Let it snow?

Today it is the cold before the (maybe) storm. Moisture is sweeping up from the Gulf of Mexico, and maybe by Saturday night/Sunday morning we’ll have a good old Nor’Easter. We had one last year just about this time, and Christmas was white.

Unfortunately, I wasted all that drifty, fluffy goodness. We had company (and was I glad of that!) and Champagne and I were too new to the barn and environs to venture out into the trail system through the drifts. But this year we’re not.

I’m looking forward to a nice tramp though two feet of snow. Because he isn’t shod, he doesn’t get ice balls all clumped up in his feet, and he’s pretty sure footed. When I rode out a couple of weeks ago, there were perhaps three inches on the ground, and each twig of the trees and trail-side brush was picked out in snow; quite lacy and delicate. (N.b. to http://ryanlion.livejournal.com/ : you never see that!) I came upon a cross-country skier who said that my black horse and I looked beautiful in all the whiteness. When we got back to the barn, Champagne’s feet were as clean as if they’d been washed.

Can Champagne pick up a trot (or even a canter) in the snow? That would certainly be one way to warm us both up. I’m so Jonesing to try.

Improvement continues

Whatever muscular pain Champagne seems to have been feeling is improving. I hate to admit it, but the combination of chiropractic adjustments and longeing him at the canter, plus a lot of work backing up (he rounds up to back up) and a lot of trotting with a loose rein so he can lower his head nearly to the floor has created enough strength/comfort for him to carry me at the canter for short stretches.

Also, I’ve been doing a lot of work on my seat, so I’m more stable and comfy cantering. That feels good. I have been very nervous about it since he ran away with me that day this past August.

Champagne is down to five flakes a day, in hopes that his tubby little barrel will slim down, because I know it is hard on his frame to carry that extra weight. Still, when I come to the barn and call him, he leaves his beloved hay net to come say hi. And although I don’t allow head-butting, he has taken to just gently bumping me with his nose which I find endearing.

We’re growing together and learning together, it would seem. Very satisfactory.

You never know the tracks you leave

As I may have mentioned, I really enjoy sharing Champagne with kids. From time to time this past summer as I was riding in the outdoor arena, a car would pull in and a group would pile out and kind of oooh and ah at Champagne.

I always ride him over to the rail and let them pat him, answer questions, and if they seem interested I let them feed him a carrot from the stash I keep in my pocket. Once or twice I’ve even given a pony ride on him.

I guess it is like being a proud Mama. I love to show off my beautiful boy. Then, too, I remember my life-long intense wistful longing for a horse, so it pleases me to share a little horse time with someone who might feel the same way.

Yesterday at the barn Champagne got a piece of mail. It was a thank you card, with a very cute crayon drawing of Champagne inside. It said, “We went to visit a horse named Champagne. Bonnie and Kim fed him a carrot.” The card had a very nice thank you from someone named Dorinda, Senior Staff Counselor from The Bridge of Central Mass.

On the Internet I learned that this agency serves children and adolescents with serious emotional, behavioral, and family problems, as well as adults with mental health, developmental disability, and substance abuse challenges.

As I thought back to September I began to remember the two girls and the counselor Champagne met this fall. I had truly forgotten about them until Champagne got his letter! I was really pleased. Something I just did for my own pleasure, sharing my horse, turns out to have been a help to some kids who probably needed some magic in their lives. How’s that for a holiday story!

Two seats

As I ride Champagne in my two saddles, I find I need two types of sitting postures.

My dressage saddle calls for quite an upright posture, and I am still learning the fine points. I understand the concept of being able to draw a straight line from ankle through hips through ear, but that’s harder to achieve that it would seem. For one thing, I continually have to remind myself to “open my hip angle” which appears to mean move my thighs back more, to hug the saddle with my thighs kind of rolled in, keeping my feet back behind the girth, and remembering to tilt my pelvis just slightly forward, while reaching up with the top of my head and bringing my shoulder blades back, all while staying “loose” (not rigid). Erm herm. However, when I do it right, my seat really does feel deeper, my seat and legs are pretty motionless on Champagne unless I am using an aid, and in general I feel really rooted to his back and not likely to come off.

But it is very pleasant to ride the trails in my new saddle. For some reason I feel higher up in it, and it certainly does not give me the feeling of being connected to Champagne that the dressage saddle does, but it is very comfy. I have the stirrups long, although I did lose them once or twice on the weekend, but the cantle is high and really helpful. While on the trail, Champagne startled forward a few steps because some mountain bikers were coming up behind us unexpectedly. I’m not saying I would have come off in the other saddle, but it was very comforting to have that nice high nubuck cantle help me dart forward with my horse. Trails are for going a long way and enjoying the ride with my boy; rings and arenas are for working on impulsion, forwardness, and responsiveness on his part and on perfecting my seat on may part.

It feels good to have a trade-off.

G'Day, Mates!

Yesterday I received my new Australian drover’s saddle and tried it on Champagne. He has a tough back to fit, but I put a white pad under the saddle to try to see after I rode (from the soil pattern) whether the saddle was bearing down unduly on particular spots on his back.

As I led him to the cross ties he spotted the new saddle and was all eyes and ears, and was very dubious when I put it on his back. It is a lot heavier than my dressage saddle, and I had thought that one was heavy. The barn manager showed me how to fasten the girth (cinch?). “Latigo” is a new term for me.

The saddle is very handsome, black, and made of synthetics and newbuck so it should be pretty impervious to rain. I have a sporty new saddle blanket, black with maroon weavings, but yesterday I didn’t try that out too.

After we got the saddle on, but while he was still in the cross ties, Kathy-the-barn-manager mounted, just to be sure he would not spook. He laid his ears back and was restless, but then he is never mounted while in the cross ties, and he doesn’t like change.

I led him around the indoor a few times, stirrups dangling, and he seemed OK, so I go on. His opinion: “I can’t walk.” That’s a characteristic Champagne response to a lot of things, so I ignored him, and eventually we were walking and even trotting around, if not happily or rapidly, at least non-violently. The saddle is cushy and comfy from the top side, but I can’t feel him as well through it.

Kathy got on again, and after a little resistance she got him cantering, which he did to the left fine, and to the right with difficulty, picking up the wrong lead at first but finally giving a slow, less than rhythmic canter. More about that tomorrow; it isn’t a saddle issue.

After that we took the saddle off and checked the white pad: pretty even soil marks, although one possible pressure point on one shoulder, and maybe a little evidence of “bridging” at one spot where the soil was a little lighter. All in all, it seems like something I’ll be able to work with. I’ll try it on the trails Saturday, but it seems like a keeper. Now I have to send for a western saddle rack. Thanks for the tip to look at Down Under Saddle http://www.downunderweb.com from http://ryanlion.livejournal.com !

Irisado "Two Spooks" Champagne

The woods are lovely this time of year. By now most of the oranges and reds have gone, but the yellows remain, and everywhere the leaves are drifting down in a pale silent rain. The vistas under the trees have opened up, and you can see much deeper into the forest.

Champagne and I enjoyed being out Sunday. Well, I enjoyed it. He’s willing to go along, and even responds to some of my daft ideas, like trotting up the pipeline hill (though he’s pretty puffed by the time we reach the top). I ask him to trot for two reasons: one, to build up his wind, and two, because if we walk up, he keeps stopping and insisting he can’t possibly make it.

At one point there is a decision on the path: turn left, and we head to the barn, but turn right and we explore some other areas of the woods. Champagne doesn’t want the right option, but he does go there if I really insist.

We often come across people out walking their dogs. Champagne is pretty calm about dogs, even if the dog is loose and comes yapping up. I guess living with four really active ones in his last barn immunized him against dog-terror. Sunday we also ran into a family with a girl about six or seven. She wanted to know if Champagne was the Black Stallion (her favorite movie). He’s in his winter coat, so he does look that dark. I carry carrot stubs with me, and when we come across kids who are interested I let them feed him a carrot. Magic!

So we had a very fine time, just the two of us, and when I had enough I let him make the choices and we got back home faster than you’d think. But he was acting skittery as we came up near the open shed so I grabbed the grab strap because he spooked there at the woodpile this summer and I came off. Yesterday he spooked at just the same spot. This time I was ready. Then we moved forward ten or twenty feet, and he spooked again! More grab strap. Crazy beast. After that he was fine.

The apple of my eye

The WBH, being slightly insulin resistant, isn’t supposed to have grain or things with sugar, but I do love to give him treats. I have taught him to stand quietly while I hold out a piece of carrot just at nose level, and not to take it until I say “okay”. (Formerly he was quite rude about treats, lunging at them in an alarming way.)

I also have taught him to stand still while I mount and dismount by rewarding him with a carrot piece. But as a rule, he doesn’t get a lot of food rewards.

Lately though, as we go on our traditional cool-down circuit of the property perimeter, I have noticed that some trees have small ripe crab apples in easy reach. I have also taught Champagne not to randomly browse the foliage as we ride, and he is very good about it. So the last couple of times I have halted him so I can pick a red ripe apple the size of a marble. Then I give it to him.

He lips it, gums it, and then CHOMP! I guess apples are a hit.

My fine fellow (again)

Once in a while riding is a pleasure, not just another chance to work on this or that technique, which is boring and often does not succeed.

Saturday I took Champagne out on the trails all by myself (which I admit can be hazardous, but I took my cell phone) and it was really fun.

I only met one other person, a mountain biker who came up behind us, shouted ahead to me, and asked if he should walk his bike as he passed us. I accepted and moved Champagne off the trail. After the guy passed, Champagne was like, “Can we go with him? Can we catch up?” He was calm and steady, and not at all afraid.

The day was coolish with bright sunshine. A nice little breeze was ruffling the leaves, and some trees were showering yellow leaflets. Champagne came home with a leaf stuck under his saddle blanket! The woods have already begun opening up: the low underbrush and ferns have sunk toward the earth, and I could see further into the clearings. Champagne alerted a few times, but I never saw deer.

He went willingly up the pipeline hill that he always pretends he can’t climb, and even trotted near the top. No spooking, and very polite, responsive behavior.

The trail back to the barn climbs and dips through tall white pines, and the footing is sand and pine needles, pleasant and aromatic.

I admit I did practice a bit of the “rubber donut elbow” thing that I’ve been learning in the arena . . . keeping the reins shorter and my arms at my sides, but using a flexible elbow to follow the movement of his head as he walks. This can only be done if the horse is stepping right along, but he was, so I did. Another notch in my ridership, I guess.

Anyway, a stress-free ride. I am back in love with my fine fellow.

Horse chiropractic

Don’t mark me down as a believer. I just can’t imagine how a gentle tap here and there from a spring-loaded “activator” can readjust muscles and bones. They are, after all, fairly substantial (especially in horses) and I should think that it would take some pretty hefty forces to get them into alignment, assuming they are not aligned properly to begin with.

Well, Champagne has a crookedness issue that seems to be getting worse. He’ll canter left (he did it for me Tuesday!) but not right, and even when walking straight he curves to the left. Cath, my instructor, rode him on trails the week we were gone and said she heard his back clicking. She heard it again during the lesson last night (although I didn’t, but then I’m a little deaf).

So I have agreed to have him have a series of treatments to see if he can be straightened out at all. I am very skeptical, but on the other hand if there is a chance he can be prevented from becoming lame and need stall rest for weeks it seems worth a try.

But on the other hand (?three hands?) if he only wants to canter left, is that an issue? In Wyoming I asked which lead to ask for on loping and the wrangler said the horses pretty much pick their own, whatever they prefer, and most of them do have a preference. Those hard-working ponies get the job done without a fuss and lead options don’t seem to be a consideration.

I am so getting Champagne a western saddle for the trails, and if the chiropractic doesn’t work, he’ll get to not canter right, I guess.

Readjustment

I never knew my dressage saddle was so light! Compared to a western saddle it is nothing at all.

I never knew how much less protection my dressage saddle gives than a western saddle. It always seemed so much more cushy than a plain forward seat English saddle.

I never knew how little Champagne has a swinging back, at least compared to the rolling gait of the little roan quarter horse I rode at the dude ranch.

I knew Champagne’s trot was easy to sit, but I never realized just how easy until riding him yesterday.

After the little roan, Champagne seems like a big horse, and very sturdily built. When I first saw the roan I thought he had a ewe neck. I guess he didn’t, but compared to Champagne his neck seemed skinny and flat.

I had to let my stirrup leathers out a notch yesterday in order to feel that they were long enough, and even then I think another notch might be in order.

Champagne’s natural lack of forwardness at the walk is a very good match for the trail pace of the western horses, but he’s a wuss compared to them. The steep rocky ups and downs and bouldery stream crossings would have him in a heap, and he’d have to wear shoes for sure. If I could have him in the Wyoming landscape for a month or two, though, his strength would build up a lot.

I’m glad to be back with him, but I’m thinking of getting a western saddle for the trails. The barn has a couple I can try this weekend!

Real fantasy

It still doesn’t seem as if it could possibly have happened. Can you imagine having a secret wish/hope/fantasy for absolutely as long as you can remember (at least since age three or four) that has been percolating along inside you all these years, and suddenly having it become real, full-blown?

Because over the years you grow up and cool down and get mature, and you understand that the wishes and dreams of childhood are just that: dreams. No substance. Never happen. So you kind of wall them off and tell yourself that they were just childish thoughts anyway, and you even wall off the sadness that comes with letting the dreams slip away. And you are OK. Really. Functioning well, getting pleasure out of life, having moments and even days of richness, and all in all things are working in your life.

But some part of you never forgets that old deep longing, and the pining wish is like a little red ember under the ashes. You don’t see it there when you look, but the heat can still start a fire if the conditions are right.

So that’s what happened to me this past week in Wyoming. There is no way to put into words what it feels like to have that hidden hope be kindled into joy so suddenly. My fantasy became real in every detail. At the ranch it was as if we dropped out of time entirely, and spent weeks of wonder together in the space of a few days. If you’re wondering where, this is it: http://www.paradiseranch.com

They give you your own horse for the week so you can build a relationship with it (my carrot blandishments went quite far toward creating rapport) and each of the three of us was assigned a horse with a personality that fit us well. You can pick from morning, afternoon, or all-day rides, and try team cow penning and barrel racing if you have a mind to. The land is beyond gorgeous, and though we rode on every available ride all week we never went to the same place twice. You can pick from all walk, walk/trot, or walk/trot/lope rides, and there are even “extreme lope” rides for the very adventurous.

Canyons fragrant with the spice of lodge pole pines; high, golden mountain meadows; huge jagged volcanic outcroppings of gneiss; clear rushing streams sleeked with trout; and always behind everything the backdrop of high blue mountains bearing white glaciers . . . and me and my little roan horse Red Rover, Ken and his paint Buster, and Lorian with her chestnut Jackson, all in a landscape that could hold the world: perfection.

I’m still aglow. How can something so completely otherworldly feel like coming home?

Balancing act

Riding is all a matter of balance, they say.

This is true in more ways that you might think.

For example, riding and attendant horse care is time consuming. There is: getting to the barn (unless you have a backyard horse, something I would love to try!), then grooming and tacking up, riding for an hour or so, after-ride care for the horse and the tack, and then the drive home. So figure two hours minimum, but more like three many days. So life has to be planned so that the additional time each day can be balanced with work, household chores, and family. And probably some sleep.

While my dad was alive, the timing of visits in the nursing home was such that riding could usually not be scheduled the same day. I still find myself having uncomfortable twinges as I am leaving the barn as to whether I am in a clean enough state to visit my dad, and whether he will be eating or asleep, until I remember that he’s not there anymore.

Then there is fiscal balance. Keeping a horse is expensive: board, vet bills, new tack from time to time, farrier, lessons, and maybe a need for specialized services such as adjustments to his spine for crookedness, and (for our household) that has to be balanced with the very expensive hobby of flying. Luckily our house is paid off, but the annual property taxes are higher than our annual mortgage payments used to be!

There is the physical balance of riding. I am working to get better at that by riding with no stirrups at the walk and trot as a cool-down after the schooling part of the ride is over. I like it a lot, but I’m not so sure I would like cantering without them.

Finally there is the mental balance. Champagne’s careening gallop thing last week has made me a little tentative about asking for another canter, at least without Cath around in case he takes off again. There is no reason he should, but I think my lack of confidence may have had something to do with why I couldn’t get him to canter left (his left preferred, slower, more reluctant side) yesterday. I didn’t try canter right, which is the side he has been known to bolt on. And I am mindful that I especially don’t want to get hurt right before vacation.

Am I keeping being in balance in balance?

Mrs. K's Wild Ride

Champagne went on a spree last night.

I was working with Cath, my instructor, on getting him more forward and energetic. I am transitioning to spurs, which Champagne really does not like. Of course I never jab him in the sides with them, but sometimes I do poke him in an oblique way. It does wonders for his responsiveness. I get really good leg yields and turns on the forehand, and his basic walking and trotting cadence is much improved.

Cantering is still kind of an issue, especially cantering left. I had never cantered him wearing spurs, but last night I did. Cath had me get him to trot so fast that he might naturally have to fall into a canter, even if that meant he’d be on his forehand. I got him going right really fast, but he never did spontaneously canter, so she said to ask for a one.

I did, and suddenly things were completely out of control. He broke into a gallop and became unsteerable. I was riding with really long reins so be extra sure I didn’t pull on his mouth in the half halt, and his move into the gallop was explosive. Luckily I grabbed the grab strap strategically located at the front of the saddle, and held on with both hands. I also had the reins, but was afraid to shorten them because I needed my grip on the strap.

At first he was all over the arena, but I managed to do a bit of steering with the inside rein, trying to spiral him in, working toward such a small circle that he wouldn’t be able to sustain the gallop, but that only caused him to slip a bit on the sand, not to slow.

Okay, I’m on a speeding horse and completely out of control. My main thing was not to fall off (shades of ryanlion!), and my second thing was to try to regain control.

Slowly I got my outside rein shortened a little, and that improved steerability somewhat, although at times we were charging straight for the fence, only to veer off at the last minute (thank goodness he isn’t a jumper!). Then I got the inside rein shorter too, and began pulling, which had little effect. I was still too off balance to let go of the grab strap, so that limited the effectiveness of pulling.

After more than two minutes of wild ride, he did slow to a trot, but as I tried to steer him he took off again. This time I had a better grip on the reins, and after about another minute he slowed to a fast trot again. Cath said to slow to a walk immediately (usually after a canter we slow to a working trot before walking), and as I got the speed down she grabbed the reins and we stopped. Yikes.

So I had close to four minutes of major speed, and Champagne was snorting and blowing and acting like he would just as soon take off again. Cath said later that because of my off-balance position I was goading him on with my spurs at every stride. Oh my. Not like he has never bolted before (without spurs) but this one was major.

Cath hopped on and rode him the other way in canter, and made sure he was listening and responsive before Ken had his lesson . . . and Ken had a part longe lesson to be safe.

Today I have mild soreness in my shoulders and back, although I went to the gym yesterday and that’s probably a contributing factor. I’ll probably ride today, but no spurs. No getting hurt, especially right before vacation!

Cuddlier

I think I’m winning the love puddle contest with Champagne.

My boy is becoming a lot more demonstrative and interactive. Saturday I had all sorts of non-riders and semi-riders up on his back for pony rides, and some of them couldn’t get him to trot. However they did get a trotting ride after I started standing in front of him, telling him “come-come-come” (which I use to get him to move along after me), and then experimented with running. Sure enough he stepped right into a nice trot right behind me, sometimes with his nose pressed against my back as I ran.

He also has begun asking to be scratched or rubbed in specific places. Yesterday he wanted his eye gently rubbed. Often when I’m brushing his neck he cranes his neck way up, opens his lips in a quiver of delight, and then brings his head down to hug my shoulder. I guess he has bites that are itchy and he enjoys being scratched.

He comes to the stall door when I come to the barn . . . well not right away sometimes, but by the time I am done schlepping all the tack and grooming stuff to the cross ties, he is at the stall door, expecting to get his halter, and putting his nose out obligingly. He endearingly lowers his head for me to put the fly net on easily.

Yesterday he even nickered at me, something he rarely does. Maybe he knows I need special handling right now, or maybe since I’ve been his mom for more than a year, and I am a source of good things like hand grazing and carrots and mints and rubs, he’s decided I’m worth paying attention to. Or maybe I’m just teaching him things that I like and he is learning like a good pupil. Whatever, it’s fun.

Chief Thundercloud. Not

It is confirmed: Champagne is a wuss about thunder.

Last night as I was warming up for my lesson, suddenly he didn’t want to go near one end of the ring. Next he spooked ten feet away from a bush. Then it was real work to keep him near the rail. And all the time he was popping his neck way up, moving sideways, looking at things that weren’t there, and being completely unresponsive to the aids. Then he began to trot really fast . . . maybe the fastest he’s ever gone. Very out of character.

Finally we heard a distant roll of thunder. Champagne had probably been hearing it through his feet. He wouldn’t have been a safe ride for Ken, but I had a horse with lots of undirected energy. Cath had me work on doing a lot of change ups to focus his mind back inside the ring, and paying attention to me. Walk/stop transition, walk/trot transitions, 20 meter circles, and finally canter/trot transitions. By the end of the hour, I was really tired. I haven’t been riding that much with all the other stuff going on, and haven’t even been to the gym since last week on Wednesday.

Once again, and especially with a jumpy horse, riding proved its value as therapy. There is no room for sadness or anything else unrelated to the ride. I was also working at staying calm to help him feel calm. Then too, it is helpful to get physically tired to match my emotional exhaustion. The combination helped me sleep fairly well last night.

After my lesson, Ken rode in the indoor. The thunder had vanished and there were no visual distractions, so Champagne went back to sleep, testing Ken and making him work at getting some impulsion. Still, Ken has come a long way in just a few short months (riding just half an hour a week!) I hope by Wyoming we’ll both be strong enough to enjoy hours in the saddle.

A stuck horse

Monday, in horrid heat and humidity, I rode again for the first time since coming off three weeks ago. My back is much improved, but the break in activity had not left Champagne much improved.

Because it was so hot and sticky, I decided to just ride at a walk on the grassy areas around the barn, not in the baking outdoor or the incredibly stuffy indoor. He was, best I can say, cranky. Normally he is a sweetie, although he can be stubborn and opinionated. But the flies were the worst, he seemed to mind the heat, and his ears were flattened back sometimes. Plus, he would not walk along the track between two marshy areas. There was no actual bucking, but lots of refusing and turning in circles and pretty strong attempts to go back to the barn. I tried lots of strategies, including backing up and circling, but finally I was just too hot to argue any more. I know that was not a good decision because I am setting myself up for other refusals, but also I was feeling light headed and sick from the heat. I did lead him through the problem area at least.

During last night’s lesson, with much cooler weather, he was much more willing. I got some nice energetic walking, some decent trots, and canter left as much as my sore back could tolerate, but no canter right. When I asked for a canter transition, Champagne threw up his head, hollowed out his back, and actually came to a stop!

I asked Cath to get on, which she did, and said he is “stuck in his neck”. We know that due to his crookedness it is easier for him to bend to the left and hard for him to bend to the right. She did a lot of cantering on a 20 meter circle going right, with the right rein lifted way up to get him to bend his neck and loosen his body. After that I was able to get back on and get a canter right on a completely loose rein. Something to work on. Yet again something to work on. Still, it was great to have my sweet boy back.

This weekend is supposed to be very hot and humid again. I don’t know if a ride will be in the cards.

Oh my aching back

Well, I came off my horse again. Sunday. Nothing broken, but I pulled a muscle in my back.

Champagne and I had gone on a nice trail ride together, just the two of us. We had a few differences of opinion during the ride, but he eventually did agree to see it my way.

Starting out he didn’t agree with my decision to go on the trails without other people, and was bouncing and snorting across the roads and grass until we got to the trails.

Then we came to the long, steep hill called “The Pipeline”. The trail at that point is as wide as a road, steep, and moderately rocky. The footing is good, though. When we first came to it, Champagne balked. Just wouldn’t move forward at all. He also tried his favorite trick, which is to back up. It was early in the ride, so I asked him to cross the trail, and go on another section which also climbs the same steep hill, but is a narrow path and a little winding. He didn’t realize he was going the same way.

After we’d been out about an hour, we had wound back down to the base of the pipeline and again he said he couldn’t possibly go up it. After refusing and backing and threatening to bolt and thrashing around in the brush beside the trail he eventually did agree to go up the pipeline, although he stopped three times on the way up to indicate his displeasure. He doesn’t like to back up downhill, though, which was in my favor.

Once it had been demonstrated that I was the one in charge of our heading, and since we’d been out awhile, I headed back.

All along the pasture fence and across the lawn, he was again bouncing and snorting. He doesn’t like the old barn with open stalls that we have to walk near. After rounding that barn, the home fields are in sight, but upon rounding the barn, SUDDENLY! There was a WOODPILE! The same dreaded woodpile that had NOT MOVED in nine months! And it was STILL THERE!

He jumped off the ground with all four feet, wheeled, and bolted. I came off and landed on my right side and back. After bolting for about 20 feet, Champagne suddenly thought, “Oh, hey, I could be eating grass!” And began to contentedly graze.

I was afraid that he would not let me catch him, and might run into the road or trample the crops growing nearby, but no, he was fine. So I caught him, finished riding him home, groomed him and put all the stuff away. But I was having a bit of discomfort upon any twisting and bending.

Today, three days later, I am soooo stiff and sore. It is very hard to turn over at night. Walking is OK as long as I go slowly, and I can drive, sit (straight), stand, type, and reach over my head. Still, that wretched creature! And so much for my deeper seat. Ratz.

Midsummer horse update

Ken and I were talking this week about our respective hobbies: I am warming up a bit to flying (a little bit I hasten to add) and he is growing fond of Champagne-as-a-pet. Ken is basically a softie for animals, and Champagne has many cute and endearing traits which are easy to like. I am not as afraid of flying, though I can’t picture myself taking the plane out for a spin on my own.

When Ken showed up for his lesson Wednesday, Champagne and I were in the outdoor and his ears came up, his neck rounded more, and his trot quickened as we headed toward Ken at the gate. I know that some geldings don’t like men, but clearly Champagne knows Ken and is happy he’s part of the herd. That’s endearing.

On his ride, Ken was working on softening his pelvic area and suddenly he was riding much better. Kathy the barn manager and Nancy, a boarder, both commented to me how much better he looked, and I could see it myself. Much less stiff, much more moving with the gait. He was practicing sitting the trot, and then the trot rising. He said that half-seat work the lesson before had really helped. I get a kick out of seeing his progress, and of course I love it that he likes my boy and my boy likes him.

For my part, the canter issue seems pretty well resolved. I can tell that Champagne can tell when I am about to ask for the canter, and I can feel him getting ready to respond. That’s great! Of course now there are a couple of other issues. For one, he tends to drop out of the canter unexpectedly. For another, when I try to do anything else (like slow or speed up the pace, sit even deeper in the saddle, or turn) he also drops out. On Wednesday we were trying trot/canter transitions, and he got all tense and frustrated, and was kind of bucking/kind of hopping/kind of cantering in place. I am now thinking that it will be another year before I can begin working on changes of lead.

In the meantime, if the weather is flyable this weekend we’re going to Vermont to visit my brother. If it isn’t, I’ll get to ride. So it’s all good, I guess.

Phantom menaces

All hail the sun! It is back! Imagine . . . maybe we’ll have some nice days after all.

Riding in the bright cool sunny evening is such a pleasure. Champagne, too, seems more willing to work, and we’ve had some very nice canter sessions. He seems more responsive to my leg, and more maneuverable. I wonder, though, if riding “patterns” will ever get automatic for both of us.

We have also had some interesting conversations about where we will go. After working in the outdoor, I usually ride him around the perimeter of the property to cool down. That means we leave the ring, go down a small grassy hill, along a track that crosses two little streams, along a dirt road with a tomato field on one side and a wooded depression on the other; then a turn along the second side of the crop field along a dirt road with a stone wall along one side; another turn along the top of the crop field with trees and brush along the left hand side, through a narrow place between trees on one side and a paddock fence on the other, and then back up the grassy hill to the barn.

Champagne is dubious about the safety of the wooded depression and sometimes spooks there; as well, he has seen deer across the stone wall, so he is concerned about the safety of the dirt road.

Yesterday, after the torrential rains and tornado warnings of the week, the landscape is a bit different. The two small streams are now more like ponds than streams, and the places where the road crosses them are narrow and partly under water. The crop field slopes toward the wooded depression, and some soil and mulch had washed across the dirt road, leaving swirly patterns of darker and lighter dirt. As well, a tractor had driven on the dirt road, leaving a cross-hatched tire pattern. Oh my.

First Champagne decided we couldn’t cross the two small streams. Much backing up and turning around and snorting and sidling. I kept asking that he cross, and he was pretty forceful in resisting, but I finally got him up to the first stream, where we had to snort and sniff the puddles. At last he walked through.

Then we came to the swirly patterns. Definitely a danger. More backing, turning and snorting, but these I had to control more because the tomato plants are being trained up metal stakes, and he could get injured if he thrashed into them. Eventually we minced around the swirly patterns, and they did not actually eat us.

Then it was on to the tractor tracks. Those were beyond suspicious: those were an actual menace. Impossible to walk across them!! More acting up, snorting, head tossing, balking. Deeply worrisome!

In this way we made it all the way around the cool-down circuit and back to the barn. Throughout I was more amused than anything, and tried to remember to sit deep and calm in the saddle, not look at any one of the obstacles other than just as a passing glance (because the more I stare at something the more he thinks it is a concern), and to tell him what a good boy he is and that it is all okay in my calm, soothing-while-grooming voice. So even though we had some really nice canter sequences in the ring, I think I enjoyed the cool down lap the most!

He was very cute when we got back to the barn, too. I don’t have pockets in my pseudojeans riding tights, and usually I give him a piece of carrot for standing still as I dismount. Last night I had the carrot piece in my brush box in the barn. But Champagne is used to getting it right away after I get off, even before I loosen the girth. Last night he kept bumping me with his nose: Carrot. Carrot. Not hard bumping, just a nudge. Carrot. The bumping stopped after we went inside and he had his carrot. He may not be a very person-centric horse, but he has a definite language and speaks very clearly.

Love puddle: not

My Dad used to say that I made all my animals into “love puddles”. I would socialize them and handle them and get them used to having affection showered upon them until they became trusting and cuddly and relaxed around people.

My rabbits would lie upside down in my arms, and Misty, a doe, would let me handle her new babies right from birth. Cliff, a blue jay I raised from before the time that his little feathers fluffed out of their pin shafts, would swoop down out of the trees and nestle in my neck. My current cat Nikky was adopted from an animal rescue place. She had been given up for biting and not using her litter box. Now she is the most placid and loving of animals, and her only fault is that she wants affection all the time, and it isn’t always convenient. In fact, my Dad warned me when I began to have children: Do not make love puddles of them!

When I bought Champagne, his former owner said he wasn’t a very demonstrative horse. I thought I’d be able to fix that quickly enough. But, well, not yet. Other people’s horses nicker when they see them. Well in truth, other people’s horses nicker when they see me. Not Champagne. Some other people’s horses come when they call them. Not Champagne. Other people’s horses seem to want to be with their special people. Champagne doesn’t seem to differentiate among people. Mostly he cares about whether he is going to be fed. He will be cute and beg for a treat, but that’s just bribery working.

I know he knows me, and I know he thinks of me as one of his herd. He has learned many tricks. For example, when I say “pick up your foot” he lifts his hoof for me to clean. I have taught him to stand still and not dive for a carrot held right under his nose until I say “Okay”. He does seem to trust me, and will go into many situations he thinks might be dangerous and will quickly calm after a spook when I tell him he is a good boy and the situation is fine. When I hand-walk him and let him graze, he is willing to stop eating and be led to a new area (mostly because I seek out clover beds for him).

But he does not: come over and bump me with his nose; snuffle in my hair; perk up and come to the stall door when I get to the barn; lean his head on me; indicate where he’d like me to scratch him; act jealous when I pat other horses; seem eager to go out and do some work.

The only real opinion he expresses when I am tacking him up is that he lowers his head so I can easily put the crocheted fly mesh on. (He also chews on the cross ties when I put the saddle on, which I interpret as anxiety.) Other than that, his opinions are all about food or not walking in certain places. He’s been mine for a year and a few months now. I am still working on him. But I am beginning to wonder if he just doesn’t have the capacity to build a connection.

The very strange ride

Spangles

Hmm, the beaded headgear for Champagne needs some work.

I put it on him for the first time a couple of weeks ago and took a few pictures, but I wasn’t happy with them because he doesn’t look photogenic enough. I figured I’d try again later when I had a willing assistant to catch his attention.

Meanwhile we rode on the trail, and he looked quite splendid. But the next time we rode on the trail he kept tossing his head, and some of the beads and bells fell off and rolled away. I think it was a failure of the crimper things I used to hold the ends of the strings. I also wondered if the beads were annoying him and that was the reason for the head tossing.

Sunday that was answered by riding with the plain fly mesh and still we had head tossing, so I think it is flies around his eyes, not the beads. But I’ll have to reengineer the whole thing, alas.

Sustaining a canter

Yesterday Champagne and I had a very nice session. He still isn’t all that forward, but he has improved the cadence of his walk tremendously (though I have to remind him) and after about half an hour of warming up (trotting on a loose rein, leg yields, etc.) he will canter.

Lee, who apparently at one time owned Champagne, once said he has “the Cadillac of canters”. When she said it I wasn’t tremendously convinced. For one thing, I was still recovering from my cracked sacrum so cantering was painful, and for another thing I had been riding Fred, the big off-the-track thoroughbred, at my first barn. He truly did have a great canter, and more, he loved to canter, so much so that it was hard at times to get him to stop. (Trotting was something he didn’t like very much, but that’s another story.)

But now I see how nice Champagne’s canter is. Once he finds the rhythm, which doesn’t really come easily to him apparently, he rounds up without prompting. There isn’t much “hang time” in his canter (when all four feet are off the ground) and consequently there isn’t a lot of bounce for the rider. So in theory I should just be able to sit back and enjoy.

But now that we have established that he will canter, we have another issue: he drops out of the canter unexpectedly. Sometimes I can tell that he is going to do it and I can prompt him, but sometimes I miss the signal and suddenly we are just trotting. So that’s the next thing to work on, I guess.

Meanwhile yesterday was hot and muggy, with a gorgeous skyscape of towering clouds with sun-silvered edges. To combat my heat intolerance I have learned to douse myself with water before riding. That works well but results in my becoming very, very grubby while doing horse care. Champagne is looking glossy and elegant; I am looking like one of those third-world people who picks through trash for a living. Luckily Champagne doesn’t care as long as my pocket smells like carrots.

Trail tale

Four of us from the barn went on a nice long trail ride Sunday. It actually wasn’t raining, just overcast, cool and damp. Not buggy, oddly.

One reason I like this new barn so much is that there are lots of people around, and many of them want to “hack out” as some of my English contacts on http://www.trotontv.com say. So anyway, four of us, with big Friesian Thor in the lead, followed by Shea, a black appendix quarter horse, then Rocky, a roan quarter horse, and then Champagne. Mary, Thor’s mom, knows the park well, and led us to an area I’d never explored that’s across a street. It winds through a Christmas tree farm, and is fairly hilly.

Cath had said to try to ride on the buckle to see if Champagne would walk faster and keep up with the group. We’ve been practicing trotting on loose reins, and he sometimes puts his nose really close to the ground and gives a big trot. What I realized is that I have been keeping fairly short reins on the trail, partly because he has spooked from time to time from sudden bursts of rabbits or turkey poults scuttling out unexpectedly, and partly because of his habit of grabbing mouthfuls of leaves.

So I tried riding not exactly on the buckle, but with a much longer rein than usual, and at first he did keep up with the group. (You’d think he would want to!) As he got more tired, though, he began to lag again. Then we would have to trot to catch up every time the trail was root and rock-free enough to make speed safe.

I think I have pretty much convinced him that snacking as we go is not worth it, so the looser rein worked in that regard. His only real issue was when we passed a pen with both a GOAT and a DONKEY in it. Snort snort. Stepping sideways. Bounce bounce. It was (oh my) a ferocious goat. Might have eaten us up whole.

We went down some pretty steep rocky hills, and Champagne was careful and surefooted, though I notice the shod horses’ feet had some slips and slides. All that up-and-down is good to build the muscles in his back and rump, plus it is more fun than going around and around in the ring. We trotted up some pretty steep hills, and that was good for him as well. He sometimes wanted to trot downhill as well, but mostly that didn’t feel safe because there were too many rocks.

We were out about two hours, and today I feel fine. We’ll see how Champagne feels when I ride this evening (thunderstorms predicted). I wouldn’t be surprised if he felt a bit stiff. After all, he was the one doing all the work yesterday!

Lessony snicket

Ken and I had a great lesson last night. It works out very well when the timing is right. We’ve switched to Wednesday evening lessons so I can have both weekend days free to trail ride. When Ken can get to the barn by 6:00, he rides first for half an hour, and by the time I ride Champagne is all warmed up and moving nicely.

Ken is coming along very well. He has pretty much mastered the rising trot, and is beginning to work on his half seat. He is a fairly decent skier and I find that riding the half seat is a lot like skiing: you take the bouncing terrain using your ankle, knees and hips as shock absorbers while your upper body stays pretty quiet. Half seat is strenuous, but it is a lot of fun. Of course it would be easier on a forward seat saddle, but we can both manage in my dressage saddle.

He also wants to begin to canter so that when we have our dude ranch vacation this fall he’ll be able to join the canter rides. I think it is a bit early for him to do this, and in fact he nearly came off last night while Champagne cantered on the lunge line. I think he pulled a groin muscle and felt a sharp pain. He will have to work hard on softening in order to sit a canter.

When I mounted, Champagne was quite ready to walk forward with energy, and we trotted almost right away because he was warm. Lately we’ve been working on transitions. In this case, transitions between a big, energetic trot, and a teeny jog-trot. Last night Cath was teaching me to ask for the small trot by changing my posting . . . rhythm? Stiffness? . . . something to do with my seat that Champagne is supposed to learn to read and respond to. Since I’m not clear about what it is, it isn’t surprising that it didn’t go that well.

We also did a lot of work trotting on the buckle. Champagne puts his nose almost to the ground and gives a big swinging trot that is sooooo fun to ride. I just sit there (well, post) and I could hold both arms out like wings, flying through the air. I just hold the buckle enough to keep the reins from slipping down his neck. When he does that his back rises up under me, and it is a whole other feeling from the hammocky shape I’m used to.

Then we cantered, going for a huge canter down the long side. That was probably the fastest I’ve ever ridden him, not asking for collection, just asking for speed. Oh my, that’s fun too, but I still find that my feet slip forward in the stirrups. My heels don’t stay reliably down at that pace even though I’m doing better on that in the other gaits. Plus I have to learn to keep my hands really quiet when asking for the canter. Cath says the half-halt can be as subtle as just closing my hand on the outside rein.

I am well pleased with my shiny, shed-out, energetic horse.

Changes in attitude

Well, sort of. Today is: cold and rainy. The temperature has been hovering in the 60s for a couple of weeks . . . low 60s at night, and up a couple of degrees during the day. But they are promising a change starting tomorrow. It will become hot and rainy. Variety is always good.

I rode in the indoor last night. Even though the outdoor is surfaced with sand it is a soggy mess right now, and besides it was spitting rain. I had planned to lunge Champagne to wake him up, but I didn’t have much energy and I was a bit nervous about breaking yet another finger (or the same one again, even worse) so I just saddled up.

Champagne was being his usual lethargic self. I’d prompt for energy, and then remind him to keep his back up and his neck arched, but as soon as he did that he’d slow down and get all limp again. He pretended he couldn’t even leg yield at the trot, and was doing the old “slow way down at the corners so she won’t ask for a canter” thing. I was getting pretty gloomy myself. Riding a dopey horse is a lot of work.

Finally I gave him a good honking crack with the crop on his side behind my leg. I know he felt it because he did kick out behind. But suddenly he was quite willing, much more on the bit, nice walking energy, pretty brisk trot, and canter either way I wanted. Now I know he was just gaming me with all that slow stuff. Sheesh. Out-gamed by a horse.

We ended the ride with some trotting on completely loose reins. He stretched his neck out so far his nose was six inches from the ground, his back came up, and it was kind of fun. These days I’m ending my rides by giving him the buckle but still asking for energy, and trying to steer, speed up, slow down, and stop just using my seat and legs. That’s good for both of us.

So my mood is considerably improved despite the atmospheric conditions. And I am so happy to have the indoor. If Champagne still lived at Anne’s I would not have been able to ride for most of June.

Gloom-grrrr-gloom

The weather is pretty dim. Grim. Dim. Yesterday we actually had a Nor’easter, usually a winter weather pattern here. Not as much rain as usual for that kind of storm, but plenty of wind. My tomato plants blew over. Of course.

We are currently having the second most overcast June in the history of record keeping, and it is getting to everyone. The lawns are green as the sod of Ireland, and I expect a core sample of trees would show a nice wide growth ring for this year. But I still haven’t turned the heat off in our back room for the season, and the space heater under my desk at work has been in use daily. Last night we even used the electric blanket to take some of the dankness out of the bed. I feel as if the mold is growing mold.

To boot, Champagne and I are back to the canter issue again. When I rode Sunday (in the indoor) he only very grudgingly gave me a canter, and kept dropping out of it before being asked to. He has actually learned that I’ll ask for the canter as we enter the turn going into corner to help him pick up the correct lead, and he slows down his trot a few paces before the corner as if to say, “I’m not trotting fast enough to pick up a canter, so don’t ask.” Tonight I plan to lunge him with side reins to get him nice and loosened up before I ride, hoping that will boost his energy. I know I can get a canter on the lunge line. I just hope he doesn’t break my finger again by bolting. (That’s why I’m using the side reins, for that added bit of control. Plus I have seen Cath string the line through the bit on the near side, over the head behind the ears, and clipped to the bit on the other side, which she says gives more control, so I’ll try that too.)

What with the weather, I haven’t flown, either. Both recent lessons were canceled. Now I’m all tense about that again, too. For a cynical pessimist I usually have a quite cheery, involved take on life. But now my inner curmudgeon is showing through.

Bling

Anyone who knows me knows I’m all about the bling. Ever since I was a little girl I was into personal adornment. I used to wear three belts at once: one to hold my pants up, one to hold my gun and holster, and one for good luck. That one was brown leather with colored sparkly stones attached. (The rest of the outfit included: jeans, red faux cowboy boots, a bandanna, red cowboy hat, and a flannel shirt. My Mom finally stopped me wearing it in July during a 90 plus degree day. I claimed it made me feel cooler; she claimed I would die of heat stroke.)

To school I’d wear crystal necklaces all a-glitter from my Grammy’s jewel box, or flashy scatter pins. I remember one dress in particular that Grammy made me that was turquoise in color with a pattern of bumblebees. She bought two bumblebee pins with amber-colored stones to wear with it. I felt like the Queen Bee.

Unfortunately, horses and bling don’t go well together. Horses are just such grubby creatures: rolling, as they do, in the dirt; eating, as they do, off the ground; and pooping, as they do, where they are most likely to step in it. I have a very nice T-shirt with the American flag picked out in crystals on the front, but I wore it one Memorial Day for a ride and of course it got permanently stained. I can still wear it for riding, but not out in polite company.

But now I have found a perfect way to include bling in my equine world. I’ve sent for one of those tasseled crocheted fly things that fit over the ears and forehead of a horse. Champagne loves them; he puts his head way down so I can easily slip it on. The new one will be black in honor of his coloring.

I went bead shopping Monday, and I have a plan to attach beads and bells between each tassel. The bells are little gold jingle bells. I rattled them to be sure that they had a tiny little sound so as not to drive both of us crazy. The rest of the beads are black and/or gold. I also got a slightly larger jet pendant for the middle of his forehead. I’ll string them on flexible beading wire to be durable.

I expect Champagne will have an Arabian harem look with bling on his brow. Photos will be supplied when the project is complete.

Breathing deeply

Yesterday started off like all the days lately: cold foggy drizzle. This spell of weather has really weighed on me, like a scuba weight belt dragging down all my buoyancy. But by afternoon the sky was blue and the sun was out (What is that bright thing up there?) and there was a fresh, cool breeze blowing.

I had a very nice ride. Champagne is finally completely shed out and sleek and shiny. His lip sarcoid seems to have been completely defeated by the chemotherapy cream, and you can’t even see where it was any more. He seems to be accustomed to his new hoof trim, and willing to walk, trot and canter with a bit of energy. Well, if I insist.

He is bird-proof. Sparrows, starlings, barn swallows swooping around, not even a consideration. I think living with chickens helped him in that regard. He is also pretty dog-proof. Yesterday someone’s very energetic German Shepherd puppy came barreling up to him, and no spook. I guess in earlier days he actually charged the dogs at his former barn, but having lived with the four of them for years, he disregards dogs now.

Yesterday I had Champagne stopped by the mirror in the outdoor so I could tend to the vine. It is all in flower, with orange tubular blossoms that shade to yellow at their throat. It is an enthusiastic climber, and I was reaching up to bend some of the tendrils back because they are encroaching on the track at head level when I startled a hummingbird which had come to sample the nectar. That startled me, but not Champagne. Maybe he is just in a phlegmatic mood.

Anyway, the glory of the sun, the cool fresh breeze, the rain water spangling everything, and my good boy all pretty and shiny reminded me how lifting riding can be.

He's baaack . . .

My good responsive, energetic horse is back.

It is now one week after his hoof trimming, and he seems to have adjusted; no more Mr. Tenderfoot. Last night’s ride was full of very nice energetic walking, and lovely trot transitions. Willing to back up, very nice turns on the forehand, and medium good leg yields. Plus we worked on softening in the poll, and he is doing well.

We did canter, although there was less willingness to make a canter transition and less willingness to keep cantering, but I think I know how to fix that on tonight’s ride. He hadn’t cantered for a whole week, so naturally we are set back. Still, a big improvement.

Plus, he is so very cute. For a non-personcentric horse, he can be very engaging. He no longer roughly butts me with his head, but he has taken to giving a little bump with his nose which I find quite cute. He also understands when he will get a carrot chunk, so he is definitely looking for one at those times, like after he has stood still for me to dismount. He’s polite, but looks quite charming as he cranes his neck to look at my pocket.

A schooling ride this evening will be followed (I really hope . . . weather, weather) by two glorious days of trail rides. Couldn’t be a nicer prospect.

Horse of lead

All the images that express the delight of riding depict lightness, wind, wings, uplift, the universal sense of flying that harmonious riding brings.

Well, yesterday my ride was the complete opposite. Champagne felt as if he were wearing ankle weights.

Usually when I am leading him he is barging ahead, looking around, trying to influence where we will go, and it is sometimes not even clear who is leading whom. But yesterday he lagged, and I felt as if I had to pull him along.

When I got on, instead of the new swinging walk he has developed, we plodded like an old draft horse. I doubted that I’d get a trot. Eventually I did get one, but such a small one that I didn’t even bother to post, and he stopped at the least suggestion that I was asking for a halt.

I tried backing up, something that has become pretty much free, easy, and second nature, and he did back a few steps, but then just stood there stolidly like a lump (this was an issue a year ago but we had licked in back in December!)

And there was no canter in him at all. Just none.

So I am thinking that he may have sore legs from his hoof trim. His feet weren’t hot on the bottom, and looked quite nice, but the farrier did lower his heels a bit. I imagine that all the tendons in the backs of his legs may be sore and stiff from this new angle. It would be like someone who wears 4” Jimmy Choos all the time suddenly putting on running shoes. It would be normal to expect some stiffness in adapting.

Champagne’s legs aren’t hot, and I’m really hoping that he’ll spring back to normal in a few days. I’m hoping I didn’t make a mistake in allowing this new hoof trim. I won’t be riding today, but plan a trail ride for Saturday, and I’ll see how he is then. In the meantime my Pegasus seems to have become a sinker.

Hooves

Champagne has a new farrier. She saw him for the first time today, and I learned a lot about hooves.

Champagne has been barefoot for several years, so his hoof walls are nice and thick, but she noticed some things she wants to change.

She said his gait is a little uneven (which I certainly have noticed riding him) and that he is high on the right side. That makes sense: he always wants to bend toward the right even when going straight, and has had a hard time picking up a canter left, probably due to the same thing. She thinks she can even him out a bit with his hooves.

Also, she said his heels are too high. (I picture him clomping about in stilettos, but maybe not . . .) She explained that because his heels are so high, he is landing too flat on his feet, which makes it hard for him to get any extension in his gait. As his hooves grow out and get trimmed again, she said the “bars” of the hoof will become more prominent, enabling him to stop better, and the lower heel will let him step out further. This would be a big help as I work on his impulsion.

She saw no sign of thrush, but a little separation of one of the hoof walls, which she said was due to his heel issue, putting more stress on the front. She trimmed most of the separation away, but I need to be careful to pick it out until his next trim.

I felt as if she really understood Champagne’s body mechanics, and I think the change to this farrier will be a good one.

Almost a Centaur

Work, work, work, leg yields, turns on the forehand, controlling spooks, more work on transitions between gaits, within gaits, spiral in spiral out, what a way to turn a hobby into a chore. All last summer, work, work, work. All winter indoors, work, work, work. Once in a while a pleasant time on the trail, but mostly: work.

Now I a seeing a payoff. (Not that I doubted, but still it can be dreary at times.)

So: yesterday my boy had impulsion (well, he still isn’t speedy, but sometimes the track of his hind hoof now reaches beyond the track his front hoof just left). My boy will come to a halt just from my seat and legs, no rein pressure at all. He canters on demand (well, he didn’t canter at the first ask going left, but got himself ready to respond at the second ask) and cantered on the first ask going right. He cantered on a 20 meter circle turning right without attempting (very much) to go straight. He is reading my leg and seat cues for the leg yields, and I can move him over just with my heel.

I had a small taste of that “one with the horse” thing; as if I myself had four strong legs and a huge heart and lungs, making running effortless. Just a taste, just for a couple of seconds, but what a trip!

Lightness of being

Nothing feels as good as finally having success at something you’ve struggled to do for a long time with many setbacks and side tracks and feelings of not being good enough. When you do break through it’s like sunshine and brisk air blowing in after a torrid muggy heat spell. Everything sparkles.

So that’s what it’s like now for Champagne and me. Every ride we have a good rapport, nice implusion even at the walk (with a few reminders), canter each way on demand (even on a 20 meter circle), spiral in, spiral out, nice leg yields at walk and trot, backing up, turns on the haunches, turns on the forehand; all just as if it was easy, natural, and the simplest thing in the world.

Part of the change I attribute to me finally getting a better seat, being much more quiet in hands, legs and feet, and in general having more confidence about not falling off. Part of that is having survived a few spooks of medium intensity and retaining my seat and regaining control. Part of it is also Champagne learning to trust me and listen to the aids, which has come after pretty much a year of practice. Cath says I am now an “intermediate” rider (whereas for the first two years I was a beginner: apparently learning to ride is a long process).

However, I am wondering if some of it is the change in Champagne’s diet. When I got him, I was warned that he was an easy keeper, which means insulin resistant and prone to colic and hoof problems. He ate hay, was not allowed much grazing on grass, and instead of grain he had a concoction of rice, flax and wheat brans, sunflower seeds, and various vitamins, hoof health stuff and easy keeper supplements.

The vet changed all that. He still gets the vitamins and hoof health stuff, but now eats a special low-carb grain. He loves it. Previously he would take a couple of mouthfuls of his soupy mash, but turn to his hay flakes pretty early in his meal. Now he rattles and roots in his manger just like all the other horses, and cleans up every crumb of grain before he eats his hay. He’s like a vacuum cleaner. He isn’t gaining weight, at least judged by the saddle girth, but I’m thinking he is feeling more energetic as the added protein builds him up a bit. The proverbial “feeling his oats”, I guess. Plus he is off the thrush meds and his hooves look great.

The two of us are happy, happy campers right now!

The Smell of a Horse

Why is every aspect of a horse so pleasing?

Yesterday I was especially enjoying the aromas. Of course there is the subtle scent of leather, which many people enjoy, and the fresh, clean smell of the flakes of hay. That’s probably best enjoyed by those without allergies.

But yesterday I was aware of Champagne’s lovely personal aroma. He smells like, well, a horse. I really can’t put words to the scent; I suppose if I were a wine connoisseur I’d learn how. It isn’t earthy, exactly, but it is warm and rich like soft velvet, and lustrous like a perfect sheet of dark silk.

And then there is the other scent: the billows of strong, sharp almost musky smell streaming up from a pile of fresh manure. I love that, too. Not that I’d want to be in a small closed space with it, but for gathering up and putting in a bucket, it is quite a treat.

Speaking of treats, yesterday after I gave Champagne his dinner (real, low-carb grain!) and he chomped that down he licked his salt block, and then came over and licked my arm! Maybe I tasted salty after riding. I was charmed. He may not be a people-centric horse, but I think I’m growing on him.

Canter right

Sunday I learned some new techniques to get Champagne to canter right on a 20 meter circle. When last I tried, he cantered left very nicely, and would canter right but not turn except to follow along the ring at the edges.

So: Cath had me trot in a 20 meter circle around her, and then slowly spiral in closer and closer until we were trotting on an eight or ten meter circle, then spiral out until we were back on the 20 meter, then in again. She also had me brace my arm against my side at the elbow and really sit back in the saddle so I can get a strong left rein (he is “running through my hands”) to control his left shoulder.

Cath also said to never allow him to go straight when I ask for a turn, but to stop him, then turn him. Otherwise he’ll think he can get away with choosing the direction.

With all the corrections, I did finally get a canter right on a circle. It remains to be seen if I can get him to do it when I’m there by myself, but at least I have things to try.

The good news is that I am getting a stronger seat all the time. Saturday during our customary cool-down walk around the perimeter of the property Champagne spooked three times at the wild turkeys, and I kept my seat each time and controlled the spook. A year ago I would have been on the ground; well, a year ago I was on the ground!

It's always something

Here’s what I’ve learned about getting a nice canter:
1. Be sure to warm up for half an hour before asking, with some nice long trots and some practice getting sensitive to my aids.
2. During the warm up, do whatever it takes to wake Champagne up; try new patterns of requests, try transitions between halt/walk, speeds of walk, walk/trot, speeds of trot, try backing, leg yielding at the walk and trot, turns on the forehand, serpentines; always change the sequence to be sure he is really listening.
3. Keep my expectations high; don’t settle for half hearted responses but don’t always be nagging him with my legs.
4. Be sure to get him into a frame, and remind him when he drops out. It helps his back lift and his haunches get under his body.

So now I am getting such a pretty collected canter . . . on the left lead. That’s his easy side.

My horse is not only long-backed, he is also built a little crooked. Cath and I noticed it especially on Sunday while Ken was riding, but we’ve known it for a while. I am forever having to straighten him even when we are trotting up the long side and there is no need for any bend. So it is harder for him to turn toward the right or pick up the right lead.

Yesterday all the elements were lined up, and we had such a nice canter on a 20 meter circle turning left. Canter when I asked, stop when I asked, canter again when I asked, and far fewer times when he decided on his own to stop cantering.

I also got a nice canter going right but no 20 meter circle. He turned properly along the short side of the ring, but as soon as I asked him to turn across the non-wall part of the circle he would break and canter straight. I stopped him, backed him up, cantered again, and same thing every single time. He was getting so he would stop after going straight and prepare to back up, like that was some new game. Yikes. It’s always something! How am I going to solve this one?

The good lesson

Sunday the riding was excellent.

A lot of things came together. I was able to get some animation out of Champagne by keeping after him consistently. He hasn’t been sustaining the gaits by himself, so I am always using my leg. No wonder he ignores it. After a few targeted corrections, he began to walk with a bounce and be ready to change gaits or speeds within a gait as asked.

I also worked on keeping my elbows at my waist, and sitting up and back even more than usual when asking for and sitting the canter to help my long-backed guy get his hindquarters under him and lighten the load on his front end. By the end of the lesson he was cantering nicely on request, all rounded up and pretty, and I must say he has a canter like a rocking horse, so smooth and pleasant it is like physical therapy to ride.

I hadn’t had much chance to ride last week, with lots of meetings after work and even a meeting all day Saturday, so it was pleasing and liberating to have such a great time with Champagne.

Ken’s lesson followed mine, and he is doing very well too, and now has even agreed to meet me at the barn after work on Wednesdays so he can get a little practice ride in between lessons. Nothing could be nicer; my two guys together on a pretty spring day with lots of birds flying around, wild turkeys gobbling in the woods, flowers or clean new leaves on every tree, the scent of newly mown grass in the air, and a feeling of strength and competence in my body.

The delight of horses

Yesterday as I was riding (we in Massachusetts had Monday off for Patriot’s Day) a dad and his two daughters stopped by the barn.

The older girl was about ten or eleven, and the younger was maybe three. The dad spoke with an accent (maybe Latino?) and said he had taken his daughters out into the country to look at animals. He said it is no good to bring up children inside the house all the time; that they need to get out and have contact with animals and the outdoors.

They patted Champagne, were very interested in everything about him, and had lots of questions: Did I own him? Did I own all the horses in the barn? Who did own all the other horses? Where could someone go to rent horses? What kind of horse is he? On and on. I gave them a carrot chunk to feed him, which was a big hit.

They asked if they could go over to the paddocks to see the other horses, and I said sure. So they wandered down and patted Thor and Neils, who were very glad to get some people time. Thor’s owner Mary came out and gave them a carrot to feed Thor, and they spent maybe half an hour soaking up horseness.

Meanwhile I finished my ride and went on a walk around the property perimeter to cool off. I met up with them as they were leaving. I asked the older girl if she’d like a pony ride. Oh, my, is that even a question? She asked her dad for permission, and he said it was OK since I had offered. So good, patient Champagne walked around the ring a couple of times with the girl on board, and the Dad snapping photos right and left. Then he asked if the little one could ride Champagne, just for a photo. Sure.

By the time they left they were just glowing, and the dad said their mother would be amazed when they told her of the adventure and showed her the photos.

I know what ecstasy such an event would have been for me at that age and I’m pretty sure the girls will remember that outing for a long time. I think sharing Champagne with others is pretty much as much fun as riding myself. If I weren’t so over scheduled, I’d love to volunteer at one of those therapeutic riding places. That really calls to me as a way to give back for my great good fortune in owning and loving Champagne.

Good for man and beast

I was reading the April Aging Well e-newsletter like a good little gerontologist, which was talking about probiotics. I was surprised to read this:

For many, the first encounter with probiotics occurred with Jamie Lee Curtis advertising Activia yogurt. She outlined how this yogurt has eased some digestive concerns related to irregularity. But my introduction to probiotics was slightly different. My epiphany occurred when my 18-year-old horse began losing weight and appeared out of sorts. Over the years, he’s been on and off an anti-inflammatory medication for an old knee injury and various antibiotics for other unrelated injuries. A veterinary technician suggested a probiotic supplement to help him regain healthy bacteria in his gut. After adding it to his diet, the supplement helped my aging equine.

This is from “Probiotics — Gut Reactions” By Jennifer Mellace, in Aging Well Vol. 2 No. 2 P. 12, available on line at http://www.agingwellmag.com/030209p12.shtml

Maybe this can help more older horses who are failing to thrive!

Smart guy part II

The WBH may also now be the World’s Smartest Horse.

Yesterday after my ride I had Champagne in the cross ties, waiting for Kathy to come help me put the chemotherapy cream on his lip. I could see he was anxious. His eyelids were crinkled up just like a person’s forehead would be if she were fretting about something.

Kathy said that as long as we were giving him a treatment he doesn’t like we might as well give him his worming as well. Last time he was very resistant to the worm medicine, tossing his head, backing up strenuously, and spitting out the medicine. He has actually broken cross ties by backing up and pulling.

Well, yesterday we showed him the twitch, and he very patiently let me apply the cream. Then Kathy funneled the worm medicine into his mouth with a syringe. He chewed and tongued, but swallowed and didn’t spit anything out.

It’s like he has thought it over, and decided that although he does not like the stinging cream and the worm medicine, he doesn’t like the twitch even more, so oh well, he’ll take the lesser of the evils. No fuss. Decision made, that’s that.

It has all been accomplished without ill feeling on either side, as far as I can tell. I have to remember that . . . Champagne has definite opinions, but if it is clear that the person thinks differently and is willing to insist, he’ll go along just fine. I so love that horse, and he is so teaching me lots of things I need to know to be an effective rider and horse partner.

Good news for the boy and me!

The vet saw Champagne again yesterday, to give him a booster for his immunization and to follow up on some issues. Good news all around!

She was very happy with the area we are treating for a sarcoid. I now will restrict the cream to just one small area every other day, and when the cream packet is finished, no more applications until we see what happens next. Wouldn’t it be great if that fixed it? Champagne was so funny. He strongly disapproves of having the cream applied, and we have had to use a twitch to make him hold his head still. Yesterday he was tossing his head and making it hard for the vet to look at the area, so Kathy, the barn manager, got the twitch and showed it to him. Suddenly he was willing to stand quietly to be examined; no need to apply the twitch at all. Smart guy.

Also, the vet has taken a look at his “insulin panel”, which showed a high, but not astronomically high, level of insulin. As well, she looked at the supplements we’ve been feeding him. (He gets no grain, poor thing, but an odd mixture of supplements, sunflower seeds, rice bran pellets, and flax bran.) The vet said we’ll wean him off everything but the joint and vitamin supplements, and introduce a special low-carb grain made just for easy keepers. For the first time in years he’ll be eating like a real horse, not like some kind of feathered thing at a bird feeder. That will make us both happy! And since there is another horse in the barn with the same issue, Kathy will get this type of grain for the two of them, and my feed bills will go down.

Tonight I ride! A three-day weekend is coming right up! (Patriot’s Day all Boston will be watching the Marathon, but I’ll be out on the trails.) Cath says Sunday I can begin using spurs! (I want to eliminate the use of the crop anyway . . .) so things are looking quite rosy right now.

The engineer rides

It is so funny to me, seeing the difference between Ken’s equestrian experiences and mine. I guess it all stems from having an engineering perspective.

I always have to remind myself not to keep looking down at Champagne. He is such a miracle to me that I always want to look at him, see how he is doing, and revel in the feeling of me-on-horseback. Ken just looks up and out to see where he’s going.

It took me maybe six months to get that change of posting diagonal right. Ken just does it, and it isn’t complex at all. He just sits two bumps and he’s up again. He counts, he posts.

When the instructor says, “use your right leg”, Ken uses his right leg. Me, I have to think which one that is.

He seems to be learning quite fast. All he needs is to have the task explained to him in a series of steps, and he follows those steps. Sure, he’s wobbly at times, and at times is searching for his balance, but his hands are quiet (even if not low). I’m learning a lot from watching him get his lesson each week. It is very fun for me!

Them wide open spaces

Yesterday evening I rode outside again. We did our usual routine in the outdoor ring, practice, practice on listening to my leg, being responsive to requests for gait changes, working up to the canter in each direction, staying in a frame, etc.

Champagne is no longer startled by the mirror, and seems calmer about the fact that by that time of day all the paddocks are empty of horses. There was quite a gusty wind, but that doesn’t bother him outside the way it does in the indoor with all the creaks, rattles and flapping doors. A man came with a truck to haul away the accumulated manure, and that was fine with him, too.

Instead of walking around and around the ring to cool down, though, we went out toward the fields. He walked along the road near the little hollow, and was fine about that (whereas the first time we went that way he thought it was seriously threatening). We went as far as the stone wall, and he was interested but not really spooky. He was pretty sure we would go see the cows, and was ready to fight me about it, but since my goal was to cool down, I didn’t ask. I just took him up the road until it was clear he was being obedient, and then very clearly asked him to turn back.

On the way to the barn I saw the beautiful great blue heron stalking a little pond for frogs and fish. He watched us, but didn’t startle.

There is something enlivening about being out in the world on the back of a horse. It seems to come from the cool air and the wind and the sun and the freedom. For a non-athlete like me, it feels the way I imagine it would feel to be physically gifted. I drink the energy from the environment and swiftness, agility and strength from the horse so it is as if I myself embody vigor and competence.

Even after I leave the barn, that glow lingers. Imagine: a high that’s actually good for you! Me and my critter; we’re becoming a team.

It's always something

Last night’s ride was interesting.

I’ve been getting very good turns-on-the-forehand, and with a lot of ground work Champagne’s turns-on-the-haunches have actually begun to succeed. He doesn’t have a lot of extension as his inside front leg crosses over the other one, but at least he moves his shoulders when I ask, which is newish, and can be achieved both from the ground and mounted.

Last night we worked at leg yields, which are coming along, although he tends to get over bent and slow. But last night even leg yields at the trot were working pretty well. I also got canter response both ways after a relatively minor struggle, and I can envision the canter depart becoming routine. We also worked at staying in a frame, and he is SO pretty when rounded up (I peek in the mirrors).

But the turn on the haunches seems to have fallen out of his repertoire again. Nothing seems to stay fixed! All in all, though, I’m feeling that slow progress is being made.

Canter on/canter off

We had a couple of nice rides over the weekend. I worked on getting Champagne into a frame, and I can do it for maybe ten minutes at a time, but that leaves me sweaty and huffing. I wonder if it is as much work for him? He doesn’t seem at all heated when we finish the ride.

I also worked on canter transitions, and he was pretty much willing to canter when asked (after being asked once, not doing it, receiving a correction, and then being asked again . . . in each direction). We did some transitions, all fine, and I took a break. Then I asked again and , he. would. not. canter. I think he thought, “Well, we did the canter portion of the ride, and now we’re done.” Oh my. Cath got on and he also refused her a couple of times, but he didn’t get away with it for long. He has me figured out, I’m afraid. Plus, I’m not as good a rider as Cath.

On the sarcoid front, Champagne has gotten so resistant to having the cream put on that we have to use a twitch. It is a two or three person job: one to hold his head while the twitch is applied, one to apply the twitch and hold it, and one to apply the cream. I really, really despise this process! Yet he needs the cream, and it is effective. The place where the sarcoid has been now looks like a pizza about the size of a silver dollar, and most of the warty tissue has sloughed off. Oddly, once the cream is applied he gives absolutely no sign that the area bothers him.

I’ve also been working on love puddle issues. Champagne still isn’t as people-centric as many of the other horses in the barn, but we’ve made some progress. He came several steps toward me in the pasture yesterday as I went to catch him. He comes to his stall door when I get to the barn and pokes his head out looking for carrots. When I groom his face I talk softly to him so he equates that with the pleasure of having his face groomed. I’ve also been hand grazing him. Next step: getting him to lean his head on me without bumping me with his nose.

Giant tick

I was grooming Champagne last night, and when I got to the area where his hind leg attaches to his flank, yikes: a huge swelling bigger than my fist, and just above that a swelling the size of a walnut with a bead of blood as big as a marble on top.

Kathy, the barn manager, said to wash off the blood and see what was under it. I did, and what was under it was something dark and weird, which everyone (big crowd around at this point) agreed was a tick.

I soaked a cloth in hydrogen peroxide and pulled out the tick. It was the size of a black sunflower seed and had not really gotten engorged with blood yet. I cleaned out the hole (it was a hole/crevasse I could but the tip of my little finger into) with non-sting iodine.

Since I know that diseases (including Lime disease) can be spread by ticks, and since horses do get Lime disease, I am concerned. Oh my. I don’t think he’s been vaccinated against Lime! However, it didn’t seem to be a deer tick, (they are the main culprit), because it was too large.

Having a horse is a lot like having a little kid, in that they are subject to all kinds of pains, illnesses and issues and they can’t really tell you what’s wrong. So you the owner/parent have to be eternally vigilant about injuries and anything other than normal, while needing to stay calm and matter-of-fact so the child/horse does not become concerned as well. Deep breath.

Working trot/rounding up

Last night, something clicked on my ride.

Last week Cath rode Champagne after my lesson to get him cantering a bit. I was feeling a little tentative to canter because of my still-healing finger. When I saw her ride him he looked gorgeous, all rounded up, neck nicely arched, poll the highest point; he looked like a seriously beautiful animal instead of like a long-backed run-of-the-mill horse. I asked her why he looked so great, and she off-handedly said, “Oh, I just put him in a frame.”

I was still a little reluctant to canter last night, but the ring had been freshly groomed and we were the first to track it up. He was listening to my legs and doing nice light walk-stop and walk-trot transitions, so I decided to try putting him in a frame myself.

Now, Cath has many times told me that you push the hindquarters forward with your seat and legs and gather up the energy in your hands through the reins. She also always reminds me to sit up straighter and sit deeper in the saddle. Well, I try.

Last night, though, I took a firm grip of the reins, which I had shortened more than usual, pushed with my calves in a rhythm with his stride, took the concavity out of my lower back, and rode.

At first he thought I was going to ask for a canter, but then he really got it. He put his face perpendicular to the ground, rounded up, and stepped into a very energetic working trot . . . and kept it up, both directions! There would have been a canter available, too, if I had asked. I could feel for the first time the sense that the power generated from behind was surging through his body into mine, and I was keeping it focused and channeled with my hands through the reins. This is a more energetic form of riding than I’ve been doing, I guess, but it also feels very cool.

Can I replicate that again this evening? Can I extend it to the canter? I guess I’ll find out.

Ground manners

My life is way too crowded. For example: yesterday after work I went to see my Dad. He was awake (not very common these days) and talking (well, talking for him is a few words at best, but the words made sense) so I wanted to spend some nice comfy together time with him and I stayed longer than usual. I told him that I love him, and he said he loves me, and that felt very good.

Then I went to the barn to spend some time with Champagne. I needed to put the cream on his sarcoid, and I wanted to work on his ground manners. (No time to ride!) Some of his manners are quite rude. He is given to balking when led, which is a pain. And he doesn’t respect my space at all. Plus, I’m not sure he is always aware that I’m the boss. So I got a nice long lead rope and I’m working on the issues.

First we do head lowering, which Cath says is submission. When we began this work he’d just stubbornly endure the pressure on the halter (I pull down on the rope with moderate force, and if he gives at all, I stop asking for a couple of seconds, and then pull down again) for minutes on end, very boring. I’m also giving him verbal cues, which isn’t usually part of the deal, I guess, but so far he has learned “pick up your foot”, “stand”, “no”, and “okay” (though I think he thinks “okay” means “carrot”). So I think he can learn “put your head down”. Anyway, he has gotten the picture, and with one or two asks he will put his nose all the way to the ground.

Next we work on leading. I’m trying to get him to follow me on a very loose rope, and stay far enough behind me when I stop. This I do by suddenly stopping and backing up, meanwhile twirling the loose end of the rope in front of me like a propeller, which he doesn’t like to get too close to. This is working only medium well, because he has figured out that instead of backing straight behind me, he can also keep his distance by backing to the side. At other times he still tries to walk ahead of me or change sides on a whim, or stop to graze or look at something.

Finally we work on moving his body around. I have gotten him so that he will move his hindquarters away from me while pivoting on a foreleg and stepping smartly across and under with his inside rear leg. I can get him to go rapidly in a complete circle, pivoting on his front leg. (turn on the forehand.) And last we work on moving his shoulders, the goal being to have him pivot on his hind legs while stepping smartly across with his outside foreleg. This one works, but his range of motion is pretty limited, and sometimes he tries to step his foreleg behind the other leg rather than in front. At least he is taking rapid steps, though.

I am feeling my way because I don’t really know what I’m doing, but it is kind of fun and less dangerous than lunging and less time consuming than riding due to not needing to tack up.

Meanwhile, his sarcoid is definitely changing in response to the cream. It is less symmetrical, and is kind of squashed in on one side. Yesterday for the first time he was not happy about having the cream applied. The vet said it would be irritating, and I guess she was right. If he gets too unhappy about it I’ll have to have someone help me hold his head while I put it on.

After that, home to gulp down dinner, and then out to a meeting. And the same for tonight! I won’t get to ride until Wednesday. I need to work to pay for the horse, but work keeps me from riding my horse. That tends to make me grumpy, so I have to mind my own ground manners. At least I have a secure job (it seems). Be happy.

Impulsion

Impulsion is step one on the dressage training ladder. I basically interpret it as rear-engine energy. A horse has powerful hindquarters, and that’s where the drive comes from. Impulsion isn’t so much speed as it is power-to-spare energy, ready to spring into action at the least request.

Champagne is an impulsion have-not. Okay, he has a couple of strikes against him. His long sway back makes it difficult for him to collect himself. Sometimes it feels like driving a semi: his front end is almost hinged. And he is “noodley”; the plus is that he is very flexible and bends easily. The minus is that he’s hardly ever straight.

I watched Cath canter him Sunday, and I noticed that he has virtually no hang time (when he is completely in the air with all four feet). This makes for a very cushiony canter and lovely smooth trot, but works against impulsion. No bounding! No jumping either, really.

On my lovely trail ride Saturday, Champagne’s natural walking pace was noticeably slower than that of the other horses. He wanted to be with them, but just couldn’t keep up. As a result, every time the footing looked good enough, we had to trot to catch up . . . and then immediately began to fall behind again. Sigh.

So here’s the thing: I need to get him moving forward a lot more, all the time. Right now he will hardly even do a working walk. He CAN do it, but can’t really sustain it. I’ve read a “fix” for that in training, and I guess I’ll be trying the *soft calf squeeze-response vs. soft calf squeeze-no response-big crop correction-response* thing. And I HATE to hit him.

Plus: I recently read that lethargy can be one symptom of insulin resistance, which I’m pretty sure he has. If I can get that fixed with some nice low-starch grain and the appropriate supplements, maybe he’ll be feeling full of himself and like a HORSE instead of a plug.

Trim toes/sore finger

The farrier saw Champagne today and trimmed up his hooves. He gets a special barefoot trim. I had noticed that his hooves were getting long pretty fast. Spring, I guess.

The good news is that there is no sign of thrush, so the treatments I have been giving him have worked. On the other hand, one of his front hooves has a separation, so I need to massage the Absorbine into that area to keep it from getting worse. It’s always something.

For me, it is my finger. Now that the break is pinned, I need to not ride until March 23 at the earliest, when the stitches will be taken out and I can get that finger wet again. (I don’t want to take a chance on getting an infection in the operative site, and after all, I am dealing with hooves and you know where they’ve been.

Rats, rats, rats . . . the weather is getting nice. Why did I break my finger just in time for the start of trail ride season? And what can I do to give my boy attention and exercise while I can’t ride him and can’t longe him?

Warming the cockles of my heart

What are the cockles of a heart?

But anyway . . .

I’m walking around the corner of the barn this morning.

The first paddock comes in sight, and the horse inside raises his head, ears forward, mild interest.

The second paddock comes in sight, and the horse inside raises his head, ears forward, mild interest.

The third paddock comes in sight and the horse inside raises his head very, very high, ears pitched as far forward as they’ll go.

The first horse returns to grazing.

The second horse returns to grazing.

The third horse remains on alert as close to the fence as possible and yearning over it with his head and neck.

Guess which horse is mine?

The Talking Horse

No, not Mr. Ed. Mr. Champagne.

And okay, not talking per se, but very plain communication.

I rode outside Saturday. It was a lovely brisk afternoon, and the footing was for the most part icy/muddy/bare ground. The conversation went like this:

Me: Let’s go down onto the grassy areas.

Champagne: Okay, but that’s a change in routine and I want to be sure it smells safe. (Rattles his nose.)

Me: You’ll be okay, we’ve been here before. No monsters.

C: Hey! HEY! You said no monsters, but I know that path leads to COWS. Cows are not okay!

Me: No, no, I won’t ask you to look at cows today.

C: Well, then if you’re sure . . .

Me: I am sure. Please walk on.

C: Are you watching out? There is that low lying woodland! There is an ice patch! I could sink in too much to this plowed field!

Me: I am watching out. You’re fine.

C: And a stone wall . . . .

Me: Just go through.

C: It might be dangerous.

Me: Just go through.

C: Oh no! Now we’re in a NEW PLACE! Oh no!

Me: Yes, you’re okay, keep walking.

C: Now we’re too, too far from the barn and besides! There is a frightful WOOD PILE! I am really sure you aren’t being careful enough. We better go back! I really have to stop!

Me: No, you have to walk on. (But thinking inside that we’ll turn around soon.)

C: How far? Because there is a WOOD PILE!

Me: Just a little more.

C: If I go sideways maybe it won’t be able to see me.

Me: You do need to walk on.

C: (Walking on) Yikes! Yikes! Yikes!

Me: You’re a good boy, and we can turn around now.

C: So can I eat grass?