Bound to the Herd Pt 2

So there I am, arriving at my lesson, and Tumbleweed all worked up about Leah leaving him. 

I wrote a few weeks ago about a lesson we had where my trainer brought her own horse and we worked Tumbleweed through herd bound issues. Riding up to, and away, from each other and many various exercises. 

The thing is, that mare was not part of his harem. 

Leah, though they do not seem particularly close when I watch them at home, is apparently very much a part of his harem. And, as such, under his “protection.” (Must be nice to be loved, huh Leah?)

Regina was finishing up with another lesson, so I put Tweed into the round pen and asked my husband to help me with a training moment. 

My plan was to have husband take Leah away and only bring her back when Tweed settled. 

Relax. You get your mare back. 

Freak out: She goes away. 

It started to work, and he mellowed to the point that I joined him in the round pen. He immediately joined up with me and followed me everywhere. 

If he left me, Leah left. When he joined up, Leah got closer. 

And then my trainer came over. 

She was impressed with how locked onto me he was by that point, but suggested I put his halter and lead on him in case he kicked out or flipped around. She wanted me to have more control and a safer plan. 

Then, she asked me to do a ground exercise we had done before.  Lunge Tweed on the circle at walk, then trot, but when his tail got passed Leah, ask him to stop and square off with me. Then do it again and again and again, until his attention was fully on me. 

After that, we asked my husband to take Leah out of his sight, and then worked more on the same thing. 

When we fully had his attention, we left the round pen and went to the obstacles so that he would have to think about his feet. 

We started at the labyrinth, using it as something for him to watch out for as I continued the circle work. Then, we progressed to the ladder (he was great at that) and finally the bridge, circling him on and off of it as his mare, Leah, disappeared. 

We ended in the arena working on gait changes and “attention to attention.” Tweed had lost much of his interest in Leah by that time, but would occasionally lift his head to look for her. Regina asked that I move his head down when he did that, and then release as soon as he kept it there. (Similar to asking for vertical flexion in saddle, but from the ground.) For Tweed, that helped him to relax and, eventually, give up looking for her. 

By the time we were done, he was standing at my side like a perfect gentleman and hadn’t even broke a sweat. 

We talked about the different approaches, one being to “take their lungs from them,” and the other to engage their mind and attention.  At least for Tumbleweed, it does not pay to run him in circles. That only reinforces there is something to be scared about. It is what he wants to do. 

For him, he needs thoughtful redirection and quiet energy and focus. I’m still using movement to reinforce it, but it’s much quieter and controlled, and ends quickly with facing up and waiting for more communication. 

I asked Regina if she thinks his herd bound issues are pretty normal for his age and time of year, and she just smiled and said “Oh yeah! Yes, yes, yes.” She told me to bring Leah to all our lessons and she will either hold her or, if my husband can ride, he can join our lessons as the “herd bound bait.”

I also asked her how long it takes to get past it. 

Her answer was very interesting. She said that if I handle it the wrong way, it could take a very long time, if ever. However, if I handle it the RIGHT way, like we did that day, it will be over very quick. 

I said, “well, it helps to have you here directing us. What happens if you’re not here, and I do it the wrong way?”

She told me to do what we did there and “match his energy.” By that she means to stay calm, don’t get big or mad, just keep applying the basic principles until he settles. 

It is a great feeling when they are so tuned into us that even their harem mares cannot break the bond. 

After I put him up, I was walking out of my barn “sanctuary” and saw this painting I did while Cowboy was still alive. It is of Cowboy receding and Tumbleweed dominating the scene. 

At that time, it seemed impossible, but here I am now, building that same bond with Tweed. It doesn’t come easy. It’s not handed to us on a silver platter. It is forged through doing the hard work. 

On another note. Something is eating my plants! Any ideas?

Bound to the Herd Pt 1

At our house we put an emphasis on horses living naturally. In fact, we don’t go as far as I want to. In my perfect world, I would have a large open barn where the horses could all come in together, and leave, at will. I’ve seen that set-up, and it is my preferred. 

I have a friend who spent a lot of time constructing a track system for her horses, and it encouraged constant movement over differing terrain, mimicking the wild. One of the benefits of that is constant hoof trimming. I was impressed. (She has gotten out of horses since then.)

I think you do still need stalls for the horses who have to be separated for special needs, but in my opinion, they should be used sparingly. 

All of this is strange to say since I just set up my barn based upon the traditional system. I think I did it because I had so many horses with special needs at the time. Since then, I’ve lost two of them and the herd is much more together—free feed, loafing sheds, and turned out together in dry lot and / or pasture.  

Anyway, it does create a challenge in spring. They’re a little too needy of each other. So, in my other “perfect world,” I’d have only one horse, Tumbleweed, and his only friend would be me. That wouldn’t be fair to him, of course, unless I moved into the barn.  

Fast forward to last Wednesday. I had a lesson at the park and my husband was able to go with me and bring Leah, my old trail horse who he plans to ride now.

Leah had a birthday on Monday. She turned 20.

When we arrived, my trainer was giving another lesson.  We groomed the horses and then my husband walked off with Leah to the obstacle course. 

At that point, Tumbleweed lost his shiiieettt. 

And a friend rode up to talk to me.

Friend: you just missed it.

Me: What?

Friend: a horse got loose and ran all over the park. Ran up to Gunner here, who is wearing this new fringe breast collar, and when he pulled back because of the loose horse, he saw the fringe and blew up more.

Me: (speechless, as I watch my own horse whinnying, bucking, and striking the ground on the end of the lead I’m holding, says “just a sec.” Walks away towards the round pen, deposits monster into round pen, calls for husband to bring Leah back for a training moment. Needs to call friend and apologize for walking away.)

This is what I call a “found” training moment.

I will tell you what happened next tomorrow. Stay tuned.

An Update on Epona

Mother Nature seems to have gotten her months mixed up. April was sunny and warm, and May is all showers and clouds. 

I have been slowly planting my barn garden. I’m only planting two varieties of tomatoes this year. One is a yellow cherry tomato called Sunburst that I got from the “Tomato Guy” at the Perry St Farmers Market. He’s very passionate and knowledgeable about tomatoes. He usually sells Stupice tomatoes, but he didn’t have them this year, and they were sold out everywhere else I looked. Darn. They are such a great cold-weather tomato. I went with Early Girls instead, and I think they will be very similar. 

The thyme I planted last year has grown significantly, crowding out room for the basil. I bought some free-standing pots so that I can plant a few more herbs.

Haven’t decided which yet. Maybe dill. Cilantro? As long as I can trim them back before they go to seed. I wasn’t good at that last year.  

We planted a Japanese Maple in front of the barn. The cold winters here can kill them, but I’m hoping for the best. 

Looking for ideas to shield it when the time comes.  

Another photo of the thyme, which is starting to develop it’s white flowers and is so fragrant. 

I was at a plant sale last week and chanced upon this beautiful yellow / pink tinged rose. It’s perfume is what drew me. Just lovely, and it was on sale. 

I didn’t have a pot for it, but found this gorgeous terra cotta one at Home Goods for only $30. 

In other news, one of our sons graduated with his BSN this week, and we had a party for him at our house yesterday. Mostly family, and one set of his friends. 

It took my husband and I and our daughter about an hour or so to put these four letters together. 

You will all be surprised to know that I did NOT injure myself this time. 

We finally did get an update on Epona, and as I guessed, she has been struggling. She did change a lot this year, coming into season and moving up in the herd hierarchy. I’m glad she will be there for two months to work through it. 

My daughter is going to go down there next weekend and ride her for a couple of days, and I think that will help her turn the corner. 

Coming 4 is still so young. As I’ve found with Tumbleweed (and others) there can be huge changes from 3 to 4 and 4 to 5 and even 5 to 6. 

Seven seems to be the golden year of maturity, and it just gets better from there. (At least, in my experience.)

At any rate, that is one of the caveats of raising young horses, allowing them to grow, change, and struggle. They eventually settle into themselves. 

Speaking of, I have my next lesson on Wednesday, and since I haven’t been able to ride in between lessons as I heal up, it is so nice to have a horse who takes off where you left them. Tumbleweed is such a willing partner. Regina just keeps saying, “What a nice guy you have.” 

Nice, meaning gentle, kind, and trying. 

I never want him to lose that “try.”

Attention to Attention

I’m starting to feel like an invalid. After almost six weeks dealing with my foot, I rushed around, yet again, dragging a huge tree around the store and to my truck, and strained my back. 

When people look at what you’re doing with HUGE ASS eyes, you’re probably doing something, possibly, maybe kind of stupid. At the very least, you should stop, breathe, and consider your actions. 

I was too impatient to wait for the help that was coming. Or get a flatbed. Or call my husband. So many other possibilities. 

My punishment, let’s call it a reminder of that lesson life is trying to teach me, is riding my horse with a painful foot AND back. 

When we showed up for our lesson, I warned my trainer that I now had TWO impediments, but also Ibuprofen on board. (There will be a day, hopefully soon, that I show up with no health issues. I can’t wait for that day.)

We continue to work on bringing Tweed’s energy down, and that starts from moment one. We were in the arena lunging him, and whenever he put his attention somewhere else, I immediately disengaged his hind and brought him to a stop facing me. However, Regina wanted me to do it as we are doing in saddle, quietly, and let him find it.

In practice, he is at the trot on a line, and I approach his hind, as I do when I ask for the stop, but as soon as he slows down, I extend my hand out, as if inviting him to move on, but at a walk. Sound confusing? It was for him, too. But when he figured out what I was asking, we got some beautiful trot to walk and stop transitions.

In saddle, it was much of the same work in vertical flexion. We worked on smoother transitions and floaty, rounded movements. Since my back hurt, I was much more incentivized to post smoothly and not herky jerky. (I was trying to look at the bright side.)

Tumbleweed is so mature this year. He wasn’t in the mood to work yesterday, and he was looking for excuses to be flighty, like the brailing mule at the park. But I was able to get his attention back with so very little effort. I didn’t even canter him on the line. My trainer asked if I thought he needed it to run off some steam, and I said no, I felt his attention was where I wanted it and I could do the rest in saddle. She agreed. 

The key to everything is their attention. These lessons have drilled that into me. What does attention look like? How do I get it and keep it? And how quickly can I spot when I’ve lost it and correct. 

It has to happen early and fast, but those corrections can be so very soft if they have real purpose. In fact, they seem to accomplish so much more the softer they are, as it brings down the energy he’d rather amp up.

Regina has some new SOFT exercise for me to try at every lesson. Her philosophy has been perfect for Tumbleweed and me. It’s all about the partnership. Paying attention to attention. 

Come to think of it, I need to apply these lessons to my entire life. Less rush and buck, and more deliberate concentration. 

Exactly what life (and Regina) are trying to teach me. Slow. It. Down. 

Spring is a Dream

It is the twelfth of May, garden half planted

A stick of clay: brown horse, a star, a wish--

I thank my daughter for this

Mother's Day passed, for me

In my own mother's garden:

Her hostas and geraniums,

An old desk adorned with pots of flowers

Her pride in her garden

The same garden, silent for three years

Since my father died,

It once hosted tea parties

I remember him well with binoculars 

At that table, there--

Searching blue sky for birds--

Birthday parties, celebrations

So many gatherings

So many photos of what is gone

Yet, still unfurling

Stubborn, refusing to die

We laughted until we cried

And celebrated ourselves,

As only mothers can do

Unselfishly

What it means  

To plan your own celebration

And be happy you did

Only we understand 

Each other

 

It was all so you could gather 

with your children and grandchildren

In a beautiful space

Yes, I planted flowers for myself

And all who would come!

(Isn't that the definition of mother?)

Between my husband and I

There is but one parent left

I ask, is that a blessing

Or, a burden, to be left 

To rebuild your garden alone

There is no answer but this

We plant flowers, and dream of picnics under trees

We dream of children

Of days gone, of people gone

And, for a moment, to feel 

What it could feel like

To see them all return to us

All love return to us

At once