Resting Awhile

It's been a long time since I last posted anything.  I don't think it matters.

My adventures with my little farm continue to grow.  The farm has grown in size with the addition of eight more acres.  I also have two rescued Anatolian Shepherds calling the place home.  I have, for the most part, discarded the tongue-in-cheek moniker of White Trash Farm and officially renamed it Serendipity Farm.  Or as my friend likes to call it "Happy Accident Farm."

All the changes and added responsibilities have pushed my horsemanship further and further to the edge of my plate.  I have found myself missing the time I used to spend with Cricket before it was all about mowing and harrowing and mowing and feeding and mowing and mucking and mowing.  Did I mention mowing?  And sometimes I catch her looking at me and I swear there is part of her that misses it as well.

Part of my goal for this year is to go back to a place where I can connect with my horse and we can share, once again, in the partnership that we have built over the last eleven years.

I have not given up.  I've just been resting awhile.

Bored vs. Tuned Out

I know Linda Parelli talks about horses being bored but I'm not sure if I buy it.  Cricket spends her day nibbling grass, napping and swishing her tail at flies. How is it possible to be more boring that?  Seriously!

To be bored is to be dissatisfied with what you are currently doing and to wish to be doing something else.  I'm not sure that's a thought process that fits in with the general "in the moment" mentality of the horse.

So I just don't buy into the "my horse is bored" theory.  I don't even buy the "my horse finds me boring" approach either.

Any time I interact with Cricket, there is more energy and activity for the duration of our time together than she sees for the entire rest of the day.  Maybe even the week.  Unless there are a lot of flies.

So what is it?  Could it be that the energy we bring lacks meaning and clarity and as such the horse simply tunes out.  It's not that he'd rather be somewhere else but he'd rather understand what you are asking so he can respond appropriately?

I don't know the answer.  I just don't believe my horse is bored.

If I watch her when she's wearing her alpha mare hat, there isn't a lot of activity.  There aren't feet flying and teeth gnashing.  It's actually quite subtle but it is crystal clear.  There is purpose - focused intention - behind every action she takes.  And even in the actions she chooses not to take.

When I look at my feeble attempt at leadership and compare it to hers, I see what I lack.  And it has nothing to do with boredom.  What I'm missing is the focus, intention and purpose.  What I fail to offer is a true release.  What I miss is the natural rhythm of equine interactions - rest, initiate, play and a return to rest.  What I forget is that action must be sustained for a purpose.  Horses do not naturally move except with purpose - fleeing from prey, establishing the hierarchy and winning breeding rights.  So where is the purpose in what I'm asking?  Where is my intention?  Where is my focus?

Super Camp

So I'm slowly returning to reality after an amazing time at Super Camp.  I was able to audit part of the camp last year but my nanny duties kept me from seeing a lot.  I decided to sign up for the following year thinking it would be fun.  I had no idea just what I was getting myself into.

I really was not prepared for how this experience would stretch and test my horsemanship.  I'm pleased to say that Cricket was a total rock star even when I wasn't.

One of my biggest issues in riding with a group is Cricket's intense defensiveness of her space.  She pins her ears, can lunge and has wheeled to kick.  It looks aggressive but I know better.  Cricket is so overwhelmed with the responsibility of taking care of me because for so long I was such a poor leader from the saddle.

On the first day of camp, I mounted up and we were in the arena with about 35 other horses.  After a brief walk to warm up, we moved out into a crazy forward trot and made our way all around the arena, weaving through horses in various stages of saddling, cinching, warm-up etc.  It was crazy!  And Cricket was amazing because my focus was on going somewhere and taking us through the "minefield."  I won't say we were perfect every day - she did pin her ears and she nearly kicked the little Gypsy Vanner - but on the whole she was INCREDIBLE!

Another issue we have is trail riding.  We went out twice, wending our way down paths that had been mowed in the hay field.  The first outing was strictly walk, with most of the camp group, and we went down to a small obstacle course.  Cricket handled every thing I asked like an absolute pro.  Having never done an "in and out" she was one of the few horses to take it completely in stride.  Some of the "seasoned trail horses" refused to go in or rushed the exit but not my rock star pony!  We passed on the "scootch hill" - I'm still a little freaked out by hills.  Maybe next year?

I had a session about re-shimming my saddle.  We stripped it down to just a center foam shim and I love it!  By the third day, Cricket was noticeably less defensive about girthing and by the last day she was actually nudging the pad and saddle towards her back.  Pretty cool!

I have some brief notes - some thoughts collected through the days but most are from the last day.

• Phase 4 means "game over" - you get one touch and then it's back to phase 1
• If your leg = go, use lateral flexion then disengage, then return to lateral flexion.  When you do, change your energy AND your body position . . . neutral, active, neutral (e.g. sit back up - I kept missing this step and wondered why Cricket wouldn't return to lateral flexion)
• Circle game send - weight should be on the back leg; weight on the front leg=attack and causes your horse to come in and through you vs. out and onto the circle
• If your horse is moving, stop driving!
• Use rockslide, falling leaf, etc as purpose - get the energy up or as point to point; don't do it "just because"
• Under saddle, once you get the stretch, do something with it - snakey bends, etc.
• Circle game: energy for upward transition can be 180/90 behind the horse OR behind the drive line (for the more technical folks!)
• If you can cause your horse to engage, he'll offer incredible things.
• You need respect (the appropriate response to pressure) before you can truly activate "the game."
• "Feel of, feel for, feel together" can easily get lost in the complacency of familiarity
• There is not a brace that doesn't affect EVERYTHING you do with your horse

One of the biggest things I've learned is how heavy I've become.  I can start out light and playful but I loose that sense of fun through the game.  I was challenged, on many levels, to get my good better and my better best.

I signed up again for next year.  I hope it works out so I can go . . .

Back to Basics - Part 1

When I set out on my Parelli journey in 2002, the home study program went through L3. So that was my goal.  Achieving my green string left me a little lost.  What to do now?  Surely L4 with a LBI was insane and totally out of the question.  In the past several months, Cricket's extroversion is growing and suddenly L4 doesn't seem like such a pipe dream.

But I keep having this little stumbling blocks.  Like maintain gait at the canter.  Like circle at the end of a 45'.  Like execute a clean FLC on line.  In thinking about this - because I'm a left-brain introvert and we love to think - I came to the realization that if L4 is just L1 with excellence, I needed to look in L1 for my answers.  I decided to revisit Parelli Connect and work through the eLearning modules, looking at the L1 concepts through the lens of a L4 student.

What follows are some of my thoughts from the first 4 or 5 lessons.

Too often, I treat Cricket like a prisoner instead of a partner.
In reading the first lesson, I realize that too often I treat Cricket like a prisoner. No, I don't trap her or cross-tie her but have a tendency to get stronger instead of softer and I'm far too impatient with her. Need to start framing things like a partner.

Preparing to Play: Simulations
I don't know if I've ever made a program of simulations with my carrot stick. Hmm, how interesting! I lack precision in L4 . . . Could the two things be related? Methinks yes.


"Your [carrot] stick is attached to your attitude." ~ Linda Parelli
In my last Carol camp, we talked at great length about *intention*. The stick is an extension of your intention. So rolling this all together, if the stick is just my attitude and intention, C's actions in response to the stick are nothing more than her attitude and intentions about me.

I know that sounds a little garbled but where I'm going is that using the stick is not about getting a particular movement but offering an attitude and intention that creates desire and movement. If C responds appropriately to my attitude and intention then I'll get the requested movement but that flows from her attitude.

It's little wonder why on line was/is my worst savvy. I can use that halter and rope to either make Cricket do as I please or at the very least make us both miserable in the process. If the CS is an extension of attitude and intention - if that's what makes it a "tool" - then the halter and lead are no different. If I use the line to make her do something then all my "natural" just went out the window.

"Most people keep having the same problem over and over, year after year… which adds up to a lot more than two days."
This is the crux of my impetus for going back to L1. I have certainly spent much more than 2 days trying to cause Cricket to maintain gait on the circle, especially at the canter. I don't think we've solved it, by any means. But paying attention to *intention* and thinking about Cricket as a partner vs. a prisoner has yielded some of the most positive results we've had in a LONG time.


"When you open your hands, you release everything." ~ P. Parelli
The above might be a bit of a paraphrase as I don't have the scrap of paper where I wrote it down. Pat was discussing "hands that close slowly and open quickly as well as energy control.

So how many times, when I release, do I hold the tension or intention in my body? How is my grip on the line? On the stick? How is my attitude towards my horse? Have I truly released her into the movement or I'm I holding tension in critique?

Please feel free to join the discussions by connecting with me and looking for the eL-TotD (eLearning Thought of the Day). 

Don't Try, Just Do It

I will never forget the lesson in which I first heard these words: Don't try, just do it.

I was taking periodic lessons from a natural dressage instructor.  He had laid out a pattern for me to ride and when he'd finished giving his instruction, my reply was, "I'll try."  And that's when I heard those words.

How many times, in doing something with our horses, do we try?  We try to get out to the barn more often, we try to follow the Patterns, we try to be more creative, less demanding, more provocative, less critical.

If I asked you to try to tie your shoes, that request would seem silly.  Of course you can tie your shoes.  You don't try, you just do it.  But if I asked you to do it with one hand, would your reply be to do it or to say, "I'll try."

You see, buried in the phrase I'll try is the acceptance of failure.  Think about it.

Saying "I'll try" is the precursor to saying "I tried."  I'll try to get to the barn three times a week leads to I didn't get out there at all but at least I tried.

Don't try, just do it.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with failure.  And there's nothing wrong with fear.  Failure can be the gateway to amazing discoveries.  Fear is the mind protecting the body.

I'll try is not about failure or fear.  It's about the fear of failure.

The fear of failure stops us from moving forward.

I've been afraid.  I've failed.  I'll be there again, no doubt.  But I don't want to be afraid to fail.  Being afraid to fail keeps me in the arena.  Being afraid to fail keeps me walking endless, boring circles.  Being afraid to fail keeps me from being a partner and a leader.

I have experienced amazing things with Cricket over the last year and even more so over the past several months.  In large part because I've finally quit trying.

In the Dreaming

Several months ago I created a vision of a farm.  My farm.  I even named it.  Cooinda.  It's aboriginal for "happy place."  I knew it was real even though it wasn't yet mine.  In my dream, I built a place where I could simply enjoy my horse and have space, one day, to expand it to something more.

In the last several days, some doors have opened.  There is a distinct possibility that my dream may become reality much sooner than I ever imagined.

I have no idea how this is going to play out.  I'm going to try and trust my intuition.  I'll know it's right when I step foot on the property and it says, "welcome home."

Making it a Game

I have finally figured out how to make the phases into a game.

It's only taken 9 years, 3 horses, 13 clinics/workshops, 2 trips to the ISC, taking countless lessons, auditing numerous clinics and thousands of dollars to figure this out.

Yeah, I can be slow.

Here is my realization: You cannot avoid something that was never coming in the first place.

Let me translate that into Parelli-speak: If I never intend to offer my horse a phase 4 then she cannot play the "ha, ha you missed" me game because you cannot avoid something that was never coming in the first place.

Get it?

If you do not intend to go to phase 4, your horse cannot make a game out of moving first.

Get it?

I finally get it.

I noticed a huge change in Cricket after camp.  I started thinking about phase 4 before offering phase 1.  I got  very focused on phase 4 as I offered phase 1, 2 and 3.  And Cricket started offering more at lighter and lighter phases.

Sure, my intention and focus was better but the promise of phase 4 was now real.

And my phase 4 is not a "whack her, beat her, how hard can I hit her with the popper" kind of phase 4.  It was about delivering a kiss to the tip of the hair with a smile on my face.

The last time I played with Cricket, she offered me a soft, true canter at phase 1.  She offered me a soft flying lead change at phase 1 and she finally hooked onto my idea of cantering circles and settled into a beautiful forward canter.  It truly was a game.

Normal, Naturally

I have this thought gnawing at my brain and I want to see if I can get it out before it festers.

I read a Parelli Central blog post about "breaking horses."  It wasn't the actual post that got me thinking but rather some of the comments.  I don't want to pick on people but I want to explore an idea about normal vs. natural . . .

There is a pervasive idea that Parelli horses are "crazy."  You don't have to be a super-sleuth to find this out.  You simply have to Google Parelli and you'll find a host of anti-Parelli websites and people who wouldn't touch a Parelli-trained horse with a 10ft pole.

Parelli people don't always help this image.

It is possible to get so wrapped up in what we think is creating relationship and preserving dignity that we fail to realize our horses are brats.  Or worse, dangerous.

"He needs to move his feet."  Sure, he does.  But not while the farrier is up underneath him.  True story - a Parelli student allowed her horse to just walk off and wander around, leaving the farrier with a dumbfounded look.

"She's unconfident in new situations."  Sure, she is.  But that doesn't mean she gets to shoulder through the vet tech who's trying to hold her for x-rays.

"He's food motivated."  Of course he is.  But that doesn't mean he gets to pull the hay out of the barn owner's hands while she's trying to put out hay for the boarder horses.

"She's dominant."  I get it.  But that doesn't mean she gets to charge and kick when another boarder comes to get her horse.

Here's a bit of a news flash: Your horse may not always be under your care.  But . . . but . . .  No buts.  It's reality, folks.

My mare spent four weeks at the teaching hospital at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.  She had three major procedures and had to undergo daily sedation and nerve blocks.  While this may be an extreme case, it's an extreme example to illustrate my point.

I had ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL over the people handling my horse.  Worse, few vet students have large animal experience and some are very afraid of horses.

I remember handing Cricket's lead line to the vet student and simply saying, "Don't hold her close and trust her."  I couldn't explain the million things that had gone into her training and development.  I had to trust my horse and the preparation I'd given her thus far.

It is my responsibility to help Cricket get along in a normal world.  A world where horses are not seen as sensitive, emotional animals.  A world where they are expected to meekly obey every cue and command.  Where they are supposed to lead on a short line and stand tied and lead into a trailer and go into stocks and stand on scales.  A world that expects her to be "normal."


I train my horse to be normal, naturally.  I treat everything the normal horse world expects of her as a friendly game.  She will lead on a short line and stand tied and lead calmly through gates.  She'll back away from her feed bowl.  All the behaviors that make her an equine good citizen.

To make the world a better place for horses we need to spend some time making our horses better for this world.

Sometimes the Answer is NO

One of the important lessons I learned from my camp experience is that it's okay to say no.

But wait, you say.  Doesn't this contradict everything we've been told?  The horse is always right.  Don't make him feel wrong.

Well, yes and no.

Allow me to digress . . . years and years ago I read about a study done with children and fenced yards.  The researchers found that children who played in fenced yards were more self-confident, less fearful and more exuberant than children who played in yards without defined boundaries.  Hmm, how interesting.

My interpretation of this . . . The fence provided a clear, consistent and unemotional NO.  On the other hand, the children in the open space might freely roam into the neighbor's yard one day but be scolded the next.  A frantic parent might grab the child inches from tumbling into the street but later pull them back 10 ft from the curb.  Inside the fence, you won't find children sobbing because the fence is there nor will you find them constantly running into the fence, expecting it to move.  No, what you will find is joyful, exuberant PLAY.  You'll find kids running from one end to the other, whooping and hollering.  In the open space, you might find the children are hesitant to run, unsure of where the real boundary lay. And should the parents encourage these children to play, you might see hesitation and refusal.

So how does that relate to horsemanship? I'm sure you've already figured out where I'm going with this . . .

Every time my horse asks a question, it involves the boundaries of our relationship.  It's a little more complicated than a simple fenced yard but the basic, underlying principle is the same.

One of the exercises we did at camp was to ask our horses to circle.  No big deal except that it was at liberty in the big arena with 11 other horses around.  Every horse left - even Carol's.  Every horse came back with the "Can I come to you?" look and every one of us said, "No."

You heard me.  We all said, "No."

Because the game was circles.  And the horses knew it.  When Cricket left and came back, her question to me was, "Can I come to you?"  And my answer was, "Thank you for asking but could you please find your circle."  I don't remember how many times she left but each time she headed towards me, I thanked her and reminded her we were playing circle game.  When she found her circle, I said, "YES!" and brought her in.

It's difficult to say, "No."  But establishing boundaries and creating an expectation of responsibilities is more liberating than saying "Yes" all the time.  In my last couple of ground sessions, I've raised the bar and Cricket has offered more exuberance than I've seen in ages.

Of course the key is how you say, "No."  It cannot be authoritarian or dictatorial or emotional.  It must be prefaced with, "thank you for asking but could you please . . ."  You must have a clear idea of what you are trying to accomplish and reward the moment - the absolute INSTANT - your horse hooks on to the idea even if you don't achieve the final product.

It's okay to say, "No" because often there's a much better YES! on the other side.

Endless Possibilities

Camp was an absolutely amazing experience.  Every year I say best camp EVER and this is no exception.

I don't usually take notes during camp but this year I did.  There was so much great stuff and I'm glad I took the time to write it down.

Please remember that my notes are my interpretation, taken through the filter of my experience.  Nothing in this post is to be construed as the definitive way something should be done.

• It really is about playing a game.  Until you evoke the game, it's just "make" and you'll constantly be doing more and getting less.
• Phases, at this level, are about stealth.  Carol gave us the analogy of a hunter going through the woods.  If he crashes through the brush, calling "Any deer around here?" by the time he gets to the clearing, he's going to think there are no deer in the entire county.  You have to sneak up on Phase 4 so you cause your horse to really pay attention.
• Phases are about intention, not motion and commotion.  Phase 4 should be delivered with a smile and you should aim to kiss the hair on the top of zone 5 with the popper.
• When your horse knows your phases and is counting on the consistency, start mixing things up.  But don't just go to phase 4 every time.  It's got to be a game!
• Until you have a consistent canter at phase 1, you are working on snappy departs and not maintain gait.
• There is a big difference between a phase 1 canter and a phase 4 canter.
• You cannot hide behind your tools, thinking the CS alone will get you a canter depart.  You must have intention.
• Using the slingshot to invoke the game - slow draw towards and a speedy redirect, aiming the popper at the belly, just behind the elbow.
• Level 4 is about accessing the athleticism of the right brain with the left brain in control.  In the early levels, it's all about safety but in L3/4 you need to unlock the right brain and clear out the cobwebs.
• Getting to the right brain can get a little unfriendly - your LB horse, who thinks she knows everything about you, needs to learn your less predictable than she thought.  It's okay for your horse to be a little frightened.
• Put purpose to everything you do.  Don't do a falling leaf "just because" - use it to invoke the game or get more snappy or as a "consequence" for not upholding a responsibility.  Don't just go from one end of the arena "doing a falling leaf."
• Have a clear idea of what your looking for and how to reward it.  Stop when you get what you want.
• Once your horse hooks onto the idea, reward it and stop.  At least for a little while.
• Forget the horse you had yesterday, this morning, five minutes ago or even five seconds ago.  That horse no longer exists.  What horse do you have in this moment?
• Asking a worried horse to calm down only adds more pressure.
• Retreat doesn't have to mean going away completely.  In a new environment, retreat from one object by going away to another and another and another.  When you return to the first object, it's suddenly familiar.
• FORWARD IS THE KEY.  If you don't have forward, do what it takes to get it.
• Can you use your tools independent of everything else? Can your horse yield to the CS without your body?  Can he yield to the bit without your seat?  The key is intention.
• The horse must learn to uphold his responsibilities.
• Can you cause your horse to stretch forward into contact?  Can you cause him to stretch into contact and offer forward into that contact?  This is the key to real finesse riding.  It's not just about the headset or the frame but rather about the horse really understanding contact.
• The more your horsemanship develops, the less overtly evaluating horsenality matters.  You just know where to be, why to be and what to do when you get there.

I'm sure there's more but this is the nuts and bolts of what we covered during camp.  As I moved through the four days, I realized that I do not play with Cricket.  On the last day, during our individual liberty session, I found the play, not just in me but in her.  And it was fabulous.

Prior to camp, I had this idea the level 3 meant we were done.  As I think about invoking the game and causing Cricket to want to offer more, suddenly I see door opening everywhere and the possibilities are endless.  Here's to dwelling in the world of possibility.

My Dream, My Journey

My dream is my own dream.

My journey is my own path which follows my own dream.

My dream is my own and it is not concerned with your dreams.  My journey does not follow your path.

I am competitive by nature.  I don't like being left behind and I don't like being left out. As such, I struggle with holding onto my my dream and following my path.

I have started by defining what my dream is not.  I do not dream of becoming an equine professional.  I do not dream of entering the competition arena.  I do not dream of adventures in trail riding.

I am an introvert.  I want things to be intimate and close to home.  I want to reserve my energy and emotion for my passion.

So if I know what my dream is not, can I then define what my dream is?

My dream is partnership and willingness and joy and fun.  My dream is enjoying the time I spend with my horse, regardless of what happens in that time.

I want simply to be in the moment with my horse and have my horse in the moment with me.  When the day seems to call for lazy, undemanding time to just spend that time together and not waiting for something better to come along.  When the day calls for a spontaneous ride in the snow, we are together in our mini-adventure.

My dream does not preclude progress and improvement but strives to balance that with acceptance and peace.

I am delighted for my friends who are pursuing professional goals.  I am excited for my friends who are entering the competition arena.  I am happy for those weekend trail-riders.

But that is not my dream; not my journey.

My dream is my own dream.

A Different Take on Yes and No

In a recent issue of the Savvy Times, Linda Parelli wrote an article on the Minister of No vs. the Ambassador of Yes.  This theme has come up, in different ways, in various aspects of my life.

I've been reflecting on this and have come to the decision that, in order to say YES to the parts of my life I most want to embrace, it's time to say NO to some other parts.

I have no energy, no joy in my play sessions with Cricket.  All my "yes" has been used up and all I'm left with is "no."

I started saying "no" when I gave Bleu back.  It was a hard decision but the right one.  Bleu is doing so well back in her old home.  It's hard to read the Facebook updates and not feel like a failure but I know I did the right thing for me and ultimately the right thing for Bleu.

I need to say "no" some more.

I need to say "no" to some of the things that waste my time.  Like spending way too much time on Facebook or other meaningless games on my laptop.

I need to say "no" to some things that do not constitute good use of my time.  I may decide to let go of trimming Cricket's feet.  It's not that I cannot do it but rather I don't want to have the pressure of maintaining her feet.

I need to say "no" so I can free myself to say "yes."

I want to feel more joy and connection in my play time with Cricket.  I want to get out from under the pressure of finishing my L3 and I want to forget about L4.

I want to feel more peace and serenity in my house.

I want to use my time to get things done rather than waste my time and scramble at the last minute.

So forgive me as I put on my Minister of No hat.  Forgive me if I'm just not as available or flexible as I once was.  Forgive me if I don't please you as I've often done in the past.  Forgive me as I learn to say "no."  But if you are patient and forgiving, I promise that when I can once again become the Ambassador of Yes, I will be a more true and authentic person.  I will bring more light and joy and our interactions will be richer because of it.

Taking the Next Step

The decision was made to let go of Bleu.  She will be leaving on Tuesday to return to Mobile this coming weekend.  One difficult choice made.

Now onto the next steps.

I've decided to move Cricket from her current facility.

This is another one of those choices that was easier to make than to execute.  I've been at my current boarding barn for five years.  The owners are good friends.  They have been there when I needed them and gone out of their way to accommodate me.

I have come to believe that a dry lot situation is not in the best interest of the overall health of my horse.  My current boarding facility uses dry lots during the day with turnout at night.  It is unreasonable to even ask for the entire operation to be turned upside down at the whim and request of one boarder.

I am going to find a a pasture board situation where I can create an environment that balances Cricket as an easy keeper with her need for constant access to forage.  I've been researching paddock paradise and slow-feeding and I think it's the way to go, especially for Cricket.  It may be a lot of work at first but I feel the health benefits will far outweigh the effort.

I'm also looking at this as an opportunity to develop my skills at managing Cricket for the day I move her to my own place.  It will be like having training wheels!

I am nervous and excited.  I am fortunate that my barn owner is trying to understand and has told me I'm always welcome to come back.  I know I have a safety net and I'm forever grateful for all they have done for me.

Making Decisions

I have made the incredibly difficult decision to send Bleu back to her guardian.

I am so fortunate to have had her in my life.  She is an amazing mare and she deserves more than I can give her at this time in my life.

It's hard to put into words what I'm thinking and feeling right now.  The past several months have been unbelievably stressful for a variety of reasons.  In trying to keep all the plates spinning, I'm running myself into the ground.  The time has come to make some difficult choices.

In her short time with me, Bleu taught me so much.  She helped me see that being a leader is far more effective than trying to be a leader.  She taught me to see myself more clearly, both my strengths and weaknesses.  She graced me with her gentle spirit and her sweet kindness.

Though this ends in a way I never imagined, I am forever grateful she came into my life.  Every aspect of my life has been affected by her and I thank her for the gifts she gave me.

I thank God she has a soft place to land and I hope, with all my heart, she finds the place she belongs.  She deserves it.

What Would Happen If?

What would happen to your horses (or other pets) if something happened to you?

Do you have a plan or are you hoping the good will of your family will suffice?

This has been bothering me for several days, ever since I engaged in a small discussion following a status post on Facebook.  The comment thread took the general tone that it is up to the surviving members of the family to ensure the safety of surviving pets.

I just don't agree.

What would you think of parents who failed to name suitable guardians for their children, choosing to rely, instead, on the surviving family to decide what was best?

For my horses, I choose to be more proactive.  I choose to make sure they have a soft place to land, no matter what.  I am fortunate that Bleu, through her original owner, already has that safety net.  I owe it to Cricket to give her the same.

I have mapped out several options for Cricket should something happen to me.  I have a good friend and Parelli Professional who has agreed to take her.  As a last resort, she has a place with an amazing equine sanctuary where she can live out the rest of her life, in peace, just being a horse.

Not only have I planned where she will go, I'm working on providing for her care as well.  Partly because she's a bit of a special case and partly because it will ensure she receives the care she needs, she has an inheritance, so to speak.  At present, it's simply a bequest in my will.  As soon as I can get the details worked out, I will set up a pet trust.  For some basic information on Pet Trusts, including states with currently enacted Pet Trust laws, and alternative options, check out the Pet Trust Primer from the ASPCA.

This is not a commitment I made for my lifetime but rather one I made for the lifetime of my horses.

Many have forgotten this truth, but you must never forget it.

You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.

~ The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Snakes and Ladders

Did you ever play Snakes and Ladders?

Here in America, I think it's more common to see Chutes and Ladders but I grew up with snakes.  I guess that's a little more appropriate for the Australian Outback.

My horsemanship journey has become like one giant game of Snakes and Ladders.  And I think I've just landed on a snake.

If you were raised by wolves and are not familiar with the game, the premise is simple. You roll the dice, move the designated number of squares and the first person to reach the finish line wins.  If you land on a ladder, you advance to the top; hitting a snake takes you backwards.

Cricket and I have hit some good ladders over the past several months.  We moved from a relative fear and apprehension to confident cantering.  We hit a big ladder when I started cantering with one and then two carrot sticks.

We hit a decent snake when she started running for the wall.

I don't mind the snakes.  Not really.  I've been playing this game with Cricket since the day she came into my life.  Sometimes we make steady progress, avoiding the pitfalls and staying a relatively steady course.  At times, every toss of the dice resulted in a backwards slide, often going all the way back to the very beginning.  Other times it's been one quantum leap after another.  I guess that's the nature of the game.

It's not necessarily what happens when you roll the dice but having the courage to stay in the game, even when things aren't working quite as you would like.

More of What's Been Going On

I never did get around to posting about my lesson with Wendy.  Or any of the other stuff I've been doing this summer.

In early July, we hosted Wendy Morgan, 2* Junior Parelli Instructor, for a day of lessons.  I took advantage of being the coordinator and scheduled two sessions for myself.

We started with an easy session on saddle shimming with Bleu.  I had ridden shortly before the lesson and felt I was fighting my saddle the whole time.  The experimentation that comes with shimming is very much outside my comfort zone so I wanted Wendy to hold my hand a little while we played with some changes.

Here's what I learned:

• There are three main points to evaluate for saddle shimming: scapula clearance, muscle atrophy and rider balance.
• Evaluate your horse in motion, free from the saddle.  Observe carriage, head position, stride length, etc.  This is the baseline for anything else you do.  It works best with at least one observer but if you're alone, use a video camera to help you observe.
• If you already have a saddle and pad set-up, saddle the horse and repeat the circle game.  Notice if anything changes from the "nekkid" circle game.
• Take a good look at your horse's back.  Use a carrot stick to evaluate uphill vs. downhill and attach a savvy string (one that contrasts well with your horse's color works best) and drape it along your horse's spine.  This gives you a very clear picture of the shape of the back.
• There are only three basic backs: uphill, downhill and atrophied.  Yeah, it's almost that simple.
• Make a guess and pick the basic shim pattern. Nothing says you cannot change it.
• Observe the horse on the circle with the new set-up.  Is it better? Worse?  Remember, if your horse is introverted, it may take some time for her to relax enough to tell you what she really thinks.
• Experiment until you feel you have a good shim pattern.  Mount up and see if you feel better, worse or whatever.
• Once you've found a pattern that works . . . KEEP EXPERIMENTING.  This is the hardest part for me but it helps the pendulum really settle in the middle.

This was an awesome session and I'm so glad I did it.  First, we had some huge positive changes in Bleu's back.  I had initially shimmed her for an atrophied back but we just didn't see that this time.  When I changed her to a downhill, A-frame shoulder, everything just looked and felt better.  When I rode, I felt more in balance and less pitched forward.  I need to play with it some more but I'm not in a big hurry.  I feel more savvy and confident with saddle shims now.

Later in the day, I rode Cricket in a 2 hour Freestyle lesson with my friend Shari and her teenage daughter, Kim.  While we all had a slightly different focus, the main theme of the lesson was carrot stick riding with greater control and even a little precision.

I have to say, I was so nervous going into the lesson.  Cricket had been doing great but it was in controlled environments and with familiar horses.  I had no idea what to expect and I was just a little worried my expectations and ego would ruin everything.

We started just warming the horses up.  Cricket was doing well and I asked her for a canter.  She gave me three beautiful laps on the left lead, no hands on the rein, stick on the outside.  It was wonderful!

The actual lesson started with tuning up the disengage - making sure leg = yield rather than leg = forward.  This is something I've been working on and Cricket was very good.  Then we put it in motion, asking for a disengage to a downward transition.  We took this onto FTR and did some great CS disengage.  Even from the canter!

Once this was working relatively well, we did some loose figure-8, disengaging to the halt in the center.  The idea was to create a sweet spot in preparation for simple changes through the center.  During this exercise, Cricket got very snarky about the sticks.  I know part of the reason was me getting focused on the task and probably forgetting my phases.  At one point we abandoned the plan and trotted around the arena, swinging the stick in a high-level friendly game.

Wendy put us back on the rail and we did a "jump friendly game" by approaching low jumps and going sideways around them to continue on the rail.  This was great for me since I get very nervous about jumping.  We changed it up again by adding in yo-yo - either up to or after the jump.

To further incorporate sideways without drilling it, Wendy set up a sideways weave.  I opted to dismount to get my spurs.  We did the pattern a few times and Cricket was doing well.

By this time, I think Cricket and I were both a little tired and frustrated with carrot stick riding.  I decided to ditch the stick and just have some free-for-all fun.  Since it was the last 10 minutes of the lesson, Wendy just turned us loose to decompress.

Cricket gave me some great canter and some very soft simple changes.  Wendy snapped a little video of our ride and it was so nice to see how well we were doing.  Cricket is almost to the point where she'll pick up the canter from the walk and that makes everything smoother and more balanced.

Things have unraveled a little since the lesson but that's a subject for another post and something I'm not too worried about.  We'll work it out . . . just like we have everything else.

Summertime and the Livin' is . . . SWEATY

Summer time in the South is not for the faint of heart.  Walking out the front door is like hitting a wall of humidity so thick you need a machete to get from your porch to your car door.  I know the rest of the nation is suffering a stifling heat wave but triple digit heat indices are a way of life down here.

I don't like the heat.  I like the cold.  I can put on more clothes but there is a socially acceptable limit to what I can remove.

Even if I had the energy to ride, the look on Cricket's face clearly says, "Don't even think of putting your butt on my back."  And frankly, the idea of sitting on her hot body isn't so appealing either.

But camp is coming up.  Less than three months until my L3/4 camp with Carol Coppinger.  I need to get moving.

Cricket is shaking things up . . . again.  God forbid that mare give me more than a few days of thinking I've got everything working.  All our progress with cantering, freestyle and CS riding has hit a wall.  Literally.  Cricket has taken to running, at a good canter, straight into the wall.  But only when I have 2 sticks.  Hmm, how interesting.  Of course she's not so stupid to actually hit the wall and she's not so right-brain that she's doing this out of fear or lack of confidence.  Her sole purpose is to scare the sh*t out of me.  It's not working and I think that's pissing her off even more.

This has nothing to do with cantering or carrot sticks and everything to do with the balance of leadership between my horse and me.  I'm not sure how to convince her to fully turn loose to me.  If nothing else, I'm sure Carol can help us when we get to camp.

Despite the heat and humidity, I need to start a plan to get some things tuned up before camp.  I'm so excited to be able to show Carol how far we've come since she last saw us together.

Let's Catch Up

It's been awhile.  Let's sit and chat.

The six weeks have been busy but thankfully not too hectic.  It's not that I've been so wrapped up that I haven't had time to write.  I just haven't been in a place to put it all down in words.

I have a lot of changes going on.  Some extremely positive and some that are causing some discomfort in my life.  Still positive but not all good things are comfortable.

Things with Cricket continue to improve.  Our cantering is become much more comfortable and I've progressed to cantering her with one stick and even two sticks.  We've had some great rides and an absolutely awesome lesson with Wendy Morgan, 2* Junior Instructor.

I feel very, very close to being able to assess my L3 Freestyle.  The only thing holding me back is the feeling that Cricket hasn't quite turned loose to me under saddle.  I want to feel that she's more "yes ma'am" than "let me get back to you on that one." Early in our relationship, I convinced Cricket that I had no leadership from atop Zone 3.  I lacked confidence and was fearful, anxious and inconsistent.  I allowed her to set direction, speed and even control the duration of our ride.  My confidence has taken a quantum leap in the last year and I'm ready to be the leader.  Cricket isn't so sure . . . yet.

On the ground, she rarely challenges me.  Sure, she'll have her "I don't wanna and you can't make me" moments but we figure it out and move on.  That has more to do with her left-brain, introvert nature and my developing savvy than it does with who is actually in charge.

I'm not too worried about it because it's improving with every ride.  Even when she questions me or asserts her dominance over my direction, I'm learning to be patient and persistent.

Life outside my horses is going well.  I applied for and was accepted to graduate school.  I registered for classes and I start this fall.  I'm nervous about going back to school.  I've always been a good student and I loved college and graduate school.  But that was when I was a carefree liberal arts major.  I'm going back to get my MS in Management with a concentration in Acquisition and Contract Management.  Nowhere near as fun as Theological Studies.  But, as I discovered, there isn't much money in liberal arts and a degree in Management, coupled with my years of experience, should be a very good thing for future prospects.

The uncomfortable, yet positive, change is in my very personal life.  I am taking steps to become healthier and to lose weight.  Not an easy topic for me to discuss.  I'm intensely personal and introverted.  I've made some great strides but am going through a stage of self-sabotage.  I totally recognize it, know it needs to stop but am still sliding down that slope.  Why is it so hard to love/like myself enough to do what is best and right?

So there's my life in a nutshell.  I promise to blog specifically on my lesson with Wendy because it was just that awesome that it needs its own post.

Happy Birthday, Principessa

Today is my Crickie-Monster's 10th birthday.  She came into my life almost 8 years ago and proceeded to turn my world upside down.

Everything I thought I knew about horses and horsemanship has been passed under the microscope and little has survived.

She has pushed me to the very limits but never over the edge, beyond recovery.

In her stubborn nature, she's taught me patience and perseverance.  In her willfulness and dominance, she's taught me to be an assertive and fair leader.  In her disobedience, she has taught me to look beyond the surface and find out what is really going wrong.  In her mischief, she has taught me to be more playful.

And then when she softly yields, she gives me the gift of submission.  When she moves out under me and we fly through the fields, she helps me taste joy and freedom.  When she leaves her herd or her food or whatever she was doing when I call to her, she shows the bond of our partnership.

She demands perfection but accepts my flaws.

I love her in a way no person should love another mortal creature.  I am blessed to have her in my life and I am so thankful for all she's taught me.