Sometimes it's easy
15 May 2010 23:51Cherry blossom drifted across the lane as Zorro and strolled down towards the common today, somewhat in the style of a japanese painting. The blossom, I mean, not the ambling. We had some time and some sunshine this afternoon and having gone for a little ride on Xefira in the morning the afternoon belonged to Zorro and I. We padded out onto the common and then took a slightly different route to any we've taken before, not entirely on familiar trails but largely through places we've been once or twice before, out onto Hankley Common, which is a little further away but a lot more hilly and scenic. Also it is very close to my parents' house so I grew up walking and mountain biking on those trails and they are very familiar to me.
Hankley Common was requisitioned by the army, I believe during World War Two and it remains a military training area. Some weekends you will run into full on exercises and often during the week you can hear gunfire from the common. They are only firing blank rounds, but that does mean you'll sometimes find yourself passing through as they are setting up an ambush around a trail. Not so bad on a bike, potentially scary on a horse.
As we came over the top of a hill that affords broad views across one side of the common Zorro heard movement on the opposite hillside and totally refused to take a step down the trail into the valley. He then preceded to stare intently at the forest and more or less ignore me until someone in camouflage appeared from the cover of the trees and availed themselves of the army portaloo at the bottom of the hill. At that point I figured we were probably better going around a different route, because I'd prefer not to find myself walking through the aforementioned ambush scenario and Zorro, clearly feeling vindicated in his refusal to go down the hill, decided that it was time to buck me off and make for home. I closed the bucking down but there was clearly a lot of anxiety in him so I decided to hop off and just work through it from the ground, let him get that movement out of him before we tried one of the trails off the hilltop because honestly I don't know how safe either of us would be if he started bucking half way down one of those.
He was actually pretty good on the ground and after a few circles and a bit of discussion I figured I could safely get back on. Zorro - as has happened a few times in the past - decided I couldn't get back on. He had other things on his mind. Eating the sparse heather on the ground, wandering off to look at the scenery, pretty much anything aside from letting me back on. He even cow-kicked a couple of times although whether it was at me or just at the flies around his tummy I don't know.
It's happened before and I've not really been in a physical location where I could work through what it took to get back on, but today we were on a broad, level hilltop and so I could and I did. I'm not proud of how I worked- it was one of the few times that Zorro has actually provoked me towards anger. I don't like to be angry but the sheer frustration and disappointment that after all this time and work we still find ourselves back here. Consequently if as I prepared to step on he started grazing he got to trot or canter a few circles, if he stepped away as I went to get on he would find himself running backwards, fast, for at least ten metres. It didn't take that long to change things around so he could find his patience again but it felt like an age. I think for a moment there he was a little afraid of me. Once I was back on we had a break and a breather, remembered that we could be friends again and set off on what seemed to me the most likely to be army-free route home.
The route had a large group in camo fanned out across and around it. I turned back and chose again, taking us up a very steep hill I was once to afraid to cycle down and later used to ride routinely. Zorro's energy was picking up again by this point and he surged up it, taking the tree roots like steps on a cross country course. The feeling of power was amazing and at the top of the hill we were not far from a route that would definitely be free.
We were also in the middle of a large camp of dark green tents, land rovers and at least fifty army cadets. Surprisingly after our previous adventures Zorro went past looking at them and slightly going sideways, very tense but still with me and fairly calm. Beyond that we were on clear trails. A cyclist with a dog appeared at the junction ahead and turned down the trail away from us. We trotted after them and the dog came dashing back to bark at Zorro. Dad was half way through apologising for Pippa's behaviour when he realised who it was, so we rode along with him on his bike and Pippa keeping a distance from us and barking from time to time. Zorro is fine with bicycles, it seems.
The rest of the journey home was quite uneventful- back on the common we normally ride across, Zorro wanted to get home as fast as possible and I let him run for a while. It turns out I can sit his bucks more smoothly than his fast canter at this point. As we ambled up the road to the yard, back in our safe zone again, the sound of gunfire suggested that we had been correct to avoid the cadet groups.
By the time we got home we'd covered about seven miles and I was absolutely exhausted. Also demoralised. One thing that riding Xefira has really brought home to me is how great it is to ride a horse that is enjoyable to ride out alone. It leaves me wondering whether I'll ever be good enough to get Zorro working as a solo trail horse or perhaps more pertinently whether Zorro is the kind of horse that even could become one, because if he isn't then I'm actually being cruel in asking him to do that for me. Who would I have to become in order to be the person he could trust in that situation? Because it seems as though although he likes me I think as well as he has ever liked any human, the only person whose judgement he really trusts is Zorro.
At least riding other horses whenever I can reminds me that he genuinely is an exceptionally difficult horse to work with and riding him in the school reminds me that he is a brilliant horse in so many respects, but once we're out on the trails, for all the progress we have made in the last year or so, there is so much further to go.
Hankley Common was requisitioned by the army, I believe during World War Two and it remains a military training area. Some weekends you will run into full on exercises and often during the week you can hear gunfire from the common. They are only firing blank rounds, but that does mean you'll sometimes find yourself passing through as they are setting up an ambush around a trail. Not so bad on a bike, potentially scary on a horse.
As we came over the top of a hill that affords broad views across one side of the common Zorro heard movement on the opposite hillside and totally refused to take a step down the trail into the valley. He then preceded to stare intently at the forest and more or less ignore me until someone in camouflage appeared from the cover of the trees and availed themselves of the army portaloo at the bottom of the hill. At that point I figured we were probably better going around a different route, because I'd prefer not to find myself walking through the aforementioned ambush scenario and Zorro, clearly feeling vindicated in his refusal to go down the hill, decided that it was time to buck me off and make for home. I closed the bucking down but there was clearly a lot of anxiety in him so I decided to hop off and just work through it from the ground, let him get that movement out of him before we tried one of the trails off the hilltop because honestly I don't know how safe either of us would be if he started bucking half way down one of those.
He was actually pretty good on the ground and after a few circles and a bit of discussion I figured I could safely get back on. Zorro - as has happened a few times in the past - decided I couldn't get back on. He had other things on his mind. Eating the sparse heather on the ground, wandering off to look at the scenery, pretty much anything aside from letting me back on. He even cow-kicked a couple of times although whether it was at me or just at the flies around his tummy I don't know.
It's happened before and I've not really been in a physical location where I could work through what it took to get back on, but today we were on a broad, level hilltop and so I could and I did. I'm not proud of how I worked- it was one of the few times that Zorro has actually provoked me towards anger. I don't like to be angry but the sheer frustration and disappointment that after all this time and work we still find ourselves back here. Consequently if as I prepared to step on he started grazing he got to trot or canter a few circles, if he stepped away as I went to get on he would find himself running backwards, fast, for at least ten metres. It didn't take that long to change things around so he could find his patience again but it felt like an age. I think for a moment there he was a little afraid of me. Once I was back on we had a break and a breather, remembered that we could be friends again and set off on what seemed to me the most likely to be army-free route home.
The route had a large group in camo fanned out across and around it. I turned back and chose again, taking us up a very steep hill I was once to afraid to cycle down and later used to ride routinely. Zorro's energy was picking up again by this point and he surged up it, taking the tree roots like steps on a cross country course. The feeling of power was amazing and at the top of the hill we were not far from a route that would definitely be free.
We were also in the middle of a large camp of dark green tents, land rovers and at least fifty army cadets. Surprisingly after our previous adventures Zorro went past looking at them and slightly going sideways, very tense but still with me and fairly calm. Beyond that we were on clear trails. A cyclist with a dog appeared at the junction ahead and turned down the trail away from us. We trotted after them and the dog came dashing back to bark at Zorro. Dad was half way through apologising for Pippa's behaviour when he realised who it was, so we rode along with him on his bike and Pippa keeping a distance from us and barking from time to time. Zorro is fine with bicycles, it seems.
The rest of the journey home was quite uneventful- back on the common we normally ride across, Zorro wanted to get home as fast as possible and I let him run for a while. It turns out I can sit his bucks more smoothly than his fast canter at this point. As we ambled up the road to the yard, back in our safe zone again, the sound of gunfire suggested that we had been correct to avoid the cadet groups.
By the time we got home we'd covered about seven miles and I was absolutely exhausted. Also demoralised. One thing that riding Xefira has really brought home to me is how great it is to ride a horse that is enjoyable to ride out alone. It leaves me wondering whether I'll ever be good enough to get Zorro working as a solo trail horse or perhaps more pertinently whether Zorro is the kind of horse that even could become one, because if he isn't then I'm actually being cruel in asking him to do that for me. Who would I have to become in order to be the person he could trust in that situation? Because it seems as though although he likes me I think as well as he has ever liked any human, the only person whose judgement he really trusts is Zorro.
At least riding other horses whenever I can reminds me that he genuinely is an exceptionally difficult horse to work with and riding him in the school reminds me that he is a brilliant horse in so many respects, but once we're out on the trails, for all the progress we have made in the last year or so, there is so much further to go.
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Date: 15 May 2010 23:25 (UTC)Also, take a shorter rein before mounting up. If he has a long enough rein to start grazing, it's too long. About the time he cow-kicked would have been a serious disciplinary session from me...it doesn't matter whether he had flies bugging him or not, there is no excuse for kicking at a rider, and it would have entailed some serious discipline, smacking, and scolding with prominent use of "Quit!"
Zorro may be a horse who needs to have a quirt or whip handy on hacks, and spanking him during a bucking session is something I'd do, on the trails or in the arena. When Mocha's in heat she'll sometimes kick out at the leg and I swat her for it. I also have zero tolerance for bad behavior when mounting, learned years ago from riding Sparkle. I have been known to spend a good fifteen minutes mounting, then dismounting, mounting, then dismounting, until the horse figures out that it's a lot easier to let me climb on without an argument. Even now, in my creaky fifties.....
Surprisingly after our previous adventures Zorro went past looking at them and slightly going sideways, very tense but still with me and fairly calm.
No surprise to it. After your tussle with him, you came out on top as Boss. He knows you're Boss and he acknowledges it now.
the only person whose judgement he really trusts is Zorro
Which is why you have to be firmer and be Boss in those scary situations. It means you have to think "I don't care if you like me or not, I'm more scary to you than those things you think might eat you. I am Boss." Alternately, when he first noticed the cadets, you needed to start working him in figures. Get his feet moving, get him on the bit, give him something else to think about besides the scary stuff. Get his attention and his mind back on you. When he had his attention and his mind on you, he was worried but he kept calm. That's because you were in charge.
Zorro is not a horse you can daydream on. You need to ride ahead of him, and anticipate trouble. When you sense something problematic, that's the time to work on leg-yield, bending, two-tracking, anything that engages his brain and has him thinking about what you're wanting him to do rather than what worries him.
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Date: 16 May 2010 22:36 (UTC)I feel like there must be a better way through this, I just can't see what it is right now.
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Date: 16 May 2010 23:55 (UTC)Unfortuately with a horse like him you need to anticipate what's coming if you can, and start asking for the movement before he stops. It takes a lot of practice and I needed to work through it with a trainer first.
What happens if you start pulsing the rein when he does this? Not a hard pull, but vibrating the rein (a single rein, not both) to remind him that you are on his back? Vibrate, vibrate, pause. Vibrate, vibrate, pause, until he softens his head and neck and mouths the bit. Get him to yield to the rein, then progress to leg to get him to move his feet around, say in a circle, a sidepass, a two-track, a leg yield, something that he has to give to the bit, bend and flex a little bit. The Baucherist flexion exercises can be very useful at this point, because at this point he absolutely needs to get his mind off of the scary thing and back on you. A horse that bends and yields can't be tense, tight and locked up. You've got to get him past the brace because at that point he is telling you he doesn't trust you to protect him, and he's blowing you off. Dangerous things happen when horses don't think about humans on their backs.
Do you do little schooling works out on the trails? Simple stuff like a couple of steps of leg-yield, bending and flexing, doing it when nothing major is happening, doing stuff he knows and is comfortable with from the arena, random pieces of asking him to round up and come on the bit, so that when you sense him starting to get tense, it's not a novelty and it's a safe and familiar thing for him to do. "Oh yeah, human's asking me to do this stuff, Scary Thing Must Be Okay," is what you're looking for.
Where we differ is that I would probably push and ride through an explosion, just because it's important to me to get a horse like Zorro moving forward even if it's a buck rather than having them freeze up and lock up, because that's ultimately more dangerous than going forward. Forward motion is good, because you can get a horse back to you if you've got forward. If they freeze and lock up, you've got nothing, and all sorts of nasty stuff can result when the horse decides to unlock, because it's forgotten about you.
I will let Mocha stop and look at things she's noticed these days, on a loose rein, but that's because she's earned the privilege of doing so. We got to that place through lots of the kind of things I've described to you, though--rein vibrating, bending, flexing, leg-yielding, stuff like that. I've done my share of making a reaction to the scary thing more work than just listening to me and not reacting, and it seems to have paid off. Because, ultimately, it's about making the horse realize that while they have the right to tell you that something worries them, they also need to depend upon your judgment to tell them to ignore it and move on. It's an ever-evolving dynamic of communication between horse and human, and it takes time and a lot of practice to develop.
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Date: 16 May 2010 10:24 (UTC)I've started to come to the conclusion that there are some horses who really do enjoy getting out and about alone with just their rider for company, and some who, for whatever reason, just don't. And I'm still not sure how I feel about that. Is it worth pushing them? Or would it be better to just find them something thy CAN do happily? The jury's still out. I really don't know the answer to that one yet. From my own point-of-view I think sending my mini-Zorro off to Kelpie is going to be an interesting experiment.
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Date: 16 May 2010 22:38 (UTC)We'll be seeing Steve in a few weeks, last year that was a massive help so I'm hoping we can get something helpful this time too.
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Date: 16 May 2010 13:19 (UTC)Ranger, for all his earlier spookiness, is turning into a steady horse. We still have those moments of panic (his _and_ mine, I have to be honest), but we're getting there. Gypsy, though? _sighs_ For all the work we've done, and all the progress we've made, it comes down to her own mind. I can try to "make the right thing easy and the wrong thing hard" but sometimes she _still_ chooses the wrong thing. I just try to be as consistent and patient as possible, and we generally work through the tricky times, but... she'll never be an easy horse. She'll never be dependable, I don't think. :/ I've had to learn to enjoy riding her for the horse she is and not the horse I wish she could become. She's a challenge, but she makes me a better rider (and a better horsewoman) and... that has to be enough, with her.
I still think you and Zorro have come a long way. You have a lot to be proud of.
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Date: 16 May 2010 22:19 (UTC)I have also noticed since writing this post that there is a correlation with this problem and this time of year, so I suspect the spring grass is probably a factor in him being extra feisty and I guess that as the summer goes on we may calm down a little.
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Date: 17 May 2010 00:00 (UTC)For me, the Girl is in intense, drippy heat, which makes her more aggressive and strong under saddle. I have to ride her more aggressively when she's like this. Fortunately, as she's matured it's moved on from challenging me to just plain wanting to go as hard as she can. But I remember the spring of her sixth year, when she was being a real stinker and pulling all sorts of stupid, challenging stuff.
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Date: 16 May 2010 22:58 (UTC)I would get in there and get a good relationship between your hands and his mouth (and I don't mean a 'contact' as most people mean - I mean cultivate a soft mobile mouth on cue (a la Baucher). It works!
Having said that, I completely sympathise with your situation, and can see that it might actually be more fun to just get a different horse. We have struggled for years with one or two very distracted horses, and eventually effected a geuine long term real change through using and building in this approach to the mouth - in my opinion it is the key to the horse.
The clearest written description of this work is probably in 'Twisted Truths - Phillipe Karl, or maybe 'Racinet explains Baucher'.
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Date: 16 May 2010 23:00 (UTC)no subject
Date: 17 May 2010 13:30 (UTC)I do, if I can join in the giving of unsolicited advice, wonder how much of this is potentially related to what seems/sounds like (although you haven't written much about your schooling lately, so maybe you've moved on) your reliance on the rein to communicate with the horse and control/regulate all his various body parts. It does sound, when you talk about riding Zorro, like, for all the progress you've made, you've been avoiding some stuff that I would consider fairly basic. Which, y'know, is fine--you don't have to ride the way I do, or the way anyone does. But it is sounding like the lack of ability to put the horse on the bit, for example, or to ride through the rough spots, or (especially) to affect his body much at all with your leg, is leaving you without some tools that might come in Real Handy in these situations?
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Date: 17 May 2010 15:18 (UTC)So the tools that I had less in the past I have more now. Certainly I can ride through as much as most people by this point I would think. But I also know there is a buck in there that would put a bull rider on the floor ( it's instantly fast, totally vertical and then it twists ) and I would much prefer not to get to a place where I have to try to ride through that, though maybe I would be luckier with it this time round. I can stop a buck that is about to start and I can stay on through most of the other stuff he presents, but if it's going to put either of us at serious risk of injury then I will back off. I don't have the machismo for that stuff and if there was a less confrontational route I could take then I would prefer to.
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Date: 18 May 2010 11:37 (UTC)re: riding through, it's not about machismo or about confrontation. It's about being able to act effectively in the moment--every moment--without having to break the flow of the work.
I do get it. I don't have any dramatic pics of my horse bucking, but I do have a long list of people, pros included, who have said flat-out that he has as wicked a buck as any horse they've seen. We also have another horse in the barn who came from the barn of a USET rider after he put a bunch of her people on the floor. So y'know, I get it. And if you've got a big, strong horse with a good trick and without a work ethic, that's a bad situation.
But if you have to ride a horse like he's an unexploded bomb, you might as well be riding in handcuffs. I'm not saying you should do anything that you can't safely do, or that you should go out and provoke a bucking fit. (That's certainly not how either horse in our barn is handled, although rereading the bit about the cow-kicking, I will say, I'd be inclined to be a little confrontational about that'un.) I'm saying, there seem to be a lot of situations in which you have to stop what you're doing, get off the horse, and let him get his bucks out before you can ask him to focus. If he were mine, which obviously he's not, I would be having myself a good think about how--and there are potentially all sorts of ways--I could get us more directly to the "focus" bit.
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Date: 18 May 2010 16:36 (UTC)The essence of what you're getting me thinking here ( probably not what you were thinking to get me thinking, but as every your posts make my mind work ) is that I can stop a buck before it happens, likewise a bolt and so on. Those controls are in there, but it's like a bottle rocket - once that potential energy is in the horse it is going to have to go somewhere and although I can usually catch it before I get myself decked what I really need to find is a better way of defusing that in a way that feels good to both of us so that we can go about our business. If I get too confrontational I'm potentially putting more energy in, if I back off too far I effectively offer a reward for that behaviour.
I guess part of what I need to do is maybe go back to where this happened or to other places where we have nice open trails and maybe stuff that will really bring on this type of event and just experiment a little in a wide space where I'm confident that we can work without vanishing off down a forested hillside or putting a foot down a rabbit hole.
The trouble with this stuff, is that the only way to learn it is get in there and get it done.
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Date: 17 May 2010 16:29 (UTC)Basically, what I'm saying is stick with it. I do agree with the first commenter's point of being firmer with him and showing that you're boss, though. I don't know how that fits into natural horsemanship though as it's not something I've really looked into myself.
At the end of the day, he is teaching you a lot. Horses like that are among the best, in my humble opinion. :) Not that I'm biased or anything...
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Date: 17 May 2010 20:01 (UTC)My fault, I guess, for getting our backup so good...
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Date: 21 May 2010 21:48 (UTC)Ive *so* been here.
Jo, hero's mum is the most amazing hack - loves to stride out in front, alone, doesnt spook or look at anything ( except bins, but even then she just stops but will go on voice command ) and after not hacking hero alone for nearly 2 years because of similar behaviour to zorro - it was *such* a nice feeling and for a while i much preferred to ride her!
Anyway, as you know, Jo was first retired from work to foal, then miscarried, and even after 2.5 months of no riding was no different bringing her back into work. Really sound and dependable, but not a plod. But id been forced into hacking Hero out and i was super relaxed with him - and he relaxed too! he started to go out in front and his spooking was a lot less with a long rein. So much so that i hacked him out tonight, alone, on the buckle and he didnt spook until halfway up the driveway on our way home - stupid horse! predictably it was at something miles away too!
Anyway, slightly long-winded point being is that it may be good for you to ride something uncomplicated as it may help with Zorro.