Yesterday was a Katie Day, as I babysat my grandson and dealt with a painful cracked tooth. The tooth had been bothering me for a few months, but they couldn’t pinpoint the issue at my last appointment. It finally made itself fully known, and hopefully will be resolved at my emergency appointment this morning.
It was raining off and on, but Katie wanted to ride anyway. Needless to say, we had the entire park to ourselves.
I took photos of wildflowers as I waited for them to get back.
Arrowleaf Balsamroot
Biscuitroot
Serviceberry
When they got back to the truck, it had stopped raining and we stood and talked for a few minutes.
Tweed, looking tired
She had ridden him down to the river and taken him in, then rode back up a set of hills we had an issue with last year, (he wanted to go up them faster, since they’re steep), but was easily checked. All and all, she said it was his best ride yet. He was fully there for her.
We didn’t have a mare that day, which probably helped. And I’d given him his first, very small, dose of chasteberry that morning, but that shouldn’t have made a difference so quickly. Katie said he definitely wasn’t “dull.” He still looked at scary things, like some graffiti on a building by the river, and a man and dog who popped out of nowhere. He didn’t love the rainy deluge either. She said he looked back at her like, really, we’re going to do this? But trudged on with good energy.
If I’m going to ride between now and our next Katie Day, I will have to Cowgirl up like she did and brave the rain.
But first, I have some tooth business to attend to.
Yesterday was my birthday, and what will be the last year of my 50’s. It started out appropriately for such an occasion, I was still sick with the grandson’s cold, thus a little tired and loopy. It was the perfect excuse to do nothing.
Nothing can, actually, be quite nice. No expectations. No rushing around. Just a blank slate of a day “to be.”
My kids and grandkids came mid-afternoon bearing more flowers.
And my favorite Bundt cake.
We had a laid back dinner, opened presents, and then sat and visited for a few hours.
When I went to bed last night, it was easy to be thankful. As I’ve said before, I think gratitude is a super power. It is certainly good medicine, because today I feel almost fully back to normal.
One of my gifts was a favorite wine called, “God Only Knows” by Cayuse. I told them I’d save it and open it next year on my 60th.
“God only knows” what will happen by then, a lot can happen in a year, but I will try to remember to cling to thankfulness no matter what unfolds.
From the documentary, Path of the Horse
Small, small things:
One leaf touched by the sun, One small smell. When we are dying, I promise you, The memories you will have In your last seconds Are about these small things Touching our skin: One leaf, One moment with your child. Not the big things. We will remember the small things.
These small things are added To a fulfilled life, Or not.
Yesterday was Katie’s day to ride, and it was absolutely beautiful weather. You can see by the sweat, it was an eventful one. I had held off taking Leah down at the same time so that we didn’t have to work on herd bound stuff, but we’re introducing Epona to Katie next week, and she is even more bonded to Tumbleweed, so getting him ready by using Leah as “bait” was good exposure ahead of that.
After reading the blog post Shirley recommended from A Horse Crazy American in Germany I decided to order some chasteberry and try Tweed on it. I’ve joked that the mares who broke free of their owners, or tried to break free, and get to Tumbleweed did so because he was handsome, but now I’m starting to think they actually smell something on him, like testosterone. It’s not normal to see otherwise trained mares running to you across parks and trails, lead ropes dragging behind. Tumbleweed looked innocent in it all, just doing his job when (surprise) here comes a mare. But last week he also wanted to get to the new mare, then whinnied for her when they passed. Usually that behavior is reserved for his own mares. If the chasteberry diminishes his need to be the head stallion, collecting a harem of mares, just a little bit, that would be a welcome change. And it can’t hurt to try. (I’ll follow up on this after he gets started and is on it for a few weeks.)
Back to yesterday, I got to the park early and did some groundwork with Tweed, enforcing my circle and his speed. Indeed, there was resistance there, but it was easily corrected and he was able to hold his lope on the circle with minimal encouragement (and work) from me.
When Katie arrived, I talked to her about it and she did the same, which made her job in-saddle much easier. (“Lazy Tweed” was just a way of him “doing what we wanted—kinda”.)
How, or why, did he get so sweaty?
Well, that was a consequence of him wanting to speed up on the trail, and down hills, that he thought led him back to Leah. He did the things I experienced last year, but Katie addressed them by backing back up the hills he sped down or going up and back down again.
When she got to the trailer, she put him to work at the obstacle course, where he wasn’t paying enough attention, so back to the arena, where he offered her some small bucks of disapproval. She rode it all calmly until he relaxed into what she asked, but he added on an extra 30 minutes of work for himself.
Today I have a little head cold that I caught from my grandson, but it’s another beautiful day and I am free to ride Tumbleweed. I plan to ride solo and take him to the river, depending on how busy the park is and what frame of mind he is in when we get there. Friday’s at the park can be a bit much on the shared use river trail, bikers, hikers, dogs, and other horses.
Rant: For some reason, everyone with dogs down there ignores the strict ON LEASH rule. They are hardly ever ON LEASH. I feel like it’s futile to scold or report them because too many refuse to do it. They seem to think the equestrian area is also a dog park and everyone thinks their dogs are “very well trained,” so won’t chase a horse. So far, that has proven to be true, but it’s a matter of time before one isn’t.
All I can do is prepare Tweed, because it’s useless to expect dog owners to respect the rules. End rant.
I follow a lot of horse trainers and horse people on social media and sometimes their posts appear at the exact right moment. Some of them, like this one by Tim Anderson, are timely reminders of what I already know, but talk myself out of by saying, Maybe I’m being too picky. I get around other people who let things slide and roll their eyes when I nit pick, and I start to doubt myself.
His post was very long and detailed, but here is how it starts out, and I recommend reading all of it here.
The video above, which he linked in the comments, is an excellent example of how to bring our energy up without being aggressive. Those two things can easily get entangled, and I see it all the time, both in myself and others. I have learned to spot it in myself by the set of my jaw. I get that pissed off look like I’m ready to go to war. The good news is that I’m recognizing it faster in myself and then stepping back from aggression to increased energy. (From the link: Tim Anderson)
Increased energy is fair, not punitive. They do something dangerous, like coming too close into our space, we get them out by appropriate energy or force. It’s natural justice and they want those boundaries. It’s also in the moment and instinctual for them to challenge us like that. It’s not “bad” or “good” it’s just against the rules we have set for our relationship.
I addressed a lot of that boundary challenging with Tumbleweed in January when we started back up. He didn’t want to be away from his herd and he didn’t want to do what I asked. It was a battle over who was going to lead, him or me.
There’s not much of it left anymore.
Or, is there?
If you read the full post I linked, there is another manifestation of it, and it’s going too slow. That is why the post was timely. (More from the Tim Anderson link).
Before I ride Tumbleweed on the trail, we warm up on the lunge line and then in saddle in the arena. Last night, he was going really slow, what appeared to be “lazy.” He did the same thing with Katie the other day and she had to ride him hard to keep him going. I did the same thing, worked harder myself.
Often times, we’re glad to see “lazy,” as if it means we’re going to have a chill horse out on the trail. But it’s really another form of saying “no.”
Don’t get me wrong, we had a nice ride, and he led out and tried his heart out, but he was definitely more looky and a little more testing of the boundary to check his speed and come back into vertical flexion when things got scary. Just a little bit, but I noticed, and I’m proud to be picky.
Today I’m going to address that laziness on the ground and not just go along to get along. I want to see what he’s hiding under that seeming laziness.
Last night’s ride was pretty close to perfect, but I can see we are still after that last 5-10% where they melt into the partnership. Some of it is just being green and needing exposure, and I get that, but part of it is also his resistance to giving up that last 5-10%.
And he’s too good of a horse not to go for it all.
On another note, he has fully won me over. Yesterday, I was talking about Cowboy but kept referring to him as Tumbleweed.
It used to be the opposite issue.
Tumbleweed has captured my heart and mind and pushed everything else out. Basically, he has captured my obsession.
And that is something else that’s needed to get past the 5-10%.
I can’t believe it’s April already. We went away for a wine weekend and when we came back, a mere two days later, the flowers had popped open.
It is also spring break for our grandson, who I will now refer to as Pilot, since he is an avid collector of airplanes and has memorized most of the US airports, their call names, and all the types of airplanes who take off and land at them.
Grandpa and Pilot spend many hours tracking planes, then running outside to see them pass overhead. Grandpa even bought a laminated map for Pilot to see where the airports are located.
When Pilot isn’t tracking planes, he is tracking grandma out at the barn in his dump truck mama got him for Christmas.
Since it is spring break for Pilot, grandma cannot schedule any rides for herself. That is where the Katie Plan comes in handy.
We met yesterday and we will meet again on Thursday for her to ride Tweed. I will go to the park with my husband in the evening, tonight and tomorrow, to do my part. Having someone ride your horse is great, but there is no substitute for building the relationship yourself.
The fact is, there are upsides and downsides to every plan, but one of my goals for Tumbleweed has always been that anyone can ride him. I’m not getting any younger, and if anything catastrophic happens to me, I want him to be able to make his own way through this life. Being able to be ridden by multiple people is a good start.
The downside, as I mentioned, is that there is what feels like a watering down of the direct relationship between he and me, especially on weeks Katie rides him more. It may or may not be a real thing, but there is a part of me that wants to do it all and has a hard time watching from afar.
Then I see her do something like she did yesterday, where she ended their ride going Man From Snowy River style down a steep hill to the trailer, and I’m like, Nope, glad it’s her and not me.
It is amazing seeing what he’s capable of doing with her.
One funny moment from yesterday, though, was when I heard a high pitched whinny break out across the valley. I was like, please don’t let that be Tweed. But there were only two horses out riding so a 50/50 chance it was, indeed, him.
It was.
I asked Katie about it and she said it occurred when they rode past the business area for guided trail rides. A mare there locked onto Tweed through the fence and he wanted to go see her. Katie had him go past with no real trouble, but when they took the trail away from her he grabbed the bit and threw a hissy fit. Katie shut that down quickly and easily with a mere smack on the butt with her rein end, but as they left the mare he continued to call out for her, and that’s what I heard.
Oh, Tumbleweed. You really are a gelding, right? I mean, I saw them do the deed with my own eyes, so…yeah, you are.
Spring is just a beautiful, crazy time. Green grass. Mares in heat. And a young, fresh, good looking stud gelding out in the big world.
