So what’s it like for you? How does your horse husband/boyfriend/significant other handle your horse habit? Is there anything you do to ensure you can do your thing and keep him happy? What funny habits has he picked up on? What horse skills has he managed to learn? Jackie at regardinghorses.com asked these questions, so here goes:
My husband Ken started the whole thing!
Of course I was a horse lover my whole life. My mom saved one of the first drawings I ever made at about age 3, and it was a horse (with a ballerina dancing on its back; I hadn’t really decided between the two activities back then). But I never had a horse. I know a lot about horses due to my obsessive interest in them and reading about them, but we couldn’t afford to have one despite my constant pleading, and didn’t live anywhere near a riding stable, so lessons were also not an option.
But about three years ago Ken began a constant mulling-it-over kind of monologue. He’d just turned 60, and kept mentioning that since he was a kid he had always wanted a pilot’s license, and had realized it was now or never. One day I was kind of vegging out as he mulled, and I suddenly woke up to the fact that if he for sure was going to fulfill his lifelong dream, so could I.
I actually got started first, just about two years ago, by signing up for riding lessons. Oh my was I flying after that first ride. I did a shaky posting trot with a strap around the horse’s neck to grab onto, and the elation was indescribable. I felt like a helium balloon that had been bumping dully against the ceiling for years, and suddenly was let loose outdoors. I was high.
I think my euphoria was so great it tipped the balance, and Ken finally signed up to learn to fly.
OK, two years later: I have my own incredible horse, Champagne, and Ken has half-ownership of an airplane he calls Tyra, a little one-engine four seater. Since his hobby takes much more money than mine, horse expenses are not an issue. And his hobby also takes him away for hours at a time, so he understands about the time horsing takes.
The latest wrinkle: he is taking riding lessons on Champagne and doing very well. He remembers to look up and out (which I don’t, because I’m always feasting my eyes on the horseflesh). He is getting his balance, and has grown to like Champagne in a fond way, kind of like his fondness for dogs. We hope to go for a week in Wyoming at a dude ranch later this year. And I have been up in Tyra with Ken a few times, and have promised to take enough lessons that I could safely fly and land her if anything should happen to him while he was flying. Am I terrified? Oh my yes.
But when I see Ken all glowing from the inside out in love with his plane and I feel the same way about my horse, I know that despite the costs and the risks for two older people, we’ve got something good going on.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Yahoo buckeroo
Two days of riding this weekend:
Saturday was bright and windy, so I rode around the grassy areas to get Champagne used to the ground he’ll need to cross to get to the trails. Later we were joined by another woman and her horse, and she wanted to go look at the cows. Cows?
It turns out that just behind the barn property there is a farm with cows. So we rode over there and looked at the. dread. cows. I’m not sure if Champagne has ever seen a cow before, and these cows were very curious about the horses. They all ran to the fence. Champagne and Shay (the other horse) took turns walking a bit further, taking the lead, and then stopping and snorting and looking, all heads up. We progressed in kind of a leap frog fashion around the edge of the field, and had to walk by: A silo! A tractor! A greenhouse kind of thing with flapping fabric! All these things were semi-alarming, but nothing was as completely horrendous as the cows. On the way back we nearly bolted, but not quite.
When we got back to the barn, someone was pulling up with a horse in a trailer. Great excitement. Lots of rattley snorts and dancing about and circling. After the other horse was unloaded, Champagne clearly thought, “Looks like I’m going for a ride!” He tried really hard to get into the trailer. Very cute.
On Sunday, Ken rode for half an hour as a warm-up, and is progressing very fast. He is learning to get Champagne to pay attention to his legs, and is finding his balance much better. He actually got a bit sweaty from trotting. After that I decided to lunge Champagne to see if I could get a handle on the no-right-canter thing.
I had him circle right first, and when I asked for the canter, he really didn’t want to do it. I kept asking, and finally I cracked the whip behind him, and that got him into gear. But it wasn’t a smooth canter. It was full of bucks and leaps clear off the ground. I kept after him until he produced a very nice rapid canter steadily around me. Two good things: I was able to keep him from taking off to the other end of the ring, and I was able to keep myself centered in one spot while he did all the work. After success that way, we also worked the other way, and the only issue was that once cantering he wouldn’t drop back into the trot. We worked that a few times, and things went well.
I did ride him after that, but he was very hot, so we just trotted. I chickened out of asking for a canter either way. I know I should have, but truly I don’t want to ride those bucks. For a sleepy, calm guy, Champagne has a LOT of fire inside.
Saturday was bright and windy, so I rode around the grassy areas to get Champagne used to the ground he’ll need to cross to get to the trails. Later we were joined by another woman and her horse, and she wanted to go look at the cows. Cows?
It turns out that just behind the barn property there is a farm with cows. So we rode over there and looked at the. dread. cows. I’m not sure if Champagne has ever seen a cow before, and these cows were very curious about the horses. They all ran to the fence. Champagne and Shay (the other horse) took turns walking a bit further, taking the lead, and then stopping and snorting and looking, all heads up. We progressed in kind of a leap frog fashion around the edge of the field, and had to walk by: A silo! A tractor! A greenhouse kind of thing with flapping fabric! All these things were semi-alarming, but nothing was as completely horrendous as the cows. On the way back we nearly bolted, but not quite.
When we got back to the barn, someone was pulling up with a horse in a trailer. Great excitement. Lots of rattley snorts and dancing about and circling. After the other horse was unloaded, Champagne clearly thought, “Looks like I’m going for a ride!” He tried really hard to get into the trailer. Very cute.
On Sunday, Ken rode for half an hour as a warm-up, and is progressing very fast. He is learning to get Champagne to pay attention to his legs, and is finding his balance much better. He actually got a bit sweaty from trotting. After that I decided to lunge Champagne to see if I could get a handle on the no-right-canter thing.
I had him circle right first, and when I asked for the canter, he really didn’t want to do it. I kept asking, and finally I cracked the whip behind him, and that got him into gear. But it wasn’t a smooth canter. It was full of bucks and leaps clear off the ground. I kept after him until he produced a very nice rapid canter steadily around me. Two good things: I was able to keep him from taking off to the other end of the ring, and I was able to keep myself centered in one spot while he did all the work. After success that way, we also worked the other way, and the only issue was that once cantering he wouldn’t drop back into the trot. We worked that a few times, and things went well.
I did ride him after that, but he was very hot, so we just trotted. I chickened out of asking for a canter either way. I know I should have, but truly I don’t want to ride those bucks. For a sleepy, calm guy, Champagne has a LOT of fire inside.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Half-good canter
I have a smart horse, but that’s not always so good.
A good example of when it is good: learning after two repetitions not to nip at other horses passing his stall.
A good example of when it is bad: figuring out my asking for a canter and developing a less desirable response. In evidence last night.
After the warm up and all, Champagne is perfectly willing to canter left whenever I ask. That’s his preferred direction. He seems to have an asymmetrical body, and it is easy for him to bend to the left (in fact, it is easy to OVER bend to the left, and even when we are tracking straight he has to be reminded to not bend a bit left.) But canter is easy, ask-and-ye-shall-receive, it just works.
HOWEVER, canter right is a no-show. In lessons, Cath has been saying that when he fails to canter, return him to the trot and steady him, give him a couple of taps with the crop for the correction, and ask again. Also, to ask entering the corner since then it is easier for him to pick up the correct lead.
My smart horse has figured out that the ask will come entering the corners, and he slows his trot . . . or even slows to a walk! He also has figured out that the correction will come as we exit the corner, and he begins to crab sideways with his butt into the ring and get ready to kick as a response to the correction. This has gotten so bad that now he crabs sideways all across the short side, which puts him in completely the wrong position to ask for the canter at the next corner.
Cath has offered to give him tune-up rides to school him better, but I haven’t taken her up on it yet. He’s smart enough that he will learn he has to behave properly for her, but not for me. Plus it just seems odd to have to pay someone to ride my horse.
Meanwhile I guess that if I want to canter, I better want to go left!
A good example of when it is good: learning after two repetitions not to nip at other horses passing his stall.
A good example of when it is bad: figuring out my asking for a canter and developing a less desirable response. In evidence last night.
After the warm up and all, Champagne is perfectly willing to canter left whenever I ask. That’s his preferred direction. He seems to have an asymmetrical body, and it is easy for him to bend to the left (in fact, it is easy to OVER bend to the left, and even when we are tracking straight he has to be reminded to not bend a bit left.) But canter is easy, ask-and-ye-shall-receive, it just works.
HOWEVER, canter right is a no-show. In lessons, Cath has been saying that when he fails to canter, return him to the trot and steady him, give him a couple of taps with the crop for the correction, and ask again. Also, to ask entering the corner since then it is easier for him to pick up the correct lead.
My smart horse has figured out that the ask will come entering the corners, and he slows his trot . . . or even slows to a walk! He also has figured out that the correction will come as we exit the corner, and he begins to crab sideways with his butt into the ring and get ready to kick as a response to the correction. This has gotten so bad that now he crabs sideways all across the short side, which puts him in completely the wrong position to ask for the canter at the next corner.
Cath has offered to give him tune-up rides to school him better, but I haven’t taken her up on it yet. He’s smart enough that he will learn he has to behave properly for her, but not for me. Plus it just seems odd to have to pay someone to ride my horse.
Meanwhile I guess that if I want to canter, I better want to go left!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Lightness of being
I rode Champagne outside yesterday, for only the second time since November. This has been a tough winter. I guess I might have been able to ride him in the snow over the holidays, but I was very new to the barn and not sure of the terrain. I didn’t want to risk having him step in a hole or flounder into a creek. Then we had all that ice, and he was having some trouble just making it from the barn to the paddock without falling down. Clearly, having me on top would just have made matters worse.
Once I did try to go out on the trails with a group, but that day Champagne was all distraught and not listening to me . . . just a series of, “OH NO, there is a narrow place on the trail! Oh NO, there is a little hollow with some TREES! Oh NO, a dreadful STONE WALL!!” I decided to turn back rather than fight with him and maybe have him bolt and get injured.
Yesterday we went out with the goal of just riding around the grassy areas below the paddocks to accustom him to the surroundings. By now he’s been out enough that he has had a chance to look over the fields from several angles, and the snow has melted enough that it is clear where the little streams are located. I happened to run into Shea’s owner, who wanted to do the same thing, and Shea and Champagne are calm with each other, so we both went out.
The sky was wide and high and clean-slate blue. The grass was golden and green. The slender waterways were free enough of ice that I could hear their little chuckling sounds. There were a variety of surfaces to walk on; hills, gravel, squishy semi-mud, ice, crusty (but not deep) snow, grass, and the field that had been plowed and planted last year. Many of the other horses were out in the paddocks, running and playing. All in all, lots of alive distractions and sweet brisk air.
Amazing! The WBH was perfect. He went where I asked, followed Shea if I asked but turned away when asked, stayed interested but calm, and most amazingly was responsive to my legs in a way I don’t remember him being before. If I wanted trot, (which I did just once, for a test) we had trot. If I wanted to walk across the narrow culvert over a stream, OK, we did. If I wanted to walk through a long patch of crusty snow, he asked, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” I said, and walk through we did.
So: all the leg work and transitions from gait to gait and within each gait to different speeds seems to have paid off big time! My boy and I seem well positioned to have a great series of trail rides as soon as it gets less icy on the main trails. Schooling in the indoor can, I admit, get boring and sometimes it seems I am getting nowhere. This one day outside was a major payoff. Yes! This is what I’m doing all this for.
Once I did try to go out on the trails with a group, but that day Champagne was all distraught and not listening to me . . . just a series of, “OH NO, there is a narrow place on the trail! Oh NO, there is a little hollow with some TREES! Oh NO, a dreadful STONE WALL!!” I decided to turn back rather than fight with him and maybe have him bolt and get injured.
Yesterday we went out with the goal of just riding around the grassy areas below the paddocks to accustom him to the surroundings. By now he’s been out enough that he has had a chance to look over the fields from several angles, and the snow has melted enough that it is clear where the little streams are located. I happened to run into Shea’s owner, who wanted to do the same thing, and Shea and Champagne are calm with each other, so we both went out.
The sky was wide and high and clean-slate blue. The grass was golden and green. The slender waterways were free enough of ice that I could hear their little chuckling sounds. There were a variety of surfaces to walk on; hills, gravel, squishy semi-mud, ice, crusty (but not deep) snow, grass, and the field that had been plowed and planted last year. Many of the other horses were out in the paddocks, running and playing. All in all, lots of alive distractions and sweet brisk air.
Amazing! The WBH was perfect. He went where I asked, followed Shea if I asked but turned away when asked, stayed interested but calm, and most amazingly was responsive to my legs in a way I don’t remember him being before. If I wanted trot, (which I did just once, for a test) we had trot. If I wanted to walk across the narrow culvert over a stream, OK, we did. If I wanted to walk through a long patch of crusty snow, he asked, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” I said, and walk through we did.
So: all the leg work and transitions from gait to gait and within each gait to different speeds seems to have paid off big time! My boy and I seem well positioned to have a great series of trail rides as soon as it gets less icy on the main trails. Schooling in the indoor can, I admit, get boring and sometimes it seems I am getting nowhere. This one day outside was a major payoff. Yes! This is what I’m doing all this for.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Mr. Spooky
The big wind blew through last night. You know, the one that spawned all those tornadoes in Oklahoma, the one that had hurricane-strength gusts taking down trees all around here.
The wind was shaking the barn, and although the barn door slide open parallel to the barn walls, last night they were flapping in and out, which they aren’t designed to do. The Plexiglas panels in the windows were rattling in their frames, and every once in a while there would be an unexplained thunk or crash.
Champagne was very dubious about entering the indoor, quite sure he didn’t want to walk too close to the windows, and rattley-snorting with every step. He may be a calm, phlegmatic horse but he has definite opinions, and his opinion was “This is WAY too dangerous.”
We did our usual routine, warming up with some leg yields, walk-stop transitions, backing up, turns on the forehand, then trotting and walk-trot transitions and changes of tempo within the trot all to get him listening to my leg, but every once in a while Mr. Bomb-Proof would spook sideways a few steps.
Not that it’s a good thing, but hey! I stayed in the saddle, nice and upright, balanced enough to use the reins and my weight to bring things back into control, and was able to continue trotting and even cantering. When I think about last year in the spring, when a sideways spook dumped me, broke my finger, and reinjured my sacrum, I realize I have come a long way as a rider (my beautiful dressage saddle should get some of the credit too, of course.)
The wind was shaking the barn, and although the barn door slide open parallel to the barn walls, last night they were flapping in and out, which they aren’t designed to do. The Plexiglas panels in the windows were rattling in their frames, and every once in a while there would be an unexplained thunk or crash.
Champagne was very dubious about entering the indoor, quite sure he didn’t want to walk too close to the windows, and rattley-snorting with every step. He may be a calm, phlegmatic horse but he has definite opinions, and his opinion was “This is WAY too dangerous.”
We did our usual routine, warming up with some leg yields, walk-stop transitions, backing up, turns on the forehand, then trotting and walk-trot transitions and changes of tempo within the trot all to get him listening to my leg, but every once in a while Mr. Bomb-Proof would spook sideways a few steps.
Not that it’s a good thing, but hey! I stayed in the saddle, nice and upright, balanced enough to use the reins and my weight to bring things back into control, and was able to continue trotting and even cantering. When I think about last year in the spring, when a sideways spook dumped me, broke my finger, and reinjured my sacrum, I realize I have come a long way as a rider (my beautiful dressage saddle should get some of the credit too, of course.)
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