My Golden Boy

(Tweed worked up a sweat)

This horse. He is pouring his little heart out for me. ❤️

We had a lesson at the park yesterday, but beforehand I rode him in the round pen and arena myself while my trainer was giving another lesson. 

Tweed is hesitant about standing water, so we practiced our new skill of vertical flexion (I have a job for you to do), release and allow him to extend his neck to the job, and then do the job. 

It worked. 

Soon we were trotting through the water confidently and Tweed was very willing and proud of himself. 

In the big arena I practiced a skill I’d seen a trainer on Facebook do: walk a circle so your horse knows the exact pattern (he actually used cones), then ride them on the circle on a loose rein, only correcting them if they leave the circle or to check their speed. 

Well, that didn’t go so well. Tweed was distracted with all the other horses. It was, for lack of a better word, sloppy. 

About that time my trainer walked over, finished with her other lesson, and asked me what I was doing and how it was working. I explained it to her and she said that is a good exercise, but he’s not ready for it yet. 

The homework she’d given me (and that I’d practiced throughout the week) was to ask for vertical flexion and hind end engagement, then release the contact by small degrees to the amount of contact where Tumbleweed would CONTINUE to carry himself. If he stopped carrying himself, get him back into vertical flexion and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. 

She’s right, of course. That’s the whole point of what we’re doing, getting him to use that beautiful big hind end of his in the correct way. Strengthen him. Prepare him for those big old hills. 

It’s hard, hard work, and they want to escape it (like he did on the trail rides) so he found things to get scared about—like a dust devil with pine needles swirling our way. Oh. My. Goodness! Those ears went up. He froze. I couldn’t get him forward. He wanted to run away. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

My trainer yelled at me to make him face it. I did as I was told and she went to stand between us and his perceived monster on the outside of the arena. Then she told me to push him forward and get him back to work, vertical flexion, controlled speed. 

I did that too. It worked. 

She yelled out at me, “You just recreated what happens on the hills and got through it! Good job!”

I think I’m a slow learner, because it just now really hit me how ALL these things are tied together. I probably discounted the importance of the arena work. Why? I don’t know. The trainer who started him sure doesn’t discount that work. Nor does my current personal trainer. 

Anyway, we kept progressing to harder and harder work at the lope and that little horse of mine was trying so hard for me as I was STRUGGLING with correct inside and outside rein and seat and legs. My trainer was like, sit back! Further! Deeper! Further! 

I felt like I was lying down in the saddle, but she assured me I was only slightly back. 

It dawns on me now that I am learning to engage my own hind end as much as Tweed is learning to engage his. And guess what? It works. When you sit your butt in that saddle like you should, they respond. 

Afterward, I walked him around and visited with some of my friends and their horses. Gave him lots of scratches and love as we rested and enjoyed what was a beautiful 60 degree 🌞 day. 

Then unsaddled and groomed him and walked him around some more. 

I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to be there forever with my golden boy.