If I Can Do It, You Can Do It!

I'm just bumbling along, doing my best with what I know.  For example: riding bareback.  It has become my favorite way of riding.  You don't have to haul a saddle.  You stay warm.  Win. Win.  And, if I can do it--a 50 year old woman, YOU can do it!  (By that I mean those who are wanting to ride bareback already and don't have physical conditions that make this more dangerous.)

Cowboy.

Leah.

Here is a 15 second clip of what it looks like to lope Cowboy bareback.



My tips for riding bareback:

Practice on a rock solid horse.

Grip with your thighs.

Move with your horse.

Don't steady yourself with the reins.

Keep your head up and look where you're riding!! (More important than ever)

Loping is easier than trotting.

*****

Driving your horse in a circle.

For years, I didn't want to drive my horses because it looked so complicated watching the trainers do it.  I'd help out here and there, but I never trusted myself to take the reins.  That all changed when my trainer, Rebecca, taught me to drive a horse in halter.  The fear I had, that I'd create a bad accident, vanished, and that made ALL the difference.

So, say it with me....

If I can do it, YOU can do it!

Here is some video of me driving Bee today.  SPOILER: She was not at her best--which is GREAT, because you get to see the the good, bad and ugly of driving.  And, that's OKAY.

The end of Part 1 was a bit dicey.  Thankfully, we ALWAYS start in halter! You'll have to watch Part 2 if you want to see how we resolved it. (Starts out a bit windy and loud, but gets better a couple minutes into it.  I'll have to make another tape when the weather is calmer. But that's all part of getting out there every day!)



Where'd she go?  Find out in Part 2.

A Week In Snow

The really deep snow, the really slick ice, all coincided with a really sore tailbone.  You could say the fates conspired against me, and my training program, last week.  In fact, as I sat here this morning, I had a hard time remembering what I'd done this week, so I consulted my phone for photos.

Monday, January 8, 2018: Worked Leah and Bee, cleaned the barn, wrote a blog post.

Tuesday, January 9, 2018: Sore tailbone, lots of ice outside, stayed in and cleaned the house, then went to work.

Wednesday, January 10, 2018: Had coffee with my cowgirl friends, then went to work.

Thursday, January 11, 2018: Was supposed to fly out to Omaha, but a storm here, and a storm there, caused us to cancel our flight and stay put, to take care of the horses.  We ended up getting over 6" of snow that day, and we went no where.

Friday, January 12, 2018: The temps started to warm up, and melt everything, and we started digging out of the snow.

(Pictures of the day it started snowing)

Friday afternoon, we went shopping and ended up buying a Nespresso machine.  It makes much richer coffee than Keurig.  The pods are a bit spendy, but the quality of java makes it worth it.

Friday night, my husband and I walked our property in the dark--through the snow--with the dogs at our heels.  The snow makes it bright enough to navigate easily.  After our walk, we had a date in my Cowgirl Cave--scotch, cigars, and the Echo Dot playing a steady stream of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash.

"Save your love through loneliness, save your love through sorrow. I gave you my loneliness, give me your tomorrow."

Saturday, January 13, 2018--Colt Starting Clinic with Beautiful Girl.

(Bee getting ready to walk over with all the gear.  I have her wear the bridle at all times, to get her used to it. She's really not as thin as she looks in this photo.)

Bee got to stand around a lot while we watched the others work in the round pen.  The snow was coming off the roof, in a loud fashion, and it caused her to pull back several times, but she adjusted.  It was good for her.

What I learned at the clinic was really fine-tuning what I already know:

*When round penning, and she's nervous and not listening, find ways to get her to tune into me--snapping my fingers, waving a hand, lots of transition--whatever works.

*I already do a lot of driving from behind Bee, but we worked on driving her in the circle.  It was good for her because the outside line was on her butt and legs a lot--causing her to kick out and buck a little bit until she got used to it.  It was good desensitizing.  Another participant at the clinic didn't feel comfortable driving her own horse, so I asked if she wanted to practice with Bee.  She did, and they did great together.

Sunday, January 14, 2018:  Ride Cowboy

I remember, not long ago, when I was riding three horses a day.  My tailbone injury, and the ice, has slowed me down.  But I was feeling well enough Sunday to ride Cowboy bareback.

I took it easy and stopped a lot to give him neck massages.  When we were done, I slipped off and gave him a nose to tail T-touch session.  He melted and followed me all over, with his head on my hands, as I tried to gather everything up and leave.  It was so sweet, I couldn't leave him.  So, I sat on my overturned trough and just spent the  most wonderful time being with him.  He was like a puppy.

I was thinking about it last night, as I was trying to fall asleep (a problem I have--thinking too much at bedtime)--I was trying to find a way to describe how my love for Cowboy feels.  First, he has been with me for almost 30% of my life!  That is a lot of wrapping around one another.  And, my journey with him has been so bumpy--times I thought I would lose him, times he surprised me and recovered, scary situations we got ourselves into--fights, makeups, growing old together, sharing pain together.  When I think of love for him, I think of these words:

joy, fragility, hope, sorrow, pride, comfort, awe, vulnerability, heart-bumps, heaven, laughter, miracles, friendship, gratitude.

That was my week in snow, and today the sun is shining super bright--I have the day off--and I'm heading to the barn.  Here's another word--GLORIOUS!

Hope and Possibilities

Yesterday, as I was walking Bee to the barn next door, Cowboy saw us leaving and came running , full out, across the East Pasture to me. He was prancing around and trying to rush through the gate.  He'd just had breakfast, and I didn't have anything he would want.  Not to mention, going to the barn next door always scares him.

Why was he running to me? Why this need to be with me?

I thought, What is this all about?  Is it some harbinger from above? Some warning to be careful with Bee today?  That wasn't too much of a stretch, since I was alone at the barn, should anything happen, and a friend of a friends is in a coma right now from a brain bleed after a horse accident.

After an hour working Bee, where I was very cautious and all went most excellent, I started to walk back home.  While I was still on the neighbor's property, but almost to the gate, Cowboy, who was grazing at the end of the pasture, saw me and again came running, full bore, to the gate!

He was prancing, even dancing, by my side, like I'd been gone for 3 days, he was starving, and I was bringing him food.  Cowboy, I said, what is it with you.  You're acting so weird.  As I lead Bee, he walked with me, through the east pasture, through the turn out, all the way to the gate in front of my tack room.

Bee had  her ears back, as if she was annoyed, but not dangerously so.  She seemed to be saying, Hey, get out of here, bud, this is my time.

I praised her for not kicking out at him.

I unsaddled her as fast as I could, as Cowboy watched us with his head hung over the rail of the fence. Then, I walked back into the turnout, switched Bee for Cowboy, took him over to the overturned trough, stood on the precarious, slick trough asking Cowboy to come closer and closer so that I could swing my leg over his bare back without falling.

He did.

Inch by inch.

I jumped on and we went off on our daily ride through the pastures: walking, trotting, loping.

It was an amazing day with Cowboy, and I couldn't get it out of my heart or mind.  I was tossing and turning in bed last night, and it came to me--how I always say, I think in heaven the horses we loved will come running to greet us.

It’s true.

******

You can imagine, living in "heaven," with a horse like Cowboy calling my name, how difficult it is for me to go to work nowadays.  It's getting harder and harder and harder.  My spirit is home with my horses.  An hour away from them feels like 10 hours.  It's driving me crazy.

My husband has noticed it because we work together--which, of course, is the upside of my work.  He and I have been talking a lot about how to fix it, and we think we have a solution.

I won't know for a few weeks, but we may have found a way to work from home together.

******

The other thing that kept me up last night was wondering if that crazy behavior of Cowboy's was some final goodbye.  Is he going to colic tonight?  Did he have some sense it would be our last together?  (I tend to overthink everything).

I ran out to the barn this morning to see Cowboy, the orphan, the outcast, my heart-horse, before work.  He was healthy and happy.

Bee came to see me, too.

Leah did her best imitation of an ostrich sticking its head in the sand, but for her it was the round bale.

Now, I'm off to work.

Would You Like To Dance?

"So much wasted time."

David Cassidy's last words as he was dying.

When the nurse told me to “go to my happy place,” she said I told her it would be the horses. (My husband and children gave me a bit of grief about that!)  I woke up feeling euphoric, just as the nurse was telling my husband the story. It felt right. It felt like I had truly been with my horses.

I’ve written before about how it feels for me to climb into the saddle—it’s like a swoosh of endorphins flooding my brain. I also have this image of heaven, my herd galloping to meet me when I pass over. It gives me comfort. I love my family with all my heart, but my relationship with the horses is other-worldly. I hope the readers will understand what I mean, and maybe even be able to clarify it more, in the comments section.

Yesterday was the first day I was able to work with my horses—Cowboy, Leah, and Beautiful--since the heart ablation.  I didn’t expect it to be any different, but it was. Something had changed in me, a way of communicating. It's as if, when they fixed my heart, they also helped it to feel more vividly the emotions of my horses.

The idea of The Dance became clearer and shifted from a--

We're going to dance!

To a--

Would you like to dance?

I had more patience to ask and wait for the give.  More patience to see it as a series of dance steps, rather than a whole dance.  And, this great understanding that learning the steps to the dance is not wasted time, but rushing the dance or not dancing at all IS wasted time.

Seeing it that way, I was able to get insight into my relationships the three horses I worked with, and I want to share it and ask you to leave a comment explaining how you see your own dances with your horses.

******

Cowboy.

As I tried to take Cowboy's picture, he wanted to come to me.  He didn't want to graze.  He didn't want to walk back to the herd.  He wanted to dance.  With me.

We are those long-time dance partners you see on the dance floor, feet shuffling back and forth, back and forth, hands held tight--knowing the rhythm, the steps, the give and take.  Imagine the most perfect couple out on the dance floor, the one that just has you mesmerized, and then look over to the side at the ones who aren't that good, but you can tell they've been dancing together for a long time, too.  That is us.  Cowboy and me.  There is still a bit of tension here and there, but we've learned to dance together and we're used to each other.

Cowboy doesn't like the tango.  We don't do the tango.  We only dance the ones he likes.  For the most part, I lead, but there are some steep or rocky sections, where I let Cowboy choose the path, and he always gets us where we need to go.  Opening and closing gates--the tap-tap on his side--he scoots over a wee bit. A gentle squeeze--he takes one step--a gentle squeeze--another step.  He hears me softly say, "Whoooaaaa," and he stands still enough that I can reach down to the chain and unlatch the gate.

Dancing with Cowboy wasn't always this easy or fun, but it is  now.  I wish I'd been a more patient partner in the early days, but he has been forgiving.  Nowadays, we dance as much as we can to keep his body going in his older age. 

****

Leah.

It struck me that I'd been stepping on Leah's toes a lot as we've been learning to dance together.  She's a gentle soul, takes everything deeply, doesn't want to make missteps--and I need to honor that. 

Yesterday, we danced on the ground first.  I worked with her at a trot, in circles, all around the arena.  We danced over the poles, around the barrels, along the rail.  She was a lovely partner.

I wanted a plan in saddle.  What dance would be learning?  Which steps did we need to learn?

I decided the dance was opening the gate (without actually opening the gate), and the steps would be moving off my leg and learning the gentle--one step forward--stop and rest--one more step forward--stop and rest--side pass, side pass--rest--don't be frightened of me bending over--rest--don't be frightened of the sound of the chain clinking against metal--rest. We could call this the waltz, and our practice a dry run.  No music.  No putting the steps all together.  Just work at learning the subtle shifting, counting--gentle pushing away and pulling in.

******

Beautiful Girl.

If you can't dance well together on the ground, how can you possibly dance well in the saddle? 

Bee had a week off, and she was on edge.  She wants to learn to dance, but but she thinks she knows the dance already--and constantly attempts to take the lead from me.  Her dance is one of self-preservation--I heard a sound, let's get the hell out of here!  She is in the early stages of the steps: getting used to the feel of bridle and bit, the tug of a rein, the pressure of a leg, the weight of a rider. 

Yesterday, we worked on the ground dance.  At first her trot was fast and fearful, but we twirled around the arena in circles until she slowed down and tuned into her dance partner.  At that point, she watched the up and down of my left hand as it urged her to continue forward over poles and tires.  She felt the tug of my right hand guiding her forward, then into a circle, then forward, then over a pole, then forward, then into a circle--and so on. 

We have quite a few steps to learn together, but working with her, and the others, is my happy place.  Why rush the dance?  Those older couples you see on the dance floor probably didn't look so great when they were first learning.  The element of TIME is essential. Forgiveness.  Togetherness. And just plain wanting to dance together in the first place. 

This is not wasted time. 

It's precious time.