My brain and my pocket book feel equally abused this week

I haven't posted in a long while because I've been so busy. I'm coming into exam time so other than riding all I do is study (except for last night when I watched Glee!! It is seriously the best thing to ever happen to TV!) Ponyface is doing well. We were in a jumping clinic which despite being on the coldest day ever and some lacklustre riding on my part, he was a total all star. The clinician liked him and said he was cute which totally made my day/week/month. It's really nice to feel validated some times, by which I mean I know my horse is cute, it's just nice to hear other people say it! hee.

So in addition to studying my brains out I am also trying to arrange to have Stormy trailered back to my hometown. I'm going home for the summer to work and save some money on rent. The only hassel is moving my horse. I'm bringing him back to the barn I work at in the summers and the place he was bred. It's a super nice farm and I love my boss/coach. She is actually my saviour right now because she is really orgainizing shipping my horse. I am eternally grateful for this because I am so busy right now just thinking about moving a horse hundreds of kilometers makes me feel ill. I am so happy that through horses I have met such brilliant people!

Also, my most recent woe is I had to fix some stuff on my car. It was really expensive. I thought my tax return would cover it but it didn't. It's times like these that make me feel like a shitty horse owner. I know if anything happened to Stormy I could go to my parents for financial help but this idea totally irks me. I am so proud I bought and keep my own horse through my own hard work and savings. I really skimp on my life style to afford a horse but I like it that was because I feel independent and accomplished and empowered. Running to my parents for money is lame + I feel this is my hobby, thus my responsibility. I start work this weekend though so I will be generating income again very soon. I have two more weeks till this silly school business is over so I just must think happy thoughts and eat Mr. Noodles until then.

A funny thing happened today, it happens every once in a while. I really enjoy déjà vu. Whenever it happens I get a little thrill mostly because I’m a dork, but also because it makes the universe seem small and humorous and special. When I was a kid I rode this Arab school horse named Jack. He was cute in a sorta pregnant looking scruffy school horse way. He was a little bit useless. He didn’t jump great, wouldn’t jump at all at shows and didn’t steer for all but the most gritty and stick with it lesson kids. I loved Jack. I would draw his beautiful dished face in the margins of my work books at school, I asked to ride him in every lesson, I spent hours dreaming of elaborate plans to convince my parents to buy him for me. He was my first love. Part of it I think was that he was the first horse I connected with. I wasn’t learning to ride, I was learning to ride THIS horse. He recognized me, I knew his moods, got pretty good at riding him and working through his little quirks. One of his quirks was two or three times at the end of every ride, while continuing to walk forward he would do the full body shake. Numerous children, relaxed and taking it easy after a taxing lesson, found themselves terribly rattled and sometimes in the dirt after Jack’s shake. He really put a lot of effort into it. I have never seen a horse shake with as much vigour as him, and he did it while still walking!

But he was the first horse that really challenged me and he taught me so much. I jumped my first 3 foot fence on him, I rode him over my first cross-country course. I once dressed up as Napoleon with the goofy hat and all and rode Jack in a local parade as part of a “Horses through History” themed float (he was the grey Marengo of course). After a few years Jack and I had come to the end of our journey. I knew him so well that he was easy for me and I was moved to new horses that offered a different challenge. A couple of years ago Jack was sold to his retirement home. It’s a great place not far from my work. I sometimes see him in the field when I drive by. They take great care of him and this super cute little old lady trail rides on him. It’s perfect. But I still feel like he was the one that got away. He was the horse that made me realize I wanted to ride forever, no matter what. I have done greater things on better horses but Jack is the one that I always come back to.

So the déjà vu, well, Stormy has a funny quirk too. The day I backed Stormy I leaned on the saddle, pulled and banged around, layed across his back, got on, walked forward a few steps, said “Whoa”, he stopped I leaned forward to get off and he shook. Full body, scared the shit out of me shook. I thought he was spooking at first but no, he was shaking. Apparently just the thought of being a ridding horse made him itchy, hee! He still shakes at the end of the ride sometimes, just before I get off. Just like Jack he seems to know that I am loose and relaxed and it’s probably the time when a sudden tremor will most unbalance and surprise me. He wiggles just like a wet dog, just like Jack. He doesn’t shake at the end of every ride, just sometimes, but every time it happens I smile because I am reminded of Jack. And I think about how in a small way I now have a tiny piece of the pony I lost long ago. He shook toady at the end of our ride while we were walking out. It was a little déjà vu. I’ve been here before, I love this horse, he’s a bit weird. I love this horse.

Coggins and dentists and halting... just a typical day.

Stormy had his coggins test done today. He was very mannerful and polite so I was happy. It was a new vet and I really liked her. She said Stormy was cute and so perhaps I'm biased but I really liked how she worked with him and the other horses in the barn. Also, Stormy has an uneven smile so I guess he's going to see the dentist soon. I haven't been to the dentist since I got too old to be covered under my parents insurance but I will happily pay for Stormy to have his teeth done as often as needed. I feel it should bother me that my horse has a beautiful view out his bedroom window, lots of free time to play with friends, the yummiest food, the coolest saddle pads, beautiful tack, the best health coverage and only has to work 7 hours a week. I live below the poverty line, in a cold basement, (with no bedroom windows, but I think this place is too damp to set on fire so that really is only an asethetic issue, not a safety one), I only buy groceries for which there is a coupon offer that week, and am currently wearing a hoodie I've had since grade school. But it doesn't bother me, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love having my horse and I really don't mind sacrificing things to have horses in my life. Everyday my horse makes me happy, which is not something I can say about anything else in my life. So thanks Storms and don't worry about it, I'll get the bill.

Today before the vet came I went for a quick half hour ride. Coach told me to work on our halts because Stormy stops but then gets all wiggely and doesn’t stay still. He stops easily but he’s at that “wanna go, wanna go” stage so I think he’s just anticipating moving forward and getting a bit ahead of me. If anyone could recommend any good stopping exercises I would be grateful!

Parenting

On the Fugly blog there was a post on parenting in regards to animal cruelty and kindness. I can't imagine what it would be like to witness animal cruelty in my own home as a child. It must be terrifying and those children must carry those scars into their adult life. I think that parents that are abusive and ignorant about the animals in their care are probably the same to any children in their care. It makes me sad just to think about it.

I was incredibly fortunate to grow up in a house with two amazing parents that were always kind to animals. My mom loves animals. She is easily won over by anything furry and pathetic looking. She recently got her first dog. He's the one in the picture above. She loves him to death. And she was so cute when she was looking for a dog to buy. She wanted to be a good owner from day one so she researched different breeds and visited kennels and called vets and dog trainers. He has almost consistently been in obedience school since she brought him home. Not becasue he's bad but because she loves teaching him new tricks and he loves showing off.

My father is one of those people that all animals love. Vicious gaurd dogs at constructiion sites bound over with tails wagging to meet him. Pretentious house cats who ignor the majority of silly humans invading their castels end up purring on his lap without shame. My horse nickers at him. He doesn't even do that for me! My Dad has that trsuting, gentle nature that draws both humans and animals alike in. And he respects them as well. He treats all animals fairly and affectionatly and I have never once seen an animal not respond to that.

I'm so glad I have these role models in my life. Neither of my partents are at all into horses but I think the background for love and respect towards animals they gave me has made it so theat I am comforatble in the horses world. Training horses requires such fairness and respect to build trust and responsivness. I don't think those things can be taught. I think what makes me a good rider is I am always asking how does my horse think? And how does my horse feel? And why is he thinking and feeling that way? With that mindset you can work through any problem all the while being compassionate to your horse.

It's not you it's me

This blogging thing is harder than I thought. Everytime I think about soemthing to write I getr worried that people will judge my opinions or that I might seem stupid. But no one reads my blog so I guess I am just being stupid. I have real fears about pouring my heart out into the ether though, its just spooky...

Alright, so Stormy pony. As of late I have been trying to develop more contact. Stormy is short bodied and compact and easily goes into a frame, I just have trouble keeping him there. He bobs his head and swings it back and forth and routinely pops up and hollows out. It doesn't seem like he's avoiding the contact. He's not upset, nor does he do these things suddenly. It's like he just can't keep still. For the past weeks I have gotten more and more concerned. I checked his tack, his back, his bit. Nothing was physically wrong and I really believe mentally he's ready to start going in more contact. He cheerfully drops down onto the bit when I ask and relaxes his back, he only does it for a few seconds though.

But I rode in a lesson the othe day. I had taken a month off lessons because I had been writing exams and then it was Christmas so riding sort of fell by the wayside. But my nose is back to the grindstone and me and stromy were ready to work. So we spent an hour following orders, working on my position, his steering and pace, we did tonnes of different exercises and I had little time to think. I just rode. Alas, 15 minutes after our warm-up and I have quiet, light, consistent contact with the corners of Stormy's mouth. He was relaxed and his head was still and I could feel him tracking up underneath me.

I took from this that I need to not worry about my horses head. I was told a long time ago by a clinician long ago that you do not ride the head. You ride the feet. When I was distracted telling my horse's feet where to go everything else feel into place. When I rode with my whole body, I had control of his whole body and my quiet hands made for quiet contact.

This is not a great break through in my horsey knowledge. I knew this before. It's so easy when riding to lose the big picture and get stuck on a tiny detail that really isn't important or will solve itself as long as you take care of the big picture. Which really is true about most things in life.

So thanks to my pony and my coach for reminding me about the big picture.

Worrying

Laura Crum posted about worrying. I commented and liked what I wrote so I thought I'd post it here. This is because it was so awesome the first time and because I am lazy.

I'm not really much of a worrier at all. From my perspective bad things just sometimes happen. Sometimes even if you played it completely safe you still wind up hurt. So I just live life and do what makes me happy and not worry too much because worrying is such a downer to me. That doen't mean I take uncalculated risks. I just think there is a differnece between observing unsafe situations and behaviours and creating "what if..." worst case scenarios in my head. In recognozing situations that may be unsafe you can logically work preventatively or reactively to imporve the situation. In the latter you may act preventatively and avoid the dangerous situation but you also end up stressing. And especially working with horses this is not a good side effect. Horses pick up on that and I think a stressed rider puts a horse on alert and increases the chanes of unpredictablilies.

So when I start to worry I fist ask myself why. I figure what it is about a given situation that is causing that fear. After I pinpoint where my anxiety is coming from I evaluate whether it is legitimate/likely. If it isn't and I'm being crazy I let it go and laugh at myself. If I do have true cause for concern I look at my options. Can I leave? Do I want to? How can I be as safe as posssible? Is it worth it? From here I can usually figure out what I want to do and how to do it safely. It sounds complicated and new-agey self-help-ish but it takes seconds and saves me loads of stress. Fear is important. It kept every single one of your ancestors alive in order to create you. It shouldn't be discounted but it shouldn't keep you from having fun either.

First Post

Stormy is a 4 y/o buckskin Connemara cross. He's approximately 15 hh and unbroke. Stormy is my first horse. This is the most awesome thing in the history of my life. I bought him this past July but really this whole story starts a long time ago.

So I was 8. Not a good age on me. I was chubby, shy and slightly unfortunate looking with crooked teeth (like need to remortgage the house and get an orthodontist on retainer crooked). Like many parents in need of activities for a small child on summer vacation mine sent me to horse camp. I rode a pony called peanut, or pumpkin or penny or one of those typical pony names. He was black, and shinny, and beautiful. I was in love. That night my parents were patient through hours of "Peanut likes carrots", "to go right you pull this string, I think its called rains", "Peanut has frogs on his feet", "Will you buy me a pony?" (Actually they endured that last one for years). That week at horse camp was probably the best of my young life. From then on my number one priority was to learn as much about horses as possible and become the best rider ever. Both things I am still working on and I am not likely to actually ever achieve either. So I took lessons, worked on horse farms, trained numerous green horses, rode some problem ponies and learned a little about starting unbroke ones.

Stormy was born at the farm I work at. I don't really remember too much about him as a foal. The farm bred CConnemaras so it wasn't an usual occurrence to have a couple foals born each year. Horse ownership still seemed so far away I never imagined I would one day be able to afford a horse as nice as him anytime soon. I do remember that he was moderately easy to worm the first time, moderately difficult to lead and kind of awkward looking. He was one of those babies that grow in spurts. His hind end would shoot up a few inches followed by his front end a few months later. He never really looked balanced until he was rising 3.

I rode and started a whole bunch of his half siblings and even his full brother. I loved them all. I would recommend a Connemara to anyone. They are the best breed ever and will excel in any sport. They are the superheroes of the horse world. I was so lucky to have the opportunity to ride such quality ponies. My boss lamented selling him. She liked him and knew I did too. So we got to talking and next thing I knew I was buying a horse.

I really wasn't in the best position to buy a horse but I couldn't pass him up. So I just bit the bullet and now our fairy tale begins. Our first interaction after he became mine went like this:

So Connemaras have limited respect for standing structures. Like fences. I can tell you this because at work I spend a great deal of time catching escapees and nailing up broken down boards. I have come to accept this as an intrinsic part of their behaviour and the one and only drawback to the breed. So I am out nailing up broken down fence boards between two paddocks (A speciality of Connemaras. They don't like to escape onto roads or anything,that's too dangerous, but breaking into other horses paddocks displays their disdain at your ridiculously stupid attempt at containing them while staying out of traffic and ensuring they still cause maximum damage and chaos). So Stormy and friends have broken down some boards and escaped into the mares field beside them. After the shit show that is sorting ponies during feeding time I had boys on one side girls on the other. Now I begin nailing up boards. At which point all the ponies decide to come investigate what I'm up too. I'm sure other horse people can relate: if you were hammering something in an arena where students are having a lesson that would most likely scare the pants off those steady school mounts. Start wildly swinging a hammer in a field and everybody comes to stick their nose in the way. So the boards are not going up quickly. I have about 8 ponies milling around while I use my limited dexterity to try and hammer up these 3 broken boards and avoid hitting my own fingers. I'm staring to lose my temper. Don't the jerks start a horse fight right over top of my head as I bend over to pick up a nail. So instead I pick up a handful of loose dirt and huck it at the nearest fuzzy face barreling towards me. That fuzzy face belongs to my newly acquired dream horse and the dirt hits him in the chest. This stops him. His friends stop too. I yell a few expletives and swing my arms around like a crazy, still holding the hammer. They realize I am unbalanced and Stormy is the first to turn tail and go down the fence line to munch some hay. In my first day of horse ownership all I managed to do was throw dirt at my horse like a child throwing a temper tantrum and call him mean names. Fairy tale indeed.