The Convoluted Journey of Getting to Trust

 (A walk on the trails.)

Hello again! After yesterday's post, I thought it was better to write an actual post, so as not to leave it out there hanging. I'm going to do my best to give you a general picture of what has been happening, rather than going day by day by day.

I was making good progress with Tweed this spring, working with my trainer a couple of times, and spending a lot of time at the equestrian park working on obstacles, arena, and trails. I think last I left off in the posts, the plan was to make the arena hard and the trails fun.

Well, all that training came to a screeching halt due to a trip we made to Texas, and then a number of other events and family gatherings, bad weather, and LIFE. Tweed went 2 1/2 weeks being a pasture ornament with his little mare herd. He got fat. He got lazy. And, he developed a preference for spending his days grazing.

Insert me into that idyllic picture. Come on, Tweed, jump in the trailer and let's go work and play! Tweed, being the sucker that he is, trusted me, jumped into the trailer, and loaded happily to the park.

I started our training with easy days, lots of wins. When Tweed did everything I asked of him, and remained relaxed and willing, we didn't waste much time going home and letting him graze again. All was good.

I decided to meet a friend for a longer day at the park. My plan was to work with Tweed, rest, work, rest, work--all day, and get him used to being away from home for longer again.

The first half of that day went pretty well, but Tweed wasn't as soft as usual. There was definitely some resistance. It wasn't bad, but it was definitely there. He was making an effort to go along with everything we were doing. He was also playing off the other horse. All in all, I would have considered that morning a success. Obstacles, arena work, cone patterns ...all good.

We had lunch, the horses rested tied to the trailers, and then I made a decision to start the second half the day.

Well, that started off a bit more rough. Three new horses came into the picture, and Tweed used that as an opportunity to be very distracted and worked up. As we made our way through it, he worked up quite a sweat. It was hot, humid, and he was done. But I took him into the arena again to stand and watch my friend do another pattern. 

As we stood there, he began to toss his head and root around the reins and act like he wanted to roll. I turned him in circles, kicked him forward, and kept him busy. It escalated. Pretty soon, he wasn't going to stay up, and I felt his front knees buckle. I jumped right off and he popped back up, surprised, and I worked him on a circle from the ground.

Well, now I'd gotten into it and had to stay at the park to work it through. My friend had to go home, so there I was at the park, alone with Tweed again, in a battle of the wills. And then it started to thunder, huge, loud booms--a storm was on its way. We loaded as quick as we could and got home. The storm came through and lasted a couple of days. It turned out that some of my friends had trouble with their horses, too. Lots of bucking, rearing, and refusals. I felt lucky not to have had any of that. 

Since that day I have made a few changes to my work with Tweed :

1. Be careful NOT to push him to the point where he shuts down, and / or be more sensitive to the signs that he has shutdown.  For example, that day, since all I was doing was standing watching my friend on the cones, I could have dismounted and watched from the ground. 

In fact, I had a breakthrough this week that that is one way to reward Tweed. He loves to see me and get praise from the ground for a job well done. As a green horse, he isn't as rewarded when I do it from the saddle yet. I have made a big change in our work to take advantage of that. I divide our time into blocks, and when each block is finished, I dismount, praise Tweed, and spend some time with him from the ground. When we're ready for the next block, I remount (it's easy to get off and on him) and do the same thing over again. 

2. More attention to BIG rewards! I discovered Tweed likes to be rewarded from the ground, but he also likes to be rewarded with food. I ran into some young ladies at the park who are working with their own horses, and we have joined together to help each other with trail work. One of them was a trainer, but she quit taking outside clients because people were often hard to work with, and dishonest. She is very good with her three horses, and they had a willingness and softness that I admired. She recommended I ride Tweed out on the trails, dismount, halter him, and let him graze, teaching him that the trails are where he should want to be. I think that's smart, and I've started doing that.

3. Give Tweed more opportunity to make mistakes, and stop supporting him all the time with my legs and reins. This came to me from watching Ryan Rose videos. He wanted us to give our horses a loose rein and see if they'd remain straight walking out. If they didn't, let them fully commit to moving off the line, and then turn them 180, then immediately drop slack into the reins (so they know this isn't a punishment) and ask for a straight line again. Well, I tried that with Tweed and it worked great. He figured it out super quick, and he wants that slack rein. So, a lot of our work now will be to get him to step up and take responsibility. I've been doing the same on the trail.

This is quite different than my work with Leah, when I was starting her on the trails. Leah seemed to like that connection with the bit and reins, and I had to support her with it for a long time as she built up trail confidence. Tweed does not seem to get support from that kind of contact. He prefers a loose rein. Green trail horse. Loose rein. Hmmm...I have a dilemma, don't I? I plan to solve it in small increments, with the help of my new trail buddies. We're going to ride out together, ride apart from each other, and introduce a number of short trail scenarios to help our horses through the trail basics. When Tweed is relaxed and connected, he will get a loose rein. If he's not connected, he will have to do some work until he is, then he will get the reward of a loose rein again.

I see this post is getting long, but hasn't captured all of what's been happening. There are times I doubt myself, but then I look at the bigger picture and see everything I've got right. I continue to have faith in building slowly with an eye on the big picture. It isn't about just today, it's about the 30 years I might have Tumbleweed. It's about teaching him to like to work and seek that partnership. It's about trust, him trusting me, and me trusting him. There is no shortcut to that goal, so you better sit back and enjoy the convoluted journey!

Still Alive and Checking In

It has been a busy spring, but that's not my excuse for lack of posts. My excuse is that I'm in the thick of things with Tumbleweed, and I don't know how to properly reflect on it from day to day. I'm trying to get a broader perspective of where we've been, where we are, and where we want to go.

I can say this, and I think it's a big win, when I go out to get him in the pasture each day, he walks to me to be haltered. He wants the relationship, even if he doesn't always love the work. 

There have been some wonderful moments, some scary ones, too, and I will tell you about them all very soon.

I'm enjoying reading all your blogs, and love catching up. Happy Trails!

Still Working Toward That Happy Partnership

I had another long day at the equestrian park yesterday. It got really hot, upper 80's, but we took breaks in the shade. 

The day went better than Monday, but a little worse than Tuesday. (I Might be Crazy post).  Tweed showed resistance on the bridge, wanting to jump off of it, whereas, I was asking him to walk off  nicely. My solution was to work him in circles when he jumped off, and then let him rest on the bridge. It worked by bringing his emotions down and teaching him that the bridge was a good place to be, and not hot lava he needed to flee from by jumping.

I followed through with my plan to ride him out and then rest him on the trails. I tied him to a tree, and he didn't seem very concerned.

I rode him for 3/4's of our time out in the woods, and walked him about 1/4th to practice really steep, loose rock hills. He went down medium hills, loose rocks, with me riding him, very well yesterday, and didn't get nervous when he started to slide down a bit. He just went with it. But there was another, very long, steep hill that I thought it was better to practice on without a rider first. (I got some very good exercise walking up and down it. I'll refer to it as Heart Attack Hill.) Heart Attack Hill will be a very good hill to work Tweed up and down when he wants to run back to the trailer. 

During the walking portion of our adventure we ran into a deer, and I let him stalk it through the brush just so he knows he is the boss when it comes to deer. When I remounted, we came across some rental horses in a pen. They didn't do anything, but Tweed went on high alert, so I dismounted and worked him around them. He never fully relaxed, so we will going back there the next time down.

Back at the arena I made a new friend. She was there all day with her two horses for the first time, and she moved her trailer over by mine. She was really sweet. 

We have a lot of work to do with our trot and lope. Still getting used to each other.

I still subscribe to Ryan Rose Horsemanship, and received a new training video yesterday when I got home.  It was on circles with horses, (very timely).  He wasn't a big fan of the circles, and suggested better patterns, but as for the circle, he suggested we not steer them on it, and instead let them take responsibility. We should only be picking up the reins to steer them back onto it, but then release again. 

He actually prefers squares or octagons, because he wants them to move out straight and then see how well they respond to sharper turns on the square, or slight turns on the octagon. Same principle. Let the horse move out straight and only pick up the reins if they leave the line or don't turn with your leg and body pressure.

Our homework is to practice those concepts and make a video. The upper level homework is to do it all with no reins.

Why was this timely? Because I was on Tumbleweed's face too much, steering him in the circle, and he eventually started rooting at the bit. 

I have no doubt that he is bored with arena work, obstacles, trails--everything. He has made his preference clear, and it is to be with his mare herd out in pasture. I remind myself that we are only one week into it, at least the regular training and longer days. Even my trainer, Sarah, always has a rough first two weeks with horses coming back to work. It makes sense. 

We leave them alone all winter to fend for themselves as we wave to them from the warmth of our homes.

Spring comes and we're all, hey best buddy, let's go play out where all the wild animals live!

I have high hopes for spending more time with the horses next winter, thanks to the barn remodel. I'll have a room to warm up in while I groom the horses. I can even work with Tweed in the breezeway now that we won't be storing hay in it. That's 60' x 12'. 

Or, there's always this....head south with my hubby and Tumbleweed someday.

Back to Tweed.  My goal is to have him working all the trails from the equestrian area with relaxation, courage, and partnership. There are many hills to practice our ups and downs--and they vary in steepness and footing. There is water, wildlife, bikes, dogs, joggers, a little bit of everything. It's the perfect testing ground for us.

I feel good about where we're at right now.

I Might Be Crazy

Yesterday I had a lesson with my trainer, and we rode the trails together. My goal was to work on going up and down hills with Tumbleweed, working on his speed, and stopping to rest midway up and down the hills.

I warmed him up on the obstacles, the arena, and short trails before she arrived because he had been left alone for five days, due to us having company in town. Everything was going pretty well, except a big spook for a deer in the woods. 

Rebecca arrived and we stood together letting the horses rest near one another. Everything was still good. Then we took off down the trails, and besides his goofiness riding with another horse he didn't know, he was still listening and trying.

But when we circled around to a hill we'd already done, Tumbleweed decided he was done. He started shaking his head, which we first assumed was a swarm of bugs (it might have started that way) but then it quickly progressed to jumping up in front and trying to race back to the trailhead, which he knows we were pointed towards.

I dismounted and worked him there on the trail. Mounted again. Same thing. It went on like that getting bigger and bigger, rather than smaller and smaller. Basically, I was dealing with two issues, maybe three: 

1. Barn sour (trailer sour)

2. A 2 hour work ethic

3. A coming electrical storm which had all the horses on edge

No matter, the same solution.

I was glad to have Rebecca there. She thought it was important I ride him out, rather than walk him out (which I was tempted to do). She told me to calm down, find my seat again, and direct him with my legs and seat, very little reins, and let him get right up on her horse's butt. 

We did that, but he was still worked up and pissed off, and he took a bite at her horse. I corrected him. Rebecca explained that it was normal, and that he was just taking out his anger on that horse, who was now the bad guy, rather than me. 

We rode like that until we got into a clearing, and then Tweed relaxed and rode further away from that horse on a loose rein.

When we arrived back at the trailhead, I released Tweed into the roundpen because I was going to work him (a new strategy: rest him on the trails, work him at the trail head). Well, he went ripping around bucking and snorting. Rebecca and I looked on, amazed. All that frustration and anger and anxiety was in him that whole time, yet he'd somewhat kept it together. 

This was not the worst of it, because it's about ten minutes later, but it gives you a little taste.

I worked him, then returned to the trailer, where he pawed and eventually pulled back really hard. I was watching the whole thing from my chair in the shade, and called my husband to bring me down a stiff drink to calm my nerves!!

I was in the waiting it out game, and I HAD TO WIN!!

I had arrived that day at 11, got back from the trail ride at 2:30, and left the park at 6:30, but I had, indeed, won.

Tweed had relaxed, his sweat had completely dried, and I took him through the obstacle course. Obstacles he usually balked on, he walked over without hesitation. Something had clicked, and he knew he had to submit in order to get home.

When I got home, I let him free in the pasture, and he ran like a banshee to mama Foxy to tell on me. Later, we ran them back in, and I saw him near the fence mutual grooming with Beautiful Girl. He stopped what he was doing, and he turned toward me as I walked by, and just stared like he had a new respect.

Damn right.

_____

Fast forward to today. Would Tumbleweed let me catch him? 

Yes. He doesn't have to like it, but he does need to respect it. He stood for me to halter him.

Out on the trails today, he made a liar out of me. I ran into several of my friends down there, and I told them about what happened yesterday. Then they watched me working with him--the new plan--work him hard at the trail head and arena, and rest him out on the trail in the trees, and he did everything perfect and quite beautifully. They were ooohing and awwwing over him, and two of them even said that he'd make a gorgeous dressage horse!

One of my friends yelled at me, "You're a liar!!" Then laughed. I shouted back, "Yes, I'm a big fat liar!!"

Here are photos of us resting in several spots along the trail and in the woods.

We have a long way to go, but I am reminded that there are no shortcuts. I'm thankful that I had the time to spend yesterday to win the fight. I spent a lot of time alone (because my husband thought it was boring and abandoned me) and everyone at the park went home and left us there. But I won. Tumbleweed is a smart horse, and he knows exactly what that means : If I ever want to go home, I better do what this crazy lady wants!

A Super Surprise Present, A Lesson, and finally a Blog Post

I had a wonderful birthday last week.

First, Hope and Cierra helped me win Aurora's Foaling Contest!  Thank you, Hope, for being born on April 10th. 

Aurora is so creative and generous. She surprised me with this print. 

Be still my heart!

If you follow my blog, you probably know how perfect it is : "Souls Connected." Indeed.  Thank you, Aurora, for blessing me through your blessing of little Hope. I plan to frame it and place it in a special place near my piano, where I can see it everyday.

My birthday fell on a Tuesday, and we have a recurring Taco Tuesday night with our family. For my birthday, my husband purchased a set of clay plates and bowls made in Mexico. They livened up our table, along with the chile pepper lights!

We went to the Mexican Deli / Store earlier that day and picked up some pastries and ordered their fresh masa, which is only made on Thursdays.

It was a fun night.

The weather is very chaotic. In fact, I was in my truck hauling Tweed to the park this afternoon and had to turn around because of a hailstorm that they did not predict. But we did it make it to the park another day.

Tweed did well on the obstacles, but I discovered that it is best to warm him up attached to a lead, rather than letting him run free in the round pen. He got too worked up, and I think he needs the support of the lead right now. 

*****

FAST FORWARD.

I didn't get to publish the above post because I have been so busy this week! Since I wrote it, my 3rd attempt, by the way, I had a lesson with Tumbleweed at the park.

A couple things. First, I realize I am not fully myself, or fully happy, when I'm not on my horse, because after riding Tweed yesterday, I felt myself again. As soon as I mounted up, it was like this swoosh of something I cannot describe. 

I think it has to do with being vulnerable. It is a vulnerability that demands something more of my relationship with Tweed, because I am at his mercy. That feeling cannot be replicated on the ground. 

Much of my life has been spent on horseback and it appears that it is my 'normal.'  It is the place where I have experienced the most joyful moments, made more poignant because they are shared with my horse, and they always have a sense of something otherworldy, even scary, but that emerge into this beautiful...dance.

Does that make sense?

****

Now, I'll backtrack a bit. 

I have been working with Tweed about being less emotional during transitions. When I ask for walk to trot, he doesn't care, but when I ask for trot to lope, he will get emotional. I have a method of setting him up for that ask, and I do it over and over and over, until the emotion is out of it, and he feels comfortable kicking up the energy and bringing it back down.

Rebecca and I met yesterday for our lesson down at the park, and I showed her our work. She liked it and suggested ways I could ask for even more--bring the energy up and down within the lope, and go back and forth more between the gaits, before I allow him to stop and rest. Basically, the same thing, but build on it.

I told her I wanted her to evaluate us for riding, and tell me if there are any holes I haven't seen. I think this self-doubt comes from my accident with Beautiful Girl, where I missed glaring holes, or didn't care about them--and paid the price. It wasn't fair to her or me, and I wouldn't want to do it again to Tumbleweed, who I need to carry me through the last of my riding days.

Rebecca asked me if there was something I was seeing that was causing me to worry. I told her there wasn't anything I was concerned about. What she saw is what I saw.  So, she closed her eyes, smiled, and shook her head up and down in an emphatic yes, yes, yes. He's more than ready. In fact, she said she thinks he is bored.

I mounted right up. Rode him around the pen, then side-passed him to the gate to open and close it, and out over the obstacles. 

She told me that when I can point him over anything--and he will attempt it--I will have successfully made a trail horse. I asked her, how do I do that? She answered, On the trail.

Of course, she's right. That's how I made Cowboy my trail horse (although, I don't think we accomplished her ultimate standard, he and I did come to an understanding). And it reminded me of all the great advice I got about developing him on the trail. 

1. He can have one ear on something else, but he should always have one ear on me. If I lose both ears, I have to put him to work to get his attention back: up and down hills, circles, over logs, whatever it takes and is safe and available. 

2. Don't mount up at all unless you have his attention. (That's very basic, but such good advice. I didn't have Beautiful's attention the day of our wreck, not even slightly.)

3. If he has an issue on the trail, for example, not paying attention down a hill (that happened last year), stop and work him up and down the hill until he gets it right. Split it into smaller sections if you have to, but don't miss the opportunity to work through things and take as long as you need. Even if that's all you do, you will have accomplished so much for all the following rides.

Our next lesson is going to be a trail ride. Yeehaw!

Oh, and Epona had a lesson, too, and all I can say is she is a ridiculously smart horse. They took her over bridges, turned her around on the bridges, and loaded her in and out of our trailer, asking her to back out for the first time. No surprise, she did everything as if she'd done it all her life, with not a single refusal or concern.

I'm happy for Shiloh, because after having a baby, she needs a horse that doesn't make her feel unsafe. Epona is perfect for her, and I love seeing them grow together. Rebecca says she's loving it, too, and will get them a long way together this summer.