay.



I had to stop watching and go work Bar, lest my own anxiety eat me alive and become too obvious to either the horses or Steve. Okay, they all knew anyway, but at least I didn't hover.

Learning collection

Horse people talk a lot about collection--what it means and how to get your horse there. I've had advice that ranged from what bit to use, to driving the horse up into my hands, to suggestions to use a tie-down, etc.

When Katie was taking riding lessons and showing Western Pleasure, I remember her coach talking about collection and getting the horse's head down into the proscribed position. Back then, it made absolutely no sense, but even now--after watching other horses, having lessons, talking about it in classes, reading about it, and watching horse training videos--it was all just vague concepts. I could feel when both horses had it, just as I could feel when they didn't, but I never felt like I knew how to teach it to the horse--particularly Bar--until Karen evaluated him. She gave me explanations that made sense and visual cues to watch for that would help me make sure Bar and I were headed the right direction.

Collection, being in the frame, or traveling through is not just about your horse having their head in a particular position and their rear foot landing in or past the hoof print of the fore foot on the same side. It's about a horse using the ring of muscles--from poll, down the neck and topline, around the hind end, and underneath to the belly muscles--to drive themselves forward in a balanced and strong way. Just like humans need strong core muscles and good posture, so do horses. It includes a mental piece, too--getting a horse relaxed gets them to that proper frame faster.

Bar has a very long stride and manages the rear-footprint-into-front-footprint without hardly trying. However, his hind end is not often connected to his front end and he does not relax well most of the time to get the circle of muscle to come into play.

Karen told me several things to look for, starting with what would signal relaxation, and then what would mean he was "traveling through," and it finally clicked for me. I've been working off that for the last two weeks, using it with both horses, and getting wonderful visual examples from Lena of where I want Bar to be. The hardest thing for me--as always--is patience and giving him time to get there.

Ideally, we're working at a relatively quick trot, and as they get into a zone, you'll see muscle groups start to relax and vibrate or bounce--over the ribcage, in front of the hip, and the big muscle at the front of the neck. Licking and chewing are also great signs of a horse relaxing, and a nice lift to the tail is also a good sign. Finally, you want that head to drop and the horse to reach out with the nose and open the poll, maybe blow a little, too.

Bar is not quite there, yet--except at the walk--but he is closer than he was two weeks ago. Lena has provided me with some great visuals of where I want him to be, though she isn't always there, either.

Here's Bar at a walk, nose extended out, nice reach in his neck, long stride, etc.:



And here he is at his normal trot--this is actually relaxed somewhat, notice the tail position and (though you can't see it) the muscles are mostly bouncing nicely. (His trot pictures are all blurry, but you can see position well enough for what I'm trying to describe.)



And here is Lena in a very tense, heads-up trot, just so you all know she's not really perfect, either:



And here is Bar a tiny bit better--I know it may be tough to see, but I'm going for that 1% Ike talked about (go for 1% improvement every day and your horse will be 100% better in 100 days) and it's there:



With Lena, who was trained to drive with that hind end and be collected, you can do the normal tricks under saddle--drive her up into the bit, bump her head, jiggle the bit back and forth--and (usually, anyway) she'll respond and get into frame.

Bar doesn't know any of that. You pick up his face and push him into that bit and he objects or runs off. Tie downs and other methods just seemed to aggravate the situation so I stopped using them. Unfortunately, I didn't replace those methods with something that would work for him and that wasn't what he needed, either.

Now I have a place to start that gives both of us a frame of reference so when I ask for it under saddle, we each have that basic concept to work with.

Sometimes it feels like baby steps, but I go back to Ike's 1% and remember it's all about the process and what we learn together. And Bar and I have both learned a lot, that's for sure.

Trail riding adventures wherein Bar impresses Katie

Katie and I took the horses out to Armstrong Redwoods again and ended up having quite a bit more adventure and challenge than we anticipated. And at the end of it all, Katie admitted Bar had both impressed her and gained a level of trust with her none of us quite expected.

We headed up East Ridge trail, like Steve and I had before, but instead of turning around at the bridge and fire road, Katie and I kept heading up the trail. It was a beautiful day and the horses were feeling strong and healthy. We did stop to let Bar rest a little, but he seemed pretty happy and nothing seemed to be bothering him except not being in front.



We got to the top of the ridge and had a spectacular view all the way down to the coast. We kept going up the trail a little ways, found a nice redwood grove (which Lena fertilized), and Katie and I were enjoying the sun, the horses, and the trail immensely.



We got to a narrow spot on the trail that had a trickle of water and some mud and Lena balked a little bit over the scary mud, so Katie had to work with her to get her to go forward. All of a sudden, Bar dropped his head down and started rubbing his face on his front legs and tossing his head up and down. I looked down and saw a swarm of yellow jackets flying around his head, going for his eyes and nostrils. I looked up at Katie and Lena, still in front of us on the trail, and said "Go!!" Katie looked at me a little confused, hesitated for only a split second, then urged Lena up the trail. We kept moving, me talking to Bar the whole time, until we were well past the nest and I could get off and check him out. Katie said she saw him rubbing his head on a tree, then tossing his head, and thought he had gotten his bridle caught on something. When I told her to "go" she couldn't figure out what was going on--knowing Bar hates to have Lena too far away from him--but recognized the insistence in my tone of voice and responded.

It could have been a train wreck. Bar and Lena both could have taken off up that narrow trail at a gallop, not paying any attention to either of us. But they didn't. He heard me the whole time, reacting to both my voice and my body, and stopping as soon as Katie and I felt like we were a safe enough distance away to check him out and figure out what to do next. I'd gotten stung, too, but just once, and had watched one yellow jacket work its way out of Bar's mane as we trotted up the trail to safety. Ugh.

Going back the way we came wasn't really an option, so we headed up the trail and ended up at the Bullfrog Pond campground, with what looked like a paved road as our only way down again. So, as a ranger drove by, I stopped and asked if there was another way and she recommended East Pool Trail, so we headed down the road with me walking Bar and Katie riding Lena, until we found the trail head. Which was downhill off the road. With steep stairs and steep slopes next to the stairs. Not to mention horses and riders that were already pretty tired.

But, what goes up must come down, so down we headed, on one of the most challenging trails I've been on. This trail would have been tough for me as a seasoned hiker, let alone an ex-racehorse still working on his downhill trail skills. It was was steep, narrow, and slippery in places. There were waterbars across the trail with foot-high drops to negotiate. It might not have been so bad coming up the trail, especially when we were all fresher, but it is definitely not your run-of-the mill trail in either direction. Downhill being tougher for horses than up, however, the difficulty was definitely ratcheted up a few nerve-wracking levels. Maybe seven.

And it wasn't just physically challenging, there were mental hurdles to get past, too. We got to a switchback over what is probably a creek in the rainy season which not only had a bridge (well, planks over the gully), but also had yellow caution tape to keep you on the narrow bridge. Katie and I both took a deep breath. Lena hates yellow caution tape. Katie had to use a little extra encouragement to get Lena over it (spurs, that is), but over she went, snorting the whole way, with Bar right behind her.

Did Bar get grumpy? Did he rush or do anything that made our journey more dangerous? Nope. He carefully negotiated every obstacle and kept going, one foot in front of the other. Every now and then he'd slip--they both did--and he'd stop for a second to make sure his long legs were still firmly underneath him before moving forward again.

Finally, though, the length and strain of the ride started to take their toll on him and he started to stumble a little more than I was comfortable with so I got off and walked next to him the rest of the way down. I noticed he was favoring his right hind, too, like he had a hitch in his hip, so he and I took it nice and slow down to the picnic area. He got to see me slip and slide a couple of times, too. Definitely not an easy trail for horse or human.



But we made it. And both horses performed above and beyond what we've ever asked them to do before on one of the most challenging trails we've ever been on.

Best of all, Katie agreed that Bar is not as crazy as she thought he was. At least not on the trail. He impressed her, and that's hard to do.

I am just glad we all made it through--even if some of us are a little sore today-- and that I got to experience such an interesting adventure with my horses and my daughter.

Life is pretty good, I'd say.

What do you mean "time to go to work?"

What do you mean "time to go to work?"
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

Can't you see there's grain in here?

Please to give carrots to starving horses?

Please to give carrots to starving horses?
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

The Nose.

Sunday with Katie, Lena, and Bar

Katie dusted off our cutting saddle--says she's used to them now--and got on Lena today. Katie was working on her seat, Lena was just glad to be out again (I rode her yesterday) after two weeks of the round pen.

I didn't get to watch much of her ride, though she says it was good and she spent a lot of time working on her seat using tips Ike and Cheri gave her over the last month. It's just really good to see her in the saddle again, and good for Lena, too.

I worked with Bar in the round pen using some of the tips Karen gave me to improve his fitness level. He has not been using his hind end enough, either because he was sore, or just because he was never trained to get into the frame that gets him to use his whole circle of muscles, or both. The idea is to get him into that frame and relaxed on the ground so it's easier to get him into it while under saddle. He is not, as you may guess, always relaxed about things. A tense horse is (generally) not working his body in the right way, not using the whole ring of muscle to propel himself forward from his hindquarters. That can lead to back soreness and injuries, and in Bar's case, he is also relying too much on that front end which creates a higher risk of stumbling over his own font feet.

Just like my chiropractor tells me, using the core muscles protects your back and it's important to keep them strong and supple. In the case of a horse, it keeps them balanced. Traveling through (I think this is the term, but please forgive me if I'm wrong) basically means that the horse is engaged from the poll, down the topline (neck, back), over the hindquarters, and around through the abdominal muscles, allowing him to drive from the hind end.

We are getting Bar much closer, and we're even getting there some of the time, but it will take patience and more work from both of us. That's okay, because I can already see an improvement in his body (and his brain, too), particularly in his topline, his range of movement, and his level of relaxation. I really appreciate Karen's knowledge of the bio-mechanics of how he needs to move and her help in showing us what to look for as we work.

Steve is also getting healed, though rather slower than he would like. We also ordered not-quite-matching helmets for our brains.

Start with the head and work back

Start with the head and work back
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

Bar got another excellent massage from our friend Karen McDonald this morning. He was much more relaxed this time and Karen didn't have to chase him quite as much.

More later, I learned a lot about him today.

Mutual injury inspection

Mutual injury inspection
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

Steve's first excursion to the barn since "the incident" went well and both horses were glad to see him. They also think the sling would bean excellent way to carry a sufficient number of carrots.

Healing human and horse

It turns out both Steve and Bar are in for some healing and rehabilitation, though I'm trying to not feel like a terrible horse-mom for not noticing Bar's injuries earlier. He banged his shoulder up, too, which I didn't catch until I had my vet and farrier out yesterday for an evaluation.

I have been a little preoccupied, though.

Steve is home and healing well, though not as quickly as he might like. His right shoulder is nicely ringed with a chartreuse bruise and the top of the shoulder has some dark purple mixed in. Picture some of the mottled Star Trek alien skin make-up and that's pretty close.

The dizziness and vertigo are nearly gone most of the time, but he's still taking it pretty easy right now. When he's ready to drive, he'll have to drive the big truck because it's the only automatic we have and shifting will have to wait for at least another few days.

Now that he's home, I'm hoping to get myself back into the normal barn routine (at least somewhat), and take some time to get Bar healed up, too.

I had Dr. Leslie the vet and Mike the farrier out yesterday to do an evaluation on Bar to make sure there were no structural, physical, or neurological reasons for his tripping. We ruled out his feet, which are in good shape, and then Leslie pointed out that his shoulder where he fell was pretty swollen. I of course fell into a little puddle of guilt, especially since I worked him in the round pen (not hard) the other day. I knew he was sore, but missed the swelling. Poor guy. I can't believe he actually did any work for me, and pretty much without complaining. He's a little bit of a stoic when it comes to pain, unlike his friend Lena the drama queen.

It was nearly impossible to fairly judge whether there was any front-end lameness since he was obviously compromised with the shoulder, but Leslie had also noticed some atrophy on his hind end so we did a Flexion test on his hocks. She held his rear leg up against his belly for over a minute on each side, then on a count of three let it down and I trotted him off while she and Mike watched. The first side he bounced forward instead of trotting, but it was still obvious he was sore. I can't believe how patient he was--especially we went back after the first side and picked up the other hind leg. He went along with me, though it was very clear he was hurting and grumpy about all this. He stomped a couple of times in frustration, but still did everything I asked of him. Leslie commented again the difference in him since we first got him. I told her it was because he loves me. Ha!

The verdict is that there is some lameness in the back end--his hocks--but it's not irreparable. That makes him not use his hindquarters enough and his front end too much. With the bowed tendon leg--which is a little over at the knee also--that's a recipe for the tripping. However, Leslie thinks with some Glucosamine and rest, he'll be fine for what we do with him. I'm also having Karen come out on Tuesday morning to give Bar a massage and evaluation. She gives me good, practical advice and has rehabilitated several horses, so should be able to give me some training and exercise tips, too.

I'm very glad there isn't any neurological issue, though I wasn't actually too worried about it. He does know where his feet are and has good strength in his hind end--he was able to resist Leslie pulling on his tail from each side quite effectively. He did look at me out of his one eye as if to say, "What is that weird woman doing back there?" a few times, though.

I'm sure if I think about it, there were signs he was having pain. And I could beat myself up about it, but that won't serve any good purpose. The best thing to do is go forward and help him build up his strength and flexibility, and for us to have fun doing it. My own focus on maintaining my own physical condition despite various aches and pains--knowing it's much better to keep moving--gives me a pretty good perspective on what he needs.

Yes, folks, riding horses can be risky

We all know this, or we think we know it, and then sometimes it smacks us right in the face. Or in Steve's case, the shoulder.

Saturday, after I bought the cutest white Miata in the world and went to show it to my dad, I got home, Steve and I went to a late lunch at Sushi Hana, then to the barn to ride. I have not let Steve ride Bar in a really long time and decided I was going to let go of my control-freakiness and allow it and just see what happened.

Poo happened, but not because Bar was acting up at all. In fact, he was being really good, really responsive and cooperative, and things were going along really well--plus I was having a great ride on Lena.

I was by the gate of the big outdoor arena and turned around just in time to see Bar and Steve turn, trip, and go down in a big puff of dust. Bar got up and immediately came over to Lena and me. I got her settled down, heard Bill settling his horse down, got off Lena, and turned around to see Steve lying prone on the ground on his back, not moving. Bill got off his horse and called out for help and headed out of the arena. I got our two horses calmed down and called to Steve, who was laying way too still.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he started to sit up and the three of us headed over there. The horses started to bicker and I backed them both up and told them in uncertain terms that it was not the time for that and they settled immediately. When we got over to Steve, they both wanted to get in closer to see why he was on the ground, but I wouldn't let them. There was someone there, a friend of one of the boarders, who was a nurse and she came out and checked him out. He fell on his right shoulder and was really sore there, but it didn't seem like anything was broken because he could move his arm and squeeze his hand.

Carlyne and Bill came to help with my horses at that point, so I let Carlyne take Lena and I took Bar up to put them away. Bill and the nurse and several other people stayed with Steve, who managed to be on his feet when the ambulance and firetrucks got there. (Thank you, Forestville Fire Department!)

Steve was coherent, though a little out of it and obviously in pain, and didn't want to go the hospital, so he and I went home. His first question to me? "How is Bar?" Bar seemed to be fine, though Steve was really disappointed that this had to happen while things were going so well in the arena.



Once we got home, he alternated between resting prone and upright until about 9:30, and then he tried to get up and threw up. Hm. I checked his pupils, and they were fine. He was tracking well with both eyes and said his head didn't hurt, he was just really dizzy. Did he want to go to the hospital, yet? No.

So we slept on the sofa, both of us, me waking up to check on him periodically and help him with blankets and pillow angles, until the next morning when he could not get up at all--even to go to the bathroom--because his vertigo was so bad.

He had me call the ambulance and the first crew to show up was our guys from Forestville again. They didn't lecture him, and in fact say it is very common--particularly with men (no offense, guys)--to get a second call in a case like this.

So Steve and I spent all day yesterday in Kaiser's ER, then they finally admitted him because he still couldn't sit up, let alone get into a car. He's still there and they did find a vertigo medicine that seems to be working, though he's still pretty shaky and hasn't tried to stand up, yet.

The vertigo is what's keeping him there, and it's probably caused by a mild concussion. He had a CT scan and his brain is fine, no bleeding or issues there, which is obviously very good news. He did manage to fracture his scapula, four ribs, and his collar bone. One of the nurses told him "nice job" today. He won't take any pain meds, though, because he says it doesn't hurt that badly unless he coughs or sneezes, and because most of the normal meds make him too sick and he doesn't figure that's a good idea at the moment.

The lesson is two-fold. Anything can happen, even on a good day, and going to the hospital initially might have been a good plan. But.. hindsight, as they say, is 20-20.

Since Steve is my editor, he isn't here to point out typos or where things could be worded smoother, so I apologize if this post isn't as clear as usual. I'm also eating grilled cheese for dinner because, well, it's about all I know how to cook.

And I miss him, but am glad he seems to be on the mend and really glad it wasn't more serious.

AND--thank you to Randee for the iPhone photo documentation on top of calling 911!

Pre-trail ride prep and pestering

Pre-trail ride prep and pestering
Originally uploaded by spottyhorse67

Jessica Boyd

Training and trail riding do go together

As I said last night, we had a great ride yesterday. It made up for a little frustration I had with Bar earlier in the week (which I will post about separately), and proved to us that the patience training we did the other day was a really good plan.

Ike sent me a training tip through Katie - "Go for 1% improvement every day and in 100 days, Bar will be perfect." I'm not sure about perfect, ever, but it's a good, realistic way to look at horses and their timelines--which may not always coincide with our timelines. Horses are an investment, and the financial part is really the minor piece of the pie. What I tell people when they ask about having horses is that it is a time and energy commitment you have to be willing to make if you want a good experience. Just showing up now and then to ride may work with some horses, but ours need a little more than that.

Yesterday gave us all some tangible results from the work we've been doing, though Lena made us wonder right after we loaded her yesterday. We got her in, then loaded Bar, and suddenly she was scrambling in her compartment. She had her right rear leg at a weird angle, presumably because she had begun to push her hip into the divider and lost her balance. It was loud and scary, and I started to back Bar out--who was being absolutely calm and wonderful, I might add--but Steve held the door closed behind us and told me to wait a second and be patient (!) and sure enough, she got herself steadied. Luckily, we had used the fly boots Cheri suggested and they kept Lena from banging up her fetlocks like she's done before. Those will become a permanent item in the trailer.



Then we were off! She pawed once or twice, but settled down as we got rolling. But we only rolled as far as the hardware store as you approach Guerneville before traffic stopped. Uh oh. Summer traffic through Guerneville is always bad and had we left earlier, we would probably have been okay. But at noon, it was stop and go for at least a half an hour. I started to get antsy, couldn't think that all this stillness was good with our two horses back there, but.. there was hardly a shuffle.

We got to the park, pulled in and parked in the picnic area and unloaded the horses, tacked them up, and headed up the trail. Bar was more nervous about Lena getting out of site than he has been recently, but it was a new place for him and there was a lot going on with picnickers, Frisbee games, and lots and lots of cars and humans. He actually mellowed quite a bit once we got on the trail. He took the lead going uphill, but preferred her in front going downhill.

We had hesitation from Lena going over the bridges, but she did eventually go, lifting up her big feet ever so daintily at the hollow sound underneath her. Then there was the scary turkey making rustling noises in the bushes. I assured them that if it really was a mountain lion, we wouldn't hear it. Both horses were really paying attention and being careful with their footing, through some very tricky terrain.

Then the big test. Stopping for lunch, which meant tying them up and not hovering. Bar was himself for a little while--my apologies to the tree:



Amazingly,he did eventually settle down:



Lena settled down almost immediately and just watched the hikers come down the hill. Even I settled down long enough to eat, which is a minor miracle.



So all in all, an awesome day. I even left Bar tied up alone to the truck and trailer while I took the saddles and tack back up to our barn after we got home. Not sure if that's a bigger milestone for him or for me, but I'll take it either way.

Might have even gotten 3% yesterday, if I were to call it.

He really is a trail horse

I have so much to write and I'm too tired and too much in need of the hot tub to write it all.

We had a great trail ride today in one of our wonderful California State Parks -- Armstrong Redwoods.

Both horses handled traffic, picnickers, and Frisbees, all before we got to the tricky and difficult terrain.

Super proud of both of them and I promise there are more details forthcoming. Just too tired to put good sentences together right now.

Working with Bar

When Steve and I were up at Slide, Ike and Cheri were interested in hearing about Bar and how things were going with him. Cheri admitted to being worried about me because racehorses can have such interesting issues when it comes to retraining.

Don't I know it.

We talked a lot about some of our challenges, and also about how great he is on the trail. Ike got that trainer gleam in his eye and commented that it sounded like Bar had pressure issues in the arena.

Hm.

So I've spent the two weeks since we got back watching Bar and his reactions as I ask him for different things, both from the ground and from his back. I'm also paying attention to my own body and my own reactions to see how it all fits together.

In the round pen, with me on the ground, he's easy. Direction changes, gait changes, yielding, everything I ask for he gives pretty willingly. Bareback, with just the halter, at a walk, same thing.

I took him out in the outdoor arena on an extra-long lead rope (two tied together, actually) and could not get him to go around me at anything but a walk. Now, he goes around me fine in the round pen with no lead line, but he pulled back and backed away from me when we tried it on the line in the big arena. I could, however, point him at any obstacle and he'd go over or around it with me driving him softly with no problem whatsoever.

Hm, again.

Peter says Bar just knows what he can get away with, but I'm not sure that's it. My boy acts scared, or at least un-confident--eyes wide and ears up as he backs away from me trying to figure out what on earth it is I'm asking.

Going back to what Ike said about arena pressure, I have been trying to come up with ways to set the arena (just indoor for now) up as a non-threatening place. We walk around, we go over obstacles, we stop and sometimes listen to the things going on outside the arena and I keep a running, hopefully soothing, dialog and rub his neck as we go about our work.

I am also trying hard to relax and go with him when he starts to dance instead of picking up his head hard and grabbing with my knees. I figure that the past behavior of spinning him and matching his freak out with my own probably did not lend itself to making the arena seem like a safe place.

Friday, he tripped and went down to his knees while I was riding and then pushed up and danced around in a circle. I dropped my butt down in the saddle and talked him through it, then went back to walking the arena. The first loop back around, he avoided that spot in the arena like it was the corner's fault he tripped. I just kept edging him closer and closer each lap until he dropped his head and relaxed his ears through the "danger zone." The very last thing I did was ask him for a lap at the trot and he gave it to me without bolting and I called it good for the night.

I have no idea what I'm doing, whether it's right, wrong, enough pressure, or not enough. I just know that this horse is different than Lena. He will go through things, over things, under things, for me just because I ask him to. He'll even do things Lena won't, simply because he trusts me to take care of him.

It has taken me a long time to earn that trust on the ground, and now I have to re-earn it from the saddle. I don't know if I had his trust or more of confidence in myself, once, but whichever, the saddle is our pivot point.

It's not rocket science, but it is a study in patience and psychology. I know I can get there with him, and that's not a statement I was always confident enough to make.

So maybe he's retraining me as much as I'm retraining him.

Text messages from Slide

Katie has been sporadically texting me from Slide, where she is having a great time and learning a lot. I wanted to share some of her messages to me.

Day one, 7:19 p.m.:
I'm having so much fun! I'm riding Mia and I'm getting on Starbucks later on. Cell service is weird... Love you!

9:58 p.m.
I went on a night time trail ride with Ike it was so cool! But kinda scary since I couldn't see very well.

1:28 p.m. 7/8:
I forgot to tell you that I'm teaching starbucks to do flying lead changes :) love you!!

7:57 p.m, 7/8:
I just rode Pepper. I'm pretty sure he's a tank and not a horse.

12:22 p.m., 7/9:
I'm having cutting lessons with starbucks and pepper! They're pretty fun :) love you!!!!

Then, from on top of a horse on top of the mountain, she posted this photo and comment. Love it.

Katie update from Slide Mountain

Being a parent is sometimes really hard, and watching your kid go off on their first big solo adventure is both awesome and mildly terrifying. Now, I've had a lot of practice being separated from Katie, but something is really different this time.

Steve asked me why I was so uptight about all this and I think it's just not being there to watch this stage of her life, so feeling a little left out of it for really the first time. Before, I could always be a little more involved, though I often chose not to. (I'm really no good at Prom preparations, etc., just ask Katie.)

This time, I really have to step back and let her find her own way through it, even though I want to hear every little thing about what she's doing, learning, finding along the way.

I did get several updates, though, and know she's having a blast up there. She had already worked two of their cutting horses yesterday by noon, then rode Starbucks--a mare Cheri wants her to work with--later that afternoon. The last update I got, she had gone out on a night trail ride with Ike.

This will be an experience she will remember her whole life and I'm beyond glad she gets to be out there doing it--as well as so amazingly proud of the young woman she has become.

Just maybe feeling a little of that wistful "my baby's grown up" thing. Just a smidge. Guess I better get over it, huh?