Ponies have gotten a bad rap. Half the population of adults in this country either had, or knew someone who had, a nasty little pony. A pony that would bite, buck, scrape off riders on fences, barn doors, or tree branches, assuming the pony could be caught in the first place. This pony was usually kept in a back yard, maybe had a stall in a shed, maybe was tethered on a rope. This pony had no training and very little proper handling, care, or feeding yet was expected to pull a cart and go riding. The pony survived on grass, bread, corn stalks, apples, carrots, birdseed, cereal or whatever anyone thought to feed it. From this pony, people formed an opinion of ponies in general. And it wasn't a good one.
The general population of ponies are, if not rainbow colored like a popular toy may lead one to believe, cute and fluffy. Even the ones that aren't cute, are homely enough to be so. They have little ears, long hair, big eyes and they are pint-sized. There is a society of show ponies that are pampered, groomed within an inch of their lives, and are more well-trained than secret agents. These are not the ponies you find in the first paragraph. They are a different species. Also a different genus, are the ponies that are actually small horses. Technically, a pony is an equine under 14.2 hands high (58"). There are some large ponies that are really just small horses and are regarded as such.
The first paragraph ponies are the Rodney Dangerfields of the horse world. They get no respect. Due to their size, they don't get structured training. The people small enough to ride them, are the ones who haven't had much training themselves, therefore being inexperienced and not qualified to teach a pony the path it should take in life and not balanced or strong enough to be delicate riders. These ponies are hardy and self-sufficient which allows them to survive in less than ideal situations but also lends them to the idea that they need to fend for themselves. It's akin to a naughty child who hasn't had a structured home life or good parenting. Can we blame that child for not knowing how to be a good citizen? No. Can we blame a pony for figuring out that a child's head is right about level with the clothesline when seated on said pony?
People will say that ponies are bad-tempered and conniving. I think they're just clever and not about to put up with any baloney. Ponies are like MacGyver. They're crafty. They don't know that they are little and cute. They think they are big and spectacular. There are two reasons ponies are disagreeable, one is the lack of formal training, the other is that they are too smart. Ponies know that they don't have to do a darn thing they're told to do. Unless there is food involved. The quickest route to a pony's brain is through its stomach. One of my students did a science project on "Things My Pony Will Eat". The list was long.
All ponies can be devoted, willing partners as long as they trust and have respect for their human sidekicks. One misstep though, and it's the clothesline for you, buddy.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Sentimental Journals
While looking for something completely different, I came across some of my riding journals from my college years. As part of my major, I took riding courses and as part of those courses, I had to keep a journal of the lessons. Journal entries had to include what the lesson was about, exercises we did, the theory behind those exercises and what we felt and learned during the ride. What we did not have to include was sarcasm, whining or silliness. I added those for free.
The journals I found were from my Junior and Senior years (1993-1995) and my instructor was new to the University. He knew what he was doing riding-wise, but he had no idea what he was getting into when he signed up with us. We were a group of mostly girls, there were only 2 male riders in the program, with varying levels of experience. Some of the riders thought they knew better than this new instructor. Some of them, like me, waffled between thinking we knew everything and wanting to quit because we thought we were failures. The poor man put up with a lot. I have since written him an apology.
The school had horses to use for lessons, but I also was lucky enough to have the use of a horse from a neighboring barn. The owners wanted him exercised so I got to ride the horse for free. This horse was a big gray Irish Thoroughbred named Wall St Whiz but called "Floyd". Floyd was a disagreeable old sod who was talented but also had major resistances. He was a nice jumper, other than the time he did a dirty stop at the last fence in a line of 4' bounces and I somersaulted over his head. That's a whole story on it's own though.
We were graded on our journal entries and surprisingly, my instructor did read them and made comments as well. My entries were often filled with discouragement as I struggled to grasp the mechanics of Dressage and dealt for the first time with uncertainty with jumping. After one particularly down-hearted lesson, my instructor begged me to try to find the positive parts of every ride. So after the next lesson, which was on my very favorite school horse (Welkin, a Dutch Warmblood) whom I was supposed to ride in an upcoming competition, I began my entry with, "I will try to be positive. I did not put draw reins on. If I ride Welkin with draw reins, I will not be able to ride him without them for the test and quadrille. I am positive of this." I always hated using draw reins but they were a common tool used in the program.
Another horse I rode few times was Star Trek, a stunning dark bay Thoroughbred who was unusually uncoordinated. A lesson with him resulted in one of the most original excuses I have ever come up with. We were supposed to be doing shoulder-in and using the mirrors to look for the three tracks of the movement. Shoulder-in was always my nemesis in school and here is one reason I gave for not knowing whether I got it right by looking in the mirror: "Star Trek is very dark so he blends in well with the wall and footing. I had a hard time telling where his legs were."
A lot of times, I didn't want to write about my lessons because they went poorly. An entry after a jumping lesson begins with "What a rotten ride. I Hate writing journals!" Part of this was my desire to ride the horses that were difficult or that no one thought I could ride. A noble pursuit, but an exercise in frustration most of the time. After one ride on Floyd, I wrote, "I don't feel like I have any control over this horse's body. He plows around swinging his haunches around as if they weren't attached to him." An interesting visual, if nothing else.
Jumping lessons seemed to take on a theme. The next jumping lesson entry begins with "I HATE WRITING JOURNALS." The very next entry, also a jumping lesson, deals with a problem I had with keeping my leg down in place thereby losing my balance forward. I wrote, "It all seems so simple when I think about it. Just keep your heels down, then your balance will stay back and you'll be able to follow the horse. HA!" This is followed by a sentence completely scribbled out and then in parenthesis "I decided not to be sarcastic."
Not every lesson had a negative reaction. After one lesson with Floyd I began my journal entry with "FINALLY! I broke through the crust surrounding Floyd's brain and actually got some quality work out of him. It was unbelievable, the drastic change in him from the beginning of the lesson to the end." Of course, the very next line is "The lesson began horribly." It was at that point, I was starting to get to know the curmudgeon a little better and despite the difficulty in riding him was becoming fond of him and began to develop pet names for him and included those in the journals. The entries following list him as The Gray Horse, Weasel Face, Ford, Pin Head, Rocket Butt and Raisin Brain (not because his brain was small but because he loved raisins).
I also was able to see a little bit of humor in my struggles. One thing Floyd was good at was being a longeing horse for mounted exercises. Usually. An entry for a longe lesson goes like this: "The problem was at the trot, Floyd couldn't decide if he was going to do Western Pleasure or harness racing... It's a little hard to do exercises where you take your legs off or hands go up or out when your horse keeps leaping out from under you.... Usually, when Floyd is walking or trotting he gets into a rhythm and sings a little song in his head. You've probably heard it before, it goes like this, 'Do you know the Muffin Man...' Well, today he was singing, 'Do you know the MUFFIN MAN!...' We did leg lifts, scissors, helicopter things, arm circles, pointing both hands up to the ceiling and pulling the ankle up to the hip to stretch the thigh down at the walk and trot. It's a really good thing I'm not writing this for English class because that last sentence was grammatically incorrect. In fact, it was so incorrect that if it were a walk trot rider, it would be on the wrong diagonal. But who really cares. We don't get graded on grammar in riding class. Or do we...."
It's considered, is what I found out. We also get graded on content, particularly the theory, which had been lacking in my entries. The rest of this day's lesson continues with, "I can sit better on Floyd when I have no stirrups than if I do. Are you allowed to drop your stirrups in a Dressage test? What would happen if you did? It doesn't say 'A- enter working trot sitting with stirrups'. I think that if they don't specify it we should be able to do what we want. I vote for no stirrups so you don't bounce. I guess I better stick some theory in here pretty soon so I can get an A."
"THE THEORY PART When you do leg lifts, you're really doing a half halt because you are sitting into the saddle. BUT, it can't be a real half halt because you take your legs off. You can't come down the center line and just before x, do a couple of big ole leg lifts. Your horse will halt with his hind legs at D and his forehand at G."
At one point, my room mate, Rita came home with me for the weekend. Apparently I had not done my homework before leaving because the next entry begins, "I really did plan to write my journal entry right after my lesson so that I would remember what we did. Honest, I planned on doing it. But then I went home for the weekend and I rode my pony and I never got around to it. I could tell you what I did when I rode my pony! We Galloped! A lot! That's about all we did! Rita galloped too! She rode Lady! And Ivy (a little)! It was fun! My pony is good at galloping. She doesn't want to be a dressage horse, she wants to be a Race horse."
I did learn things in my lessons. Things that I am trying to teach my students now. One of the most important lessons was about down transitions. "Part of Floyd's down transition is my fault. I find myself pulling too much on his mouth and not anchoring my seat into the saddle as I should. Floyd gets so strong on his forehand that I resort to sheer brute force to stop him. This is bad." The first part of learning how to do something right is recognizing what you are doing wrong!
Unfortunately, my struggles with jumping continued. Most of my trouble came from falling badly, again another story on its own, but also from the snide comments of riders in my lessons who felt they were much better than I was. They probably were better at riding over fences than I was, but I let their mean comments undermine my confidence which caused my riding to get worse, not better. The last jumping journal entry is no different from the others and begins, "Have I mentioned that I HATE WRITING JOURNAL ENTRIES!" Hence, my love of Dressage began to take over.
There are some other journal entries that are amusing or interesting enough to share but this post is approaching ridiculous proportions so I'll end now and write another at a later time. Unlike writing journal entries, I do not hate writing blog posts.
The journals I found were from my Junior and Senior years (1993-1995) and my instructor was new to the University. He knew what he was doing riding-wise, but he had no idea what he was getting into when he signed up with us. We were a group of mostly girls, there were only 2 male riders in the program, with varying levels of experience. Some of the riders thought they knew better than this new instructor. Some of them, like me, waffled between thinking we knew everything and wanting to quit because we thought we were failures. The poor man put up with a lot. I have since written him an apology.
The school had horses to use for lessons, but I also was lucky enough to have the use of a horse from a neighboring barn. The owners wanted him exercised so I got to ride the horse for free. This horse was a big gray Irish Thoroughbred named Wall St Whiz but called "Floyd". Floyd was a disagreeable old sod who was talented but also had major resistances. He was a nice jumper, other than the time he did a dirty stop at the last fence in a line of 4' bounces and I somersaulted over his head. That's a whole story on it's own though.
We were graded on our journal entries and surprisingly, my instructor did read them and made comments as well. My entries were often filled with discouragement as I struggled to grasp the mechanics of Dressage and dealt for the first time with uncertainty with jumping. After one particularly down-hearted lesson, my instructor begged me to try to find the positive parts of every ride. So after the next lesson, which was on my very favorite school horse (Welkin, a Dutch Warmblood) whom I was supposed to ride in an upcoming competition, I began my entry with, "I will try to be positive. I did not put draw reins on. If I ride Welkin with draw reins, I will not be able to ride him without them for the test and quadrille. I am positive of this." I always hated using draw reins but they were a common tool used in the program.
Another horse I rode few times was Star Trek, a stunning dark bay Thoroughbred who was unusually uncoordinated. A lesson with him resulted in one of the most original excuses I have ever come up with. We were supposed to be doing shoulder-in and using the mirrors to look for the three tracks of the movement. Shoulder-in was always my nemesis in school and here is one reason I gave for not knowing whether I got it right by looking in the mirror: "Star Trek is very dark so he blends in well with the wall and footing. I had a hard time telling where his legs were."
A lot of times, I didn't want to write about my lessons because they went poorly. An entry after a jumping lesson begins with "What a rotten ride. I Hate writing journals!" Part of this was my desire to ride the horses that were difficult or that no one thought I could ride. A noble pursuit, but an exercise in frustration most of the time. After one ride on Floyd, I wrote, "I don't feel like I have any control over this horse's body. He plows around swinging his haunches around as if they weren't attached to him." An interesting visual, if nothing else.
Jumping lessons seemed to take on a theme. The next jumping lesson entry begins with "I HATE WRITING JOURNALS." The very next entry, also a jumping lesson, deals with a problem I had with keeping my leg down in place thereby losing my balance forward. I wrote, "It all seems so simple when I think about it. Just keep your heels down, then your balance will stay back and you'll be able to follow the horse. HA!" This is followed by a sentence completely scribbled out and then in parenthesis "I decided not to be sarcastic."
Not every lesson had a negative reaction. After one lesson with Floyd I began my journal entry with "FINALLY! I broke through the crust surrounding Floyd's brain and actually got some quality work out of him. It was unbelievable, the drastic change in him from the beginning of the lesson to the end." Of course, the very next line is "The lesson began horribly." It was at that point, I was starting to get to know the curmudgeon a little better and despite the difficulty in riding him was becoming fond of him and began to develop pet names for him and included those in the journals. The entries following list him as The Gray Horse, Weasel Face, Ford, Pin Head, Rocket Butt and Raisin Brain (not because his brain was small but because he loved raisins).
I also was able to see a little bit of humor in my struggles. One thing Floyd was good at was being a longeing horse for mounted exercises. Usually. An entry for a longe lesson goes like this: "The problem was at the trot, Floyd couldn't decide if he was going to do Western Pleasure or harness racing... It's a little hard to do exercises where you take your legs off or hands go up or out when your horse keeps leaping out from under you.... Usually, when Floyd is walking or trotting he gets into a rhythm and sings a little song in his head. You've probably heard it before, it goes like this, 'Do you know the Muffin Man...' Well, today he was singing, 'Do you know the MUFFIN MAN!...' We did leg lifts, scissors, helicopter things, arm circles, pointing both hands up to the ceiling and pulling the ankle up to the hip to stretch the thigh down at the walk and trot. It's a really good thing I'm not writing this for English class because that last sentence was grammatically incorrect. In fact, it was so incorrect that if it were a walk trot rider, it would be on the wrong diagonal. But who really cares. We don't get graded on grammar in riding class. Or do we...."
It's considered, is what I found out. We also get graded on content, particularly the theory, which had been lacking in my entries. The rest of this day's lesson continues with, "I can sit better on Floyd when I have no stirrups than if I do. Are you allowed to drop your stirrups in a Dressage test? What would happen if you did? It doesn't say 'A- enter working trot sitting with stirrups'. I think that if they don't specify it we should be able to do what we want. I vote for no stirrups so you don't bounce. I guess I better stick some theory in here pretty soon so I can get an A."
"THE THEORY PART When you do leg lifts, you're really doing a half halt because you are sitting into the saddle. BUT, it can't be a real half halt because you take your legs off. You can't come down the center line and just before x, do a couple of big ole leg lifts. Your horse will halt with his hind legs at D and his forehand at G."
At one point, my room mate, Rita came home with me for the weekend. Apparently I had not done my homework before leaving because the next entry begins, "I really did plan to write my journal entry right after my lesson so that I would remember what we did. Honest, I planned on doing it. But then I went home for the weekend and I rode my pony and I never got around to it. I could tell you what I did when I rode my pony! We Galloped! A lot! That's about all we did! Rita galloped too! She rode Lady! And Ivy (a little)! It was fun! My pony is good at galloping. She doesn't want to be a dressage horse, she wants to be a Race horse."
I did learn things in my lessons. Things that I am trying to teach my students now. One of the most important lessons was about down transitions. "Part of Floyd's down transition is my fault. I find myself pulling too much on his mouth and not anchoring my seat into the saddle as I should. Floyd gets so strong on his forehand that I resort to sheer brute force to stop him. This is bad." The first part of learning how to do something right is recognizing what you are doing wrong!
Unfortunately, my struggles with jumping continued. Most of my trouble came from falling badly, again another story on its own, but also from the snide comments of riders in my lessons who felt they were much better than I was. They probably were better at riding over fences than I was, but I let their mean comments undermine my confidence which caused my riding to get worse, not better. The last jumping journal entry is no different from the others and begins, "Have I mentioned that I HATE WRITING JOURNAL ENTRIES!" Hence, my love of Dressage began to take over.
There are some other journal entries that are amusing or interesting enough to share but this post is approaching ridiculous proportions so I'll end now and write another at a later time. Unlike writing journal entries, I do not hate writing blog posts.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Good Sports
There is a story I feel like sharing because it has to do with poor sportsmanship. There have been some wonderful displays of good sportsmanship at some shows I've been to and I'll provide a couple of examples of those as well. No matter your level of expertise, the value of your horse or the rating of your competition, good sportsmanship should be part of your game plan. Good sportsmanship includes being polite to your fellow competitors as well as your trainer, your parents, your students, and certainly the judge and show staff, but also to your horse. Unfortunately, I have succumbed to pressure and nerves at horse shows and been snappy and whiney on more than one occasion but have always been very sorry and felt like a complete troll afterward. For the most part, I try (and sometimes it's not easy) to be a Golden Rule participant.
This one situation came to mind as I was writing about some of my shows with Raffles. We started participating in a series of shows mostly populated by Arabs, Morgans and Saddlebreds. In particular, I started participating in these shows to do the Road Hack class. With Raffles big trot, and Dressage horse adjustability, I *thought* we would be a shoe-in for the blue. What I didn't factor in, was Raffles' giant ego and spontaneity. If you're not familiar with Road Hack, it's basically a pleasure class judged on the horse's manners, gaits and tractability. Along with the normal walk, trot and canter, the horse also has to perform an extended trot, hand-gallop, halt and rein-back (backing up). The horse has to do this all obediently but with the equivalent of stage-presence.
In every Road Hack class we had entered something not only kept us from winning, but sometimes kept us out of the ribbons altogether. Raffles would either break from extended trot to canter, or buck during the hand gallop, or spook, or throw in a couple of lead changes because he's fancy like that. It didn't help that the class was always held late at night under the lights which not only inflated his ego but exaggerated anything he might consider spooky also. Road Hack became my albatross. We were totally capable of winning yet couldn't quite get there. We watched a lot of familiar horses take the blue time after time.
Then there was one night, when I had been having a perfectly miserable day/show/week when we put in the ride of our lives. Raffles was spot on. He was flawless. He moved with power but grace. He responded to my slightest aids. He was consistent, stunning and perfect. Despite all of this, while waiting for the placings to be announced, I was still having not just butterflies but pterodactyls in my stomach. You never know, at these type of shows, whether the judge likes your horse (despite a stellar performance) or whether any of the other competitors performed even better than your horse, or whether the judge even noticed you.
When the announcer called Raffles name as first, I just about cried. We had finally won the class after years of trying. There was never time when I needed that win to lift my spirits more. I was relieved and bursting with pride. I knew that we had earned the win and was on cloud nine leaving the ring.
There was an ice cream social for all the competitors after the Road Hack class which was the last one of the evening. After tucking my horse in with lots of extra carrots, I joined the crowd and heard many congratulatory remarks from Raffles' fans as I made my way to a seat. I sat next to one of the more well-known trainers and she, as many others did, congratulated me on my win but then, in the same breathe said, "You wouldn't have won if my horse had been in there."
My little euphoria balloon deflated and puddled around my feet. With that one remark, she belittled everything I had worked towards for years. What's worse, is that I let her remark take away my joy. It may have been true, or maybe not. Her horse was also a very talented animal, but like Raffles, also had a habit of showing a little too much exuberance in Road Hack. So in the future, fellow equestrians, please remember to pay a compliment and then zip it.
Now, I'll leave that behind me and share some stories of exemplary sportsmanship. My favorite comes from a little fun show for some pony-campers, all about 5-7 years old. They played relay games and Mother May I and were awarded their ribbons. After the classes the kids would all mill around and trade ribbons so that they each got their favorite color.
At another show, one of the horses I was bringing for students to ride, injured herself in the trailer. 2 people at the show offered to let those kids use their horses instead. The kids rode the borrowed horses, that they had never ridden before, and did not complain. They didn't win anything, but they were thrilled with the opportunity to ride some new horses.
At several shows, I have shown up without a girth or Dressage whip or boots and there has always been someone willing to loan me the needed items.
For every curmudgeon or naysayer out there, there are three other people that restore my faith in the equestrian community.
This one situation came to mind as I was writing about some of my shows with Raffles. We started participating in a series of shows mostly populated by Arabs, Morgans and Saddlebreds. In particular, I started participating in these shows to do the Road Hack class. With Raffles big trot, and Dressage horse adjustability, I *thought* we would be a shoe-in for the blue. What I didn't factor in, was Raffles' giant ego and spontaneity. If you're not familiar with Road Hack, it's basically a pleasure class judged on the horse's manners, gaits and tractability. Along with the normal walk, trot and canter, the horse also has to perform an extended trot, hand-gallop, halt and rein-back (backing up). The horse has to do this all obediently but with the equivalent of stage-presence.
In every Road Hack class we had entered something not only kept us from winning, but sometimes kept us out of the ribbons altogether. Raffles would either break from extended trot to canter, or buck during the hand gallop, or spook, or throw in a couple of lead changes because he's fancy like that. It didn't help that the class was always held late at night under the lights which not only inflated his ego but exaggerated anything he might consider spooky also. Road Hack became my albatross. We were totally capable of winning yet couldn't quite get there. We watched a lot of familiar horses take the blue time after time.
Then there was one night, when I had been having a perfectly miserable day/show/week when we put in the ride of our lives. Raffles was spot on. He was flawless. He moved with power but grace. He responded to my slightest aids. He was consistent, stunning and perfect. Despite all of this, while waiting for the placings to be announced, I was still having not just butterflies but pterodactyls in my stomach. You never know, at these type of shows, whether the judge likes your horse (despite a stellar performance) or whether any of the other competitors performed even better than your horse, or whether the judge even noticed you.
When the announcer called Raffles name as first, I just about cried. We had finally won the class after years of trying. There was never time when I needed that win to lift my spirits more. I was relieved and bursting with pride. I knew that we had earned the win and was on cloud nine leaving the ring.
There was an ice cream social for all the competitors after the Road Hack class which was the last one of the evening. After tucking my horse in with lots of extra carrots, I joined the crowd and heard many congratulatory remarks from Raffles' fans as I made my way to a seat. I sat next to one of the more well-known trainers and she, as many others did, congratulated me on my win but then, in the same breathe said, "You wouldn't have won if my horse had been in there."
My little euphoria balloon deflated and puddled around my feet. With that one remark, she belittled everything I had worked towards for years. What's worse, is that I let her remark take away my joy. It may have been true, or maybe not. Her horse was also a very talented animal, but like Raffles, also had a habit of showing a little too much exuberance in Road Hack. So in the future, fellow equestrians, please remember to pay a compliment and then zip it.
Now, I'll leave that behind me and share some stories of exemplary sportsmanship. My favorite comes from a little fun show for some pony-campers, all about 5-7 years old. They played relay games and Mother May I and were awarded their ribbons. After the classes the kids would all mill around and trade ribbons so that they each got their favorite color.
At another show, one of the horses I was bringing for students to ride, injured herself in the trailer. 2 people at the show offered to let those kids use their horses instead. The kids rode the borrowed horses, that they had never ridden before, and did not complain. They didn't win anything, but they were thrilled with the opportunity to ride some new horses.
At several shows, I have shown up without a girth or Dressage whip or boots and there has always been someone willing to loan me the needed items.
For every curmudgeon or naysayer out there, there are three other people that restore my faith in the equestrian community.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Drill Bit
Lately I've seen some pretty amazing drill team exhibitions on youtube which gets me excited about working with the drill team riders here. Not that we'll be jumping through hoops of fire like the London Metropolitan Mounted Policemen (or will we...?) but there are other ways of getting the crowd's attention, and keeping it.
Drill team has always been something I loved coaching, but I think I've only ever ridden in two of them. One was during college when some classmates and I were chosen to ride a Quadrille for an open house. We rode to "Bolero" and my mount was a gorgeous TB gelding named Star Trek. He was a stunningly good looking horse with an unfortunate name and severe lack of coordination. The cantering parts of the drill were always a bit hair-raising for me.
Despite all raised hairs, I enjoyed it tremendously and from then on, wherever possible, I worked drill rides into lessons. First were the little Summer Camp riders who managed to learn a drill within just a few days. Then there were Quadrille teams that rode a pre-determined test, and then larger drills with 6 or 8 riders and smaller drills with only two. I rode in the two horse drill (technically a pas-de-deux) with one of my students. I rode Raffles and she rode Dancer. Raffles is a 16.2 hh beefcake Swedish Warmblood. Dancer is a 12 hh Welsh Pony. Taking their sizes and personalities into consideration, we performed our ride to two songs. One was Fred Astaire's "Dancing Cheek to Cheek" for which we rode very sweet patterns where we would ride apart, come together, part again and finally sway through a series of intricate circles. Then the music switched over to "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better". Cue the hilarity. With spunky little Dancer upstaging him at every moment, Raffles and I wove a pattern of diagonals, leg yields, and changes of direction. A few years later, I did a reprisal of the ride with a different student (student #1 had outgrown the pony) and with a different horse. Raffles was stricken with a hoof abscess so at the last second, Vanessa had to pinch hit. She was also a big horse so the visual was similar, but without Raffles' machismo the effect wasn't quite the same. Also, I made a few mistakes. And Dancer wouldn't go through the puddles in the ring. Overall, it was not a polished performance. Let's just leave it at that.
Choosing the music is a big part of having a crowd-pleasing drill ride. Hoops of fire don't hurt either, but as I said earlier, we're not doing that (or are we...?). The music has to have the same tempo and rhythm of the gaits used, and it has to be recognizable and lively. In the most drills, we rode the drill to fit the music. The pre-determined Quadrilles were tricking because we couldn't alter the ride to fit the music so we had to find music to fit the ride. Fancy-schmancy computer programs are available to edit music to the length of the ride, and to blend different songs together to fit the different gaits, but my computer skills are neither schmancy nor fancy so I always had to adapt the ride to the music. Which meant that all the riders had to put up with last minute choreography changes.
"Hey guys, that last part that took you two weeks to learn.... that's got to be longer so we're going to add two more circles. Right in the middle. In the other direction. At the canter. Ready?"
Without fail, every drill rider learned their pattern, with all last minute changes, better than I did. Even though I was the one that made it up and coached it every week.
Some of the choices we've made for music were; the theme from Top Gun, music from the movie Jurassic Park, a 1980's techno remix of Puttin' On the Ritz, Hawaiian music from the movie Lilo & Stitch, ragtime music from the movie, The Sting, and one piece of music by a veritable deity of British rock & roll - Gary Glitter. We had some classic drill moves like the Wheel, Obliques, and Thread the Needle, but also some I dreamed up and labeled as Crashing Diagonals, the Shuffle, and the Roll-back Reverse. I wish I had video of each of the rides my students have done over the years. There are a few on youtube, but most were done before youtube was mainstream. I'm sure there is a rider or two that is secretly not too sad about that.
Without fail, the day of the actual performance, one of the horses would get overly excited by the pomp and circumstance of the occasion, and flip his lid. Usually, that horse is the same one that was too slow to keep up with the other horses during the 3 months of practice thereby catching his hapless rider completely off guard. My efforts at keeping my mouth shut, as the drill was performed, gave way with shouts of "Stay in line! Stay in line! Sit back! Hang on! Stay in Line!"
Every ride has been memorable for me and at every performance, I've had more jitters than my riders. Every ride had me bursting with pride (and relief) at the end, and applauding like a fool. I look forward to many more opportunities to applaud like a prideful, relieved fool.
Drill team has always been something I loved coaching, but I think I've only ever ridden in two of them. One was during college when some classmates and I were chosen to ride a Quadrille for an open house. We rode to "Bolero" and my mount was a gorgeous TB gelding named Star Trek. He was a stunningly good looking horse with an unfortunate name and severe lack of coordination. The cantering parts of the drill were always a bit hair-raising for me.
Despite all raised hairs, I enjoyed it tremendously and from then on, wherever possible, I worked drill rides into lessons. First were the little Summer Camp riders who managed to learn a drill within just a few days. Then there were Quadrille teams that rode a pre-determined test, and then larger drills with 6 or 8 riders and smaller drills with only two. I rode in the two horse drill (technically a pas-de-deux) with one of my students. I rode Raffles and she rode Dancer. Raffles is a 16.2 hh beefcake Swedish Warmblood. Dancer is a 12 hh Welsh Pony. Taking their sizes and personalities into consideration, we performed our ride to two songs. One was Fred Astaire's "Dancing Cheek to Cheek" for which we rode very sweet patterns where we would ride apart, come together, part again and finally sway through a series of intricate circles. Then the music switched over to "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better". Cue the hilarity. With spunky little Dancer upstaging him at every moment, Raffles and I wove a pattern of diagonals, leg yields, and changes of direction. A few years later, I did a reprisal of the ride with a different student (student #1 had outgrown the pony) and with a different horse. Raffles was stricken with a hoof abscess so at the last second, Vanessa had to pinch hit. She was also a big horse so the visual was similar, but without Raffles' machismo the effect wasn't quite the same. Also, I made a few mistakes. And Dancer wouldn't go through the puddles in the ring. Overall, it was not a polished performance. Let's just leave it at that.
Choosing the music is a big part of having a crowd-pleasing drill ride. Hoops of fire don't hurt either, but as I said earlier, we're not doing that (or are we...?). The music has to have the same tempo and rhythm of the gaits used, and it has to be recognizable and lively. In the most drills, we rode the drill to fit the music. The pre-determined Quadrilles were tricking because we couldn't alter the ride to fit the music so we had to find music to fit the ride. Fancy-schmancy computer programs are available to edit music to the length of the ride, and to blend different songs together to fit the different gaits, but my computer skills are neither schmancy nor fancy so I always had to adapt the ride to the music. Which meant that all the riders had to put up with last minute choreography changes.
"Hey guys, that last part that took you two weeks to learn.... that's got to be longer so we're going to add two more circles. Right in the middle. In the other direction. At the canter. Ready?"
Without fail, every drill rider learned their pattern, with all last minute changes, better than I did. Even though I was the one that made it up and coached it every week.
Some of the choices we've made for music were; the theme from Top Gun, music from the movie Jurassic Park, a 1980's techno remix of Puttin' On the Ritz, Hawaiian music from the movie Lilo & Stitch, ragtime music from the movie, The Sting, and one piece of music by a veritable deity of British rock & roll - Gary Glitter. We had some classic drill moves like the Wheel, Obliques, and Thread the Needle, but also some I dreamed up and labeled as Crashing Diagonals, the Shuffle, and the Roll-back Reverse. I wish I had video of each of the rides my students have done over the years. There are a few on youtube, but most were done before youtube was mainstream. I'm sure there is a rider or two that is secretly not too sad about that.
Without fail, the day of the actual performance, one of the horses would get overly excited by the pomp and circumstance of the occasion, and flip his lid. Usually, that horse is the same one that was too slow to keep up with the other horses during the 3 months of practice thereby catching his hapless rider completely off guard. My efforts at keeping my mouth shut, as the drill was performed, gave way with shouts of "Stay in line! Stay in line! Sit back! Hang on! Stay in Line!"
Every ride has been memorable for me and at every performance, I've had more jitters than my riders. Every ride had me bursting with pride (and relief) at the end, and applauding like a fool. I look forward to many more opportunities to applaud like a prideful, relieved fool.
Monday, January 17, 2011
It's been a while since I wrote anything here. The holidays kept me busy and I also started a new job. It's not exactly a new job, because it's still teaching and training horses and riders, but new in the capacity that I will get paid for it. At my stable, every penny I earn goes right back into the stable in the form of hay, grain, shavings and the like. At this job, there is no overhead so it's actually profit. The money still goes back into my farm, but at least it came from somewhere else.
The new job is slightly different, in that I will be specifically teaching students about training horses. Whether we like it or not, every time we are in the presence of a horse, we are training it. Horses constantly learn from people. They learn good stuff and they learn bad stuff but they are always learning. A horse is never "trained". You can say he's been trained or had training, that is all true, but a horse is never done being trained. Horses never lose training either. Training can get buried, but it's still there. Horses don't forget but they need constant reminding of skills they've learned.
Just because a horse has learned a certain behavior from one person does not mean he will exhibit the same with a different person. For example, one of the school ponies, Dancer, is a perfectly pleasant, polite pony when I lead her around the farm. As soon as she gets a small child at the end of her rope, she turns into Thomas the Tank Engine and drags the unfortunate victim from one food source to the next. It doesn't even matter whether or not it's a standard pony food source either. Dancer has been known to devour the duck food if the bowl is within child-dragging distance.
With consistent one on one training, a horse may maintain that level of training for a short time when presented with a new handler/rider. If the new person doesn't keep up the level of leadership, the horse will start to learn other behaviors. A horse will always rise or sink to the level of it's trainer.
There is no such thing as an un-trainable horse. A horse always has the capacity to learn. There are horses who are not physically or mentally capable of learning what it is the trainer is trying to teach. A frantic, nervous horse is not going to learn much of anything in that state so he first needs to be calm. A 10 hh pony is not going to learn to jump a 5' oxer. Even if he is calm. Not all people are cut out to help a horse learn how to be a good citizen or accomplished athlete. Some horses take more time, some take more patience, but they all learn. They learn even when we are not actively teaching. Horses don't take time-outs from learning. Training doesn't just happen in the saddle. Training happens from the second that horse notices you're there. In the paddock, on the crossties, being groomed, being tacked up... it's all training, all the time. If a person expects the horse to consistently behave a certain way, than it is the person's responsibility to allow that to happen. Carol Lavell, an Olympic medalist, once told me in a lesson, that the training process is like a teacher with a classroom full of children. That teacher can not let those children do as they please for two days, letting them climb the bookshelves, throw pencils, scream and run, punch each other, dance on the desks and so on, and then on the third day tell them they must now sit quietly at their desks and pay attention to their long division. There is no routine, no respect and no training going on when you let the horse do as he pleases for 30 minutes and then for the next 30 expect him to obey your every whim. That doesn't fly with horses. Or children.
As a trainer, you can't even allow an unwanted behavior to carry on for several minutes before you decide to do something about it. If you let a horse nip at you 3 times before telling him to quit, all he's learned is that he can bite you 3 times, but not 4. He does not associate the correction with the first bite because it didn't come immediately following the first bite. Even worse, is rewarding a horse for a behavior that is unacceptable. When a horse is pawing on the crossties and his handler settles him down by petting him and giving him a cookie, he's just learned that if he paws, he'll get attention and a cookie. If he's pawing and I go to him and immediately ask him to back up and then come forward and then back up and then come forward... for a little while, he'll associate the pawing with having to work a little harder and will choose to stand still instead. Then he can have a cookie.
If I could get a cookie for standing still, I don't think I'd ever move.
The new job is slightly different, in that I will be specifically teaching students about training horses. Whether we like it or not, every time we are in the presence of a horse, we are training it. Horses constantly learn from people. They learn good stuff and they learn bad stuff but they are always learning. A horse is never "trained". You can say he's been trained or had training, that is all true, but a horse is never done being trained. Horses never lose training either. Training can get buried, but it's still there. Horses don't forget but they need constant reminding of skills they've learned.
Just because a horse has learned a certain behavior from one person does not mean he will exhibit the same with a different person. For example, one of the school ponies, Dancer, is a perfectly pleasant, polite pony when I lead her around the farm. As soon as she gets a small child at the end of her rope, she turns into Thomas the Tank Engine and drags the unfortunate victim from one food source to the next. It doesn't even matter whether or not it's a standard pony food source either. Dancer has been known to devour the duck food if the bowl is within child-dragging distance.
With consistent one on one training, a horse may maintain that level of training for a short time when presented with a new handler/rider. If the new person doesn't keep up the level of leadership, the horse will start to learn other behaviors. A horse will always rise or sink to the level of it's trainer.
There is no such thing as an un-trainable horse. A horse always has the capacity to learn. There are horses who are not physically or mentally capable of learning what it is the trainer is trying to teach. A frantic, nervous horse is not going to learn much of anything in that state so he first needs to be calm. A 10 hh pony is not going to learn to jump a 5' oxer. Even if he is calm. Not all people are cut out to help a horse learn how to be a good citizen or accomplished athlete. Some horses take more time, some take more patience, but they all learn. They learn even when we are not actively teaching. Horses don't take time-outs from learning. Training doesn't just happen in the saddle. Training happens from the second that horse notices you're there. In the paddock, on the crossties, being groomed, being tacked up... it's all training, all the time. If a person expects the horse to consistently behave a certain way, than it is the person's responsibility to allow that to happen. Carol Lavell, an Olympic medalist, once told me in a lesson, that the training process is like a teacher with a classroom full of children. That teacher can not let those children do as they please for two days, letting them climb the bookshelves, throw pencils, scream and run, punch each other, dance on the desks and so on, and then on the third day tell them they must now sit quietly at their desks and pay attention to their long division. There is no routine, no respect and no training going on when you let the horse do as he pleases for 30 minutes and then for the next 30 expect him to obey your every whim. That doesn't fly with horses. Or children.
As a trainer, you can't even allow an unwanted behavior to carry on for several minutes before you decide to do something about it. If you let a horse nip at you 3 times before telling him to quit, all he's learned is that he can bite you 3 times, but not 4. He does not associate the correction with the first bite because it didn't come immediately following the first bite. Even worse, is rewarding a horse for a behavior that is unacceptable. When a horse is pawing on the crossties and his handler settles him down by petting him and giving him a cookie, he's just learned that if he paws, he'll get attention and a cookie. If he's pawing and I go to him and immediately ask him to back up and then come forward and then back up and then come forward... for a little while, he'll associate the pawing with having to work a little harder and will choose to stand still instead. Then he can have a cookie.
If I could get a cookie for standing still, I don't think I'd ever move.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Meaning in Christmas
At this time of year, when I am struggling to get gifts for everyone I want to get a gift for and working with a shoestring (a ratty, worn out, threatening to break shoestring) budget, I always think of the greatest Christmas gift I have ever gotten that had almost no monetary value at all, yet was the most precious.
There was a family that became a part of my life through horse camp. In previous years, our city offered scholarships to children in public school grades 3-6 to go to a Summer camp of their choice. It was only through this scholarship that most of the children I had in camp were able to attend. That certainly applied to this particular family. It was a family of 6; 4 children, stay at home Mom and a Dad who was working and taking college classes so that he would be able to get a better job. The oldest girl came to camp one year, then again the next year along with her younger sister. They were lively, happy, beautiful girls that loved every minute of their camp days. With no extra money for lessons, that was the extent of their riding experience except for those times that they would come out and help with chores in exchange for extra riding. Regardless of horses, their Mom and I talked often, sharing Mom stories with all of the happiness, stress, pride and humor that goes along with having children.
During those few years, I was trying to adapt to being a single Mom as well as keep the business going and the work and worry wore me down often. The absolute joy that this family had in just being around the horses reminded me of why I was doing what I was doing; that horses were part of my soul and I believe in all the magic they represent and healing they impart. I was meant to work with them and for them. I wasn't always doing things right but slowly and surely learning from my mistakes and trying to improve perpetually. Most of all, this family gave me the inspiration to keep going.
My son was maybe 4 years old at the time of this particular Christmas. At 4, he was just becoming aware of the fun and surprise of Christmas. In order to share that enchantment with him, I got up extra early to feed horses and get them turned out before he woke up. Mission accomplished, I was able to make breakfast and watch Tristan open his presents. At 7 am, when I normally would have been heading out to the barn to feed horses, there was a knock on my door.
At the door was Mom and all 4 kids. They came bearing some handmade, personalized gifts but more astonishingly, had come to help with the barn work. They had left all of their gifts at home, unopened, to come out and help me for that morning. They had foregone their own Christmas morning so that I would have help. These 4 small children, ages 9-3, were here, happily and eagerly ready to do whatever I needed them to do. Their generosity touched me in a way that I can't describe.
Having told them that I had already gotten chores done earlier so that I could spend the morning with my son, they were almost disappointed that there wasn't any work to do. I invited them in to share our cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate and the children played with Tristan and his gifts while their Mom and I talked a little. Not once did any of the 4 children whine about wanting to go home to their own stuff. They never complained, never sulked, never said "Can we go now?". They were just as cheerful and exuberant as always.
After about an hour they went home to their own Christmas. Hours after that I was still reeling from the shock of their completely unselfish act and the good will that they shared. That gift was the most valuable one I could have ever received, especially during that year of trial and strife. They had no money for fancy gifts but what they gave me that day was absolutely priceless.
That family moved away from the area years ago and I have lost touch with them. Every Christmas since then, I think of them and the sacrifice they made to try and make my life a little easier. Melanie, Tinsley, Missy, JJ and Julianna, thank you and I will never forget your gift.
There was a family that became a part of my life through horse camp. In previous years, our city offered scholarships to children in public school grades 3-6 to go to a Summer camp of their choice. It was only through this scholarship that most of the children I had in camp were able to attend. That certainly applied to this particular family. It was a family of 6; 4 children, stay at home Mom and a Dad who was working and taking college classes so that he would be able to get a better job. The oldest girl came to camp one year, then again the next year along with her younger sister. They were lively, happy, beautiful girls that loved every minute of their camp days. With no extra money for lessons, that was the extent of their riding experience except for those times that they would come out and help with chores in exchange for extra riding. Regardless of horses, their Mom and I talked often, sharing Mom stories with all of the happiness, stress, pride and humor that goes along with having children.
During those few years, I was trying to adapt to being a single Mom as well as keep the business going and the work and worry wore me down often. The absolute joy that this family had in just being around the horses reminded me of why I was doing what I was doing; that horses were part of my soul and I believe in all the magic they represent and healing they impart. I was meant to work with them and for them. I wasn't always doing things right but slowly and surely learning from my mistakes and trying to improve perpetually. Most of all, this family gave me the inspiration to keep going.
My son was maybe 4 years old at the time of this particular Christmas. At 4, he was just becoming aware of the fun and surprise of Christmas. In order to share that enchantment with him, I got up extra early to feed horses and get them turned out before he woke up. Mission accomplished, I was able to make breakfast and watch Tristan open his presents. At 7 am, when I normally would have been heading out to the barn to feed horses, there was a knock on my door.
At the door was Mom and all 4 kids. They came bearing some handmade, personalized gifts but more astonishingly, had come to help with the barn work. They had left all of their gifts at home, unopened, to come out and help me for that morning. They had foregone their own Christmas morning so that I would have help. These 4 small children, ages 9-3, were here, happily and eagerly ready to do whatever I needed them to do. Their generosity touched me in a way that I can't describe.
Having told them that I had already gotten chores done earlier so that I could spend the morning with my son, they were almost disappointed that there wasn't any work to do. I invited them in to share our cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate and the children played with Tristan and his gifts while their Mom and I talked a little. Not once did any of the 4 children whine about wanting to go home to their own stuff. They never complained, never sulked, never said "Can we go now?". They were just as cheerful and exuberant as always.
After about an hour they went home to their own Christmas. Hours after that I was still reeling from the shock of their completely unselfish act and the good will that they shared. That gift was the most valuable one I could have ever received, especially during that year of trial and strife. They had no money for fancy gifts but what they gave me that day was absolutely priceless.
That family moved away from the area years ago and I have lost touch with them. Every Christmas since then, I think of them and the sacrifice they made to try and make my life a little easier. Melanie, Tinsley, Missy, JJ and Julianna, thank you and I will never forget your gift.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
You Must Be Mistaken
As a person who doesn't like to re-do anything and doesn't like to make mistakes, learning to accept an occasional "Ok, that didn't work..." was a difficult task. Having to let go of the fear of failure, the fear of messing up my horse, the fear of looking like a fool and a certain amount of perfectionism was like having to cut off my arm.
I still harbor those thought,s but now they skitter around the edges of my consciousness rather than clobbering their way to the forefront. It takes a little bit of wanting to do things right in order to succeed, but we have to able to accept mistakes and be willing to experiment. The only rule is that above all else, we try not to get hurt and try not to hurt our horses.
We could read every book ever written, take thousands of hours of lessons, watch zillions of videos and we will still come across that horse that makes us go "Huh, what is that all about?". Every horse is different and has it's own personality and quirks. There is no set-in-stone formula that is going to work for every horse. There isn't even one that will work for every Thoroughbred, or Quarter Horse or Arabian or anything else. There is no one way to work with a mare or a stallion or a gelding. Every yearling is different. Every 3 year old is different. And so on. Even when working with the same horse day after day, there are days when that horse will give you a different challenge. Our job is to be willing to experiment and to accept defeat.
We don't have to win every battle. There's nothing wrong with changing the subject or re-directing an exercise, as long as it will end up being positive and it's on your terms. If something isn't going right, there is no need to drill it until it does go right. What usually happens is both horse and rider end up exhausted and cranky.
If you are trying desperately to get a leg yield to the left and it's just not happening, examine why, first. Are you sitting too far right? Are you restricting with too much rein? Is your horse sore? Has he lost interest in responding to your aids because he just did 48 leg yields to the left and that ought to be quite enough? Rather than battle on, there is nothing wrong with taking a time out and walking on long reins for a minute. Or you could go and do something that you know both of you can do well. Do a canter circle. Do a turn on the forehand. It doesn't matter what, as long as it has a positive outcome. Most of the time, taking a break, or doing something different is enough to break up the tension and redevelop harmony so that the previously frustrating exercise becomes more productive.
When working on something new, the only way to figure it out is going to be to try it. You can not learn to do half-pass by reading a book. It may help, but you've got to be up there, applying aids and gauging your horse's reaction to know if you've been successful. Doing it wrong, or sloppy is not necessarily a bad thing, as long as you take note of what needs to improve and work on that the next time. It's akin to a child learning to write. There has to be practice. There has to be a bit of going outside the lines and being crooked. Certainly no one expects a small child to write her name perfectly the first time. No one expects you or your horse to do every transition perfectly the first time or every time. Mistakes happen.
Mistakes are okay, they are part of the learning process. I tell my students that a mistake is not a mistake unless you repeat it. Otherwise it's just practice. If you are supposed to end your trot lengthening at K, and you continuously let your horse drift left and miss the letter completely, then you are making a mistake and doing yourself and your horse a disservice. If you miss it once and notice that you were slack with your outside rein, then you can ride it again and make the correction. Of course, then you will finish your diagonal with counter flexion because you had too much outside rein. But it wasn't a mistake! Because it was a NEW problem. There was an effort made. Congratulations. Now, go try again.
In my dance lessons, I have put pressure on myself worrying about making a mistake during an upcoming performance. My teacher has told me. "You are going to make mistakes. Just accept it and go on. Everyone makes mistakes." Good advice, even if it is from someone who doesn't know a hoof pick from a Hanoverian.
The amazing thing about horses is that they not only allow you to make mistakes, but they forgive you for them too. Unless, they get hurt. Even then, there are horses who will put up with the pain and discomfort and continue to try. They shouldn't have to, but most of them will.
So make a mistake. Recognize it, give your horse a pat and then correct it. Mistakes are all part of the learning process. Those that don't learn from their mistakes are the only ones making them. The rest of us are just practicing.
I still harbor those thought,s but now they skitter around the edges of my consciousness rather than clobbering their way to the forefront. It takes a little bit of wanting to do things right in order to succeed, but we have to able to accept mistakes and be willing to experiment. The only rule is that above all else, we try not to get hurt and try not to hurt our horses.
We could read every book ever written, take thousands of hours of lessons, watch zillions of videos and we will still come across that horse that makes us go "Huh, what is that all about?". Every horse is different and has it's own personality and quirks. There is no set-in-stone formula that is going to work for every horse. There isn't even one that will work for every Thoroughbred, or Quarter Horse or Arabian or anything else. There is no one way to work with a mare or a stallion or a gelding. Every yearling is different. Every 3 year old is different. And so on. Even when working with the same horse day after day, there are days when that horse will give you a different challenge. Our job is to be willing to experiment and to accept defeat.
We don't have to win every battle. There's nothing wrong with changing the subject or re-directing an exercise, as long as it will end up being positive and it's on your terms. If something isn't going right, there is no need to drill it until it does go right. What usually happens is both horse and rider end up exhausted and cranky.
If you are trying desperately to get a leg yield to the left and it's just not happening, examine why, first. Are you sitting too far right? Are you restricting with too much rein? Is your horse sore? Has he lost interest in responding to your aids because he just did 48 leg yields to the left and that ought to be quite enough? Rather than battle on, there is nothing wrong with taking a time out and walking on long reins for a minute. Or you could go and do something that you know both of you can do well. Do a canter circle. Do a turn on the forehand. It doesn't matter what, as long as it has a positive outcome. Most of the time, taking a break, or doing something different is enough to break up the tension and redevelop harmony so that the previously frustrating exercise becomes more productive.
When working on something new, the only way to figure it out is going to be to try it. You can not learn to do half-pass by reading a book. It may help, but you've got to be up there, applying aids and gauging your horse's reaction to know if you've been successful. Doing it wrong, or sloppy is not necessarily a bad thing, as long as you take note of what needs to improve and work on that the next time. It's akin to a child learning to write. There has to be practice. There has to be a bit of going outside the lines and being crooked. Certainly no one expects a small child to write her name perfectly the first time. No one expects you or your horse to do every transition perfectly the first time or every time. Mistakes happen.
Mistakes are okay, they are part of the learning process. I tell my students that a mistake is not a mistake unless you repeat it. Otherwise it's just practice. If you are supposed to end your trot lengthening at K, and you continuously let your horse drift left and miss the letter completely, then you are making a mistake and doing yourself and your horse a disservice. If you miss it once and notice that you were slack with your outside rein, then you can ride it again and make the correction. Of course, then you will finish your diagonal with counter flexion because you had too much outside rein. But it wasn't a mistake! Because it was a NEW problem. There was an effort made. Congratulations. Now, go try again.
In my dance lessons, I have put pressure on myself worrying about making a mistake during an upcoming performance. My teacher has told me. "You are going to make mistakes. Just accept it and go on. Everyone makes mistakes." Good advice, even if it is from someone who doesn't know a hoof pick from a Hanoverian.
The amazing thing about horses is that they not only allow you to make mistakes, but they forgive you for them too. Unless, they get hurt. Even then, there are horses who will put up with the pain and discomfort and continue to try. They shouldn't have to, but most of them will.
So make a mistake. Recognize it, give your horse a pat and then correct it. Mistakes are all part of the learning process. Those that don't learn from their mistakes are the only ones making them. The rest of us are just practicing.
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