Horsegirl on a Journey

November 20, 2009

I know what I know I’ll sing what I said we come and we go that’s a thing that I keep in the back of my head

Filed under: Love — horsegirlonajourney @ 11:01 pm

All I pay my psychiatrist is the cost of feed and hay, and he’ll listen to me any day ~ Old Saw

Suddenly overcome with the sadness (it doesn’t matter why), I sank down to a cavaletti before I fell down. We had been just hanging out in the arena, getting reacquainted after my intense workweek, playing a few Liberty games here and there.

I was curled tight down into myself, already checked out, and then this velvet softness brushed against my head. I grunted but couldn’t move and then he did it again, lips busily inspecting my hair.  I looked up and smiled at him, through tears, and told him he was an awesome horse, which of course set me off again. Sob sniffle sob sob sniffle.

He flicked an ear at me, then walked around me, stepping daintily over the cavaletti. For a horse who does not seem to know where his feet are — who had been trapped twice already with his foot between the two pedestals — he lifted them high and set them down gently.

I whispered “good job” but was unable to stop crying, so I put my face back down in my arms where he wouldn’t see.

Nudge. He pushed his nose against my back, hard enough that I swayed forward, but not enough to hurt. Nudge. NUDGE.

Yup. He kept nudging, not hard but insistent, with rhythm (hrm, how interesting!), until I actually got to my feet and stood all the way up. Then he stepped forward, put me at his left shoulder, blew gently out his nose, and gave me the “let’s do something fun” eye.

Who am I to blow against the wind?

I squared my shoulders and smiled and said okay, and we played in a relaxed and libertyesque manner, and it was good.

My horse’s feet are as swift as rolling thunder
He carries me away from all my fears
And when the world threatens to fall asunder
His mane is there to wipe away my tears.
~Bonnie Lewis

At the very end, I put a halter and rein on him just for my own psychological need and climbed up onto his furry warm naked bony back, and sat there, trying to relax everything and just fluidly move with him across the arena to lick rails on the other side. I breathed deeply and pushed my weight back to balance as I leaned forward and hugged him.

Good boy.

November 11, 2009

Salsa seems to be half pony half horse

Filed under: Love — horsegirlonajourney @ 3:24 pm

I went to the Parelli Savvy Club forum today to ask for opinions on Salsa’s ethnicity and got great responses! Also it drew the mini/pony people into the thread so now I have more contacts specific to Salsa.

His Shetland qualities include the sturdy frame, the double coat, and the “general air of vitality (presence), stamina and robustness” characteristic of the breed.

His Mini qualities include his Appaloosa coloring and I think despite having a sturdy frame, his head and feet are smaller than the original Shetlands (vs the sleek, refined American Shetlands which don’t look like Shetlands at all to me).

I ordered a blanket for him the other day and according to the measuring tape, he’s 9.1 to 10 hands high, about 350 pounds, and 52 inches from center of chest to center of buttcrack.

Cute pony!

 

November 10, 2009

Liberty is all about the draw

Filed under: Liberty — horsegirlonajourney @ 10:08 pm

With Rock, I practiced “sending with draw” tonight and sort of got the hang of how it works. I tried to keep the right balance of intensity, rest, variety, and mosey. And I kept to my re-instated policy of no cookies if you’re frisking me for them, no cookies for easy stuff, and yes cookies if you stand parallel to the fence and stay there while I rest my legs on you. At one point while I had a leg on him he began to paw vigorously. I have no idea if it was frustration at not getting 15 more cookies or if it was an invitation to get on his back — kind of a “get on already and let’s go do something” impatience.

I wanted to slide onto him at that point, but something held me back. Not fear. But anxiety. I don’t think he would bolt or buck or rear, as he’s never done any of those things with me on him, and in fact even if he spooks, he spooks in place first. He has always taken care of me when I’m on him. In fact, once when I started to slip, he shrugged me back into the saddle.

Sticky

Yet, tonight, I realized that I didn’t trust him! How can I expect him to trust me, if I don’t trust him?  My hesitation was more that I’m not sure if I would hurt him, as he has no muscle tone in his back, and his front feet are (as usual) a bit off. And yet, I did not trust him to let me know simply by wincing. I felt like I had no idea how he would react, if I eased myself up there and accidentally prodded his tender spots.

I sat there on the fence panel for a long time, while he stood parallel and licked the railings in that meditative way that he does. What did I really think he would do? Worst case, couldn’t I just slide off? (Maybe not easily, in those full-seat Polartec breeches.) In all the time I’ve been developing this partnership, he has never done anything that threatened my safety. Ever. Even on The Walk, even once long ago when we were brand new and he was terrified of a tractor, he was aware of where I stood and did not run over or through me.

I wonder what he was thinking about while he massaged his tongue on the rails and while I thought deeply about trust.

When I brought Salsa in to play with figure 8 and our first level 2 touch-it, Rocky did not want to relinquish the pedestal. I had to drive him away three times before he stayed at a safe distance. (The look on his face was priceless, too.  “That’s MY platform!”)

Salsa did the figure 8 just fine, even with the cavaletti in the middle, all of 10 inches high. He also caught on real fast that pawing the pedestal doesn’t count but getting two feet on it does.

I risked allowing Rocky to step up there too, with me between them, and then I drove them both off.

I experimented some more with encouraging their ideas (“you wanna go that way? great! go that way faster!”) and with Rocky, sending with some draw in my aura; if I got even a quarter circle with the bend in his body and his facial expression saying “when do I get to come in?” I invited him in. And when he went out a little wider and a little wilder and didn’t look at me, I kept my energy up to move him until he did look at which point I instantly relaxed into friendly invitation — and he came in, all three times. By the end of our session he managed almost a complete circle with good focus on me and not breaking gait. I was so proud, especially as we were in the covered arena (too big but with sodium vapor lights), not the round pen (right size but pitch black).

A truth about fear as an adult novice

Filed under: Learning Experience — horsegirlonajourney @ 9:34 pm

Children can be fearless because they’re typically focused on horses and having fun; they really don’t know or understand what can happen. Adults tend to be more fearful because they do know and they do understand what can happen. There’s a big difference between a child thinking, “If I fall off I’ll get dirty” and an adult “If I fall off I could become seriously injured and have expensive medical bills and be unable to work and lose my job and have to give up my horse.”
~ Dr. Jessica Jahiel, Riding Instructor Magazine, Winter 2008-2009

I was always afraid even as a child. Now I know it’s because I was leaning forward and therefore always off balance and therefore insecure and therefore afraid. All I had to do was hold up my head, look where I was going, open my  hips, and sit deep in the saddle, but of course, I didn’t know how and if my instructors were trying to teach me to do it I couldn’t comprehend through the fog of fear.

But my fear then truly was “oh no I could fall off and then the instructor will be disappointed in me or maybe even mad.” I probably also worried about getting hurt, but I know the fear of disappointing the adult by not achieving was stronger than the fear of physical pain.

Now, though, this quote describes it perfectly. Small thing to medium thing to large thing, and the whole trail of things strung together between one heartbeat and the next. And yet each one of those things is true. And I’m self-employed, so while I do have health insurance, I do not have sick days or vacation days to use while I’m recovering. I had enough emergencies in the past two years that my emergency fund (and, alas, my emergency credit line) are stretched too.

I literally cannot afford to get hurt.

But I’m not afraid anymore, either.

Location-based relationships

Filed under: Leadership, Learning Experience — horsegirlonajourney @ 11:32 am

Sometimes I wonder if Rocky and I are the home-bound equivalent of a vacation romance. Here on the ranch he mostly asks me questions and is happy to see me and willing to follow my suggestions. But once we cross the road to go for The Walk, everything changes.rock-looking-at-field

The entire experience was positive for us both in the sense of every program has to start somewhere. Learning that he doesn’t even think to look at me when we’re out of the comfort zone, much less allow my own calm to ease his mind and calm him,  just means a chance to learn more horsemanship skills to deal with them appropriately.

Either that or my own calm was helping and that’s why he never once bolted or reared or jumped into my arms or retreated into a comatose state.

What I need to ask in my next lesson:

  • Am I shoving him off cliffs with my approaches to various thresholds or am I respecting the thresholds and helping him gain confidence?
  • How much can I allow him to eat of the grasses and plants along the way without making him sick?
  • How can I be more effective about enforcing the rule of walking behind me (knowing that Rocky spent 7 years being taught to put the human in Zone 2 before I got him)?
  • Is it dangerous to allow Rocky, specifically, to power into fast trot, canter, and gallop on the uneven ground at the school?
  • How do I “match his energy” or “match his energy and add four ounces” effectively?

If Erin doesn’t want to go for The Walk, I can probably simulate some of it in the front arena.

Some things I handled pretty well. I can see now when he’s ready to move on after a freeze-in-place-to-stare. I don’t get flustered, frustrated, or scared. I don’t blame Rock at all — it’s all about my learning as quickly as possible how to be the leader he needs out on the trail.

I’m so proud of his progress, too. He’s not afraid of bicycles or barking dogs or moving vehicles or walking over the wooden bridge and through a doorway-sized squeeze to walk down the narrow path between fences to get to the school. He was fascinated by the kids on the trampoline and we watched them for a long while. He didn’t completely panic about the bonfire or the goats, though he was tense. He had enough presence of mind that after staring and snorting at something for a while, he would rudely mug me for cookies.

rock-is-cookie-onHe understands that mailboxes often, but not always, have horse cookies on top, and therefore must be inspected. He doesn’t panic about stepping on his rope while grazing and exploring the forested hill and open grass field behind the school. He inspected all rocks and stumps at the school in case of cookies.

Most importantly he didn’t fall over when he lost his balance galloping in a circle and he didn’t step in a hole and snap his leg. Nor did he aim any kicking at me — he had to release the energy but didn’t do it in my direction.

When we got back to the lane toward home, he spooked in place twice at the fathers-sons-Labrador football game, then realized they weren’t going to eat him and got absorbed in acorns instead. Even when one dad intercepted a pass and ran all 90 yards to the end zone right next to us — basically sprinting toward Rock the whole time — Rock didn’t even flinch.

I ended with some loose horse time in the arena, just hanging out. He explored every corner and obstacle in case of cookies, and was calm and even affectionate with me. He stood patiently at the pasture gate to be blanketed (and helped by putting his head through the neck hole) even though he could see that the hay had already been distributed and both Riley and Centella were eating.

Jan and Dan will be here for four days in a row this week, and we will try to take all the animals on The Walk at least twice and may even be able to do it daily.

November 6, 2009

Good things happen when you let the horse set the timeline

Filed under: Liberty — horsegirlonajourney @ 12:09 am

Rock has been galloping around bucking like a yearling during the first few minutes of his turnout with Salsa in the arena, so yesterday I decided to take my Australian saddle out there and see if it fits him and if so, get back to our freestyle patterns. Early last year Jenni and I tried it and it seemed pretty good for him but felt odd for us. Now that I evaluate it with my Parelli-opened eyes, I think it is going to be a good “balance point” saddle.

rockyterrainWhile he and Salsa concentrated on rolling and investigating all the obstacles for cookies, I dragged every pole out and let it fall some what haphazardly, although generally in a north-to-south direction. I also moved some barrels out and spread the tarp flat. Rock doesn’t know where his feet are and he doesn’t pick them up very high either, so for a while I’m going to try scattering stuff around. Not specifically to play with, but to be there in hopes of teaching him his responsibility #4: look where you are going.

I let him play for a while longer and when he started looking to me for ideas, I suggested that he get on the pedestal with all four feet. Just a soft point with a finger, and a firm picture in my mind of what I wanted. He got right on up and waited for his treat.

He is solid now with getting the front feet up there but still seems to be lifting his back feet and putting them down at random, until they’re on the platform. He will end up with the toe of one hoof barely on the wood or halfway in the crack between two slats of wood. When he gets down, he picks up a front foot and kind of paws it around until it finds the sand, whether that’s in front of him or to one side, and then he leans forward and keeps picking up feet in turn until they are all on the sand. I need to get this on video, because it’s funny, even though it’s kind of sad.

I let him stay there for a while–he really does like it up there!–and then suggested he stick to me. We walked a circuit around the arena, stepping over poles or walking between them. (I didn’t care which route he chose as long as he stuck to me, as the goal here is for him to watch his step, not to jump poles.) When we were lined up with the pedestal, I said “let’s trot!” and we jogged up and put two feet on the platform. He got a treat and we hung out there for a long time, watching the ranch.

We did another circuit in that direction and then one going the other way. I finished up with a zig zag all over the arena, including poles, barrels, and tarps, and ended with all four feet on the pedestal while I sat on the fence near his head.

He was so good through all of this that I decided not to push it with re-introducing freestyle. I really really really really want to ride, but I know that the transition back to saddling might bring up some Issues, and I had the wit to accept the perfect liberty session and end things while he still wanted more. I’m under no illusions, I know right now the treats are 97% of his motivation, but Linda says that “pretty soon” I will learn to be more interesting than the treats if I just follow the program.

I played with Salsa a little bit at liberty, just a few hindquarter and forehand yields, and then I cleaned all four feet. At liberty. He did so well! He still worries about the left hind, so I made sure to say “okay” and put it down quickly, wait, then have him lift it again for one stroke with the pick, then back down.  I can tell from his posture that it’s not emotional resistance, it’s a physical soreness or stiffness, and I think that allowing him to set it down and rest from time to time is building trust.

Next on-line session for Salsa will start with figure 8 and introduce the level 2 touch-it! And I need to rake out that round pen so Rocky and I can get moving on the official liberty patterns.

October 31, 2009

A study in contrasts: safety, comfort, and play

Filed under: Learning Experience — horsegirlonajourney @ 9:38 pm

I took two business trips this month, and each time, I got home in the middle of the night and played with the horse “for reals” in the morning.

The horse that showed up was radically different, because so was the human.

Arrow 4: Protecting Your Herd of Two. Look for opportunities to protect your herd of two. From this moment on, your horse will be testing you to see who’s Alpha. Are you the one who provides the safety, comfort and play in your herd of two? ~ Parelli Program Guide 1: Essential Savvy Arrows, Level 2: Harmony, 2005

The first trip: 9 days away

After flying across the country and driving an hour and a half from the airport, arriving home at 3am, I was too tired to go to pasture when I pulled in. I went out the next morning and set up the obstacle course I sketched out to use for my on-line savvy audition.

I had to play catching game to halter Rocky and then brought him in to do a run-through of the course, with the goal of learning where the holes are so I could “isolate, separate, and recombine” in our next sessions and then film the audition.

The first hole appeared right away when he couldn’t do sideways over the first pole, and it got worse from there.

Later, of course, I realized that I didn’t encourage his ideas first and then cause my ideas to become his, I didn’t listen to his feedback, and I had gone direct-line — which I did not recognize at the time because a) it’s rare for me and b) my goal was to uncover holes, not to be perfect or successful.

The second trip: 4 days away

After driving three hours, plus a stop at the 24 hour pharmacy, a stop for groceries at the late-night store, and a stop at the ATM, I pulled in at 11 and went immediately to the pasture with a 2.5 pound bag of carrots and distributed them among the four herdmates.

In the morning, I went out and got Salsa from his day room, putting a loop of line around his neck to lead him to the arena. Rocky met me at the gate of the back 40 and I brought him to the arena with just a loop. I set them both free while Seth, Jedi, and I visited.

Rocky rolled vigorously in several places around the arena, including right next to us humans. He then bucked and galloped around some, driving Salsa a few times and checking in with me occasionally. None of his kicks were in the direction of the humans, and he didn’t crowd into our bubbles either. When he came over we petted him and then I tried scratching the base of his neck, and he made camel faces, which is a new thing he’s doing: trusting me enough to enjoy the scratch and to express that enjoyment. I stopped before he asked me to, as I am hoping to satisfy him yet leave him wanting more.

We visited for about 45 minutes and then I played halter-not-wrestle with Salsa and took him back to his pen. As we walked through the gate, I opened it wide and said “it’s okay Rocky, c’mon out” and he did. He hung out by Salsa for a while, then wandered around snuffling for oat pellets and hay wisps. He almost walked on the huge blue tarp over the manure pile then changed his mind with a very teensy double-take. He hung out next to Sabrina.

I don’t know what he did then as I had to walk Seth to his car and visit with Leslie, but when I went back, Rocky was in the barn aisle munching on some loose hay. As I approached he gave me a look like “uh oh am I in trouble” but I just greeted him and kicked the ball for the dog. I got a curry and brush and did a very, very light once-over, more to show him that grooming can be pleasant, and not really getting him very clean. I picked his hooves with no resistance from him other than that it hurts to have the right hind up for too long. I’m getting better at giving him breaks, and he’s getting better at lifting it as soon as I request it. Hrm, how interesting.

When I finally put the loop around his neck he took a last bite and then followed me willingly to the back 40. He stayed with me after I took the rope off.

I came into the house all floaty and full of positive energy. He rolled almost within touching distance! He ran around playfully! He wanted to be scratched! He stuck with me!

I need to remember this for the rest of our days together. Don’t come back and immediately jump right back in where we’d left off. Have a day  to get reacquainted before jumping right back into the program.

That’s how to re-establish the trust, through providing  safety (no pushing), comfort (no new challenging things to learn), and play (Rocky’s ideas take priority).

Stolen laptop has ponies, not porn

Filed under: Love — horsegirlonajourney @ 11:47 am

My laptop was stolen on Wednesday night and I was joking with the witnesses that had they taken my previous laptop I’d be worried about the secret photos but I’m still on sabbatical from my sex-tech column so all the thieves got was pony pictures.

Ha ha. Yeah that’s the kind of wisecrack I make when my life is shattering before my eyes.

However. I have most of my data backed up and I have my emergency laptop — my computer is the portal to my social life and the complete repository of 18 years of professional life — and there’s a replacement on the way even as I type.

I was devastated for 24 hours but by the end I had updated police report, insurance claims, ordered the replacement laptop and backpack, and outlined a plan for meeting today’s client deadline. No client confidential files were on the laptop and all client work is backed up.

I do regret that I didn’t back up my Savvy Times article pitch, though, as I had URLs and names of sources I want to interview, and a clever lead, and for the life of me I can’t remember what I wrote. Ah well.

I got home around 11 last night and went straight to the pasture with a small bag of carrots. Rocky is completely blind at night and does not follow sound or scent very well, and he almost trampled me twice when I was distracted by driving Riley out of my space. I’ve been developing a program to teach him to follow my finger on his chin but have not started it yet. That would be good for emergencies. It would be so cool if he and Salsa could bond enough that Salsa could be his seeing-eye pony.

In the meantime I am going to start carrying a string and practice leading him with it looped around his neck. I’m certain he’s going to go blind in about 8 years, because he’s got everything else annoying and expensive that’s not life-threatening, and Appaloosas tend to go blind more than any other breed.

I love him so much and he’s mine for always, but, sheesh! Next time I’m getting an Atwood Ranch Naturally gelding and that’s all there is to it. They’re perfect, right outta the box. Hehe.

And should the lady who bought Firestone (AR ONE SMART ZACK)  ever need to re-home him, I am so there. Just cross your fingers that the real estate market recovers enough that I can sell my house (even if I only break even) so that I can do now what I should have done then, and buy a horse instead.

October 27, 2009

Salsa’s Unexpectedly Excellent Session

Filed under: Liberty, Love — horsegirlonajourney @ 1:39 pm

I took Salsa and Jedi on our loop walk last Friday, including the spur trail to the hills behind the school.

The loop+spur includes: crossing a busy road, goats, barking dogs, walking on a residential street, cars, trucks, motorcycles, cyclists, cats, children, shrubbery, wooden footbridges, ditches, hills, boulders, stumps, trees, open grassy field, school buildings, kids on skateboards, runners on a track, and probably a myriad of other “obstacles” I didn’t notice or don’t remember.

Jedi got to run around like a puppy off leash and Salsa proved himself unconcerned with new environments. In fact, Salsa’s only concern appears to be eating. He grazes like it’s his last meal before a long winter: crop crop crop CROP CROP CROP CROP CROP CROP CROP CROP CROP. I wonder if he will fear starvation for the rest of his life, and be an LBE who lives for food rather than play?

We walked and trotted and grazed, and when we got home, Salsa stood relatively still for grooming. It’s the first time I’ve been able to curry and brush him like a real pony without him pacing, pawing, tensing up, or bobbing his head. I looped his rope through the tie ring and put music on the barn stereo and treated him like a normal horse. He picked up each foot and held it for me to clean as if he’s done so every day of his life.

Then I turned him loose in the arena and he stuck with me. Jedi was acting out his feelings about having to share his walk with a horse, so I allowed him in the arena and paid attention to him, throwing his ball and talking to him as if Salsa weren’t right there. We got into a good rhythm of fetch and Salsa wandered off to roll. But when he returned, all three of us rested at the pedestal for a while. I scratched both of them in their itchy spots and it turned into a nice stretch of undemanding time.

At one point, Salsa put his chin on my shoulder and rested it there, his eyes half closed. It was A Moment.

When I got up to move around, Salsa followed me again, so I started trying a bit of liberty. We have played touch it so he knows about driving game and obstacles — we’re still working on porcupine — and we did a little bit of that at liberty.

Finally, when I brought out the halter, he put his nose in it. Usually he evades, tipping his nose away and giving a “what are ya gonna do about it” look with one eye. I don’t take him up on the invitation to wrestle, ever. I just wait. Eventually he nudges the halter, at which point I decide whether to put it on or whether to keep waiting until he’s impatient about shoving his nose in the loop. (It depends on if I’m going back to work or not after the session.)

He’s really starting to engage with me, although it’s still mostly because I am the Cookie Comptroller. However, once he’s sure the cookies are gone, he still chooses to hang out with me, even when I start doing things that make him nervous, like flicking the carrot stick around or loudly folding up the blanket I’m planning to try on him when he’s ready to accept it.

It’s been two months since The Day and he has learned about haltering, feet cleaning, feet trimming, dental care, grooming, superficial bathing, trail walks, turnouts with other horses, friendly game, porcupine game, driving game, touch-it pattern, and figure 8 pattern. Not to mention an entirely new lifestyle of care, protection, and food!

I hope it stays warm through next weekend, so I can really get in there and scrub him. He has a layer — a crust — of filth right at the base of his fur, and I’d like to get that taken care of before winter. It’s just taken this long for him to be ready for a real bath.

October 26, 2009

RBI + ENFP = Partnership? Let’s hope so

Filed under: Language — horsegirlonajourney @ 3:17 pm
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I’ve always loved doing assessments about personality. I enjoy using the results  as a lens for self-reflection, and, like any good ENFP, I know these things are flexible and I do not feel defined by or boxed in by the label. It just helps to have an external structure. The recent buzz around Linda’s horsenality/personality match project has had me musing on this subject for a while, but of course it’s not until I start writing that things actually become clear.

Regina the ENFP

For an extrovert, I am extremely solitary, and I love living alone, traveling alone, and can generally hermit just fine — as long as I have the internet to fulfill my social requirements on a daily basis. Of course, I also love spending time with and traveling with lovers; it’s just that I don’t need in-person company as often as I think most extroverts do.

Click to view my Personality Profile page

Yet I am definitely extroverted — when around people, whether friends or strangers, I am outgoing, warm, gregarious, and not shy. Well, karaoke makes me shy, but other than that, I can’t think of a social situation where I would feel uncomfortably shy. I stick my foot in my mouth all the time and therefore spend time feeling awkward and embarrassed, but that’s just part of being extroverted. I do try to be aware and not get into “attention competitions” with other extroverts and also not to trample all over the introverts or suck their energy dry. And I have to trust that people get my intentions and don’t get too stuck on whatever nonsense actually flew out of my mouth.

Rocky the RBI

It’s been a long and difficult process of figuring out Rocky’s innate horsenality. He has dots evenly distributed around the LBE/LBI/RBI quadrants and almost as many in the RBE quadrant, in both the challenging attributes and the positive attributes parts of the chart. (I can’t find the PDF for the positive attributes, alas).

As my ability to read horses improves, I’m getting more and more sure that Rocky is innately RBI. He acts LBI in areas where he is totally familiar, and he will edge into LBE when he’s having fun and into RBE if I miss the early right-brain signs and let the fear escalate. But innately, I believe he is RBI.

rocky-horsenalitychart-oct09

I settled on innate RBI because one of the main characteristics of this horsenality is “hard to read,” according to the latest Parelli materials (although that phrase is not on the chart). I see now that he reacts by holding still, then trembling, then moving his feet. (I used to miss the holding still.) He’s also very perceptive and reactive. The upside to perceptive and reactive is that he’s very sensitive and responsive.

In fact, my latest chart shows him weighted on the right brain side of the chart, which has not  happened before, probably because I was not as good at reading horses. This chart represents an average of all environments, rather than focusing only on Rocky in a comfortable place (more LBI/LBE) or a new place (more RBI/RBE).

Linda’s recent teachings on horsenality have said that you have to know the innate horsenality to communicate well. Other behaviors do not mean his innate horsenality has changed, even though his environment, relationship, comfort level, and so on may have changed. If Rocky goes LBE, I still have to filter the LBE strategies through the RBI strategies, or I risk pushing him across thresholds or putting too much pressure on. I should not just treat him like an innate LBE.

Developing an ENFP/RBI Partnership

I am intuitive and perceptive, and so is Rocky. However, being heavily Perceiving and only lightly Judging makes it difficult for me to be definite about having a plan. The good side is I am flexible and spontaneous and do not tend to go direct-line. The bad side is that I lack horsey leadership and tend to drift away from the day’s program, never mind trying to stick to the months-long patterns programs.

I’m generally strong in feel, too, yet have not trusted my feel with horses. Lately I’ve changed “That’s can’t be right” to “What if I’m right?” What if I believe myself? What if I trust this feel, and go with it? If I’m wrong, at least I’ll find out, rather than not acting on the feel and pre-judging it as wrong. It’s not like I’m going to do anything that endangers or harms the horses.

Just do something. You have a 50/50 percent chance of being right. ~ Linda Parelli

I am extremely verbal — textual, really — by nature. One way I have improved my body language is to explain aloud what I am doing and why. This works better when there is another human around, but I’ve started doing it even when I’m alone, and it’s helping steady me. Unfortunately, while I normally have good physical balance and coordination, I seem to leave it at the gate when I get around horses. I get clumsy which makes me nervous which makes me clumsy. Could it be as simple as that I am looking at horses and trying to do everything right and therefore not putting enough focus in my body?

And I’m also trying to bring more music into our play. Music is one of those things that uses both hemispheres of the brain, involving feel/intuition as much as math/structure. Rocky likes it when I sing to him — I can feel this, I can read it in his body, and he told the animal communicator that he enjoys it — and lately I’ve been putting my iPod in the dock and giving us a soundtrack. It occurs to me as I write (as things so often do, writing being my best processing) that having music on will put me in my body. Music will automatically improve my balance and coordination because I can’t help but dance, even if it’s so subtle no one knows I’m dancing but me and probably Rocky.

We had a great horse weekend — lots of breakthroughs, lots of OH BOY, lots of FUN and confidence and exhilaration. I’ll blog it throughout the week, as I am going down the mountain to Oakland to work on location from Tuesday through Friday, but it’s what inspired me to write about horsenality and personality today. The more I can synch my self with Rocky’s needs, the better it’s all gonna be.

October 25, 2009

It’s not about the…

Filed under: Language — horsegirlonajourney @ 12:01 pm

Not long ago, the full power of this phrase hit me.

It’s not about the fire, tractor, baseball game, trailer, pigs, other riders, threshold. It’s about the trust, which is another way of saying — wait for it — the relationship.

The relationship is the result and the measure of the trust he has in me and my leadership to keep him safe, comfortable, and engaged.

When that trust is 100 percent it doesn’t matter what I ask him to do, he’ll try to do it — because he knows I won’t push him to do anything he can’t do or isn’t ready for. When that engagement is 100 percent, it doesn’t matter what else is going on around us, because his focus will be on me.

I love how I understand the words of a Parellism … then one day I understand the meaning … then one day I understand the deeper meaning … and then one day it goes schwoom into my bone marrow.

October 23, 2009

From ‘oh no’ to ‘oh boy’

Filed under: Health, Leadership — horsegirlonajourney @ 8:38 pm
Tags: , ,

A forum thread called “Turning ‘oh no’ into ‘oh boy’” caught my attention yesterday and came at exactly the right time. I’ve been a bit low this week, as I came back from my business trip to an aloof, irked horse, and I just didn’t catch on quickly enough.

Reading the thread reminded me of the Olden Days, when I was trying to straddle the chasm between normal and Parelli and everything on both sides was entirely new to me.

The Olden Days

I’d had some lessons but this was my first horse of my own, and the reality of horse ownership was crashing upon me.

In the Olden Days, every change, setback, annoyance, or obstacle was enough to send me in a spiral of “Oh no, now I can’t….” I can’t ride today because the wind came up right when I got to the barn. I can’t walk Rocky on the trail loop today because there’s a little league game. I can’t go in the arena because there are two other boarders riding in there, and that means I can’t play at all today.

Of course, enough Parelli will take the “oh no” right out of you. Gradually I started to respond differently. “Oh boy, the arena’s full, what if I take him on-line all around the ranch and find things to put his nose on?” “Oh boy, there’s a baseball game, let’s go stand by the outfield fence and watch a couple of innings.”

We moved to this Parelli ranch 11 months and eight days ago and I’ve only had a few real “oh no” moments. The bonfire was one of them, and I can’t even remember any of the others. The tractor, maybe? Everything else has been “oh boy.” Ooo, a pig challenge! Ooo, the tractor! The lawn mower! The gravel road next door! The front arena!

But lately, the “oh no” has been … will Rocky ever be rideable. He’s a nice horse, without malice, very sensitive and light, and we used to enjoy the occasional ramble, but he’s been lame with one thing or another all year. Deep fetlock cut, then barefoot transition, then arthritis (which is forever), and two months of thrush (which is gone now).  He’s gimpy on the right front again and due for another Adequan injection on the 27th, so maybe it’s just that it wears off and he’ll feel better on the 28th.

But he never did get entirely sound, even with the Adequan “loading dose” of every five days, and now I wrestle with feelings of stuckness. He’s my horse for life and I can’t afford another one, and if he’s never going to be serviceably sound, then I guess I’m never going to become a rider. The “oh no my horse isn’t rideable” has to become “oh boy I have the opportunity to put together a really awesome on-line and liberty partnership.”

The essential joy of being with horses is that it brings us in contact with the rare elements of grace, beauty, spirit, and fire.  ~Sharon Ralls Lemon, editor, Horse Illustrated

Never Give Up! Never Surrender! By Grapthor’s Hammer, Ye Shall Be … Ridden?

I am not giving up yet on the riding, especially since my confidence has returned and the patterns give me a program to follow. But  I can’t help worrying, or mourning, or thinking how I have worked consciously these past two years to be “where we are now” and not to be thinking “we’ll just settle for this until …  he gets his teeth done … he gets new shoes … he gets barefoot … he gets boots … he gets joint injection … he gets Adequan ….”

And then this week to come back from the trip to find a cranky, sore, irritated horse demanding to see my leadership credentials and not accepting them when half an hour later I finally figure out what’s going on…. well.

A Sharp Savvy Arrow

At least today I finally thought of a plan and went out and tried it and it worked: I took my carrot stick into the pasture and was ready to play catching game, except that he came over to me as I walked in. Then he stuck with me for a while, most likely because he could tell I had one cookie in my pocket. Every time his attention wandered, I walked or ran backwards at an angle away from him, ready to add driving game to zone 4 if he didn’t reconnect. Or I turned toward his hindquarters and surged toward zone 5. As soon as he yielded and gave me two eyes, I went friendly. Lo and behold, even in that huge pasture, at liberty, this worked to reboot the draw.

By the end of — well, I don’t really know, horse time is hard to measure — but by the end of “pretty soon” he was sticking to me intently. I gave him the cookie. Waited. Then did some more walking around, sticking, even in areas where he doesn’t usually follow me. And then I called it a day and left while he was still sticky, so that it was I who ended the session, not him.

When I took Salsa back there tonight after our (rather excellent!) session, Rocky came right over and stood with me for a while. We hung out and watched Rociada get her hand-walk in the arena. I felt a definite change in Rock’s attitude and respect.

October 22, 2009

Graphic reasons to get dental care for your horse

Filed under: Health — horsegirlonajourney @ 10:19 pm
Tags: ,

While I was away last week, Richard O. Miller, DVM, Equine Dentist, came for his semi-annual three-day stint here at Equine Partners, Inc.

Salsa, as many of you know, is a rescue. We don’t know much about his previous 12 years of life. We can tell that he has starved, that he has been neglected, and that he doesn’t have a lot of experience in the whole “humans can be fun” arena. He’s still bracey and tense about us being on his right side, and reactive about Zone 5.

But he did great in his needle simulations and trailer loading, and he went to his dentist appointment like a responsible little pony.

The dentist and his techs then gathered around oohing and aahing with sorrow, as Salsa presented one of the worst mouths they’ve ever seen. Decay, hooks, chips, rot, ulcers — the poor guy has apparently not had dental care in years, if ever. Not even a quickie teeth float! They had to clip and file and extract and clean and I don’t even know what else.

It wasn’t nearly as expensive as it would have been for a human. Now that both Rocky and Salsa have had dental care I am a firm believer in getting a good dental specialist to take care of your horse’s mouth. Dr. Miller really helped Rocky in April, fixing a bad hook and an overbite that were causing anxiety, tenseness, and pain.

I can already see that Salsa is more cheerful now that his mouth is feeling so much better. In fact, today when I took Rock into the arena for what turned out to be a rather ridiculously unsuccessful session, Salsa was pawing at his gate and whinnying softly, clearing saying “I wanna play too!” (Yes, I went and got him after a while, and he explored every obstacle in a thorough search for treats.)

The dental people took a bunch of photos for posterity, and Erin got a couple of close-ups and emailed them to me. I haven’t even looked closely at them myself, but I’m putting them after this link, so you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. I do not want to give anyone nightmares.

(more…)

October 21, 2009

R E S P E C T find out what it means to me

Filed under: Leadership — horsegirlonajourney @ 6:07 pm

I’m back in my usual ficton, the time and place that includes Rocky and Salsa. Salsa was happy to see me insofar as he noticed the carrots in my pocket. Rocky gave me a “talk to the hoof” look and walked off to a pile of hay (but spoiled the effect by watching to make sure I noticed his ‘tude).

My latest Parelli workbook arrived while I was away and I poured myself into it last night. This month’s topic is RESPECT, which thrills me, as I am working on that with both horses these days.

This is the manual that Linda talked about at the gold summit, where she said that she realized that in 20+ years of teaching horsemanship, she had not actually written content focused entirely on respect. It always showed up as a component of other subjects. And yet respect is the second on the list of 10 qualities that make a horseman.

Respect is the second building block of natural collection. It is also the foundation for leadership, and leadership among horses is now my biggest challenge. (I should pat myself on the back for that, as before I got Rocky, an unexpected but powerful fear had risen inside me, and my biggest challenge was working through that. Now I don’t even have a lot of fear when riding, other than my tendency to worry that I am doing/will do the wrong thing.)

When my leadership behaviors and energy become more habitual and effective, Rocky and I will become one of those teams that make other people say things like “you are so lucky to have such an easy horse.”

The respect manual includes several checklists for assessing where you and your horse are right now in terms of mutual respect. On the questions where you give a rating, rather than a Yes/No, I realized that I was rating us too highly overall. The scale is from 1 to 10 with 10 being “the most awesomest you can imagine,” and I was rating us in the 4 to 6 range on several things.

But then I realized that like Han Solo, I can imagine quite a lot. I made a note to myself in the margin that I should knock most of those scores down a couple of points, for comparison in six or 12 months.

The Yes/No questions were the hardest, though.  These are not essay questions. You have to strip away the caveats and ’splainin’ and defensiveness (“but I’m getting better!”) and put the truth down on the page.  Then in six months, you come back and fill it out again, using only Yes or No, and see if you have managed to change your truth.

Let me show you how painful this is, with questions picked at random from a couple of sections, and my answers — including caveats, ’splainin’, and defensiveness. Just by way of a f’r'instance.

From “Things That Decrease Respect”

  • Do you corner your horse to catch him? (No, and I never have to.)
  • Do you saddle him before he is ready? (Yes, in that I think I still do miss some signals. His recent resurgence of cinchyness has a silver lining in that I am learning to see what happens before what happens happens, and he is only needing to go to phase 1 or 2 with me before I understand.)
  • Do you ask him to do things he’s not prepared for? (Yes. This is another reason I suspect he is indeed innately RBI even if it doesn’t exactly say so on the behavior examples on the horsenality chart. Because he is gentle and obedient, I don’t always see when I’ve done one too many “good job, now let’s make it harder.”)
  • Do you micromanage? (No. I used to, in my normal days, but now I err too far in the other direction.)
  • Do you lose your balance easily? (Yes, although not nearly as much as I used to. And how interesting to think of this as a sign of respect/disrespect!)

From “Signs of a Lack of Respect”

  • Does your horse nip or bite you? (No. Except for recent cinch issues, when he displaces his desire to nip by chewing on his rope, the wall, or the saddle.)
  • Does your horse keep heading for the gate? (No.)
  • Does your horse run away from you? (Yes. I did not think so, but then I realized that when our draw breaks — when he looks at other things in the arena, or to the outside, or does not come to greet me in the pasture — all of these are subtle signs of “running away.” But he doesn’t actually run. )
  • Does your horse push you around, make you move your feet and give ground? (Yes. Not nearly as often as he used to now that I recognize his coming so close as dominance rather than insecurity.)
  • Does your horse brace against you (your leg, hand, rein)? (Yes. Sometimes.)

I’d rather rate them all on a scale: never, rarely, sometimes, usually, always. But the stark yes/no does not allow excuses or wiggle room and makes the tool more effective. Now I have some specifics to start with, including a list of things that diminish respect (and therefore, an implied list of things to do that increase respect.)  “I need to earn their respect” is too broad to be helpful.

The devil’s most devilish when respectable. ~ Elizabeth Barret Browning


October 13, 2009

On the road again

Filed under: Love — horsegirlonajourney @ 7:07 pm

Seth says Jedi is napping by the wood-burning stove, and Leslie’s got the horses and guinea pigs taken care of, and I’m about to hit the sack, and I realized that I needed the ritual of horseblogging to relax enough to get to sleep.

I’m out here in Raleigh for my day job and I don’t even have time to set up a lesson with Mariah, one of the up-and-coming, soon-to-be-a-Parelli-Professional young women I met in the Savvy Club forum. She lives around here somewhere and I’d love to meet her … ah well, next trip, when I’m here out of my own travel funds and not on the client’s budget.

This will be the longest time away from my horses since January. I’ve truly become a homebody. I used to commute six hours each way, between home base and client sites, staying for a week at a time, and not think much of it. One year I did the math and discovered I lived in Los Angeles about 65% of the time and San Francisco about 30% of the time and on the road in other cities the other 5%. The San Francisco was mostly ‘day job’ client work and the rest was mostly conferences, media appearances, book readings, and speaking engagements related to my column and books.

How far away that life seems now, though I have not let the brand die out entirely, and have lately been feeling the bug to get back to it. It’s been more than a year since I replaced my column with horsemanship, and I’ve kept my promise not to pitch any books in 2009 (though I have two proposals in the works for 2010, yikes).

Jan and I played with Salsa and needle simulations on Sunday and he did spectacularly. He was way more interested in the cookies than in the toothpick, and I was able to poke him all over both sides of his neck (to simulate intramuscular injections and intravenous injections). At first I took the toothpick away when he bent his nose to me, but by the end I was leaving it there and letting him find his own relaxation response. Except he didn’t entirely relax because he was too busy gobbling cookies and demanding more.

Hopefully he will have no problem with the equine dentist when Erin brings him to his appointment.

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