Science and the horse

Scientists are studying equine social behavior, now. No horse person is surprised, but they keep finding out that horses are insanely smart, learn body language, words, and problem solving skills. Some horses definitely have more problem solving skills than others. I can’t wait  for them to do a study comparing horses, ponies, donkeys and mules.

NBC recently reported that horses remember people and how they were treated for long periods of time. And the entire equestrian community said “Um, yeah…this is why training works and abused horses have a lot of emotional baggage forever.” All the same, I enjoyed reading the article.

It confirmed my own experimentation. Don’t worry, I didn’t go around mistreating one horse and pampering another. A couple years ago I watched a Tommie Turvey clinic and in the Q&A afterwards a little girl asked him how he got horses to like him. He paused, then said he tries to do something nice for the horse that it cannot do for itself–such as scratching a hard to get spot. Simple enough. Not unlike making friends with a human, doing something nice goes a long way.

For the past couple years I’ve been really focused on Midas and haven’t really paid much attention to the other horses at the barn. So, I decided I would make it a point to greet the other horses because they notice when you don’t. There were four others at the time, one has since passed on of old age, so now there are only three others to greet. In summertime it’s easier because they are in during the day, so I go around and pat everyone before fetching Midas.

At first they were slightly suspicious when they discovered I was coming to see them–and also not bearing treats. But I told them I wasn’t bearing treats, asked them if they wanted pats, and tried to give them a nice scratch in an itchy place before moving on. Eventually they caught on and they usually come to their gates to say hello and get their scratches.

It helps, I think, that I use a lot of the same phrases–things like, “No treats today, just pats” or “hey, do you want a treat?” so they know what I’m asking and decide for themselves if they feel like moving their feet to get their whorl rubbed or the spot under their manes scratched.

Most of the time they do. It’s always gratifying when someone is glad to see you.

The NBC article also talked about horses hearing humans even better than dogs do, suggesting that verbal commands will be met with great success–which confirms what I’ve observed (especially working with Midas): Horses definitely learn words, and tone is huge.

Barking orders at a horse–particularly commands like “whoa” or “stay” is entirely counterproductive because your tone is saying “jump!” “run!” “I eat you!” so obviously the horse is not going to respond with the desired slowness and relaxation.

Even barking “trot” will result in a much uglier up transition to a much more tense trot than crooning out as gentle a command as you can manage with a “t” at the front and back of the word. I witnessed my youngest brother-in-law growling out commands the way most kids are taught to address ponies. You know, that “do it now or face the consequences” tone that ponies always seem to invite, and then ignore. It was freaking Midas out. When I convinced my brother-in-law to breathe out his commands in a soothing tone, Midas responded just as quickly as before and much more quietly. Suddenly they could go around transitioning up and down in a relaxed fashion.

It made me re-evaluate how we’re taught to address ponies–but at the moment I don’t have access to any so I can’t experiment.

When I was a teen exercising horses in winter, I accidentally taught my mount a verbal half halt. Before asking him to canter–or gallop, we had a lot of fun out on the trails together–I always asked him “Are you ready?” I don’t know why, I just did. Of course, he figured out really quickly what I was going to ask for next, so even without half halting he would shift his weight back, ready to launch.

I’ve started asking Midas “Are you ready?” before most transitions, up or down. It’s a verbal reminder, which I think he appreciates, something that doesn’t require nagging at him with my hands or legs. I try not to nag in general, but this is another “nice gesture” I can offer to this particular horse.

I’ve already mostly taught him “right and left” so I can give him a heads up when leading him–with or without a rope–but I haven’t yet figured out how to control that when he’s at liberty. Another goal that I don’t know how to reach is refining “stay” and “come” so that I can ask him to come a few steps and stop–before reaching me–like sheep dogs do.

Anyway, all that to say: Science is catching on!

 

Operation Bridleless

I want to be able to ride Midas, formerly the bully freight train, bridleless and halterless. He already goes quietly in a halter–before I broke my foot I was cantering him in a halter. The time off from the foot was a serious set back for me, and set back our ridden work. So we have some making up to do.

But, we did a lot of groundwork that year. A lot. And we made huge strides.

So, why couldn’t he be one of those horses that goes in a neck rein or less?

I read a Buck Brannaman article on Eclectic Horseman that gave a deceptively simple exercise for laying the foundation–ride a serpentine using only your legs to steer. Makes sense, right? Simple, right?

Hahahahaha.

Ugliest serpentines I have ever ridden.

But….we’re making progress.

I’ve sort of combined that with Clinton Anderson’s Follow The Fence exercise, which we never really spent a lot of time on due to very little in the way of regular fencelines at this property. But I’m messing with the exercise now–using only my legs to direct Midas to stay on the path, as much as I can, anyway.

Anything that involves freedom excites him in a good way, but he hasn’t totally figured out what I want yet so he hasn’t fully embraced the responsiveness. He thinks that no rein means he can go where he likes as long as he keeps the pace I tell him. That is very similar to cruising–where he could go where he liked as long as he kept the pace. Now I just need to convince him to listen to my legs.

It HAS been working, he’s much more sensitive to leg pressure in general now, which is great. We still have pretty ugly serpentines, but I can actually float my hands over the reins without him immediately checking out.

Baby steps.

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First Jumper Show

IMG_20160825_082947I have never done a jumper show before, and I think I understand now why people love jumpers so much. It’s a lot of fun to test your skills zipping around a course as fast and clean as you can. Or, I imagine it would be. Our goal was to not zip, just to go around the course quiet and relaxed.

And you know what: We went off farm, I got on, and Midas listened in the warm up ring. He was good, we trotted both ways, then we went and got in line for the x rails course. Just to introduce him to the course. He was excited, but he listened well and went around pretty relaxed. We got a clean round and a good time (without trying for time). I was very pleased with him.

Then we loitered around for an hour while the x rails course finished up and the 18″ verticals class went.

As the hour passed between our classes, Midas knew he’d done a good job–stellar, even, especially considering his track record–he thought he was done, and he also knew it was dinnertime. So, when I woke him up to warm him up I could sense that he was offended about working more. I hoped we could just do our class and be done. Also, we hadn’t jumped warm up jumps before the x rails, and that had gone great, so I thought perhaps it would  be the same with the 2′ fences. In hindsight, I should have stayed in the warm up ring until he got over being offended. I should have taken the x rail and vertical in the warm up ring to discover his mood.

I was trying to help him get over being in work by not dwelling too long. It didn’t work. Our second class went horribly. Though, watching it later it doesn’t look that horrible up until the point I fell off. He was a handful, but mostly we were managing with extra circles to recover.

He was wound up, and shocked and offended, and I could feel him utterly coiled beneath me. He tried several times to get out of line while we were waiting, and when it was our turn to enter he tried to leave. He bucked and bolted after the first fence but I got him back and circled. I kept him from the second fence because I strongly suspected we’d have a buck and bolt on the other side of that one too. After a couple circles I felt his energy had shifted forward rather than up, and got him over with a reasonable recovery.  The third fence got a teeny buck and dart, which I recovered, circled and got him to fence four. I was approaching each fence like it was the only one. He took four without darting out of it, so I started to think we might be OK–not great, but maybe OK. But five and six were a line and I wondered if I should quit, knowing a line would give him the jump on me–literally.

Perhaps I should have quit.

Perhaps I should have pretended six wasn’t after five and sat up with the world’s biggest half halt in our two strides between fences.

Perhaps I should have sat up and ridden the fences like they were flat.

Any of those actions might have changed the fact that he jumped big on six and dislodged me, then I could’ve sworn he bucked–but in the video it wasn’t nearly the motion I felt, but just like that I was in the dust. I wasn’t embarrassed at the time, but watching the video I definitely am now!

So I left the ring and took him back to the warm up ring, got on, and spent the next half hour or so trotting the x rail and vertical in there. It only took a few times over the x rail (and one or two one rein stops before then) to get him listening again, and then I just did the vertical over and over waiting for him to take revenge. But he didn’t.

So we went back into the show ring–not to do the course, but to recover from it. We walked and trotted around–he was immediately worked up, and I just needed him to relax. So we trotted around–ooogled at the photographers laying in the grass outside the ring every single pass. After a little while I asked him to walk, did some half halts to focus on my release, focused on relaxing my legs, and then asked for trot and we did much better at achieving a relaxed trot. So it was time to try a fence.

On the recommendation of one of the show staff, we chose the straight approach to the four fence (since the other inviting fence was on the side with the scary photographers) and he trotted in and out like a good boy. No rushing. No bucking. Just a nice trot.

That’s a win. I let him walk and showered him with pats.

I was reflecting on the event and realizing that it did actually go much better than the dressage show. He came out and his first reaction was to be quite good. He knew he had been good, and he thought he was done–when he found out he wasn’t done, and the next thing was even harder, he just got more shocked and offended and worked up and then lost three years of training.

I think that if I had jumped him in warm up I would have been able to head off our disaster. I don’t think it would have been a great round, but I think I could have stayed on. So, lesson learned. After a long break, make sure to work him hard before asking for anything really hard.

 

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Midas

Several years ago Midas became my project. I’d ridden his stablemate, a retired show pony, and then trained a boarder, a gaited pasture potato, and when the pony and the boarder were gone…it was Midas’ turn.

He was a big bully.  A really big bully. On the ground, and even worse in the saddle.

I was a good rider, but day 1 consisted of him bolting with me, and it just didn’t go great from there. He was reasonably well behaved for my teenage brother-in-law (who he chose from a distance as his favorite human), but it still wasn’t pretty and bolts were a part of life. Much to everyone’s frustration.

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I knew that I needed to work hard to bring this horse to a place where he was a trustworthy citizen. I also needed to use diplomacy. Besides the fact that harsh methods aren’t any good to start with, they would have never worked on Midas. He’s too big and strong, and he is fully aware he is big and strong.

So I made Midas an offer: If you will walk beside me quietly, I won’t apply any pressure at all to the lead rope. In fact, I’ll let go entirely with my right hand. Midas was a little surprised, but readily agreed.

Soon I offered to forgo the lead rope entirely, he agreed to that, too. Suddenly my big bully was walking at my elbow, anyone’s elbow, without a rope to keep him there.

That was the beginning. The idea born from a childhood of Marguerite Henry books, Monty Roberts, Xenophon and a good riding instructor.

From there, I watched a Tommy Turvey clinic on liberty work, then I was introduced by my trainer to Clinton Anderson’s green book (Downunder Horsemanship) and then Buck Brannaman. Midas now has impeccable ground manners. He is reasonably controlled at liberty–and under saddle we’re actually working on dressage concepts like straightness and impulsion and collection rather than just “don’t veer, don’t speed.” Plus, we can cool out on a long rein, which was a major milestone for us. Now it’s a way of life, and when I dismount I take his bridle off and he follows me to the barn for his rub down or bath.

I’ve also realized that I’ve always cared more about horse training than a particular discipline in the horse world. A lot of the show ring stuff is actually useless. Real riding, real horsemanship, is the same across all the disciplines. And I love it. 

We’ve come so far: I’ve learned a ton, and we’ve had a lot of fun.

There is so much more to learn.

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Midas, parked where I left him. Waiting patiently for me to come back for him. 

Introductions

I write stories. That’s the big thing.

I also draw. I’ve got some art and a variety of products for sale on Redbubble.

Horses are my other hobby. Hobby…life passion…you know…I’m a pretty serious horse geek and over the past few years have been learning a lot about retraining mature horses. It’s a blast.

I like to cook–convenient since we have to eat–and enjoy style, so all these things will trickle out onto the blog now and then. Most often, though, it’ll  be geeky movie stuff and horse stuff. I would love for you to hang around!

If you want to read my fiction stories you should check out Zare Caspian and follow along.