Horsegirl on a Journey

Ah-ha saddle fit moment or just a fluke?

Today I rode River in Rocky’s saddle. Rocky is 16.1, lanky, high-withered, deep from withers to breastbone but narrow from left side to right side.

River is 14.3, stocky without being stout, and rounded at the withers.

Yet when I set Rocky’s saddle on her on a whim, it didn’t rock front to back. When I put my hands under the tree, I couldn’t feel any pinching or bridging. When I lifted her front leg to check the farthest point of the scapula, the saddle had room for her shoulder to move.

My favorite part of Rocky’s saddle is the wide channel between to bars of the tree. Rocky has plenty of room for his wiggly spine to sway without bonking into the saddle. This width appeared to work for River too.

I allowed her to eat at the hay bag for a long time just to get used to wearing to saddle. Then we played on the ground for a while to make sure she could move comfortably and accept the saddle. Eventually I took off her halter and climbed aboard to practice carrot stick riding. We had the arena to ourselves so I didn’t feel like I needed to have a rope on her “just in case.”

What I learned in our walk-trot transitions and our turns is that if I got off balance to one side, the saddle would slip that way. I see Pat adjust his saddle back to the middle all the time, so I decided to treat it as an opportunity for learning — incentive for feeling a balanced or unbalanced seat on tight turns! — and not reflexively cinch up tighter.

River did not seem bothered by the saddle even when I slipped to the right on the first turn, so we practiced transitions and turns and halts until I felt like I’d improved, and then I got a halter and reins to ride one loop around the ranch trail. It was hard to keep it to just one but that’s good — leave the party while you’re still having fun!

In grooming her afterward, I palpated for sore spots and felt for dry or unusually sweaty spots, and found no signs of discomfort. As always we will have to try a few times and see what happens. But it would be nice to be able to have the same type of saddle for both of them and thus not always be switching between types of seats.

ONE two three ONE two three ONE two ONE two ONE two ONE two three ONE two three

There is said to be a code in the number and placement of the horse’s hooves: If one of the horse’s hooves is in the air, the rider was wounded in battle; two legs in the air means that the rider was killed in battle; three legs in the air indicates that the rider got lost on the way to the battle; and four legs in the air means that the sculptor was very, very clever. Five legs in the air means that there’s probably at least one other horse standing behind the horse you’re looking at; and the rider lying on the ground with his horse lying on top of him with all four legs in the air means that the rider was either a very incompetent horseman or owned a very bad-tempered horse.” ~ Terry Pratchett, I Shall Wear Midnight

In our lesson on Saturday, we wrapped our horses’ legs in polo wraps of different colors, so that we could more easily see how horses move their feet in each gait.

Then we each got two carrot sticks and practiced moving around the arena as if the sticks were our front legs, finding our rhythm in walk-trot-canter-halt-backup. I even went over some cavaletti.

I’ve been really paying attention which foot is “up” or “next” when I want to send the horse or ask for a change of direction. In the saddle, I most easily feel the footfalls during the back up, or when walking forward down a hill, or when posting the trot. I’m trying to improve my timing so that I’m not asking the horse to turn when all of his weight is already planted on the foot he needs in the air to make the turn.