Spring Has Sprung

Ever notice how everything seems new at springtime? Even things you've had for years that were packed away all winter seem new. We're unpacking my daughters' summer toys, wagons, bikes, and battery powered cars that were hidden in a horse trailer all winter and they just think it's Christmas.

As I drive down our road I see my neighbor's horses with their new foals, the calves scampering with each other. We even have new kittens in the barn (as if we need any more cats). I just love baby animals! Unfortunately, the only mare we were expecting a foal from this year, one of the Thoroughbreds, lost it a couple of months ago so this is the first year in ages that I don't have a baby to work with. I am missing it now, looking at the babies in nearby fields and I have to keep reminding myself how much work they turn into so quickly.

But with spring in the air, everything seems light and easy. The fruit trees are budding and we're dumping grass cuttings over the fence for the horses from the suddenly growing lawn. Even my husband came home with a flat of pansies for our daughter to plant. There's gotta be something in the air.

I guess it must be spring!

A Non-Horsey Rider

Yesterday was a great riding day. The weather was just perfect, sunny but not too hot, and it was teacher's inservice day in our school district so my younger brother and sister( 18 and 13 respectively) were able to come out and play.

Now my sister is a budding amature rider and takes her lessons seriously, whereas my brother takes a more lack-luster approach to the whole thing. He saw us pulling the muddy horses in from the pasture and gathering the equipment and he made a beline for the house calling over his shoulder that he wanted to ride when we had the horses ready. We sort of forgot to let him know and worked on our various horse projects until he came out an hour later with a hurt look on his face because we didn't call him. We did mention that if he had been helping out he might have known when the horses were ready.

Anyway he watched my sister ride for a few minutes as I called out instructions, then I asked if he was ready and had heard what I had been saying about holding the reins properly.
He said he had not really been listening, he had been watching the horse.
Oh, I say, well did you see how she turned tight around the barrel and went wide around the edge of the arena?
Well, no, he didn't notice, he kinda had his eyes on the horse but he was thinking about something else.

At this point I was wondering why this kid even wanted to ride but I told my sister to give him his turn and he happily stepped up to mount Tickles. Tickles, by the way is fourteen and a half hands tall, that's a little under five feet at the shoulder, and my brother is a gangly six-foot-three or so, his feet hung down to her knees but I managed to get the stirrups to fit. Tickles then proceded to take him on a nice little tour of the arena, I quickly gave up yelling out pointers as everybody but him(the horse included) knew he was only a passenger.

After a few minutes he announced he was ready to trot so I stopped him and told him to give a little rein, squeeze with both heels and cluck. Turns out teenage boys are genetically incabable of producing any sound even resembling a cluck. Miraculously, though, he could manage a kissing sound, but since that is more of a canter cue, we decided to just stick to the first two. After a couple of passes, Tickles figured out that the flailing and arm waving was a new-fangled method of cueing for the trot and finally indulged him in a pokey, lazy, walk-jog that brought a smile to his face.

He proudly pulled up and patted his trusty steed and declared he was going back in to play video games. We girls finished up our lesson and put the horses away. Looking back it occurs to me that they both had, I think, an equally good time riding. They both accomplished what they set out to, and it proves again what I always thought. You can have fun and enjoy horses on any level, you mustn't have preconceived notions about what what you should accomplish and how you do it in order to be a successful rider. The main thing is to enjoy yourself and be safe.

However, next time I think I may have to have him help saddle up or clean a stall afterwards, we don't want today's youth thinking there's any such thing as a free ride!

Nanny Nanny!

Me and one of my first horses, Ol' Buckshot (just in case you can't see the teeny little thumbnail sized Profile Photo). I should have stuck out my tongue, too!

Inspiring News

Today on the news I saw that a 16-year-old girl from right here in Idaho has qualified to go to the Rolex Invitational this year in Kentucky. This competition is one of the final steps in qualifying for the Olympics; in fact many of her competitors at the event will be Olympic riders. Few 16-year-olds are able to compete at equivilant levels in any sport that I can think of, so I find this very exciting.

The compitition is Three-Day-Eventing which consists of a day of Dressage, in which every movement of the horse is judged as it performs dance-like routines to the invisible cues from the rider. The second day is the Cross-Country portion, timed, over a four-mile course of solid obstacles and water hazards. The final day is Stadium Jumping where the pair completes a course of jumps within an enclosed arena.

To complete the event in decent shape requires immense bravery, stamina, and heart. To win at any of the higher levels is unimaginable to me. But my favorite part of the story is the story of the pair themselves. The horse is a Thoroughbred ex-racehorse, purchased as a claimer. Horses are entered into claiming races often as a quick and easy way for the owner to dispose of the animal. They go to the highest better, basically; and like many racehorses, often don't amount to much unless they are lucky enough to get picked up by someone who understands them and can do something with them. This gelding was lucky. The girl was homeschooled so she could spend her time training the horse and I guess it payed off!

All of this struck me because:
A: I did some Three-Day-Eventing in college but found it too grueling, so I switched to
Hunter/Jumper.
B: I was homeschooled from third grade to ninth.
C: My husband and I basically run his parent's breeding operation and everyday I work with
Thoroughbreds that are either off the track, or bound for the track or competition arena.

I know many of the backyard pet horse enthusiasts will find this all utterly boring but I maintain that the more we know about the horse world at large, the better prepared we will be to help make horse industry related decisions in the future. For all of those who can compete at the top levels, more power to them and thank you on behalf of all the obscure smaller horse people living vicariously through your adventures!

A Hairy Situation

Today I was daydreaming a bit as I quickly ran a brush over Tuff's sides and then moved on to Tickles. On my way back to the barn I picked up a cat for a quick rub and patted the dog on the way into the house where I did a double-take when I passed by the mirror. I looked like I had grown a fur coat!

I guess it's that time of year again. Shedding season. The days are getting longer and warmer and all the animals have let fly with loose hair. I think I could build a new cat every day with all I've collected, or save it up and make a whole horse. I wonder if there aren't places I could donate it , like Locks of Love for cancer patients, maybe there's a place for people to donate fur coats to the hairless, like Chinese Crested dogs and naked mole rats.

All I know is that hair, and lots of it, is my life this time of year. It's in the carpet, the car, and on all of our clothes. It's a challenge to avoid breathing it in when I'm petting a critter and with my horses being mostly white, it shows up on everything, there's no avoiding it.

But on the other hand, I love watching the hair gradually come off, and seeing their brightly colored summer coats make their appearance. They slowly are becoming sleek and shiny as the spring wind carries the loose hair away a little at a time for the birds to use in their nests. For better or worse shedding season is a sure sign that Spring is here. Besides, every time my husband looks at my hairbrush he points that I'm shedding all year round, so it could be worse!

Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?

There is a growing concern within the horse industry about the future of our pastime. After a short decline in horse ownership with the invention of the automobile, the pleasure horse industry has always been healthy until recent years. Now with fewer and fewer people living in rural areas and the encroaching development of the growing cities, horses are becoming more and more of a rare sight.

While my mother's generation saw grandparents with backyard ponies for the kids to ride on weekends, I grew up in a world where horseback riding lessons were an inconvenient and expensive indulgence. What about the next generation? Who will run the organizations and fight the battles on behalf of our equine friends in future years if it is becoming less and less possible for youth to be involved with horses? How will they learn to appreciate the responsibility and pride achieved when working to become a partner with such a noble and responsive animal? Horses have a presence and demeanor about them that inspires respect and adoration. Can you buy your kid a goldfish and expect it to teach these lessons? I don't think so.

But I don't have a solution. People who can still afford this pastime are trying to pass this on to their children, and maybe, hopefully, they will be enough to ensure that horses survive and are appreciated for their contribution to life in this country and the people we have become.

Why Choose?

I have lived in the west, especially the Northwest, my whole life. Raised in California, I lived in Utah and Oregon before winding up in Idaho. This information is relevant because it helps explain why my love of riding English and jumping is regarded as exccentric at best. Here in the west we ride western. I was in college before I even saw an English saddle up close. It looked dangerous, but I tried it and was hooked. I began showing in some lower level hunter classes and I loved jumping! But once I left school, my instructor, and the atmosphere of fellow equestrians who appreciated what an English mount could offer, I returned to my western lifestyle.

Now I didn't give up on English riding and I have nothing against western, in fact, here in Idaho I often see my neighbors working thier cattle or herding sheep up the road. That would be hard to do without a free hand. Not to mention the fact that this is hard-core rodeo country and I wouldn't want to try any of those events in English tack. And I'm not encouraged to try. Just a quick jaunt down the road on my horse, which normally would warrant only a wave or nod from passers-by, can get quite a different reaction when I feel like riding English. Stares, double-takes, and even that occasional glare as though it's a personal slight that I would take the prissy Easterners' advice on how to sit a good western horse. How do I think the West was won anyway?

But I still trained Tickles to go English and she loves to jump. Of course, being a short, stocky Paint Horse, she would stick out like a sore thumb if I were to enter her in a class over fences, and I doubt anyone in that circle would appreciate her efforts. For no matter how hard she tries, she just has no real talent.

I've made myself a tiny bit of an outcast. So what will I do? Buy a leggy Thoroughbred or give up and stick to my roots?

How about neither? I'll just ride what I want, how I want. I don't really care what's geographically accepted if I and my horses enjoy it. I'm not hurting anybody and I kind of get a kick out of rocking the boat. Besides nowadays people own horses more for fun and relaxation than any other reason, if I'm having fun, why does it matter? I choose not to choose one or the other. I ride for the sake of riding, of being outside and enjoying the land and animals. Conformity is for the birds. So Giddyap and Tally-ho!

Distraction

Yesterday I went thumbing through a Horse Illustrated magazine to see if there were any topics that I felt opinionated enough about to post a new blog. What I found instead were two good articles on ground work exercises that I hadn't tried out yet. So I wound up spending the afternoon not in front of my computer, as planned, but out in my arena playing with my horses.

So a really good and insightful blog is forth-coming, it's just that my horses needed me more than my blog did yesterday. That's sometimes the way it goes when you're dealing with horse people. I just hope that someday I can get my husband to understand that!

A Wasted Day?

So today I stepped outside to feed the animals, nursing a headcold and feeling yucky, and a little guilty. I had every intention of getting some serious riding done yesterday on account of the gorgeous weather and relatively clear schedule and yet I never did get so far as picking up a bridle. Another wasted day, I guess. But I've let good riding days go by before just playing or pampering the kids, and they don't seem to suffer from it.

The odd thing is, I boarded my horse for years, and rode almost every day. I thought when I moved them to my own back yard and saved the time and effort of driving to the barn, oh what I could accomplish! But in the 2 years I've had my kids home, I hardly ever actually ride any more. Is it because I can get my horse fix just by gazing out the window a hundred times a day? I no longer have to fit all my horse time into one trip to the barn, but can run out the door for a hug and a carrot and a quick horse game or lesson each time I have a spare few minutes.

When I do ride I've noticed that it's a more relaxing time for both of us. I take long trail rides with my husband or pop on bareback to mess around in the yard and while I'm always half focused on training, my rides have stopped being class time. I know my horses have noticed the difference because they come trotting when I call even when I'm holding a bridle instead of an apple.

So maybe I'll stop feeling guilty about 'wasting' lesson time and look forward to the next nice day. In the mean time I'm sure I can find plenty to do to keep them busy and attentive and my pants clean.

Meet The Kids

When I refer to my kids one has to take into consideration the context to figure out whether I'm talking about my two daughters, or my two Paint Horses. Affectionately known as Tuff and Tickles, my thoughts revolve around them far more than anyone should admit. They were purchased "for the kids" but somewhere along the line they evolved into almost people. To me.

When asked what I do with them, I might give the same look as if I were asked that about my children. I feed them, clean up after them, play with them and love them. They also have their various jobs they are asked to do from time to time. Little Tickles is the Trainer-of-kids. Patient and gentle she yawns obnoxiously the moment a child is placed on her back, I know she can think of nothing more boring than babysitting. She babysits the foals in the spring as well and when their mothers can't stand them anymore, Tickles will always yawn and play and nuzzle them no matter how bratty. She likes babies no matter how many legs they have. She taught my little sister about barrel racing and jumping alike, only six years old she's one of those worth her weight in gold horses.

Three-year-old Tuff is personality man, pretty palomino, can't get enough attention and smart as a whip. Sometimes a little too smart. I taught him to shake hands in one afternoon then had to try to unteach him when I realized how alarming it is to someone not expecting to have the nearest horse offer his hoof each time they hold out their hand. And if Tuff is in the vicinity, he's the nearest horse.

So maybe someone out there in Blog Land will find something to appreciate in my observations of my horses and the horse industry as a whole. Hopefully I can add a little perspective for people with horse issues of their own, and for the unfortunate horseless, a glimpse of a life that revolves around the kids.

All That Glitters Isn't Good Advice

Anyone who rides, loves horses or has a critter of thier own knows about the TRAINERS. The whisperers, the clinitians, these gifted horsemen and women who can do wonders with problem horses and polished performers alike and who are skilled in the art of convincing well meaning horse lovers to fork over their hard earned dough for a taste of what they do. Just the mention of some of the names; Lyons, Parelli, Hunt, Dorrance, Anderson and scads of others can strike panic into the heart of anyone who loves their horse.

"I don't do that the way so-and-so does! I must be ruining my horse!"

"I haven't bought the latest halter/round pen/saddle that such-and-such says you have to have. My poor horse!"

This trainer says to do it this way and whats-his-name said that never works. Although it worked with my horse until I found out it's never supposed to. So what now?

Of course old Blackie is standing in his pasture with burrs in his mane while his owner is in the house studying magazines, videos and catalogs hoping she never figures it out. After all, training isn't his idea.

Now I'm not saying that the trainers are wrong, or bad or even off-base. I too have been greatly impressed with what they can accomplish and a whole movement has been started to turn horses into partners rather than slaves. My problem is that I see too many people become steadfast converts to one particular person or method. Like religious fanatics they follow, copy and buy whatever is dictated.

I have found in my experience that horses are individuals. As much as people are. What works for some may not work so well for others. I have followed trainers advice on certain training principles to the letter with one horse and abondoned their ideals completely with another. And I have even gone so far as to (gasp!) make up my own ways and you know what? They worked! I have two happy healthy horses in spite of the fact that I use a mish-mash methodology.

My point is that you know your horse. You decide what you will both be comfortable with. I advocate listening to other's opinions, then forming your own. Use your own head and don't be afraid to use your own ideas! If you feel you are in over your head, by all means, seek a professional. But one thing I know. You will build a much better rapport and working relationship with your horse if you spend your time with him, instead of a stranger on a video tape.