During one of the Summer Camp "inside lessons" I asked the group of medium-size girls "What do horses normally do all day?" The lesson was on how to tell if your horse is sick. Generally, if your horse is not doing any one of the normal things, it could be ill.
"Breathe!" was the first response.
"That's true," I replied, "but usually if your horse isn't breathing, it's not because he's sick. It's because he's dead. But good thinking!"
The answers began to come forth as the girls pictured their camp horses' daily routines.
"Eat!"
"Drink!"
"Walk around!"
"Blink!"
"Stand up!"
"Poop!" Actually, what was said was "Use the restroom!", which isn't semantically correct. So the next camper chimed in with the updated version. Then the last one, catching on to the path we were headed on called out, "Pee!"
Yes, little grasshoppers, these are all correct.
An ill horse, or injured horse, is most likely going to refrain from normal, every day, horsey activities. It does help to know your horse well. At my barn, Gigi does not like to eat her breakfast grain. Raffles doesn't want to eat hay. Imy never drinks water in his stall. Rocket drools all over everything. Abbie uses her paddock like a home gym. Henry takes several naps every day. What is normal for these horses, may not be normal for any other horse.
Just recently, one of the horses went from drinking one tub of water over the course of 3 days, to drinking 4-5 tub-fulls in one day. After hundreds of dollars in blood and urine tests and multiple vet visits, still no one knows why. She is completely, perfectly healthy and happy otherwise. Weeks later, she is still drinking about 5 times the amount of water she usually drinks. Her electrolytes, organ functions, proteins and enzymes are all textbook. She isn't sweating more than normal, she isn't eating her salt block, her food and work load have not changed, her turnout is the same. Absolutely nothing has been found amiss, other than the water consumption. The answer may be revealed weeks from now, or she may return to normal water consumption as spontaneously as she deviated.
In case you are wondering, yes, I did check to see if her tub was leaking.
The point is, it helps to know your own particular horse's habits to know if anything has changed. The point also is, sometimes horses do weird things for no discernible reason.
If something seems askew, before calling the vet, take a moment to record current vital signs. The vet is going to ask for them and if you haven't checked, you will feel very silly.
Vital signs include, body temperature, pulse, respiratory rate, capillary refill time and in the case of possible colic, gut sounds. It is handy to have a chart with the normal values printed on it and either displayed in a prominent place or kept with the medical kit because in a time of emergency not everyone can be clear headed enough to recall all the correct numbers.
For some of us, recalling numbers is difficult even at the best of times.
In order to determine vital signs you need a thermometer (and a little Vaseline or lube), a watch, and a stethoscope. If available, a pen and paper to record numbers, and a second person to hold a horse or tell time is nice too.
Keeping a horse still long enough to determine respiratory rate and pulse can be a challenge. It's easiest to time them for 15 seconds then multiply by 4 to get a per minute number. It may be helpful to have a calculator on hand to do this.
For some of us, doing math is difficult even at the best of times.
Knowing your horse, knowing what is normal for normal horses, and knowing the vet's telephone number are resources you will need to properly care for a horse. Even if something is normal for your horse, it could still indicate a problem. Just because a horse always coughs when he eats, or usually has runny manure does not mean it's okay. There could be a reason for it that can be remedied.
If something does seem wrong, observe, record, and call the vet.
Oh yeah - and breathe.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Monday, June 9, 2014
Caveat Emptor
*Due to a lovely opportunity to have my writing published in the local newspaper, I have badly neglected my little blog. However, like a fickle girlfriend, now that the more glamorous option seems to have run its course I have returned to "Ole Reliable". Please continue to follow, I will continue to write (if a little sporadically) and feel free to share. Thank you for your loyalty, it was greater than mine.*
Although my livelihood depends on horses; teaching people to ride them, training them and boarding them, when people me if they should buy a horse I nearly always answer, “No.”. Horse ownership is not for the faint of heart, small of bank account or possessor of little knowledge.
Should someone take riding lessons? Definitely. Should an experienced rider consider leasing a horse? Probably. It’s my personal opinion that buying a horse should be akin to obtaining a driver's license. There should be classes, a required number of hours of practice and a test with the possible addition of a background check and mental capacity testing.
These restrictions would reduce the number of horses resold when they didn’t work out or the owner lost interest. There are adoption facilities filled to the rafters with horses that people could no longer afford and horses that were mistreated or neglected by ignorant owners. I suspect that most of those horses would not be there if the previous owners had done more research before buying a horse.
The relationship you can develop with a horse of your own is like no other. The horse is completely dependant on you for survival but at the same time, can take you out if it feels you are not fulfilling that obligation. Meaning, a horse needs a leader that it trusts and respects and if it doesn’t have that trust and respect it will set about saving its own skin. That’s when people get hurt and horses are labeled “bad”.
Not only can a horse’s compliance deteriorate but it’s health will rapidly decline due to mishandling. The declaration “healthy as a horse” is a precarious one at best. Horses have delicate digestive systems and a propensity for finding something to poke in their eyes, twist a leg on or get caught in. There is a horse I know who has a big ugly scar on one leg from getting tangled in a boat trailer. First of all, horses should not have access to boat trailers, and second, despite having many other choices of places it could be, the horse ended up with a leg caught in a boat trailer. How or why is of no consequence. It is a horse. There was an opportunity.
The worst mistake, by a landslide, is buying a young horse for a young person so they can “grow and learn together.” If ever existed a recipe for disaster, that one is top of the list. Sometimes the pairing works out - but rarely. If it does work, it’s usually due to the assistance of professionals and miracles.
Somebody in the relationship needs to know what to do, so a young horse with an experienced owner or an inexperienced owner with an aged been there, done that horse generally work out fine. Regardless of horse or rider education levels, there should be a professional trainer or instructor involved. Even riders who compete in the Olympic games have coaches. No one is immune from needing help.
My plan is not to (entirely) discourage everyone from ever owning a horse, but to forewarn and educate those who are ready to make the commitment. If you do decide to buy a horse, take a professional along during trials, take lessons, read books, watch videos, ask questions, consult veterinarians and farriers.
Horse ownership can be fulfilling and rewarding if you decide to make the commitment. Your relationship with your horse can enrich your life as you learn to be aware of your body language, stay calm in intense situations and exhibit leadership. Buck Brannaman, a world-renowned horseman and author, says that your horse is a mirror to your soul, and to what is going on in your life. Which means you may not always like what you see, but that doesn’t mean you throw away the mirror and go out and get a new one. A horse can teach you to be a better person.
Maybe my first reaction is hasty. Maybe instead of saying, “No.”, when people ask me if they should get a horse, I should say “Not yet.” I would say, take some time to educate yourself and then examine your motives. If, after some lessons and studying, your reason for owning a horse has gone beyond “Because they’re so pretty!”, then certainly you can prepare for that life-altering experience.
Friday, April 19, 2013
That's What It's All About
We need riding lessons, not because we don't know how to ride, but because we think we do. If you don't take riding lessons you at least need photographs and videos of your riding so that you can see all of the things you need to fix because while you are up there riding around, you think you're either Buck Branaman or Buck Davidson when really you're more like Buck the Ice Age Weasel, but not as cool.
I don't get to take riding lessons very often so I rely heavily on photographic evidence. Evidence that can be appalling.
What is my right leg doing there?
All this time, I thought my heels were down...
So that's what behind the vertical looks like.
I hope I found what I was looking for down there in my horse's mane.
All this time, I thought my hands were down...
It can be embarrassing but extremely valuable to see those photos. It can be more persuasive than an instructor's comments.
When I was younger and had access to regular instruction I often found myself silently arguing with whatever instructor I had, that I WAS doing whatever she/he asked me to or was NOT doing whatever he/she told me I was doing. I was quite sure that I was holding my outside rein. Or that my leg was back far enough. Or that my horse was going forward. But now, I am quite sure that I was wrong every time.
It can feel like we are doing something, or we can think we are doing something but the instructor can see what we are or are not doing. At least, a good one can. There are instructors who just shout "Good!" as if we just mastered Beethoven's' 5th on the second try when really we mangled Twinkle Twinkle. And there are instructors who yell "Wrong!" but never proceed to tell us why or how to make it better. I've had both. They were not the one's I learned from, except to learn that I did not want to be an instructor like that.
From being a riding student, I know what it is like to be told I need to do something when I;m pretty sure I have been doing it all along. Even recently, when I had a lesson with a very well -respected trainer who told me repeatedly to put my hands forward. "I am putting my hands forward" I whined to myself, "Can't he see that?" But then, when I put my hands forward more, the horse suddenly became correct. *lightbulb*
If your instructor is constantly barking at you (or even gently reminding you) to do/not do something, you probably need to do/not do it. Again, exceptions occur, such as the trainer I rode with who told me to "hit him harder" every time my poor frazzled horse bolted. Instructors are not gods. You've got to do what makes sense. If an instructor tells you to hold your reins with your teeth and put your hands up over your head to get your horse to do a collected trot, maybe it's time to move on to a new teacher.
That reminds me, not completely relevantly, of the time one of camp kids, in the blink of an eye, slung her reins around her neck and said "Look at me! I'm neck reining!" If I hadn't been so panic stricken, I would have laughed because it was a pretty good joke. A very dangerous joke, but funny after the fact. Anyway...
The point is, have a little faith in your instructor. He or she has (one would hope) more training than you, more experience than you, and can see what you are doing. If she says put your hands down and the whine comes bubbling forth from your self-assured brain that you are putting your hands down, then put them down some more. Or use more outside rein. Or ask your horse for more forwardness, or less neck bend or or more haunches in. Whatever it is, you are paying this person to tell you how to do a better job so don't whine if you're told what to do. Put a little Nike in your ride and just do it. Or don't, but go somewhere else for lessons. Instructors do not like to be argued with or whined at.
If you have a question, by all means ask. Many times I've taught lessons thinking my student clearly understood every theory I put forth when in reality I could have been speaking in tongues and my student would have nodded politely and said, yes that makes sense. Riding sometimes feels like you are deep in a game of Twister or doing the hokey-pokey but it should all come together eventually if you have faith in your instructor. Just remember that even though you feel like you are putting your right foot in, your instructor can see that instead, you are shaking it all about.
I don't get to take riding lessons very often so I rely heavily on photographic evidence. Evidence that can be appalling.
What is my right leg doing there?
All this time, I thought my heels were down...
So that's what behind the vertical looks like.
I hope I found what I was looking for down there in my horse's mane.
All this time, I thought my hands were down...
It can be embarrassing but extremely valuable to see those photos. It can be more persuasive than an instructor's comments.
When I was younger and had access to regular instruction I often found myself silently arguing with whatever instructor I had, that I WAS doing whatever she/he asked me to or was NOT doing whatever he/she told me I was doing. I was quite sure that I was holding my outside rein. Or that my leg was back far enough. Or that my horse was going forward. But now, I am quite sure that I was wrong every time.
It can feel like we are doing something, or we can think we are doing something but the instructor can see what we are or are not doing. At least, a good one can. There are instructors who just shout "Good!" as if we just mastered Beethoven's' 5th on the second try when really we mangled Twinkle Twinkle. And there are instructors who yell "Wrong!" but never proceed to tell us why or how to make it better. I've had both. They were not the one's I learned from, except to learn that I did not want to be an instructor like that.
From being a riding student, I know what it is like to be told I need to do something when I;m pretty sure I have been doing it all along. Even recently, when I had a lesson with a very well -respected trainer who told me repeatedly to put my hands forward. "I am putting my hands forward" I whined to myself, "Can't he see that?" But then, when I put my hands forward more, the horse suddenly became correct. *lightbulb*
If your instructor is constantly barking at you (or even gently reminding you) to do/not do something, you probably need to do/not do it. Again, exceptions occur, such as the trainer I rode with who told me to "hit him harder" every time my poor frazzled horse bolted. Instructors are not gods. You've got to do what makes sense. If an instructor tells you to hold your reins with your teeth and put your hands up over your head to get your horse to do a collected trot, maybe it's time to move on to a new teacher.
That reminds me, not completely relevantly, of the time one of camp kids, in the blink of an eye, slung her reins around her neck and said "Look at me! I'm neck reining!" If I hadn't been so panic stricken, I would have laughed because it was a pretty good joke. A very dangerous joke, but funny after the fact. Anyway...
The point is, have a little faith in your instructor. He or she has (one would hope) more training than you, more experience than you, and can see what you are doing. If she says put your hands down and the whine comes bubbling forth from your self-assured brain that you are putting your hands down, then put them down some more. Or use more outside rein. Or ask your horse for more forwardness, or less neck bend or or more haunches in. Whatever it is, you are paying this person to tell you how to do a better job so don't whine if you're told what to do. Put a little Nike in your ride and just do it. Or don't, but go somewhere else for lessons. Instructors do not like to be argued with or whined at.
If you have a question, by all means ask. Many times I've taught lessons thinking my student clearly understood every theory I put forth when in reality I could have been speaking in tongues and my student would have nodded politely and said, yes that makes sense. Riding sometimes feels like you are deep in a game of Twister or doing the hokey-pokey but it should all come together eventually if you have faith in your instructor. Just remember that even though you feel like you are putting your right foot in, your instructor can see that instead, you are shaking it all about.
Monday, March 4, 2013
You Say Tomato
"On the bit" is a phrase I try not to use. Instead I will use "in balance", "connected", "accepting contact", "soft in the bridle", "round" and other semantic terms because, truly, the bit has very little to do with it. In all actuality a horse can be "on the bit" in a bitless bridle, or a halter, or nothing. It's a feeling, more than anything, that the horse and rider are of one mind and one body. There is no resistance or tension from either participant and by merely thinking of what to do and where to go the rider gets immediate cooperation from the horse.
Just because a horse puts his head down or arches his neck does not put him "on the bit". A lot of false postures can happen through strong bits or ropes and pulleys or restrictive gear that can cause a horse to adopt an appearance of being connected but in those cases the horse's body is not involved so he will still be bracing and uncooperative.
Other phrases I don't use are "head set" and "in a frame". Both sound very fixed and rigid to me. It may be a case of tow-may-toe, tah-mah-toe but I just can't bring myself to say the words when referring to a horse's balance.
A student once asked me if a horse ever learns to just stay on the bit by itself. I told her no, that a horse can only respond to particular cues when applied. That's not entirely true. Oops. Should have thought my reply through a little before answering. When left to its own devices, a horse, on its own, of its own free will, will move on the bit. Horses arch their necks, collect their hindquarters, lift their backs and move across the ground as if on air when they are feeling particularly frisky or showing off for another horse (and sometimes just showing off in general even if no one is looking) and that is what we strive for as humans: to ride a horse in a way that looks as if the horse is thoroughly enjoying himself and having the time of his life.
How is it possible to achieve that through a strong bit or restrictive gear? Does the horse say "My head is tied down, and I am having the best fun!"
I'm not against bits completely. I do wish certain bits were illegal to use in competition and that more bitless bridles were allowed but I do ride most of the time with a bitted bridle and I try to do it as compassionately as I can. I expect the same from my horses as I give them which means there is no yanking on the reins. Unfortunately, some horses, either through lack of training or poor training somewhere in their past, have learned to yank or lean on the reins. Those horses, I call spoiled, not spoiled like a bratty kid but spoiled like a tomato left out on the counter too long.
With work, those horses can be reclaimed but on the condition that any riders from that point on, ride them with skill and don't let them slip back into the bit-pulling habits. Horses don't learn to lean on the bit by themselves. It comes from a rider who is heavy on the reins or a horse that keeps the reins heavy as a defense against rough hands.
In order to re-educate that type of horses it can be necessary to take the bit out of the equation and ride in a bitless bridle. Other times, it means a change of bit. But sometimes the habit is such that regardless of what is in or not in the horse's mouth, he will lean on the reins. A human's hands can never be utterly steady and consistent so it can be very difficult for a person to work through that issue. A rider should always strive to work on having steady, controlled hands - which doesn't mean fixed hands. Fixed hands are dead hands, they just plant and stick in one place. Fixed hands can be a step toward learning to keep hands steady and is a good lesson for a lot of beginners but at some point, the hands then need to come to life and communicate with the horse. One thing at a time.
For riders who haven't learned that nuance yet, or for horses that are particularly strong, I will use sidereins on the horse when it is being longed. Side reins are not for riding in, that is a recipe for disaster. Sidereins used when longing need to definitely be used with care. They have to be introduced gradually, and fastened in such a way that the horse is not forced into a position but when he pulls on the reins aggressively, that the reins are tight and uncomfortable. As soon as the horse relaxes, the pressure on the bit should come off immediately. Just as with any piece of equipment, sidereins can be used wrongly and cause the horse more grief.
There are always going to be spoiled horses (which keeps horse trainers in business) just as, at least in this house, there will always be spoiled tomatoes. At least the training I do allows me to be able to buy new tomatoes. Buying a new horse is not as easy.
However, a spoiled horse can be reconditioned, unlike a spoiled tomato so there is not need to get a new horse. Don't think of your horse as disposable, but put some effort into becoming a better rider, trying different or less equipment and get your horse out of a frame and into a conversation. With some time and consideration you and your horse will start speaking the same language and you will both be having the best fun.
Just because a horse puts his head down or arches his neck does not put him "on the bit". A lot of false postures can happen through strong bits or ropes and pulleys or restrictive gear that can cause a horse to adopt an appearance of being connected but in those cases the horse's body is not involved so he will still be bracing and uncooperative.
Other phrases I don't use are "head set" and "in a frame". Both sound very fixed and rigid to me. It may be a case of tow-may-toe, tah-mah-toe but I just can't bring myself to say the words when referring to a horse's balance.
A student once asked me if a horse ever learns to just stay on the bit by itself. I told her no, that a horse can only respond to particular cues when applied. That's not entirely true. Oops. Should have thought my reply through a little before answering. When left to its own devices, a horse, on its own, of its own free will, will move on the bit. Horses arch their necks, collect their hindquarters, lift their backs and move across the ground as if on air when they are feeling particularly frisky or showing off for another horse (and sometimes just showing off in general even if no one is looking) and that is what we strive for as humans: to ride a horse in a way that looks as if the horse is thoroughly enjoying himself and having the time of his life.
How is it possible to achieve that through a strong bit or restrictive gear? Does the horse say "My head is tied down, and I am having the best fun!"
I'm not against bits completely. I do wish certain bits were illegal to use in competition and that more bitless bridles were allowed but I do ride most of the time with a bitted bridle and I try to do it as compassionately as I can. I expect the same from my horses as I give them which means there is no yanking on the reins. Unfortunately, some horses, either through lack of training or poor training somewhere in their past, have learned to yank or lean on the reins. Those horses, I call spoiled, not spoiled like a bratty kid but spoiled like a tomato left out on the counter too long.
With work, those horses can be reclaimed but on the condition that any riders from that point on, ride them with skill and don't let them slip back into the bit-pulling habits. Horses don't learn to lean on the bit by themselves. It comes from a rider who is heavy on the reins or a horse that keeps the reins heavy as a defense against rough hands.
In order to re-educate that type of horses it can be necessary to take the bit out of the equation and ride in a bitless bridle. Other times, it means a change of bit. But sometimes the habit is such that regardless of what is in or not in the horse's mouth, he will lean on the reins. A human's hands can never be utterly steady and consistent so it can be very difficult for a person to work through that issue. A rider should always strive to work on having steady, controlled hands - which doesn't mean fixed hands. Fixed hands are dead hands, they just plant and stick in one place. Fixed hands can be a step toward learning to keep hands steady and is a good lesson for a lot of beginners but at some point, the hands then need to come to life and communicate with the horse. One thing at a time.
For riders who haven't learned that nuance yet, or for horses that are particularly strong, I will use sidereins on the horse when it is being longed. Side reins are not for riding in, that is a recipe for disaster. Sidereins used when longing need to definitely be used with care. They have to be introduced gradually, and fastened in such a way that the horse is not forced into a position but when he pulls on the reins aggressively, that the reins are tight and uncomfortable. As soon as the horse relaxes, the pressure on the bit should come off immediately. Just as with any piece of equipment, sidereins can be used wrongly and cause the horse more grief.
There are always going to be spoiled horses (which keeps horse trainers in business) just as, at least in this house, there will always be spoiled tomatoes. At least the training I do allows me to be able to buy new tomatoes. Buying a new horse is not as easy.
However, a spoiled horse can be reconditioned, unlike a spoiled tomato so there is not need to get a new horse. Don't think of your horse as disposable, but put some effort into becoming a better rider, trying different or less equipment and get your horse out of a frame and into a conversation. With some time and consideration you and your horse will start speaking the same language and you will both be having the best fun.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
It's A Dirty Job
Recently, thanks to a good friend, I discovered a television show called "Dirty Jobs". While I knew the show existed, I'd never seen an episode until these past few days when I watched several. Okay, a whole bunch. Quite a lot, really. What can I say, it's a good show. Hosted by Mike Rowe, the show gives a glimpse into the daily operations of jobs that keep the country functioning. Jobs for which not many people will voluntarily sign up. Gross jobs. Wet jobs. Stinky jobs. Dirty jobs.
Mike Rowe is a fascinating person. He has been in show business forever and came up with the idea for the Dirty Jobs show as an homage to his father and grandfather who both were blue collar workers. In the show, Mike takes on the position of apprentice for jobs such as sewer inspector, leather tanner, and road kill collector. Previously, he spent time working as a QVC host, opera singer, voice-over actor and other similar, clean occupations.
Certainly, I can relate to the dirty part of a lot of these jobs. Dealing with poo, mud, large animals and smells no one would consider bottling and selling goes with the territory of a riding stable. While Mike began the show as a bit of a light-hearted look at some disgusting work, he came to the realization that without people doing these jobs, life would come to a standstill and be buried under piles of muck. Not every job is fancy. As he points out, for every cell phone out there, there are hundreds of people putting together circuitry, packaging products, shipping boxes and making sure those phones make it into the hands of the public. Mike developed a profound respect for the people doing dirty jobs and is now an advocate for tradesmen and women (www.mikeroweworks.com). He also recognized that people in those positions assume responsibility for the risk involved. They know how to be safe. They know how to be careful. They know how to stay alive. Accidents happen of course, but these are not the people out there suing a fast food chain for making hot coffee.
Take responsibility for the risk. If more people would do this then my insurance rates would go down. Riding stables have tremendous liability insurance cost due to the number of lawsuits that arise from injuries in dealing with or being around horses. There is a risk in being within 20 meters of a horse, you would think people would assume that, but no. For example, a woman riding her own horse across the yard at a public riding stable, sued the stable owner when the horse tripped causing the woman to fall off and break an arm. Should the stable owner have made sure the turf in the yard was completely level? Or not allowed riders to cross the yard while mounted on a horse? At some point, a rider has to take the responsibility for her own safety. Despite any number of release of liability forms people are asked to sign before engaging in equestrian pursuits, a horse owner or property owner can still be taken to court and have to spend thousands of dollars in defense, on top of all the thousands of dollars spent on insurance.
At one of the barns where I work, more and more safety rules are put into force every week. It seems the students can just not stay out of harm's way. Before everyone ends up in haz-mat suits and protective eye gear with safety harnesses suspending them from cranes while horses are shackled and led by 2 burly men, students better start taking some of the responsibility on themselves. If they are not fit enough to ride, then they need to hit the gym. If they don't know enough, they need to read some books or watch some videos and pay better attention to the instructor. However, it is never an instructor's job to keep a rider safe. Nor is it the horse's job to keep a rider safe. Who should keep the rider safe, then? Her own darn self, that's who.
Just this morning, while turning out horses here at home, my helper for chores strapped on ice cleats to her boots. I didn't think they were necessary, didn't seem all that icy to me, but she was taking responsibility for her own safety. She wasn't relying on anyone else to keep her fanny off the ice, or taking someone's word for it, but doing whatever was necessary, just in case of a slip up, to keep herself upright. Just like the people featured in the tv program will tell you, you gotta do what you gotta do. It may be dangerous, stinky or dirty (and often all three) but sometimes the job has to be done anyway.
Risk isn't necessary, but responsibility is.
Mike Rowe is a fascinating person. He has been in show business forever and came up with the idea for the Dirty Jobs show as an homage to his father and grandfather who both were blue collar workers. In the show, Mike takes on the position of apprentice for jobs such as sewer inspector, leather tanner, and road kill collector. Previously, he spent time working as a QVC host, opera singer, voice-over actor and other similar, clean occupations.
Certainly, I can relate to the dirty part of a lot of these jobs. Dealing with poo, mud, large animals and smells no one would consider bottling and selling goes with the territory of a riding stable. While Mike began the show as a bit of a light-hearted look at some disgusting work, he came to the realization that without people doing these jobs, life would come to a standstill and be buried under piles of muck. Not every job is fancy. As he points out, for every cell phone out there, there are hundreds of people putting together circuitry, packaging products, shipping boxes and making sure those phones make it into the hands of the public. Mike developed a profound respect for the people doing dirty jobs and is now an advocate for tradesmen and women (www.mikeroweworks.com). He also recognized that people in those positions assume responsibility for the risk involved. They know how to be safe. They know how to be careful. They know how to stay alive. Accidents happen of course, but these are not the people out there suing a fast food chain for making hot coffee.
Take responsibility for the risk. If more people would do this then my insurance rates would go down. Riding stables have tremendous liability insurance cost due to the number of lawsuits that arise from injuries in dealing with or being around horses. There is a risk in being within 20 meters of a horse, you would think people would assume that, but no. For example, a woman riding her own horse across the yard at a public riding stable, sued the stable owner when the horse tripped causing the woman to fall off and break an arm. Should the stable owner have made sure the turf in the yard was completely level? Or not allowed riders to cross the yard while mounted on a horse? At some point, a rider has to take the responsibility for her own safety. Despite any number of release of liability forms people are asked to sign before engaging in equestrian pursuits, a horse owner or property owner can still be taken to court and have to spend thousands of dollars in defense, on top of all the thousands of dollars spent on insurance.
At one of the barns where I work, more and more safety rules are put into force every week. It seems the students can just not stay out of harm's way. Before everyone ends up in haz-mat suits and protective eye gear with safety harnesses suspending them from cranes while horses are shackled and led by 2 burly men, students better start taking some of the responsibility on themselves. If they are not fit enough to ride, then they need to hit the gym. If they don't know enough, they need to read some books or watch some videos and pay better attention to the instructor. However, it is never an instructor's job to keep a rider safe. Nor is it the horse's job to keep a rider safe. Who should keep the rider safe, then? Her own darn self, that's who.
Just this morning, while turning out horses here at home, my helper for chores strapped on ice cleats to her boots. I didn't think they were necessary, didn't seem all that icy to me, but she was taking responsibility for her own safety. She wasn't relying on anyone else to keep her fanny off the ice, or taking someone's word for it, but doing whatever was necessary, just in case of a slip up, to keep herself upright. Just like the people featured in the tv program will tell you, you gotta do what you gotta do. It may be dangerous, stinky or dirty (and often all three) but sometimes the job has to be done anyway.
Risk isn't necessary, but responsibility is.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
"I'll Be Back Upon My Feet"
I miss my horse!!! He hasn't gone anywhere, he's right outside my door. The trouble is, I'm stuck on the other side of the door. My knee surgery on the 3rd prevented me from being out in then barn but now that I could be in the barn, I've been side-lined by daily migraines and nausea/vertigo attacks. I did get out for a little while this morning and helped a wee bit with chores despite feeling ill and it was lovely to see my boys again. It was very apparent that they have been being spoiled by my students who have been riding them while I'm laid up when they both immediately frisked me for cookies. As of 8:00 this morning, they are on the no-had-feeding list, right at the top and underlined twice.
It was good to see those boys. When my leg is a little sturdier and my head isn't pounding and I don't feel like I'm on the Tilt-A-Whirl, I'll spend more time with them. And Venus. Poor Venus is even more neglected because there aren't any students riding her. For a walk/trot only horse, she's complicated. She's a good girl but keeping her balanced so that she trots instead of pacing takes some delicate riding. Not that I have anything against pacers, they are fun to ride, but I've tried to discourage her pacing so that she can go to horse shows. That topic could be a whole post on its own so I'll save that for another day.
One thing I really want to try with Venus is some bridle-less riding. We do a lot of groundwork without a halter & lead, but the riding would be something that would challenge both of us and give us another goal. I need goals when I'm riding. There has to be an event or horse show or level or something for me to work for. There are days when I just want to get on and have a nice ride, but usually I need to have that destination in mind to keep my riding fresh. I don't always need to work on the horse, there are lots of things I can work on for myself. Looking at photos from last Summer it is very obvious that I have been lax about heels down. There is the ever-present problem of my posture, which has improved but needs to be better and I need to work on jumping to help assuage my own trepidation.
As soon as I can, I'll be back out in the barn and back to work. It will be at least another 3 weeks before I can ride due to my knee brace which is basically a shark cage on my leg. The brace keeps my knee from slipping sideways and undoing the ACL surgery I just went through, and should any Great Whites attack, my left leg is completely safe.
It was good to see those boys. When my leg is a little sturdier and my head isn't pounding and I don't feel like I'm on the Tilt-A-Whirl, I'll spend more time with them. And Venus. Poor Venus is even more neglected because there aren't any students riding her. For a walk/trot only horse, she's complicated. She's a good girl but keeping her balanced so that she trots instead of pacing takes some delicate riding. Not that I have anything against pacers, they are fun to ride, but I've tried to discourage her pacing so that she can go to horse shows. That topic could be a whole post on its own so I'll save that for another day.
One thing I really want to try with Venus is some bridle-less riding. We do a lot of groundwork without a halter & lead, but the riding would be something that would challenge both of us and give us another goal. I need goals when I'm riding. There has to be an event or horse show or level or something for me to work for. There are days when I just want to get on and have a nice ride, but usually I need to have that destination in mind to keep my riding fresh. I don't always need to work on the horse, there are lots of things I can work on for myself. Looking at photos from last Summer it is very obvious that I have been lax about heels down. There is the ever-present problem of my posture, which has improved but needs to be better and I need to work on jumping to help assuage my own trepidation.
As soon as I can, I'll be back out in the barn and back to work. It will be at least another 3 weeks before I can ride due to my knee brace which is basically a shark cage on my leg. The brace keeps my knee from slipping sideways and undoing the ACL surgery I just went through, and should any Great Whites attack, my left leg is completely safe.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
A Perfect Fit
There is not much that I dislike more than trying on jeans. There can be 12 pairs of jeans in my dressing room, different brands but all the same tag size (my tag size), and not a dang one of them will fit correctly. One will gape at the waist, one is too short, one doesn't come up past my thighs, one goes up to my armpits, one is too tight, one is so big that I could fit another person in each leg, and so on. It is also guaranteed that if I do happen to find a pair of jeans that fit and are comfortable, that the manufacturer will immediately stop their production.
Fitting a saddle to a horse is just as frustrating and 30 times more expensive. Saddle fit is tremendously important for both rider and horse and a saddle that fits both is the Holy Grail of the equestrian world. There are people with unlimited budgets who can afford to have a saddle custom made that fits both parties equally well. And then there is us. The rest of us, most of us, have very limited budgets and must make due with off the rack models.
To imagine how a horse with a poorly fitting saddle feels, put on a pair of shoes that don't fit, fill a back pack with 20 pounds of sand and then jog around the block. Your feet will hurt, your back will hurt. Hips, knees, shoulders, all of 'em - aching. Now, do it again the next day.
Saddles do not have to be $5000 custom made saddles in order to fit correctly. An expensive saddle can fit as badly as a cheap saddle, if it's put on the wrong horse. So how do you know if a saddle fits? I can share what I've learned about fitting English saddles (excluding Saddleseat) by paying attention to saddle fit experts, reading and watching instructional videos.
First, examine the saddle. If you pull the pommel and cantle toward each other does the saddle bend in the middle (it should not)? Does the gullet (the channel underneath) go straight and evenly down the center of the saddle? Are the panels of even size and shape? Are the billet straps solid looking (no oval shaped holes, no splits, cracks or thin spots in the leather)? Is the padding in the panels smooth (no lumps)? When viewed from the front do the seat and cantle line up evenly (not twist to one side)? If the saddle passes inspection, it can be placed on the horse. You will have to check if it gives the withers at least 2 fingers height under the pommel, if the gullet gives clearance for the horses spine, if the middle of the seat is the lowest point, if the billet straps point straight down (not angled forward or back), if the panels distribute pressure evenly down the length of the saddle and whether the saddle rocks from side to side. If the saddle passes that test, you can fasten it on with a girth, which can then greatly affect the fit. If the saddle is still in contention, it is time to sit on it on the horse's back. If the saddle still sits level, gives wither clearance and clears the spine. Then it's time to ride. Knowing your own horse well, you should be able to tell if he is comfortable by the way he moves. Is he stepping out freely, willing to go forward and relaxed, or is he mincing, grinding his teeth, carrying himself crooked, reluctant to go forward or round, swishing his tail, kicking, bucking or rearing? If so, you should get off. Then try the next saddle.
All of the trials should be done sans saddle pads. Pads can alter the fit for the better or detrimentally. Sometimes saddles are built evenly and balanced, but horses are not. A horse that is built downhill or uphill may need a balancing pad to fit a saddle. A horse that is swaybacked or has tremendously high withers may need extra padding to level the saddle. If a saddle fits all other criteria but needs a little balancing, then an auxiliary pad can be used. No amount of padding can make a badly fitting saddle comfortable for the horse. Do lots of extra socks make your shoes fit nicely - so nicely that you could either dance a waltz or run the hurdles? It doesn't work that way.
The good news is (Sarcasm Alert: all gullible people should skip to the end), as soon as your horse either gets in shape, or goes out of work, the saddle doesn't fit anymore! And we start all over.
While you don't need to take out a loan to buy a saddle, getting the $150 deal (stirrups, girth, bridle and bit - all included!) isn't going to swing it. The saddle (stirrups, girth, bridle and bit) is cheap because it is made of cardboard and was sewn together by nervous hamsters. It isn't worth $150. Unless you want to pay $150 for a saddle shaped paperweight. Used saddles are certainly a good option, provided they pass all the pre-horse-wearing tests. The prices can be very reasonable and if it's good quality leather and construction, a saddle can last for decades. A good quality saddle will aslo have a good resale value should you run into the situation described above (which all the gullible people don't know about because they skipped ahead).
A saddle that fits well for both horse and rider will make your riding time more productive, more comfortable and more fun. It is worth the time and hassle, much like the hunt for the perfect pair of jeans.
Fitting a saddle to a horse is just as frustrating and 30 times more expensive. Saddle fit is tremendously important for both rider and horse and a saddle that fits both is the Holy Grail of the equestrian world. There are people with unlimited budgets who can afford to have a saddle custom made that fits both parties equally well. And then there is us. The rest of us, most of us, have very limited budgets and must make due with off the rack models.
To imagine how a horse with a poorly fitting saddle feels, put on a pair of shoes that don't fit, fill a back pack with 20 pounds of sand and then jog around the block. Your feet will hurt, your back will hurt. Hips, knees, shoulders, all of 'em - aching. Now, do it again the next day.
Saddles do not have to be $5000 custom made saddles in order to fit correctly. An expensive saddle can fit as badly as a cheap saddle, if it's put on the wrong horse. So how do you know if a saddle fits? I can share what I've learned about fitting English saddles (excluding Saddleseat) by paying attention to saddle fit experts, reading and watching instructional videos.
First, examine the saddle. If you pull the pommel and cantle toward each other does the saddle bend in the middle (it should not)? Does the gullet (the channel underneath) go straight and evenly down the center of the saddle? Are the panels of even size and shape? Are the billet straps solid looking (no oval shaped holes, no splits, cracks or thin spots in the leather)? Is the padding in the panels smooth (no lumps)? When viewed from the front do the seat and cantle line up evenly (not twist to one side)? If the saddle passes inspection, it can be placed on the horse. You will have to check if it gives the withers at least 2 fingers height under the pommel, if the gullet gives clearance for the horses spine, if the middle of the seat is the lowest point, if the billet straps point straight down (not angled forward or back), if the panels distribute pressure evenly down the length of the saddle and whether the saddle rocks from side to side. If the saddle passes that test, you can fasten it on with a girth, which can then greatly affect the fit. If the saddle is still in contention, it is time to sit on it on the horse's back. If the saddle still sits level, gives wither clearance and clears the spine. Then it's time to ride. Knowing your own horse well, you should be able to tell if he is comfortable by the way he moves. Is he stepping out freely, willing to go forward and relaxed, or is he mincing, grinding his teeth, carrying himself crooked, reluctant to go forward or round, swishing his tail, kicking, bucking or rearing? If so, you should get off. Then try the next saddle.
All of the trials should be done sans saddle pads. Pads can alter the fit for the better or detrimentally. Sometimes saddles are built evenly and balanced, but horses are not. A horse that is built downhill or uphill may need a balancing pad to fit a saddle. A horse that is swaybacked or has tremendously high withers may need extra padding to level the saddle. If a saddle fits all other criteria but needs a little balancing, then an auxiliary pad can be used. No amount of padding can make a badly fitting saddle comfortable for the horse. Do lots of extra socks make your shoes fit nicely - so nicely that you could either dance a waltz or run the hurdles? It doesn't work that way.
The good news is (Sarcasm Alert: all gullible people should skip to the end), as soon as your horse either gets in shape, or goes out of work, the saddle doesn't fit anymore! And we start all over.
While you don't need to take out a loan to buy a saddle, getting the $150 deal (stirrups, girth, bridle and bit - all included!) isn't going to swing it. The saddle (stirrups, girth, bridle and bit) is cheap because it is made of cardboard and was sewn together by nervous hamsters. It isn't worth $150. Unless you want to pay $150 for a saddle shaped paperweight. Used saddles are certainly a good option, provided they pass all the pre-horse-wearing tests. The prices can be very reasonable and if it's good quality leather and construction, a saddle can last for decades. A good quality saddle will aslo have a good resale value should you run into the situation described above (which all the gullible people don't know about because they skipped ahead).
A saddle that fits well for both horse and rider will make your riding time more productive, more comfortable and more fun. It is worth the time and hassle, much like the hunt for the perfect pair of jeans.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
That's So Lame
There is not much that will sink a rider's spirit faster than a lame horse. It can be subtle: a hitch in the stride, a bob of the head, a drag of a toe, or more blatant signs like an unwillingness, inability to put a hoof to the ground, or a grossly swollen limb. The causes of any of those signs are tenfold.
Any person that has ever owned, or looked at, a horse will have an opinion and solution for the lameness. Those remedies and ideas about a course of action can range from insane to lackadaisical. I have faith that anyone reading this would fall nicely between the two at reasonable.
Diagnosing lameness can be done very quickly, if a horse owner has wads of hundred dollar bills falling out of her pockets. It merely takes a quick trip to an equine clinic filled with radiograph machines, ultrasound devices, MRI and CAT and other acronymical (pretty sure I just made that word up) contraptions, lasers, digital images, arthroscope thingies, and so on. It just takes loads, or wads, of cash to be able to access that type of equipment and the people trained to use it.
Even a vet with a lowly x-ray machine is going to require a fistful (technically: 1/2 of a wad) of dough to examine a horse. However, most horse people I know will call the vet for a lame horse, but will wrap their own broken hand with some Vetrap and swallow a half-dozen Advil calling it good. Calling the vet is necessary when the horse is non-weight-bearing on one limb or has a swollen joint because those can be quite serious. But with the more subtle lameness, it's hard to know if a little rest, Bute, cold hosing, wrapping and/or poultice will solve the issue. How long should we give that lame horse before calling in a vet? A week? A day? 2 days? Whether or not the lameness is discovered on the weekend can be a factor in deciding when to call due to the cost of a farm visit from the vet on a weekend jumping from a fistful, to a chunk of cash.
Not that any one of our horses isn't worth many chunks of cash to us, but horsepeople operate on strict budgets. If the vet visit isn't necessary, that money can be used for board, feed, a blanket or something else more essential. It can be a tough call. The horses don't help. They can be so stoic and so willing to work that they will carry on with a significant problem which can lead an owner to believe that it's not that bad. My own horse gamely tried to trot with a fractured pelvis while the vet and I tried several different treatments before discovering the problem. In fact, the only reason I knew he wasn't right was that he couldn't canter. He tried, because that's how amazing horses are, but he couldn't physically do it. Thankfully, after stall rest, anti-inflammatories and eventually, chiropractic work, he returned to full soundness.
Often, as in the previous example, a source of lameness is determined only by process of elimination. Meanwhile the horse carries on, jogging a hundred times for examinations, trying his best to comply even with pain. A horse will still race, compete, trot around the ring when asked - even if he is in pain. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt that much, it means the horse is an animal that needs to move to live and aims to please so much, that he carries on.
Lameness in a horse does not just crush our dreams of riding, but it is agonizing to watch a horse move with pain. They can not speak to tell us where it hurts and what is making them hurt. We have to guess. We have to be sleuths. We have to be interpreters and clairvoyant. And we have to be patient.
It can take a long time for some causes of lameness to be resolved and even then, if the horse returns to soundness, care must be taken to ease the horse back into work. Putting a horse back into the same schedule it had pre-lameness, after time off can cause a new lameness, or re-injure the newly healed one. One of my horses has tendon sheaths that look like shredded wheat because of being put back to work too quickly after an injury. That was before I got him, so don't accuse me.
Along with deciding when to call the vet comes the decision about medicating the horse so that he can still be ridden. As a person who often requires NSAIDs to function, I can empathize with a horse that needs a little something to ease discomfort in order to move around. IF (capitalized on purpose) a horse enjoys his work and is eager to do it and can be lightly assisted by non-harmful means, then there is no reason not to medicate. An example would be an older horse with signs of arthritis that finds freedom of movement after treatment with Adequan, oral supplements or an occasional dose of Bute. Masking an injury with drugs, or asking a horse to perform with an lameness that will be made worse through work, is shameful.
Lameness is inevitable at some point in a horse's life. The only ways to ward off a lameness are to keep our horses fit, keep their hooves in good condition with regular trimming, be mindful of footing, and pay attention to changes in performance in order to catch a problem early. There is no way to completely protect a horse from becoming lame so go ahead and enjoy riding your horse and let him live outdoors, as a horse should and continue to walk the line between lackadaisical and insane.
Any person that has ever owned, or looked at, a horse will have an opinion and solution for the lameness. Those remedies and ideas about a course of action can range from insane to lackadaisical. I have faith that anyone reading this would fall nicely between the two at reasonable.
Diagnosing lameness can be done very quickly, if a horse owner has wads of hundred dollar bills falling out of her pockets. It merely takes a quick trip to an equine clinic filled with radiograph machines, ultrasound devices, MRI and CAT and other acronymical (pretty sure I just made that word up) contraptions, lasers, digital images, arthroscope thingies, and so on. It just takes loads, or wads, of cash to be able to access that type of equipment and the people trained to use it.
Even a vet with a lowly x-ray machine is going to require a fistful (technically: 1/2 of a wad) of dough to examine a horse. However, most horse people I know will call the vet for a lame horse, but will wrap their own broken hand with some Vetrap and swallow a half-dozen Advil calling it good. Calling the vet is necessary when the horse is non-weight-bearing on one limb or has a swollen joint because those can be quite serious. But with the more subtle lameness, it's hard to know if a little rest, Bute, cold hosing, wrapping and/or poultice will solve the issue. How long should we give that lame horse before calling in a vet? A week? A day? 2 days? Whether or not the lameness is discovered on the weekend can be a factor in deciding when to call due to the cost of a farm visit from the vet on a weekend jumping from a fistful, to a chunk of cash.
Not that any one of our horses isn't worth many chunks of cash to us, but horsepeople operate on strict budgets. If the vet visit isn't necessary, that money can be used for board, feed, a blanket or something else more essential. It can be a tough call. The horses don't help. They can be so stoic and so willing to work that they will carry on with a significant problem which can lead an owner to believe that it's not that bad. My own horse gamely tried to trot with a fractured pelvis while the vet and I tried several different treatments before discovering the problem. In fact, the only reason I knew he wasn't right was that he couldn't canter. He tried, because that's how amazing horses are, but he couldn't physically do it. Thankfully, after stall rest, anti-inflammatories and eventually, chiropractic work, he returned to full soundness.
Often, as in the previous example, a source of lameness is determined only by process of elimination. Meanwhile the horse carries on, jogging a hundred times for examinations, trying his best to comply even with pain. A horse will still race, compete, trot around the ring when asked - even if he is in pain. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt that much, it means the horse is an animal that needs to move to live and aims to please so much, that he carries on.
Lameness in a horse does not just crush our dreams of riding, but it is agonizing to watch a horse move with pain. They can not speak to tell us where it hurts and what is making them hurt. We have to guess. We have to be sleuths. We have to be interpreters and clairvoyant. And we have to be patient.
It can take a long time for some causes of lameness to be resolved and even then, if the horse returns to soundness, care must be taken to ease the horse back into work. Putting a horse back into the same schedule it had pre-lameness, after time off can cause a new lameness, or re-injure the newly healed one. One of my horses has tendon sheaths that look like shredded wheat because of being put back to work too quickly after an injury. That was before I got him, so don't accuse me.
Along with deciding when to call the vet comes the decision about medicating the horse so that he can still be ridden. As a person who often requires NSAIDs to function, I can empathize with a horse that needs a little something to ease discomfort in order to move around. IF (capitalized on purpose) a horse enjoys his work and is eager to do it and can be lightly assisted by non-harmful means, then there is no reason not to medicate. An example would be an older horse with signs of arthritis that finds freedom of movement after treatment with Adequan, oral supplements or an occasional dose of Bute. Masking an injury with drugs, or asking a horse to perform with an lameness that will be made worse through work, is shameful.
Lameness is inevitable at some point in a horse's life. The only ways to ward off a lameness are to keep our horses fit, keep their hooves in good condition with regular trimming, be mindful of footing, and pay attention to changes in performance in order to catch a problem early. There is no way to completely protect a horse from becoming lame so go ahead and enjoy riding your horse and let him live outdoors, as a horse should and continue to walk the line between lackadaisical and insane.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Slaying The Dragon
Here's the situation: Horse sees something potentially terrifying (dragon, piece of paper, blue bucket) and shies sideways on top of his person in an attempt to either a) hide behind person b) climb into person's lap or c) maim person so that potentially terrifying object will go for the lamed prey and horse can escape unscathed.
Here's the person: While dodging 1000 pounds of erratic horse, "It's okay! You're okay! Good boy, good boy, you're okay! Have some cookies. It's okay!" and petting said horse lovingly.
Here's the horse: "That was so scary! And I just got praised for jumping around like a fool. If I do it again, I bet I'll get more cookies when I am done."
This is not okay.
Horses, in a moment of fear and/or confusion, do not need comforting, they need direction. As the leader in the relationship, it is the person's duty to give the horse an idea of how to behave when faced with something startling. It is not about dominating the horse. It is not about making the horse stop. In a moment like that, a horse can not stop. His instinct takes over and he will head for the hills regardless of any humans in his path. Any time we try to "make" a horse do anything, it doesn't become trained. Training is a matter of giving the horse a signal and allowing him to respond to it. As a trainer, the person can choose what signal to use, but it is best to pick something practical and makes sense. It's not in anyone's best interest to teach a horse to gallop with a voice command of "Whoa". Oh! That reminds me of a joke:
A greenhorn approaches a cowboy and wants to buy his his horse. The cowboy says, I will sell you this horse, but I'm gonna warn you. This horse is trained to gallop full out when you say "Thank God." and to stop on a dime when you say "Lord, help me." Thinking that the cowboy is pulling his leg, the greenhorn laughs and buys the horse on the spot. He mounts up and gives the horse a kick. The horse does nothing. Greenhorn slaps the horse with the reins. Nothing. He hollers "Giddy up!". Nothing. Feeling foolish, he finally says "Thank God" and the horse takes off like a rocket. The greenhorn is enjoying the speed with which his new horse is covering the ground mile after mile, but up ahead, he can see the edge of a canyon. He sits back in his saddle and says "Whoa!". The horse gallops on. He frets a little and pulls frantically on the reins. The horse is still galloping full tilt toward the edge of the cliff. The greenhorn fears for his life and grabs hold of the saddle horn and prays "Lord, help me!" The horse stops dead, right at the edge of the 200 foot drop. Feeling tremendously relieved, he wipes his brow and says "Thank God".
I didn't write the joke, but I sure did enjoy telling it when I was a kid. The moral is, don't be a greenhorn. Be a leader. Take charge. Assure your horse that when he is with you there is nothing to be afraid of. It is necessary that the person in charge isn't afraid of blue buckets or pieces of paper. A person can not be afraid that her horse is going to be afraid of something. The horse senses that and becomes suspicious.
Should the person act as if there's no big deal, nothing scary here, no reason to get excited, then the horse will feed off of that calmness and confidence. That's not all though. As the leader, the person has to give some direction. When faced with dragons, the person needs to give her horse's feet something to do so they won't be dancing on her head. Sometimes, a horse just can't whoa, even if you pray. The instinct to run away is so strong that an argument will ensue should a person ask a horse to whoa when that dragon shows up. However, giving the horse a direction to go, especially back, gives him something to do rather than dance on his person's head.
Giving the horse something to do isn't punishing him. No one is telling the horse he is wrong for spooking. We are telling the horse, don't spook on top of me. Tell the horse to stay over there, to back up, or to piaffe (as I did with one habitually spooky horse) when he is scared. Do not praise him him or comfort him when he tries to use you as a staircase to escape. Just be cool. Be calm. Don't get excited. Be matter of fact. This is my space, horse. That is yours.
Additionally, don't let a horse look at the dragon. Get his attention. The leader needs to say "Pay attention to me, not that. Follow my directions and you will be okay." When I'm riding a horse and we come upon something scary, I want that horse to turn to me for guidance. If I let him fixate on the dragon (or cow or mailbox), he's not paying attention to me and I've lost my leadership. If I give him something to do, it redirects his mind. If I can get a horse to move it's feet, I can get it's mind back on track
Eventually, the horse will become less surprised by blue buckets and dragons and will hold his ground when faced with such monsters. It takes time and consistency a horse to develop trust in his person. The cool thing is that it does happen. Thank God.
Here's the person: While dodging 1000 pounds of erratic horse, "It's okay! You're okay! Good boy, good boy, you're okay! Have some cookies. It's okay!" and petting said horse lovingly.
Here's the horse: "That was so scary! And I just got praised for jumping around like a fool. If I do it again, I bet I'll get more cookies when I am done."
This is not okay.
Horses, in a moment of fear and/or confusion, do not need comforting, they need direction. As the leader in the relationship, it is the person's duty to give the horse an idea of how to behave when faced with something startling. It is not about dominating the horse. It is not about making the horse stop. In a moment like that, a horse can not stop. His instinct takes over and he will head for the hills regardless of any humans in his path. Any time we try to "make" a horse do anything, it doesn't become trained. Training is a matter of giving the horse a signal and allowing him to respond to it. As a trainer, the person can choose what signal to use, but it is best to pick something practical and makes sense. It's not in anyone's best interest to teach a horse to gallop with a voice command of "Whoa". Oh! That reminds me of a joke:
A greenhorn approaches a cowboy and wants to buy his his horse. The cowboy says, I will sell you this horse, but I'm gonna warn you. This horse is trained to gallop full out when you say "Thank God." and to stop on a dime when you say "Lord, help me." Thinking that the cowboy is pulling his leg, the greenhorn laughs and buys the horse on the spot. He mounts up and gives the horse a kick. The horse does nothing. Greenhorn slaps the horse with the reins. Nothing. He hollers "Giddy up!". Nothing. Feeling foolish, he finally says "Thank God" and the horse takes off like a rocket. The greenhorn is enjoying the speed with which his new horse is covering the ground mile after mile, but up ahead, he can see the edge of a canyon. He sits back in his saddle and says "Whoa!". The horse gallops on. He frets a little and pulls frantically on the reins. The horse is still galloping full tilt toward the edge of the cliff. The greenhorn fears for his life and grabs hold of the saddle horn and prays "Lord, help me!" The horse stops dead, right at the edge of the 200 foot drop. Feeling tremendously relieved, he wipes his brow and says "Thank God".
I didn't write the joke, but I sure did enjoy telling it when I was a kid. The moral is, don't be a greenhorn. Be a leader. Take charge. Assure your horse that when he is with you there is nothing to be afraid of. It is necessary that the person in charge isn't afraid of blue buckets or pieces of paper. A person can not be afraid that her horse is going to be afraid of something. The horse senses that and becomes suspicious.
Should the person act as if there's no big deal, nothing scary here, no reason to get excited, then the horse will feed off of that calmness and confidence. That's not all though. As the leader, the person has to give some direction. When faced with dragons, the person needs to give her horse's feet something to do so they won't be dancing on her head. Sometimes, a horse just can't whoa, even if you pray. The instinct to run away is so strong that an argument will ensue should a person ask a horse to whoa when that dragon shows up. However, giving the horse a direction to go, especially back, gives him something to do rather than dance on his person's head.
Giving the horse something to do isn't punishing him. No one is telling the horse he is wrong for spooking. We are telling the horse, don't spook on top of me. Tell the horse to stay over there, to back up, or to piaffe (as I did with one habitually spooky horse) when he is scared. Do not praise him him or comfort him when he tries to use you as a staircase to escape. Just be cool. Be calm. Don't get excited. Be matter of fact. This is my space, horse. That is yours.
Additionally, don't let a horse look at the dragon. Get his attention. The leader needs to say "Pay attention to me, not that. Follow my directions and you will be okay." When I'm riding a horse and we come upon something scary, I want that horse to turn to me for guidance. If I let him fixate on the dragon (or cow or mailbox), he's not paying attention to me and I've lost my leadership. If I give him something to do, it redirects his mind. If I can get a horse to move it's feet, I can get it's mind back on track
Eventually, the horse will become less surprised by blue buckets and dragons and will hold his ground when faced with such monsters. It takes time and consistency a horse to develop trust in his person. The cool thing is that it does happen. Thank God.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Wrap It Up
This afternoon, I picked up Dundee's shipping boots. They were on the lawn. Like a good horseperson, I had washed them off immediately after using them and then set them out in the sun to dry. Like a slovenly horseperson, I left them out for a several days so that they got rained on and then blown all over the yard. Oops.
Using shipping boots is a fairly new concept for me so I am not quite used to the maintenance. Before this, I was a staunch shipping WRAPS user. Wraps go right into the washing machine after a use. The drying and re-rolling is still maintenance but it's maintenance that I am familiar with and know how to manage. The boots are, by far, easier and quicker to apply. One piece, a couple of Velcro straps and done! Shipping wraps start with bell boots, then a quilt - wrapped evenly and smoothly, in the right direction, snug but not tight, making sure to cover the top edge of the bell boot; then the wrap - even and smoothly applied with enough tension to keep the whole package secure, but not so much as to cause bandage bow (yes, I did that once & felt horribly guilty), making sure to finish with the Velcro closure at the top. A nicely done, completed shipping wrap should look like a brand new tube of toothpaste, not the tube of toothpaste that my 9 year old son has been using and looks like someone tried to strangle it round the middle.
The quilts have to puffy, yet firm. Thin, measly quilts are too hard to use and do not offer enough protection. The outer wrap has to have a little stretch but not too much. The test is whether the cloth gets narrower when you pull on it. Too much stretch can constrict and create pressure spots within a wrap. With so much that can wrong with shipping wraps, it's surprising that they can do any good at all.
The great thing about (correctly applied) shipping wraps is that not only do they protect against bumps and scrapes, but they also support the horse's leg. After a day of showing, or even just a long trip standing in the trailer, good shipping wraps can prevent swelling around the tendons and ligaments of the lower legs. I can attest to the protection factor. One of my horses ( http://ridinraffles.blogspot.com/2011/10/rest-of-story.html ) was my very own shipping wrap testing facility. Gretchen made several attempts to sever her limbs via horse trailer and while she did sustain injury, everything under the wraps was intact. Previously in this post, I made mention of making sure that the wrap covers the top of the bell boot. Gretchen once cut her leg, just bad enough to require three stitches, in the half inch of space between the bell boot and shipping quilt. I made darn sure to cover that half inch every other time after that.
Since Gretchen, I've had 3 other horses that all traveled quite nicely in the trailer but still, I used the wraps. Just because a horse travels well doesn't mean a thing if someone cuts you off in traffic or some fool rear-ends the trailer, or something worse (which we don't like to think about). Your horse may not be kamikaze like Gretchen, but that doesn't mean an accident won't happen.
However, after spying a set of really nice shipping boots - you know the ones, they look like Kevlar, come up over the knee and hock and all the way down over the hoof - in the consignment section of the tack shop for less than half the original price, I bought 'em. And I used them. And then I got lazy. The thought of taking fifteen minutes to wrap my horse when I could slap some boots on him in about three minutes, seemed foolish. I know the boots don't offer the same protection as a set of hearty wraps, but (here comes my justification) the wraps don't cover the knee and hock like the boots do. Those parts are valuable too, right? So I should take the opportunity when it's presented to protect the upper joints too, right? That means I can take the lazy route, right?
I do not like putting my horse in a trailer without something on his legs. Just like I don't ride without my helmet or drive without my seat belt. You just can't predict when an accident will happen. Some horses don't like having wraps on and they do the Ministry of Silly Walks when getting from the barn to the trailer. I know one horse who would practically turn himself inside out trying to get his shipping boots off while in the trailer. There are horses who will kick constantly in trying to shake loose a shipping wrap or boot. Those ones are the only ones who get a pass. If it's just a matter of him channeling John Cleese or Houdini, the wraps can stay on. If a horse is going to kick in the trailer then I will take the risk of a possible accident rather than deal with the definite damage to the trailer and my horse's legs. Most horses can learn to wear wraps and boots if you put them on and let him wear them while he's in the stall. He shouldn't wear them outside in the paddock, there's too much freedom of movement and the possibility of a wrap coming undone is too great.
It never pays to get lazy with horses. Efficiency is great, but cutting corners is not. Snap the throatlatch on the halter, use a leadline to take your horse to the stall, use the hoof pick, and use some shipping wraps. Practice doing them correctly before hand. It takes a couple of tries to get them right. As a comparative reference, I will send you some photos of slightly strangled toothpaste tubes.
Using shipping boots is a fairly new concept for me so I am not quite used to the maintenance. Before this, I was a staunch shipping WRAPS user. Wraps go right into the washing machine after a use. The drying and re-rolling is still maintenance but it's maintenance that I am familiar with and know how to manage. The boots are, by far, easier and quicker to apply. One piece, a couple of Velcro straps and done! Shipping wraps start with bell boots, then a quilt - wrapped evenly and smoothly, in the right direction, snug but not tight, making sure to cover the top edge of the bell boot; then the wrap - even and smoothly applied with enough tension to keep the whole package secure, but not so much as to cause bandage bow (yes, I did that once & felt horribly guilty), making sure to finish with the Velcro closure at the top. A nicely done, completed shipping wrap should look like a brand new tube of toothpaste, not the tube of toothpaste that my 9 year old son has been using and looks like someone tried to strangle it round the middle.
The quilts have to puffy, yet firm. Thin, measly quilts are too hard to use and do not offer enough protection. The outer wrap has to have a little stretch but not too much. The test is whether the cloth gets narrower when you pull on it. Too much stretch can constrict and create pressure spots within a wrap. With so much that can wrong with shipping wraps, it's surprising that they can do any good at all.
The great thing about (correctly applied) shipping wraps is that not only do they protect against bumps and scrapes, but they also support the horse's leg. After a day of showing, or even just a long trip standing in the trailer, good shipping wraps can prevent swelling around the tendons and ligaments of the lower legs. I can attest to the protection factor. One of my horses ( http://ridinraffles.blogspot.com/2011/10/rest-of-story.html ) was my very own shipping wrap testing facility. Gretchen made several attempts to sever her limbs via horse trailer and while she did sustain injury, everything under the wraps was intact. Previously in this post, I made mention of making sure that the wrap covers the top of the bell boot. Gretchen once cut her leg, just bad enough to require three stitches, in the half inch of space between the bell boot and shipping quilt. I made darn sure to cover that half inch every other time after that.
Since Gretchen, I've had 3 other horses that all traveled quite nicely in the trailer but still, I used the wraps. Just because a horse travels well doesn't mean a thing if someone cuts you off in traffic or some fool rear-ends the trailer, or something worse (which we don't like to think about). Your horse may not be kamikaze like Gretchen, but that doesn't mean an accident won't happen.
However, after spying a set of really nice shipping boots - you know the ones, they look like Kevlar, come up over the knee and hock and all the way down over the hoof - in the consignment section of the tack shop for less than half the original price, I bought 'em. And I used them. And then I got lazy. The thought of taking fifteen minutes to wrap my horse when I could slap some boots on him in about three minutes, seemed foolish. I know the boots don't offer the same protection as a set of hearty wraps, but (here comes my justification) the wraps don't cover the knee and hock like the boots do. Those parts are valuable too, right? So I should take the opportunity when it's presented to protect the upper joints too, right? That means I can take the lazy route, right?
I do not like putting my horse in a trailer without something on his legs. Just like I don't ride without my helmet or drive without my seat belt. You just can't predict when an accident will happen. Some horses don't like having wraps on and they do the Ministry of Silly Walks when getting from the barn to the trailer. I know one horse who would practically turn himself inside out trying to get his shipping boots off while in the trailer. There are horses who will kick constantly in trying to shake loose a shipping wrap or boot. Those ones are the only ones who get a pass. If it's just a matter of him channeling John Cleese or Houdini, the wraps can stay on. If a horse is going to kick in the trailer then I will take the risk of a possible accident rather than deal with the definite damage to the trailer and my horse's legs. Most horses can learn to wear wraps and boots if you put them on and let him wear them while he's in the stall. He shouldn't wear them outside in the paddock, there's too much freedom of movement and the possibility of a wrap coming undone is too great.
It never pays to get lazy with horses. Efficiency is great, but cutting corners is not. Snap the throatlatch on the halter, use a leadline to take your horse to the stall, use the hoof pick, and use some shipping wraps. Practice doing them correctly before hand. It takes a couple of tries to get them right. As a comparative reference, I will send you some photos of slightly strangled toothpaste tubes.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Physician Heal Thyself
At one point, while teaching a lesson today, I uttered (okay, I shouted) the following brilliant gem of wisdom:
"Put your legs on and ride!"
Out of context the sentence is baffling. At the moment, it was profound. The situation was such that during the lesson my student was having trouble turning her horse left on a circle. Oh sure, it sounds like it should be easy, but when 1,500 pounds of horse says he'd rather go right than go left, there's not a whole lot a rider can do about it. The horse was doing an excellent job of teaching his rider that should she want to go left, she ought to SEND him there rather than PULL him there. The horse (and who can blame him) did not want to be dragged around by his face. His method of pointing this out was to go around his circle as if there were strong magnets in the fence at the other end, and he was made of steel.
Given the instructions that she could not let go of her saddle pad strap while using her inside rein (to limit pulling), this rider was faced with how she was going to get the left turn. What she had forgotten in the heat of the moment, is that she had many other more influential aids that were at her disposal. What she was trying to do was like trying to win the NBA playoffs with all the best players benched. If I were a person that paid attention to such things I could have provided actual names of some "best players". My familiarity with basketball ended when Michael Jordan retired. The first time.
It is easy to get distracted by what the horse's head is doing. It is right there in front of you. Or at least it ought to be. If it's not, you need more help than I can provide here. Being motivated by our tactile sense, it is easy to use our hands to manipulate that which is right in front of us, but there is a better way. Let's say that someone wants you to move somewhere. The person in charge of moving you can either stand on the opposite side from where you need to go, and then push you there. Or, person in charge of moving you could grab hold of your lower jaw and haul you there. Given the two choices, I bet you'd take the gentle shove.
It does take time to teach a horse to move away from leg pressure and we use the inside rein pull to help the horse understand where to go. Eventually, the aids should be refined such that the horse is able to follow the rider's weight and leg aids and the reins used just to point the horse in the right direction. The horse in this lesson was entirely capable of following leg aids, should they be given. What was happening was that the rider was doing damage control rather than preventative riding. Instead of telling the horse where he should be going she stalled out in the middle of the road and the horse carried on without her. By the time she got back in the driver's seat, she was now stuck trying to change the horse's mind after he'd already made the decision to go the other way.
In telling her to "Put her legs on and ride!" I was reminding her that she needed to push that horse through the reins from her legs, not pull him or get caught up in his efforts to bulge out of the circle. Riding positively and riding forward will help you get to your goal much quicker and easier than flailing around after things have gone haywire. Keep the horse's energy moving forward rather than letting it go bursting out the side and trying to reclaim it. That is what is meant by "Put your legs on and ride!".
After struggling against the temptation to pull that left rein, my student got the horse around the circle to the left and then did some to the right and then came back to the left again. When she was riding, the horse went beautifully around his circles. He was perfectly happy going around those circles once he was asked to do them in a way that made sense to him. She looked like she was in charge of the situation ('cause she was) and like she and the horse were one unit instead of looking like a tin soldier Scotch-taped to a Slinky.
Shortly after that lesson, I saddled up my own horse. We circled around a bit but soon I started having trouble because Dundee was losing focus and balance every time we had to go past the White Barrel With Really Big Teeth And Claws. I struggled a bit and grumbled a bit and finally said, not even to myself but right out loud, "Put your legs on and ride!". Once I did - BANG! - went Dundee, jumping forward like the White Barrel With Really Big Teeth And Claws had just pinched his butt. The next time past the WBWRBTAC, Dundee tensed up but moved straighter. The third time, he powered through with confidence. Sometimes we need to take our own advice.
"Put your legs on and ride!"
Out of context the sentence is baffling. At the moment, it was profound. The situation was such that during the lesson my student was having trouble turning her horse left on a circle. Oh sure, it sounds like it should be easy, but when 1,500 pounds of horse says he'd rather go right than go left, there's not a whole lot a rider can do about it. The horse was doing an excellent job of teaching his rider that should she want to go left, she ought to SEND him there rather than PULL him there. The horse (and who can blame him) did not want to be dragged around by his face. His method of pointing this out was to go around his circle as if there were strong magnets in the fence at the other end, and he was made of steel.
Given the instructions that she could not let go of her saddle pad strap while using her inside rein (to limit pulling), this rider was faced with how she was going to get the left turn. What she had forgotten in the heat of the moment, is that she had many other more influential aids that were at her disposal. What she was trying to do was like trying to win the NBA playoffs with all the best players benched. If I were a person that paid attention to such things I could have provided actual names of some "best players". My familiarity with basketball ended when Michael Jordan retired. The first time.
It is easy to get distracted by what the horse's head is doing. It is right there in front of you. Or at least it ought to be. If it's not, you need more help than I can provide here. Being motivated by our tactile sense, it is easy to use our hands to manipulate that which is right in front of us, but there is a better way. Let's say that someone wants you to move somewhere. The person in charge of moving you can either stand on the opposite side from where you need to go, and then push you there. Or, person in charge of moving you could grab hold of your lower jaw and haul you there. Given the two choices, I bet you'd take the gentle shove.
It does take time to teach a horse to move away from leg pressure and we use the inside rein pull to help the horse understand where to go. Eventually, the aids should be refined such that the horse is able to follow the rider's weight and leg aids and the reins used just to point the horse in the right direction. The horse in this lesson was entirely capable of following leg aids, should they be given. What was happening was that the rider was doing damage control rather than preventative riding. Instead of telling the horse where he should be going she stalled out in the middle of the road and the horse carried on without her. By the time she got back in the driver's seat, she was now stuck trying to change the horse's mind after he'd already made the decision to go the other way.
In telling her to "Put her legs on and ride!" I was reminding her that she needed to push that horse through the reins from her legs, not pull him or get caught up in his efforts to bulge out of the circle. Riding positively and riding forward will help you get to your goal much quicker and easier than flailing around after things have gone haywire. Keep the horse's energy moving forward rather than letting it go bursting out the side and trying to reclaim it. That is what is meant by "Put your legs on and ride!".
After struggling against the temptation to pull that left rein, my student got the horse around the circle to the left and then did some to the right and then came back to the left again. When she was riding, the horse went beautifully around his circles. He was perfectly happy going around those circles once he was asked to do them in a way that made sense to him. She looked like she was in charge of the situation ('cause she was) and like she and the horse were one unit instead of looking like a tin soldier Scotch-taped to a Slinky.
Shortly after that lesson, I saddled up my own horse. We circled around a bit but soon I started having trouble because Dundee was losing focus and balance every time we had to go past the White Barrel With Really Big Teeth And Claws. I struggled a bit and grumbled a bit and finally said, not even to myself but right out loud, "Put your legs on and ride!". Once I did - BANG! - went Dundee, jumping forward like the White Barrel With Really Big Teeth And Claws had just pinched his butt. The next time past the WBWRBTAC, Dundee tensed up but moved straighter. The third time, he powered through with confidence. Sometimes we need to take our own advice.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Dusting Off my Dorkiness
Recently, in an attempt to watch the Super Bowl, I started playing with my Breyer Horses again. The football game was on, but it just couldn't hold my attention and I started re-organizing and cleaning up my model horse collection. They have been on my shelves but have gathered dust, and more than one of them had a body in one place and a leg in another.
As a youngster, I played more vigorously with the horses. They fought battles, raced, jumped, broke down the barn door, and in a few dramatic scenarios, were airlifted by my brother's r/c helicopter. Model horse legs were not meant for such abuse and they snapped with maddening regularity. My Dad tirelessly repaired them, first with glue, then with epoxies, then with drilling and pegs but each repaired model ended up back into the fray so repairs never lasted long. One poor horse even had a prosthetic leg after his original one was lost. His initial prosthetic was a marker cap stuck onto the stump of his leg. It worked perfectly, but looked ridiculous. An artistically inclined neighbor whittled a more realistic leg from a bit of wood which was then stained chestnut-ish color and taped onto the horse. The wooden leg was slightly more realistic looking than the marker cap, but the masking tape spoiled the effect.
Re-visiting that world, with the Superbowl blaring away in the background, I immersed myself into my list of model horses and their names, dusted the most filthy, did surgery (using a hot glue gun) on some and then nicely rearranged them all on their shelves. There were no races, battles or helicopters involved.
Playing with my Breyer horses was the reason I collected them, but naming my Breyer Horses was the real thrill. My first three had the unimaginative names of Prince, Lightning and Sugar. As my collection grew, I came to love the process of finding just the right name for each horse. Each horse's breed, color, age, sex and pose were considered. I tried out names until I came to the one that fit just right. Some Breyer horses are models of real live, storybook, or movie horses, which meant that they already had names. For some of those, I changed the names, but most "real" horses stayed real. Amongst them are; Sham, Abdullah, Touch of Class, Roemer, Shetan, Misty, John Henry and several Black Beauties. A lot of my horses have names that I got from non-equine tv shows, movies, songs or celebrities. Some have names inspired by the place or time (holidays or season) from which each horse was obtained. Others have names derived from people or horses in my life.
Willie is a blue roan Percheron model that I got at the Kentucky Horse Park. He is named after a horse that was at the barn where I first boarded Ivy. A light gray model Arab mare is named after a light gray real Arab mare that I trained, named Kann Gdanse (Can Dance). The model is Kann Gdanse Too. I have a little bay Quarter Horse mare that looks a lot like another horse, See Stormy, I worked with, so I named that model See Stormy Go. Autumn Fawn is a bright Palomino mare named after the real Fawny, a more subtle palomino. Fawny was a neighbor's horse that I could ride whenever I wanted. She was a darling mare and I had many adventures with her. Alabama Drifter (an Appaloosa) is named for a Standardbred that we had in our barn. He was called Bama, and while not exactly "darling" we also had many adventures with him. Impressive Chief is a name I blatantly plagiarized from a horse that a classmate had. I named my model Appaloosa horse after her real Appaloosa horse. Druska is another name I stole outright. A horse at my instructor's barn was named Druska Muska and I loved that horse. When I got a model that sort of looked like the real Druska, I named mine the same. Without the Muska, though. I thought the Muska part sounded funny so I left it off. My roommate in college had a National Show Horse mare named Driftwood Tishra. The mare was called Tish most of the time, but her pet name was Driftwooooooooood. I named a pair of model Arabs after her, only with less o's. They were Driftwood Seraphina and Driftwood Gabriella. There are two foxes in my collection. One is a bay Saddlebred mare called Springfield Fox (Foxy) named after a little bay mare that was a school horse at my college. The other is an Apppaloosa called X-Tra Super Fox who was named after a college friend's little Appaloosa, Sleepy Fox (who should have been called Super Fox). Last, but not least, although certainly littlest, is a model of a Hackney Pony that I named Whispering Pines' Tipperary, or Tippy. Tippy was one of the ponies that I worked with at my first Summer job. Tippy was sweet and adorable and had a great pony name. I had to re-use it.
People I know, and have known, may be honored to find out that I have a model horse in my collection named after them. Or maybe they will not be honored but instead will be embarrassed that they are friends with such a dork. In an effort to protect the identities of those involved, I will not name them personally, but will print the horses' names. If the people involved are flattered, they may feel free to stand up and wave, saying "Hey, that's me!" More likely, they will slink away quietly hoping that I know some other person by that name.
Me: Hey guess what, good friend! I named this pretty plastic horse after YOU!
GF: You did what?
Me: Yeah, cause I think you're so great and really special and everything so I did this cool thing.
GF: Cool?
Me: Isn't that great?!
GF: (crickets chirping)
Here is the list. Be flattered, or not.
Zaccariha
Jazzman Jackson
Justa Summer Squash
Oh Mandy
Roamer
Briggita
Wesley
Bonnie
Belinda
Andy's Birthday Girl
JJ Singasong
Kim's Poco Rey
Some of those names aren't much of a stretch. It's fairly obvious that I know people named Wesley, Bonnie and Belinda. The rest are like code names. Some of you reading this may recognize your name. Others, like the 9 year old son of a friend's brother-in-law, will not be reading this and thus will not know of their fame. Incidentally, I have never met said 9 year old. He was just born around the same time as my son and I thought his name was cool. A medium size boy that I have never actually met, is cooler than me. Just because of his name.
I could write more pages about the names I've chosen for my Breyer Horses but I will spare you. Next post, I swear, will be about training horses.
As a youngster, I played more vigorously with the horses. They fought battles, raced, jumped, broke down the barn door, and in a few dramatic scenarios, were airlifted by my brother's r/c helicopter. Model horse legs were not meant for such abuse and they snapped with maddening regularity. My Dad tirelessly repaired them, first with glue, then with epoxies, then with drilling and pegs but each repaired model ended up back into the fray so repairs never lasted long. One poor horse even had a prosthetic leg after his original one was lost. His initial prosthetic was a marker cap stuck onto the stump of his leg. It worked perfectly, but looked ridiculous. An artistically inclined neighbor whittled a more realistic leg from a bit of wood which was then stained chestnut-ish color and taped onto the horse. The wooden leg was slightly more realistic looking than the marker cap, but the masking tape spoiled the effect.
Re-visiting that world, with the Superbowl blaring away in the background, I immersed myself into my list of model horses and their names, dusted the most filthy, did surgery (using a hot glue gun) on some and then nicely rearranged them all on their shelves. There were no races, battles or helicopters involved.
Playing with my Breyer horses was the reason I collected them, but naming my Breyer Horses was the real thrill. My first three had the unimaginative names of Prince, Lightning and Sugar. As my collection grew, I came to love the process of finding just the right name for each horse. Each horse's breed, color, age, sex and pose were considered. I tried out names until I came to the one that fit just right. Some Breyer horses are models of real live, storybook, or movie horses, which meant that they already had names. For some of those, I changed the names, but most "real" horses stayed real. Amongst them are; Sham, Abdullah, Touch of Class, Roemer, Shetan, Misty, John Henry and several Black Beauties. A lot of my horses have names that I got from non-equine tv shows, movies, songs or celebrities. Some have names inspired by the place or time (holidays or season) from which each horse was obtained. Others have names derived from people or horses in my life.
Willie is a blue roan Percheron model that I got at the Kentucky Horse Park. He is named after a horse that was at the barn where I first boarded Ivy. A light gray model Arab mare is named after a light gray real Arab mare that I trained, named Kann Gdanse (Can Dance). The model is Kann Gdanse Too. I have a little bay Quarter Horse mare that looks a lot like another horse, See Stormy, I worked with, so I named that model See Stormy Go. Autumn Fawn is a bright Palomino mare named after the real Fawny, a more subtle palomino. Fawny was a neighbor's horse that I could ride whenever I wanted. She was a darling mare and I had many adventures with her. Alabama Drifter (an Appaloosa) is named for a Standardbred that we had in our barn. He was called Bama, and while not exactly "darling" we also had many adventures with him. Impressive Chief is a name I blatantly plagiarized from a horse that a classmate had. I named my model Appaloosa horse after her real Appaloosa horse. Druska is another name I stole outright. A horse at my instructor's barn was named Druska Muska and I loved that horse. When I got a model that sort of looked like the real Druska, I named mine the same. Without the Muska, though. I thought the Muska part sounded funny so I left it off. My roommate in college had a National Show Horse mare named Driftwood Tishra. The mare was called Tish most of the time, but her pet name was Driftwooooooooood. I named a pair of model Arabs after her, only with less o's. They were Driftwood Seraphina and Driftwood Gabriella. There are two foxes in my collection. One is a bay Saddlebred mare called Springfield Fox (Foxy) named after a little bay mare that was a school horse at my college. The other is an Apppaloosa called X-Tra Super Fox who was named after a college friend's little Appaloosa, Sleepy Fox (who should have been called Super Fox). Last, but not least, although certainly littlest, is a model of a Hackney Pony that I named Whispering Pines' Tipperary, or Tippy. Tippy was one of the ponies that I worked with at my first Summer job. Tippy was sweet and adorable and had a great pony name. I had to re-use it.
People I know, and have known, may be honored to find out that I have a model horse in my collection named after them. Or maybe they will not be honored but instead will be embarrassed that they are friends with such a dork. In an effort to protect the identities of those involved, I will not name them personally, but will print the horses' names. If the people involved are flattered, they may feel free to stand up and wave, saying "Hey, that's me!" More likely, they will slink away quietly hoping that I know some other person by that name.
Me: Hey guess what, good friend! I named this pretty plastic horse after YOU!
GF: You did what?
Me: Yeah, cause I think you're so great and really special and everything so I did this cool thing.
GF: Cool?
Me: Isn't that great?!
GF: (crickets chirping)
Here is the list. Be flattered, or not.
Zaccariha
Jazzman Jackson
Justa Summer Squash
Oh Mandy
Roamer
Briggita
Wesley
Bonnie
Belinda
Andy's Birthday Girl
JJ Singasong
Kim's Poco Rey
Some of those names aren't much of a stretch. It's fairly obvious that I know people named Wesley, Bonnie and Belinda. The rest are like code names. Some of you reading this may recognize your name. Others, like the 9 year old son of a friend's brother-in-law, will not be reading this and thus will not know of their fame. Incidentally, I have never met said 9 year old. He was just born around the same time as my son and I thought his name was cool. A medium size boy that I have never actually met, is cooler than me. Just because of his name.
I could write more pages about the names I've chosen for my Breyer Horses but I will spare you. Next post, I swear, will be about training horses.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
My Little Lamzydivy
My Dad's plan completely backfired. At the time, Mom had gotten a horse after more than a dozen years of non-horseownership. This one was a big Appaloosa gelding she named Chief. She tried to share him, but he was really her horse. Not too much later after getting Chief, she and Dad agreed that I could get a horse on trial. The local horse dealer, which provided most of the area Summer camps with their horses, needed places to house those camp horses over the Winter. The deal was, people could take a camp horse on lease from September to June. In June, the horse would return to the dealer and go back to camp. This was an ingenuous plan on the part of the horse dealer. Not only were they off the hook for caring for hundreds of horses over the Winter, but a lot of the time, the leasing family ended up buying the horse before the Spring after becoming attached to it. Suckers.
My Dad agreed to let me get a camp horse for the Winter, being very sure that having to take care of a horse when the weather was cold and snowy and windy and not very good for riding, as well as pay for all of its expenses, would be a quick cure to my Cerebral Equuscantagium. Hahaha! Dads can be so funny!
Off we went, my Mom and I, to look at horses (they were all still at the camps at this point) and I found just the horse I wanted. She was almost an exact replica of a neighbor's horse that I had been riding except that instead of palomino, this one was a liver chestnut. The camp horse was named Bailey and I already loved her. One other horse caught my eye, probably because she was bright white in a ring full of brownish horses.
This white horse was being ridden by a teeny-tiny girl wearing a not teeny-tiny enough helmet. As the horse cantered around the ring, TTG would, every few strides, drop her reins, readjust her helmet, pick up the reins and carry on. The white horse never broke stride or left the rail. Now, I can appreciate just how special it was that the white horse didn't take advantage of TTG's distraction. I just thought the TTG was funny. I did not want the white horse because Mom had told me about how hard it is to keep them clean. The nice, dark brown horse suited me fine.
On the day of retrieval of Bailey, we went to the camp to meet the horse trailer that was transporting her to the barn where we were boarding Chief. When we entered the barn, there on the cross ties, stood Bailey. But there was a bucket under her neck (gross part coming up - I will warn you when it gets here). Before we could get closer, the camp staff advanced on us and hastily explained that Bailey couldn't go with us because she had Strangles. The bucket under her neck (Here it comes!) was to collect the pus that was draining out of her abscessed lymph nodes.
"Take Ivy!", the teenaged camp staff chorused. "She's great, you'll love her!" Ivy was, as you probably have guessed, the white horse. I did not want her. But I did not want to complain in front of these older, horsier girls and so, grudgingly agreed to take Ivy.
Any one of the experienced horsepersons reading this will be horrified by the thought that I took any horse from a barn where there was a horse acutely afflicted with Strangles. It should never be done. Strangles is highly contagious. The fact that Ivy never came down with it and didn't pass it on to any of the other horses at our barn is just another eery indication that our pairing was meant to happen. Also, one should never take on a horse without trying it out first. Also, never dismiss a horse based solely on color. Also, even though TTG survived, always wear a helmet that fits when you go riding. That is all.
So Ivy came home with me. The first time I rode her was down the side of the road behind my Mom on Chief. Okay, one more... Also, I do not recommend that someone try a horse out by riding it down the side of the road. Now I'm done. Within the first few steps that little white horse took, I was smitten. I knew she was the one. I felt like I had been riding her my whole life.
Not only did Dad's plan of making me sick of taking care of a horse by letting me have one for the Winter fail, as the kids say, epically, it made my obsession worse. MY plan was, although I couldn't buy her before the Spring, to work all Summer and save every penny I could earn and buy Ivy at the end of the season when she was done with camp. At 14 years old, my job opportunities did not abound, but I babysat quite a lot and had no other temptations. Other than Breyer horses, but I could resist buying them knowing that Ivy was the alternative.
My determined little 14 year old self was pleasantly surprised however, when one afternoon, my parents called me downstairs and told me that I did not have to send Ivy back. As an early birthday gift, they were going to buy Ivy for me. BUT, they admonished as good parents, I would still have to work for all of her expenses and take care of her myself. If they had told me that in order to keep Ivy, I had to shave my head and stand on a streetcorner in a chicken suit playing "How Much Is That Doggy In The Window" on the kazoo, I would have been at the junction of Cottage and Main Streets, bald and feathered, faster than you can say Cerebral Equuscantagium.
Ivy was my horse until the end of her life. I had her for 15 years. To tell the story of all of those 15 years would fill dozens and dozens of pages, even if I used a really small font. Even though people told me I needed a taller horse (Ivy was 14.2, with her shoes on), I never once considered trading her in. She was perfect. The world never looked sweeter than when it was viewed through her little white ears. I've looked through hundreds of other sets of ears now, but I can still remember the sound of her hooves on a dirt road, the feel of her neck under her mane, the swing of her back when she trotted and the way that everything seemed right when I was riding her.
I will never say that I'm glad Bailey contracted Strangles, but I will say that I am forever grateful to those teenage girls that said, "Take Ivy! She's great, you'll love her!"
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Weather Or Not
Today was cold; bitter, windy cold, the kind of cold that freezes your eyelashes together. I did not go riding. I barely left the house. Even if I had wanted to go riding, the footing is terrible and my horse would have been quite unhappy. We've gone from mud to frozen, rutted mud to a shallow layer of frozen snow and ice on top of frozen, rutted mud.
My new horse and previous horse are vastly different yet have both been cursed with tender feet. I don't remember my first horse ever having any hoof issues. Ivy had hooves of titanium, I guess. Her feet did chip and crack a little but she never minced around the way that my current horse does. I rode Ivy on all kinds of footing, being completely oblivious to whether it would have any effect on her hooves. The exception was pavement. As much as possible, I kept her off pavement and if I had to ride on it, then only at a walk. Most of my riding was alongside the road with some trails and fields. We rode on the gravel, over the rocks, through water and galloped on dirt roads and through belly high grass. Very little of our riding was in a sand arena. My new horse and previous horse, need shoes to go riding IN the sand arena. Without them, they tiptoe around like they are trying to sneak up on someone.
Not only are my horses sissies, but I feel myself morphing into one as well. As a teenager, I went riding in all weather. For Winter rides, I often rode bareback to take advantage of my horse's body heat. Then it was layer upon layer of clothing until I resembled poor Randy from A Christmas Story ("I can't put my arms down!"). The assemblage went something like this: tights, jeans, sweatpants, socks, leg-warmers and Winter boots for the lower half and up above, t-shirt, turtleneck, sweater, vest, Winter jacket, scarf, gloves, mittens, hat and helmet. There were no fancy thermo-synthetic-polar-fleece anythings. There were no made-for Winter-riding boots, breeches or gloves like these kids have nowadays. The capper was when I went off to college and had regular riding lessons for which a uniform was required. That meant tall boots, breeches, a school sweater or jacket, helmet and gloves. In a feeble attempt to stave off the New England cold, we would buy the biggest wool socks would could find, put them on over our leather boots and then put rubber overshoes on over them. It didn't work.
I still ride in the Winter, often bareback, and with new-fangled weather appropriate riding gear, but it has to be at least 20 for me to get on a horse. Even then, I'll whine about it. It's funny though, how relative temperature can be. No matter what, 3 degrees Fahrenheit is dang cold. But when it's been 3 for a few days and then goes all the way up to 20, it can feel like Spring time. If it's been 75 degrees and dips to 4o our teeth start chattering and we fuss and carry on like the Ice Age just returned. But let the thermometer soar to 40, after temps in the teens, and we will dance around in our short sleeves like loons.
There are times when I have gone riding, under no duress or obligation, in the pouring rain, blistering heat, driving snow, pitch dark, wind, fog, and all manner of Mother Nature's manifestations. I'm glad I did. That doesn't mean I'm going to necessarily do it again, but I am glad for the experiences. Now I'm more cautious and considerate of my horse's comfort and well-being to not going riding in certain types of weather, or at least that makes a good excuse for being sissy.
If you are the type of rider that competes, there are going to be competitions held in less than ideal weather, so training in less than ideal weather only makes sense. The show must go on, and all that. If there is a danger to me or my horse, then I certainly will not risk my horse's or my own well-being to go riding, competition or not. Lightning is one of those circumstances. Dangerous footing would be another. Being older and wiser, I do feel as though extreme heat and cold classify. Some times, weather may not be conducive to a full out training session, but a modified one would be suitable. A walking ride in high temperatures or a short one in frigid temps. is certainly sensible.
No matter how much whining I may do about weather and often having to ride in disagreeable conditions, I am always glad, at the end of a ride, that I did it. The reward outweighs any discomfort, and the discomfort is usually forgotten as my horse and I start working together. However, I'm still going to be on the couch watching a movie when the temperature dips into the single digits, despite thermo-synthetic-polar-fleece anythings.
My new horse and previous horse are vastly different yet have both been cursed with tender feet. I don't remember my first horse ever having any hoof issues. Ivy had hooves of titanium, I guess. Her feet did chip and crack a little but she never minced around the way that my current horse does. I rode Ivy on all kinds of footing, being completely oblivious to whether it would have any effect on her hooves. The exception was pavement. As much as possible, I kept her off pavement and if I had to ride on it, then only at a walk. Most of my riding was alongside the road with some trails and fields. We rode on the gravel, over the rocks, through water and galloped on dirt roads and through belly high grass. Very little of our riding was in a sand arena. My new horse and previous horse, need shoes to go riding IN the sand arena. Without them, they tiptoe around like they are trying to sneak up on someone.
Not only are my horses sissies, but I feel myself morphing into one as well. As a teenager, I went riding in all weather. For Winter rides, I often rode bareback to take advantage of my horse's body heat. Then it was layer upon layer of clothing until I resembled poor Randy from A Christmas Story ("I can't put my arms down!"). The assemblage went something like this: tights, jeans, sweatpants, socks, leg-warmers and Winter boots for the lower half and up above, t-shirt, turtleneck, sweater, vest, Winter jacket, scarf, gloves, mittens, hat and helmet. There were no fancy thermo-synthetic-polar-fleece anythings. There were no made-for Winter-riding boots, breeches or gloves like these kids have nowadays. The capper was when I went off to college and had regular riding lessons for which a uniform was required. That meant tall boots, breeches, a school sweater or jacket, helmet and gloves. In a feeble attempt to stave off the New England cold, we would buy the biggest wool socks would could find, put them on over our leather boots and then put rubber overshoes on over them. It didn't work.
I still ride in the Winter, often bareback, and with new-fangled weather appropriate riding gear, but it has to be at least 20 for me to get on a horse. Even then, I'll whine about it. It's funny though, how relative temperature can be. No matter what, 3 degrees Fahrenheit is dang cold. But when it's been 3 for a few days and then goes all the way up to 20, it can feel like Spring time. If it's been 75 degrees and dips to 4o our teeth start chattering and we fuss and carry on like the Ice Age just returned. But let the thermometer soar to 40, after temps in the teens, and we will dance around in our short sleeves like loons.
There are times when I have gone riding, under no duress or obligation, in the pouring rain, blistering heat, driving snow, pitch dark, wind, fog, and all manner of Mother Nature's manifestations. I'm glad I did. That doesn't mean I'm going to necessarily do it again, but I am glad for the experiences. Now I'm more cautious and considerate of my horse's comfort and well-being to not going riding in certain types of weather, or at least that makes a good excuse for being sissy.
If you are the type of rider that competes, there are going to be competitions held in less than ideal weather, so training in less than ideal weather only makes sense. The show must go on, and all that. If there is a danger to me or my horse, then I certainly will not risk my horse's or my own well-being to go riding, competition or not. Lightning is one of those circumstances. Dangerous footing would be another. Being older and wiser, I do feel as though extreme heat and cold classify. Some times, weather may not be conducive to a full out training session, but a modified one would be suitable. A walking ride in high temperatures or a short one in frigid temps. is certainly sensible.
No matter how much whining I may do about weather and often having to ride in disagreeable conditions, I am always glad, at the end of a ride, that I did it. The reward outweighs any discomfort, and the discomfort is usually forgotten as my horse and I start working together. However, I'm still going to be on the couch watching a movie when the temperature dips into the single digits, despite thermo-synthetic-polar-fleece anythings.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Celebrate Good Times
In case you haven't noticed, it's been a while since I've written anything new. Well, it's been a while since I've written anything new here. This forum has been neglected while I've been carrying on an affair with the local newspaper. The editor of the "Outdoors" section has been graciously printing articles that I send him about horses and horse stuff and horse activities. Which is wonderful, of course, but that means that I now have to come up with more interesting topics and find interesting ways of writing about them. Sometimes it's a stretch to meet the demands of both this blog and the newspaper. It's always a stretch to come up with a topic that is going to be entertaining for both horse people and normal people for the newspaper, so getting that done usually takes up all of my writing time. Not to mention dancing showcases, Christmas gifting, Christmas parties, Mom stuff, the University job and the farm.... writing is kind of on the bottom of the list sometimes. Now, that holiday stuff is mostly out of the way and the dancing showcase is done, I have some time to devote to writing again. Except that I have a vacation coming up.
It's been about 10 years since I've taken vacation time longer than a weekend. My Mom, my son and I are all going to Disneyworld thanks to sponsorship from both my parents. When I went to DW as a kid, I was more thrilled with seeing the trolley horses than Mickey Mouse. I bought Breyer horses instead of mouse ears. One of the most memorable rides I went on was a trail ride at the DW ranch. I rode a buckskin mare named Little Gal and my Mom rode a chestnut gelding named Rooster. Clearly, I had some kind of a disease. Cerebral Equuscontagium - horses on the brain.
The DW ride that I frequented the most was the Carousel. Each time, I rode a different horse and gave it a name. Each of those horses became instantly real and they breathed and snorted and galloped and snorted and tossed their manes and snorted. I was a master at imitating a horse snort so all of my imaginary horses did a lot of snorting.
One symptom of CE is that the afflicted child has hallucinations that her bicycle, tire swing, and herself are horses. My first bicycle was a blue bike that was really a black pony named Thunderbeast. As I grew taller, I graduated to a bigger red bike that was a chestnut Thoroughbred named Fire Stalker. When I didn't have my bike around, I had imaginary horses. The first was a shaggy chestnut pony named Max. He came with me to Summer camp and saved me from homesickness. I added a Clydesdale mare named Celebration to my daydreamed herd. She was shy and flighty unlike good old reliable Max. Someone with some psychology training could parallel the creation of Celebration with my transition from the security of my childhood (Max) to adolescence (Celebration), with which I wasn't as comfortable. However, there is no explanation for naming a pony/bike Thunderbeast.
There is no cure for CE, but for some, the symptoms regress and are controlled with normal activities. For others, we continue to ride our way through life, living out our childhood imagination with real ponies, real horses and real snorts.
It's been about 10 years since I've taken vacation time longer than a weekend. My Mom, my son and I are all going to Disneyworld thanks to sponsorship from both my parents. When I went to DW as a kid, I was more thrilled with seeing the trolley horses than Mickey Mouse. I bought Breyer horses instead of mouse ears. One of the most memorable rides I went on was a trail ride at the DW ranch. I rode a buckskin mare named Little Gal and my Mom rode a chestnut gelding named Rooster. Clearly, I had some kind of a disease. Cerebral Equuscontagium - horses on the brain.
The DW ride that I frequented the most was the Carousel. Each time, I rode a different horse and gave it a name. Each of those horses became instantly real and they breathed and snorted and galloped and snorted and tossed their manes and snorted. I was a master at imitating a horse snort so all of my imaginary horses did a lot of snorting.
One symptom of CE is that the afflicted child has hallucinations that her bicycle, tire swing, and herself are horses. My first bicycle was a blue bike that was really a black pony named Thunderbeast. As I grew taller, I graduated to a bigger red bike that was a chestnut Thoroughbred named Fire Stalker. When I didn't have my bike around, I had imaginary horses. The first was a shaggy chestnut pony named Max. He came with me to Summer camp and saved me from homesickness. I added a Clydesdale mare named Celebration to my daydreamed herd. She was shy and flighty unlike good old reliable Max. Someone with some psychology training could parallel the creation of Celebration with my transition from the security of my childhood (Max) to adolescence (Celebration), with which I wasn't as comfortable. However, there is no explanation for naming a pony/bike Thunderbeast.
There is no cure for CE, but for some, the symptoms regress and are controlled with normal activities. For others, we continue to ride our way through life, living out our childhood imagination with real ponies, real horses and real snorts.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Rest Of The Story
As promised, from long ago, here is the rest of Gretchen’s story. The story is not all mushy and sweet, as some stories are. Gretchen was the bane of my existence for the entire time I had her. However, she was directly responsible for one of the major break-throughs I had as a horse trainer. Gretchen taught me that some horses just are not going to change. To ask those horses to change, or to make it a mission to change those horses is futile. From Gretchen I learned that you can not train away a horse’s personality. Sometimes, the trainer is the one that has to adapt.
Once I gave in to Gretchen and let her live outside, stopped taking her places in the horse trailer and got used to having to periodically change her feed because she didn’t like it anymore, she became a lot easier to live with. She was still horrible. But she had her moments. She was very sweet when getting her ears rubbed or her face brushed. She’d bite and kick when you groomed any other part of her body though. She loved to go riding, but she hated being caught, getting groomed, having her saddle put on (she did like her bridle) and having the rider get on, but once the rider was up, she was quite happy and willing. If one could survive the process of getting ready, she was nice to ride.
Gretchen was a perfect longe lesson horse. She was consistent and obedient on the longe line so that I could use her for students when they needed position work. She became a good horse to learn cantering on because she would make a smooth transition. As she got older, her canter got weirder with a sort of corkscrew action going on, but she was good about cantering and staying in the canter and staying on the rail. She loved to do lateral work and was great for teaching leg-yield to beginners. She had a fantastic extended trot and loved to do it so she was good for teaching students what a real extended trot felt like.
Gretchen was actually very good at horse shows, it was just the trailering that was a nightmare. She did some very nice Dressage tests although if you were not paying attention, she’d turn around and leave when you made your centerline halt.
Her next to last trailer ride was on the way to a horse show with her best buddy, Pooh Bear. I thought that this would be the one trailer ride that she might enjoy because she had Pooh along with her. She was fairly good until we got within 15 minutes of the showground. Then, she decided she was going to kill Pooh Bear. When the trailer started lurching around with screaming and banging issuing forth, I pulled over immediately and promptly removed her from it. In her efforts to make mincemeat of Pooh, she had lacerated an artery in her leg and was spraying blood like a fountain from just above her shipping wraps. I called for someone to come and get Pooh so he could get to the show (there were 3 students there waiting for the horses to arrive) and called my husband (at the time) to come and get Gretchen and take her to the vet. There was nothing I could do with her leg as each time I even tried to look at it, she went into a screaming rage and tried to kick my head off. My assistant and I could only stand and watch her, tied to the outside of the trailer, spraying blood on all the shrubbery near-by and occasionally making threats to kill everybody. I had a tranquilizer that the vet recommended I give her, but it only seemed to agitate her more. After Pooh left and husband arrived, we put Gretchen back in the trailer and he quickly drove away with her. His instructions were to not stop for anything and I’m sure it was a harrowing hour long drive. As I watched the trailer pull away,swaying with each mighty kick she gave and listening to her bellowing inside, I was relieved that I wasn’t the one making it.
She got to the vet and was stitched up in numerous places and x-rayed for other damage. Even with quilted shipping wraps and bell boots, she had many lacerations and had even fractured a splint bone. I can’t even imagine what damage she would have done without the wraps on. After she recovered from her anaesthesia, I was then faced with the problem of getting her home again. Thankfully, the vet loaned me the use of his 4 horse stock trailer. Gretchen was crosstied in the middle of it and tranquilized enough to make her drowsy, but not so much that she couldn’t keep her feet and I took her home. That was the most peaceful trailer ride I ever had with the old Sasquatch. It was also the last.
Some may say that there could have been a way to trailer her without so much distress; a different type of trailer, or having her stand diagonally, or rear-facing, maybe. The truth is, it just wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the headache nor the financial distress of trailer repairs and vet bills, to keep experimenting. So Gretchen was grounded. Everybody was happier.
Gretchen was used in horse camp and a lot of lessons. She was a good horse for teaching kids and adults to be careful. If you were careless, she’d bite or kick. You had to be on your guard all the time. If you paid attention, you were okay, but let your mind wander for a second or get too complacent and she’d give you a swift reminder. She was also a great one for teaching someone to stand up for herself. If you backed down from Gretchen’s threats, she only got worse; the way a school bully preys on the weak and defenseless. If you gave as much of a threat right back at her, she’d respect you and settle down. If you coddled her or flinched, her power increased ten-fold and she became the wicked step-mother of all the most hideous fairy-tales.
Off the subject for the moment, but why was the step-mother always the wicked one in those stories? There were no wicked aunties or cousins, no evil father-in-laws or great-uncles. The step-mother got a bum rap.
I could write volumes about Gretchen’s exploits here on the farm. There was the time she trapped a student behind a tree. There was the time she tried to kill Rocket in the horse trailer, a half mile from home, and got hung up on the divider in the process so that I had to push her off of it. There was the time she ran away with a little girl in the field (all the school horses ran away that day) and the poor student ended up falling off Gretchen and onto a rock wall. For each of those times, there were more moments of her giving students a good ride in a lesson. For all of her quirks and disasters, I was fond of the cantankerous old mare.
She finally passed away at the age of 29 and she died the way she lived: on her own terms and making my life difficult. She passed away one evening after eating her dinner normally and giving no indication that it was her last meal. It is true that she was not in great health. She had Cushing’s, she was losing weight, her appetite wasn’t good, her teeth and eyesight were in poor condition and she was relatively feeble. She was discovered in the morning, dead in her paddock, with no signs of trauma or distress. It must have been a heart attack or aneurysm that took her quickly. I had a busy day planned with many important appointments and places to be that day, but it all had to be canceled so that I could arrange to have her buried.
Even after all of the times I cursed her, and all the times she hurt herself, I still grieved her passing. I accepted her for who she was and kept her until the end.
Once I gave in to Gretchen and let her live outside, stopped taking her places in the horse trailer and got used to having to periodically change her feed because she didn’t like it anymore, she became a lot easier to live with. She was still horrible. But she had her moments. She was very sweet when getting her ears rubbed or her face brushed. She’d bite and kick when you groomed any other part of her body though. She loved to go riding, but she hated being caught, getting groomed, having her saddle put on (she did like her bridle) and having the rider get on, but once the rider was up, she was quite happy and willing. If one could survive the process of getting ready, she was nice to ride.
Gretchen was a perfect longe lesson horse. She was consistent and obedient on the longe line so that I could use her for students when they needed position work. She became a good horse to learn cantering on because she would make a smooth transition. As she got older, her canter got weirder with a sort of corkscrew action going on, but she was good about cantering and staying in the canter and staying on the rail. She loved to do lateral work and was great for teaching leg-yield to beginners. She had a fantastic extended trot and loved to do it so she was good for teaching students what a real extended trot felt like.
Gretchen was actually very good at horse shows, it was just the trailering that was a nightmare. She did some very nice Dressage tests although if you were not paying attention, she’d turn around and leave when you made your centerline halt.
Her next to last trailer ride was on the way to a horse show with her best buddy, Pooh Bear. I thought that this would be the one trailer ride that she might enjoy because she had Pooh along with her. She was fairly good until we got within 15 minutes of the showground. Then, she decided she was going to kill Pooh Bear. When the trailer started lurching around with screaming and banging issuing forth, I pulled over immediately and promptly removed her from it. In her efforts to make mincemeat of Pooh, she had lacerated an artery in her leg and was spraying blood like a fountain from just above her shipping wraps. I called for someone to come and get Pooh so he could get to the show (there were 3 students there waiting for the horses to arrive) and called my husband (at the time) to come and get Gretchen and take her to the vet. There was nothing I could do with her leg as each time I even tried to look at it, she went into a screaming rage and tried to kick my head off. My assistant and I could only stand and watch her, tied to the outside of the trailer, spraying blood on all the shrubbery near-by and occasionally making threats to kill everybody. I had a tranquilizer that the vet recommended I give her, but it only seemed to agitate her more. After Pooh left and husband arrived, we put Gretchen back in the trailer and he quickly drove away with her. His instructions were to not stop for anything and I’m sure it was a harrowing hour long drive. As I watched the trailer pull away,swaying with each mighty kick she gave and listening to her bellowing inside, I was relieved that I wasn’t the one making it.
She got to the vet and was stitched up in numerous places and x-rayed for other damage. Even with quilted shipping wraps and bell boots, she had many lacerations and had even fractured a splint bone. I can’t even imagine what damage she would have done without the wraps on. After she recovered from her anaesthesia, I was then faced with the problem of getting her home again. Thankfully, the vet loaned me the use of his 4 horse stock trailer. Gretchen was crosstied in the middle of it and tranquilized enough to make her drowsy, but not so much that she couldn’t keep her feet and I took her home. That was the most peaceful trailer ride I ever had with the old Sasquatch. It was also the last.
Some may say that there could have been a way to trailer her without so much distress; a different type of trailer, or having her stand diagonally, or rear-facing, maybe. The truth is, it just wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the headache nor the financial distress of trailer repairs and vet bills, to keep experimenting. So Gretchen was grounded. Everybody was happier.
Gretchen was used in horse camp and a lot of lessons. She was a good horse for teaching kids and adults to be careful. If you were careless, she’d bite or kick. You had to be on your guard all the time. If you paid attention, you were okay, but let your mind wander for a second or get too complacent and she’d give you a swift reminder. She was also a great one for teaching someone to stand up for herself. If you backed down from Gretchen’s threats, she only got worse; the way a school bully preys on the weak and defenseless. If you gave as much of a threat right back at her, she’d respect you and settle down. If you coddled her or flinched, her power increased ten-fold and she became the wicked step-mother of all the most hideous fairy-tales.
Off the subject for the moment, but why was the step-mother always the wicked one in those stories? There were no wicked aunties or cousins, no evil father-in-laws or great-uncles. The step-mother got a bum rap.
I could write volumes about Gretchen’s exploits here on the farm. There was the time she trapped a student behind a tree. There was the time she tried to kill Rocket in the horse trailer, a half mile from home, and got hung up on the divider in the process so that I had to push her off of it. There was the time she ran away with a little girl in the field (all the school horses ran away that day) and the poor student ended up falling off Gretchen and onto a rock wall. For each of those times, there were more moments of her giving students a good ride in a lesson. For all of her quirks and disasters, I was fond of the cantankerous old mare.
She finally passed away at the age of 29 and she died the way she lived: on her own terms and making my life difficult. She passed away one evening after eating her dinner normally and giving no indication that it was her last meal. It is true that she was not in great health. She had Cushing’s, she was losing weight, her appetite wasn’t good, her teeth and eyesight were in poor condition and she was relatively feeble. She was discovered in the morning, dead in her paddock, with no signs of trauma or distress. It must have been a heart attack or aneurysm that took her quickly. I had a busy day planned with many important appointments and places to be that day, but it all had to be canceled so that I could arrange to have her buried.
Even after all of the times I cursed her, and all the times she hurt herself, I still grieved her passing. I accepted her for who she was and kept her until the end.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Doing More Than Riding
Here's another post that may get me in trouble. And when I say "may" I mean "will". It is not my intent to offend anyone, but someone, I'm sure, will take this the wrong way. Here goes nothing... Hold on just a minute, why do we say "here goes nothing"? What does that even mean? English is a weird language. Here goes the whole thing...
My particular favorite equestrian sport or discipline, is Dressage. There are people who will snort with defiance at the mere mention of the word. Others scoff at how "boring" it is. Some will lambaste Dressage aficionados for their participation. Dressage isn't for everyone, which is fine. Good riding and good horses are a pleasure to watch no matter their classification. The equine world is vast and varied and that is what makes it so interesting and entertaining. However, Dressage appeals to me personally, in a lot of ways.
I have never been the type of rider that was satisfied with just riding for riding's sake. Even as a young girl, riding my pony, Ivy, around town, I yearned to do something with her beyond just going for a ride. My Mom used to do her paper route with her horse. Oh how I wished I had a paper route! I wanted to ride my horse to the store, do a little shopping and ride home. I wanted to ride my horse to school. I wanted a job for my horse and I to do. It's not that I didn't enjoy riding, because I certainly did. Ivy was a wonderful little horse and we canvassed every inch of the neighborhood, exploring, trying out new trails, riding down the street, checking out the beaches, and seeing just how far we could get. She was game and I was looking for adventure. Yet, as time went by I found myself not just wanting to go for a ride, but wanting to work on something. I guess that's why I became a horse trainer and not just a horse rider.
When I started riding in local horse shows, that hunt for something more was satiated slightly. With competition came goals to meet. We did Western and English classes, jumping, games, equitation, trail, costume... everything that was offered. There was still something missing.
It wasn't until I truly started to understand Dressage that I became interested in pursuing it. Dressage is much more than just following a pattern. It's not even until relatively recently that I have come to appreciate Dressage thoroughly. For those that don't like it or have negative things to say, I have to point out that not all Dressage is done correctly. As in any equestrian event, there are people who take things too far, or in the wrong direction and it spoils the perception of the sport. And yes, I will admit that watching Dressage tests at a show, especially at the lower levels, can have about as much thrill as watching fingernails grow.
The appeal, for me, is in moving up the levels, advancing the horse's fitness and suppleness, and doing more than walk, trot and canter around the ring. I'd rather watch Dressage tests all day than watch a Western pleasure class. It's like watching the equine version of the Stepford Wives. I realize I am making a generalization here, because there are some really good Western pleasure horses. It just doesn't appeal to me. It would bore me to the point of having to bring a good book with me to read while I rode. The top Western pleasure horses all look like drones. They are beautiful animals but look like they've had lobotomies and are wearing concrete shoes. Please refrain from snacking me because I said that. It just isn't in my genetic material to be satisfied with riding a horse around and around and around going as slow as possible.
I think that with competition, the original design of the sport is lost. A Western pleasure horse is supposed to be a horse that you could comfortably ride all day long. With the modern Wp horses, it would take you all day to ride anywhere. Instead of showing horses that are comfortable to ride, they have made them slow enough that you could build a house of cards on top. Relaxation has been replaced with unresponsiveness. Instead of a horse that carries his head level with his body, the horses look like they can hardly carry their heads at all. It's not just in Wp that the competition has trumped the purpose.
Modern, competitive Dressage horses have undergone an evolution as well. The horses getting the high scores today are the ones showing exaggerated gaits. The gaits have become more important than the harmony and calmness that once was Dressage. Mistakes in tests, disobedience, even leaving out entire parts, is forgiven if the horse has spectacular gaits. It should not be so. But so it is.
Look at what has happened to the Tennessee Walking Horse. Here was a horse with a naturally smooth gait that could be ridden over uneven terrain and go great distances for many hours and the rider wouldn't feel like a tossed salad. Now, the gait has been outlandishly exaggerated through often cruel and inhumane methods to the point that it looks bizarre. Watching a "big lick" TWH makes me cringe. The horses don't look like horses anymore. They've become a kind of spastic kangaroo.
I do compete but not at the risk of my horse. If he needs a harsh bit, a tie-down, several inches of weighted pads on his feet, having his chin tucked down between his front legs, rowel spurs or anything else that causes him pain, then I'm not going to go to the show. I also like to go to shows where more is offered than just walk, trot, canter around the ring. That's why Road Hack is my favorite class, I get to WTC but also extend the trot and hand gallop. Once, I even got to ride in a Show Hack class which had collected walk, walk, walk on long reins, trot, collected trot, extended trot, canter, collected canter, extended canter, hand gallop, halt and back up. I was like a duck in water for that one.
My sport isn't perfect. There is a lot of undesirable stuff that happens through ignorance or pursuit of prizes. The root of Dressage, training a horse to be responsive, supple, well balanced and happy, is what I find intoxicating. I like my horses, eager, yet controllable; comfortable to ride, yet with expression to their gaits; calm but not dull, and well-balanced, yet maneuverable.
I'm sure someone reading this will be put out by something I have written ("Hey!! I'm a Western pleasure rider and I am definitely more interesting than fingernails!") but this is my blog, with my opinions and thoughts. I haven't meant to pick on anyone, but only to point out that some of our riding has gotten out of touch with its original intent, just like I got out of touch with the original point of this post.
My particular favorite equestrian sport or discipline, is Dressage. There are people who will snort with defiance at the mere mention of the word. Others scoff at how "boring" it is. Some will lambaste Dressage aficionados for their participation. Dressage isn't for everyone, which is fine. Good riding and good horses are a pleasure to watch no matter their classification. The equine world is vast and varied and that is what makes it so interesting and entertaining. However, Dressage appeals to me personally, in a lot of ways.
I have never been the type of rider that was satisfied with just riding for riding's sake. Even as a young girl, riding my pony, Ivy, around town, I yearned to do something with her beyond just going for a ride. My Mom used to do her paper route with her horse. Oh how I wished I had a paper route! I wanted to ride my horse to the store, do a little shopping and ride home. I wanted to ride my horse to school. I wanted a job for my horse and I to do. It's not that I didn't enjoy riding, because I certainly did. Ivy was a wonderful little horse and we canvassed every inch of the neighborhood, exploring, trying out new trails, riding down the street, checking out the beaches, and seeing just how far we could get. She was game and I was looking for adventure. Yet, as time went by I found myself not just wanting to go for a ride, but wanting to work on something. I guess that's why I became a horse trainer and not just a horse rider.
When I started riding in local horse shows, that hunt for something more was satiated slightly. With competition came goals to meet. We did Western and English classes, jumping, games, equitation, trail, costume... everything that was offered. There was still something missing.
It wasn't until I truly started to understand Dressage that I became interested in pursuing it. Dressage is much more than just following a pattern. It's not even until relatively recently that I have come to appreciate Dressage thoroughly. For those that don't like it or have negative things to say, I have to point out that not all Dressage is done correctly. As in any equestrian event, there are people who take things too far, or in the wrong direction and it spoils the perception of the sport. And yes, I will admit that watching Dressage tests at a show, especially at the lower levels, can have about as much thrill as watching fingernails grow.
The appeal, for me, is in moving up the levels, advancing the horse's fitness and suppleness, and doing more than walk, trot and canter around the ring. I'd rather watch Dressage tests all day than watch a Western pleasure class. It's like watching the equine version of the Stepford Wives. I realize I am making a generalization here, because there are some really good Western pleasure horses. It just doesn't appeal to me. It would bore me to the point of having to bring a good book with me to read while I rode. The top Western pleasure horses all look like drones. They are beautiful animals but look like they've had lobotomies and are wearing concrete shoes. Please refrain from snacking me because I said that. It just isn't in my genetic material to be satisfied with riding a horse around and around and around going as slow as possible.
I think that with competition, the original design of the sport is lost. A Western pleasure horse is supposed to be a horse that you could comfortably ride all day long. With the modern Wp horses, it would take you all day to ride anywhere. Instead of showing horses that are comfortable to ride, they have made them slow enough that you could build a house of cards on top. Relaxation has been replaced with unresponsiveness. Instead of a horse that carries his head level with his body, the horses look like they can hardly carry their heads at all. It's not just in Wp that the competition has trumped the purpose.
Modern, competitive Dressage horses have undergone an evolution as well. The horses getting the high scores today are the ones showing exaggerated gaits. The gaits have become more important than the harmony and calmness that once was Dressage. Mistakes in tests, disobedience, even leaving out entire parts, is forgiven if the horse has spectacular gaits. It should not be so. But so it is.
Look at what has happened to the Tennessee Walking Horse. Here was a horse with a naturally smooth gait that could be ridden over uneven terrain and go great distances for many hours and the rider wouldn't feel like a tossed salad. Now, the gait has been outlandishly exaggerated through often cruel and inhumane methods to the point that it looks bizarre. Watching a "big lick" TWH makes me cringe. The horses don't look like horses anymore. They've become a kind of spastic kangaroo.
I do compete but not at the risk of my horse. If he needs a harsh bit, a tie-down, several inches of weighted pads on his feet, having his chin tucked down between his front legs, rowel spurs or anything else that causes him pain, then I'm not going to go to the show. I also like to go to shows where more is offered than just walk, trot, canter around the ring. That's why Road Hack is my favorite class, I get to WTC but also extend the trot and hand gallop. Once, I even got to ride in a Show Hack class which had collected walk, walk, walk on long reins, trot, collected trot, extended trot, canter, collected canter, extended canter, hand gallop, halt and back up. I was like a duck in water for that one.
My sport isn't perfect. There is a lot of undesirable stuff that happens through ignorance or pursuit of prizes. The root of Dressage, training a horse to be responsive, supple, well balanced and happy, is what I find intoxicating. I like my horses, eager, yet controllable; comfortable to ride, yet with expression to their gaits; calm but not dull, and well-balanced, yet maneuverable.
I'm sure someone reading this will be put out by something I have written ("Hey!! I'm a Western pleasure rider and I am definitely more interesting than fingernails!") but this is my blog, with my opinions and thoughts. I haven't meant to pick on anyone, but only to point out that some of our riding has gotten out of touch with its original intent, just like I got out of touch with the original point of this post.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
ABC's Of Training
I love training horses. Not every second of it, but when a horse learns to balance itself and a rider, and its natural beauty is allowed to show, that part is intoxicating. The process of getting there isn't beautiful. It can be downright ugly. Kind of like when I am trying to learn telemarks in my Viennese Waltz. There is tripping, tipping over, cringing, dizziness and all manner of ugliness going on. Then, I get it right and it is fluid and graceful and easy. It should be the same for the horse.
Some training methods are barbaric and demeaning to the horse. Horses have an amazing ability to adapt and learn and the path to getting there should not be riddled with brutality. I can't make a horse do anything, but I can make it possible for him to do something. It is my responsibility to see that the horse is allowed to do things correctly and that I have set him up for doing the right thing. It's never easy. There is a certain type of person that can ride green horses. That person is stubborn.
In order to work through issues of unbalance or resistance when training a horse, I have to be prepared to ride it out. The only way to get from point A to point C is through point B. Point B is like one of those passageways in an Indiana Jones movie with booby traps, pointed sticks, icky bugs and snakes. Knowing that there is treasure on the other side (or that getting to the other side will save my life) creates great determination on my part to stick with it. You can not just go magically from A to C. You just have to ride through.
Working with Nova these past 2 months has made me feel very much like Indiana Jones. So much so, that I may have to get myself a fedora. At first, she had issues with her mouth that made her hysterical whenever any pressure was applied to the bit. After a visit from the equine dentist and a lot of experimenting with bits, she became more comfortable. She still does weird things with her tongue sometimes, but she is very rideable and improving all the time. The sticking point was the canter.
In the canter she would brace her neck against the reins and bit so much that she couldn't turn and couldn't keep her balance. Her naturally arched neck became like a steel rod and the more she pulled on her reins the more she freaked out about the pressure of the bit until she couldn't stand it anymore and would stop and thrash. This part was all witnessed on the longe line because there was no way I was getting on her back when she had an issue like that. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid.
Gradually, she gave brief glimpses of understanding that if she relaxed her neck, that everything worked out better. Once I saw that glimmer of hope, I started riding her in the canter. There were still steering issues and trouble with staying upright on turns but the only way for her to learn was to keep plugging away at it. We did little bits of cantering, then back to the trot to re-supple and reaffirm turning. Then tried a little more canter asking for just a hint of give in her iron like neck and jaw. Then back to the walk to relax and work on bending. There started to be moments in the canter when she would let go for a second, or we would turn a corner and I didn't grit my teeth and hold my breathe waiting for her to tip over completely.
Yesterday, Nova cantered circles in both directions with softness in her poll, jaw and neck. She was using her topline to balance instead of hauling herself around by her front legs and the underside of her neck. It was a good canter. Not a medal-winning canter, but a huge milestone for her. Once she trusted me enough to do what I was asking her to do, she actually found it much easier and more comfortable. There was no way to force her to that conclusion. If I had tried to force her she would have continued to battle and eventually hurt herself. Or me.
There were no tie-downs involved. No crank nosebands. I did use side reins, but ones with rubber "donuts" so that there was give to them. I worked with what Nova needed to do and did not ask her to fit into a training schedule that may have worked for other horses. It was rough going for a while and I spent as many hours thinking about what to do with her as actually doing it. When I first watched her cantering on the longe line, I thought, as I do with a lot of horses that come in with unusual issues, "How the heck am I going to fix that? This horse can't canter (stand still, jump, stop, relax....) at all." Then, I am always amazed at what a horse can do with a little guidance, time and patience.
I look at every horse and see its potential. Not every horse is going to go to the Olympics, or even a horse show at all, but in every horse is the potential to be elegant and cooperative. There are horses who, for whatever legitimate physical reason, will never be comfortable with a rider and those horses can not be trained and should not be trained to ride. The majority will be lovely willing partners with the right tack, good health care, the right feed, and training. Try to fix anything with aggression or force and you'll end up like one of those guys at the bottom of the pit impaled on a sharpened stick. No point C for you.
Some training methods are barbaric and demeaning to the horse. Horses have an amazing ability to adapt and learn and the path to getting there should not be riddled with brutality. I can't make a horse do anything, but I can make it possible for him to do something. It is my responsibility to see that the horse is allowed to do things correctly and that I have set him up for doing the right thing. It's never easy. There is a certain type of person that can ride green horses. That person is stubborn.
In order to work through issues of unbalance or resistance when training a horse, I have to be prepared to ride it out. The only way to get from point A to point C is through point B. Point B is like one of those passageways in an Indiana Jones movie with booby traps, pointed sticks, icky bugs and snakes. Knowing that there is treasure on the other side (or that getting to the other side will save my life) creates great determination on my part to stick with it. You can not just go magically from A to C. You just have to ride through.
Working with Nova these past 2 months has made me feel very much like Indiana Jones. So much so, that I may have to get myself a fedora. At first, she had issues with her mouth that made her hysterical whenever any pressure was applied to the bit. After a visit from the equine dentist and a lot of experimenting with bits, she became more comfortable. She still does weird things with her tongue sometimes, but she is very rideable and improving all the time. The sticking point was the canter.
In the canter she would brace her neck against the reins and bit so much that she couldn't turn and couldn't keep her balance. Her naturally arched neck became like a steel rod and the more she pulled on her reins the more she freaked out about the pressure of the bit until she couldn't stand it anymore and would stop and thrash. This part was all witnessed on the longe line because there was no way I was getting on her back when she had an issue like that. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid.
Gradually, she gave brief glimpses of understanding that if she relaxed her neck, that everything worked out better. Once I saw that glimmer of hope, I started riding her in the canter. There were still steering issues and trouble with staying upright on turns but the only way for her to learn was to keep plugging away at it. We did little bits of cantering, then back to the trot to re-supple and reaffirm turning. Then tried a little more canter asking for just a hint of give in her iron like neck and jaw. Then back to the walk to relax and work on bending. There started to be moments in the canter when she would let go for a second, or we would turn a corner and I didn't grit my teeth and hold my breathe waiting for her to tip over completely.
Yesterday, Nova cantered circles in both directions with softness in her poll, jaw and neck. She was using her topline to balance instead of hauling herself around by her front legs and the underside of her neck. It was a good canter. Not a medal-winning canter, but a huge milestone for her. Once she trusted me enough to do what I was asking her to do, she actually found it much easier and more comfortable. There was no way to force her to that conclusion. If I had tried to force her she would have continued to battle and eventually hurt herself. Or me.
There were no tie-downs involved. No crank nosebands. I did use side reins, but ones with rubber "donuts" so that there was give to them. I worked with what Nova needed to do and did not ask her to fit into a training schedule that may have worked for other horses. It was rough going for a while and I spent as many hours thinking about what to do with her as actually doing it. When I first watched her cantering on the longe line, I thought, as I do with a lot of horses that come in with unusual issues, "How the heck am I going to fix that? This horse can't canter (stand still, jump, stop, relax....) at all." Then, I am always amazed at what a horse can do with a little guidance, time and patience.
I look at every horse and see its potential. Not every horse is going to go to the Olympics, or even a horse show at all, but in every horse is the potential to be elegant and cooperative. There are horses who, for whatever legitimate physical reason, will never be comfortable with a rider and those horses can not be trained and should not be trained to ride. The majority will be lovely willing partners with the right tack, good health care, the right feed, and training. Try to fix anything with aggression or force and you'll end up like one of those guys at the bottom of the pit impaled on a sharpened stick. No point C for you.
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