Friday, August 17th, 2012
It's been a little over a week since I've been able to get out to work with Ginger. The other folks who are working with her have worked with her briefly in the arena. All the obstacles in the arena are no problem to her now. I found that her ground manners have regressed, so I've still got a battle coming on that. The main issue with her is her performance under saddle, so that's what I'm concentrating on. She has to be rideable by the clientele of this stable, or the boss won't keep her through the winter.
Today, I raised the ante a bit. I brought my quirt, and wore my spurs. I wasn't sure what use the quirt would be, but I wanted to have as many tools as possible at my disposal. My main tactic was going to be with the spurs. Ginger has no problem with commands to move out, so the spurs are not needed in that way. My thought was, that when she refuses and tries to spin away, I would bring my foot up with my heel to her shoulder. That way, she would run herself into the rowel unless she moved in the proper direction.
We rode out to the perimeter trail, and she immediately balked at turning off the driveway onto the trail. I'm not as nimble as I used to be. She was a quarter of the way around her left hand spin by the time I got my foot in position. She spun around twice against the spur, then moved on out down the trail. Not far down the trail, she balked again. Once more, she spun twice against the spur. We rode completely around the farm and she balked again as we approached the driveway. This time, however, she only spun once before accepting the direction I wanted to go. We worked for a bit over an hour. She balked twice more, but spun only once against the spur each time. We rode around the farm, changing directions frequently to approach the driveway from opposite directions. Most times I could feel her preparing to dodge down the drive But , that was corrected with a light touch on the reins. A few times, she actually walked past the drive without a thought of changing directions. To finish up, I stopped her at the head of the drive, and stood there for a minute. Not long enough for her to get nervous, I wanted her to be successful. Then we turned to the road, stood there and watched a couple of cars drive past. I turned her back down the driveway, stopping at irregular intervals to reinforce that we don't just blast down the driveway going home.
We'll be working some more this weekend. I hope she remembers how to behave.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Temper Tantrum (Ginger pt 2)
Ginger and I worked a couple more times this past week. Wednesday was our second time up. She is a bit more attentive walking on a lead rope, and with mounting and dismounting now, but still not where she needs to be. Took her outside the arena for the first time. She did fairly well, but her first reaction to anything she doesn't like is to sit back and spin away. She only did it twice. First, at the spot where she got chased through the fence. That could also be because that is where the barnyard opens up to the house and garage area. She's familiar with it, but there are a couple of blind corners there that sometimes spook other new horses. We rode the perimeter trail around the farm. A good portion of it parallels the public road, with a fringe of trees between. I was hoping a truck or motorcycle would come by so I could get a feel for what she might do when I take her onto the road. I had no such luck, so we took a couple of laps around the farm at a nice calm walk. Just for fun, we crossed the road at the top of the driveway. She stood quietly on the other side while we watched a couple of cars buzz by. We crossed back to head down the driveway to the farm, when she started spinning again. This one was more of a refusal than a spook. She wanted to head down the road instead of going home. A group of trail riders had saddled up and left while we were getting ready. I'm fairly certain that she knows this is the route they take whenever any horses leave the farm. As much as she wanted to go with them, she is not yet ready for the real world. I spun her around in both directions, and pushed her into a trot to get her going in the right direction.
On Friday we worked on ground manners, mounting and dismounting for a good while. Ginger still hasn't figured it out, but I can see she is trying. It's very much like teaching an active kindergartner that she has to raise her hand, wait to be called on THEN speak. Repetition, repetition, repetition, with unwavering consistency.
From the barnyard, we moved out to the perimeter trail again. The obstacles inside the arena no longer bother her. We met a few things that gave her a small start. The clacking of the pedals on a golf cart, a cat darting across the trail, and a cyclist on the road. Nothing to do for unexpected things like that but to always stay calm and balanced, before, during, and after they happen. The main event of the day was a reminder to me that you should never plan your day around a horse's behavior. We made two loops around the farm at various gaits, then I decided to call it a day. Fortunately, I had no other pressing commitments that afternoon.
When going back to the barn, I habitually ride back and forth past the driveway entrance, sometimes four or five times. This is to reinforce that we don't just duck down the driveway whenever we pass it. On our first pass at the top of the drive, Ginger decided that she was going home NOW. And she let me know it with her patented left hand spin. I kept her spinning, and came out of it aimed in the direction I wanted to go. Ginger countered by spinning back toward the driveway. I spun her several times in both directions. By the time we were done dancing, we were well inside the driveway entrance. I had her facing out, and cued her to walk forward. She threw it in reverse and backed down the driveway as fast and straight as she walks forward. I turned her around, and backed her in the opposite direction. She knew what was going on, and didn't go as fast as before, though she did stay straight. Back at the top of the drive, I turned her completely around a couple of times, left and right, just for general purposes. Then I pushed her back onto the perimeter trail. She fought that briefly, but a light tap of the reins on my boot top convinced her that this round was over. I pushed her several yards past the point where she relented, then turned around to try again.
When we reached the driveway again, Ginger renewed the battle. She wasn't nearly as enthusiastic this time. It only took a couple of turns in both directions to convince her to move past the drive. Instead of turning back, we continued all the way around. About halfway around, Ginger figured out what was going on, and gave a halfhearted protest. Several tight turns in both directions convinced her to continue on. As we approached the driveway again, I began looking for a way to end this fight on a positive note. I stopped her at the driveway without turning into it. Instead, we turned to the road, and stopped at the edge. We paused there a while, then I turned her around and we walked calmly back to the barn.
If I had allowed Ginger to win this contest of wills, I, or someone else, would have had twice the problem next time around. We'll see how much of this she remembers next time up.
On Friday we worked on ground manners, mounting and dismounting for a good while. Ginger still hasn't figured it out, but I can see she is trying. It's very much like teaching an active kindergartner that she has to raise her hand, wait to be called on THEN speak. Repetition, repetition, repetition, with unwavering consistency.
From the barnyard, we moved out to the perimeter trail again. The obstacles inside the arena no longer bother her. We met a few things that gave her a small start. The clacking of the pedals on a golf cart, a cat darting across the trail, and a cyclist on the road. Nothing to do for unexpected things like that but to always stay calm and balanced, before, during, and after they happen. The main event of the day was a reminder to me that you should never plan your day around a horse's behavior. We made two loops around the farm at various gaits, then I decided to call it a day. Fortunately, I had no other pressing commitments that afternoon.
When going back to the barn, I habitually ride back and forth past the driveway entrance, sometimes four or five times. This is to reinforce that we don't just duck down the driveway whenever we pass it. On our first pass at the top of the drive, Ginger decided that she was going home NOW. And she let me know it with her patented left hand spin. I kept her spinning, and came out of it aimed in the direction I wanted to go. Ginger countered by spinning back toward the driveway. I spun her several times in both directions. By the time we were done dancing, we were well inside the driveway entrance. I had her facing out, and cued her to walk forward. She threw it in reverse and backed down the driveway as fast and straight as she walks forward. I turned her around, and backed her in the opposite direction. She knew what was going on, and didn't go as fast as before, though she did stay straight. Back at the top of the drive, I turned her completely around a couple of times, left and right, just for general purposes. Then I pushed her back onto the perimeter trail. She fought that briefly, but a light tap of the reins on my boot top convinced her that this round was over. I pushed her several yards past the point where she relented, then turned around to try again.
When we reached the driveway again, Ginger renewed the battle. She wasn't nearly as enthusiastic this time. It only took a couple of turns in both directions to convince her to move past the drive. Instead of turning back, we continued all the way around. About halfway around, Ginger figured out what was going on, and gave a halfhearted protest. Several tight turns in both directions convinced her to continue on. As we approached the driveway again, I began looking for a way to end this fight on a positive note. I stopped her at the driveway without turning into it. Instead, we turned to the road, and stopped at the edge. We paused there a while, then I turned her around and we walked calmly back to the barn.
If I had allowed Ginger to win this contest of wills, I, or someone else, would have had twice the problem next time around. We'll see how much of this she remembers next time up.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Rudeness (Ginger pt 1)
Ginger is the lowest ranking horse in the herd. She is so timid that the others have hounded her through the fence. She doesn't offer the least resistance to this treatment. Fortunately, she stayed calm while we knocked the boards loose and untangled her. She got out of what could have been a disaster with nothing more than a few scrapes. I took her to the hitching rail to check her over, and noticed that she had absolutely no manners. While being led, she wanders without regard to the human leading her. she also walks faster than a human walks, and when corrected, swings around to face the person. As I doctored her scrapes, I noticed that she would not stand still at the hitching rail. Not trying to escape, but constantly moving, keeping an eye on everything around her. I thought it might be because she had just been chased through a fence by her pasture mates. I was told, and have since seen for myself, that this is her normal demeanor. We separated her in a field with a horse who won't pick on her. She is my next project.
You never know how much credence to give to a new horse's back story. I glean what I can from them, then deal with each horse as an individual. As told to me, Ginger was professionally trained as a youngster. She was ridden for a while. Then, after spending a year or more in a pasture, was "tuned up" by a pro, and ridden for another short while. This cycle seems to have been her life so far. Long periods of languishing in a pasture, broken by short stints of professional training and light riding.
She moves easily, with a smooth comfortable gait. And, she works with a light bit, a short shanked snaffle that we call a "tom thumb". We know some of her disadvantages. Her poor manners, of course. She is "light in the front end", meaning a tendency to rear when faced with uncertain situations. She is also said to be "nervous" in traffic.
There's an old saying I heard when I was a kid. "The cure for most horse problems is wet saddle blankets." Ginger's owner has three of us working with her. Or job is to keep her saddle blankets good and sweaty. In the process, we'll teach her some manners, get her to stay on the ground, and make her traffic safe.
My first session with her began a few days later, I caught her up from the pasture and constantly worked the lead rope as we walked down the lane to the hitching rail. She would move when I needed her to stand still, or wander when I needed her to walk by my shoulder. I would shake the rope, tug it, or snap it. Whatever the situation called for. She wasn't completely sure what I wanted. That will come with repetition.
Halfway to the hitching rail, she spooked. Another rider was free lunging her horse in the arena. This involves some running around, kicking up heels, and changing directions. Ginger didn't like it at all, and started dancing around, trying to get away from the scene. Of course, I thought we should stand around and watch. So we did. After about a minute, she was standing still, but she still didn't like it. We had more work to do, so we moved on.
At the hitching rail, I gave her a good grooming and checked her for bruising and soreness from her encounter with the fence. She seemed no worse for the experience, so I saddled her up. The farm was bustling with activity. Vehicles were moving, people were saddling up, and moving out for their afternoon rides. Ginger was constantly moving, twisting, shifting, and in general, making it difficult for me to get the saddle square and tightened up. The saddle wasn't her problem. She wanted to keep an eye on all the activity around us. I realized I had no effective way to correct her there. Her head was tied to the hitching rail, and my hands were occupied with the saddle. I wasn't going to ride her immediately, so I went with what I had, crooked saddle pad and all. I put the bridle on her, and moved into the arena.
Ginger continued her moving around, but now I had control of her head with the long reins. She still didn't completely understand my signals, but it was obvious that she was thinking about them as I reset the saddle. My next step was a technique called "sacking out". It's an old cowboy method of getting a horse accustomed to things moving and flapping around it. In the old days, an empty feed sack was used. I tend to use an old saddle blanket. I use this technique on young, or nervous horses. My method is to first, fold the blanket up small and let the horse see and smell it. Then, I rub it all over the horse as if I'm brushing it. From there, I continue in the same manner, gradually opening up the blanket. I open it a bit at a time, until the horse allows me to touch it anywhere, and flap it around myself and the horse. If the horse gets nervous, or spooks, I back up to the last step, and work until the horse accepts it. It was obvious that this was old hat to Ginger. She stood calmly the whole time I was waving the blanket around, wrapping it around her legs, swinging it under her belly, and draping it over her head. I tossed the blanket on the ground, and moved on to the next step.
I stepped into the stirrup to mount, and Ginger continued to move around. Nothing major, just little steps as I stepped into the saddle. Then before I was settled in, she began walking off. I used the verbal command "whoa" and pressure on the bit with the reins. She still doesn't understand completely that I want her to stand perfectly still. But, the firm "whoa" and equally firm rein pressure after I was up, was clear to her. We did that drill several times, with similar results. It will take more time and consistent repetition before it sinks in.
We took a few turns around the arena, just to see what would happen. We moved out at a walk. I avoid letting a horse think that it should blast off at speed, as soon as a rider is seated. There are a number of objects in this arena. Barrels, poles, traffic cones and big PVC pipes are set up for various purposes. We walked around by the rail without incident, then changed directions. We had passed the PVC pipes in the corner easily once. Ginger didn't like them from the other direction. There, I found out her favorite trick. She sat back on her hocks, and spun out of there like a cowhorse. Spinning to the left seems to be her preference. I spun her completely around, and attempted to go past the pipes again. She spun away again. Since she wanted to spin, I just kept her going. We'd spin around a few times, then head right back toward the pipes. She eventually figured out that her spinning trick wasn't getting her out of the situation, and relented. We took a couple more turns around the pipes and went back to the hitching rail.
After untacking and a good brushing down, I led her back to her pasture. I still needed to work with the lead rope to teach her that she's expected to walk quietly by my shoulder. But, she still had another surprise for me. When I opened the gate to let her into her pasture, she charged through it with no regard that I was standing there. With a horse that I'm unsure of, I hold the lead rope sort of upside down. the rope runs from the horse's head through the bottom of my fist, and out the top. I cock my elbow toward the horse, giving me something of a bumper in case half a ton of beastie comes charging towards me. With my elbow stuck out like that, Ginger, more or less, bumped me out of her way. But, I still had the lead rope. I gave it a jerk, and she turned to face me. I swung the free end of it in a figure eight around her head, and let her know in no uncertain terms that I didn't like what she had just done. The whole thing only took a few seconds. I gave her a firm "whoa", and began scratching her neck and ears. She settled down immediately. Then we tried going in and out of the gate again. With constant motion on the lead rope to keep her attention on me, we calmly passed in and out of the gate a couple of times before I gave her some more scratching and turned her loose. There's a lot more work to do. We'll see how things develop.
You never know how much credence to give to a new horse's back story. I glean what I can from them, then deal with each horse as an individual. As told to me, Ginger was professionally trained as a youngster. She was ridden for a while. Then, after spending a year or more in a pasture, was "tuned up" by a pro, and ridden for another short while. This cycle seems to have been her life so far. Long periods of languishing in a pasture, broken by short stints of professional training and light riding.
She moves easily, with a smooth comfortable gait. And, she works with a light bit, a short shanked snaffle that we call a "tom thumb". We know some of her disadvantages. Her poor manners, of course. She is "light in the front end", meaning a tendency to rear when faced with uncertain situations. She is also said to be "nervous" in traffic.
There's an old saying I heard when I was a kid. "The cure for most horse problems is wet saddle blankets." Ginger's owner has three of us working with her. Or job is to keep her saddle blankets good and sweaty. In the process, we'll teach her some manners, get her to stay on the ground, and make her traffic safe.
My first session with her began a few days later, I caught her up from the pasture and constantly worked the lead rope as we walked down the lane to the hitching rail. She would move when I needed her to stand still, or wander when I needed her to walk by my shoulder. I would shake the rope, tug it, or snap it. Whatever the situation called for. She wasn't completely sure what I wanted. That will come with repetition.
Halfway to the hitching rail, she spooked. Another rider was free lunging her horse in the arena. This involves some running around, kicking up heels, and changing directions. Ginger didn't like it at all, and started dancing around, trying to get away from the scene. Of course, I thought we should stand around and watch. So we did. After about a minute, she was standing still, but she still didn't like it. We had more work to do, so we moved on.
At the hitching rail, I gave her a good grooming and checked her for bruising and soreness from her encounter with the fence. She seemed no worse for the experience, so I saddled her up. The farm was bustling with activity. Vehicles were moving, people were saddling up, and moving out for their afternoon rides. Ginger was constantly moving, twisting, shifting, and in general, making it difficult for me to get the saddle square and tightened up. The saddle wasn't her problem. She wanted to keep an eye on all the activity around us. I realized I had no effective way to correct her there. Her head was tied to the hitching rail, and my hands were occupied with the saddle. I wasn't going to ride her immediately, so I went with what I had, crooked saddle pad and all. I put the bridle on her, and moved into the arena.
Ginger continued her moving around, but now I had control of her head with the long reins. She still didn't completely understand my signals, but it was obvious that she was thinking about them as I reset the saddle. My next step was a technique called "sacking out". It's an old cowboy method of getting a horse accustomed to things moving and flapping around it. In the old days, an empty feed sack was used. I tend to use an old saddle blanket. I use this technique on young, or nervous horses. My method is to first, fold the blanket up small and let the horse see and smell it. Then, I rub it all over the horse as if I'm brushing it. From there, I continue in the same manner, gradually opening up the blanket. I open it a bit at a time, until the horse allows me to touch it anywhere, and flap it around myself and the horse. If the horse gets nervous, or spooks, I back up to the last step, and work until the horse accepts it. It was obvious that this was old hat to Ginger. She stood calmly the whole time I was waving the blanket around, wrapping it around her legs, swinging it under her belly, and draping it over her head. I tossed the blanket on the ground, and moved on to the next step.
 |
| Sacking out is old hat to Ginger. |
I stepped into the stirrup to mount, and Ginger continued to move around. Nothing major, just little steps as I stepped into the saddle. Then before I was settled in, she began walking off. I used the verbal command "whoa" and pressure on the bit with the reins. She still doesn't understand completely that I want her to stand perfectly still. But, the firm "whoa" and equally firm rein pressure after I was up, was clear to her. We did that drill several times, with similar results. It will take more time and consistent repetition before it sinks in.
We took a few turns around the arena, just to see what would happen. We moved out at a walk. I avoid letting a horse think that it should blast off at speed, as soon as a rider is seated. There are a number of objects in this arena. Barrels, poles, traffic cones and big PVC pipes are set up for various purposes. We walked around by the rail without incident, then changed directions. We had passed the PVC pipes in the corner easily once. Ginger didn't like them from the other direction. There, I found out her favorite trick. She sat back on her hocks, and spun out of there like a cowhorse. Spinning to the left seems to be her preference. I spun her completely around, and attempted to go past the pipes again. She spun away again. Since she wanted to spin, I just kept her going. We'd spin around a few times, then head right back toward the pipes. She eventually figured out that her spinning trick wasn't getting her out of the situation, and relented. We took a couple more turns around the pipes and went back to the hitching rail.
After untacking and a good brushing down, I led her back to her pasture. I still needed to work with the lead rope to teach her that she's expected to walk quietly by my shoulder. But, she still had another surprise for me. When I opened the gate to let her into her pasture, she charged through it with no regard that I was standing there. With a horse that I'm unsure of, I hold the lead rope sort of upside down. the rope runs from the horse's head through the bottom of my fist, and out the top. I cock my elbow toward the horse, giving me something of a bumper in case half a ton of beastie comes charging towards me. With my elbow stuck out like that, Ginger, more or less, bumped me out of her way. But, I still had the lead rope. I gave it a jerk, and she turned to face me. I swung the free end of it in a figure eight around her head, and let her know in no uncertain terms that I didn't like what she had just done. The whole thing only took a few seconds. I gave her a firm "whoa", and began scratching her neck and ears. She settled down immediately. Then we tried going in and out of the gate again. With constant motion on the lead rope to keep her attention on me, we calmly passed in and out of the gate a couple of times before I gave her some more scratching and turned her loose. There's a lot more work to do. We'll see how things develop.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Still Life (Hawk pt 5)
When you mention training horses to most folks, they seem to picture some type of wild rodeo scene. The truth of it is more mundane. There's lots of repetition of simple tasks and concepts. A couple of years ago, I took a saddle that needed some repair to an old fellow who lives near me. He is from the mountains of Tennessee. I knew I'd like him when I drove onto his place. He had no fence separating his yard from his pasture. We struck a deal on the saddle, then stood around talking horses. His basic philosophy on horse training is "Do it 'til it don't matter". Standing still while being mounted, for example.
This past week, I concentrated on that one thing with Hawk. My game plan was to work with him in the arena until he got it right once, then stop and put him away. That way, he'd only have one thing to think about until I worked him again. Of course, his owner is riding him frequently also. She is having much better success by being firm and assertive with him. On Monday, after I fetched him up, I stopped partway to the hitching rail to talk with the owner of the farm. I leaned on the fence and got comfortable, and we talked for about 5 minutes. When I first met Hawk, he had no respect for a person on the ground. If a person was between him and whatever he wanted to do, he would simply walk over them. After a month or so of work, he's gotten out of that habit. But, he still hasn't grasped the concept that "whoa" means stop right here, right now, and don't move an inch until I say so. I gave Hawk the command, then leaned on the fence. When he got bored and took a step, I repeated the command. If he continued, I gave the lead rope a quick tug. When he tried to move off, I would place him back where he was and repeat "whoa". If needed, I'd add a tug on the lead rope. Occasionally, I'd have to snap the lead rope sharply to make my point. That point being, that no matter what the human is doing, he is expected to stand quietly.
I tacked him up, and took him into the arena. Things went, more or less, as normal with him. He moved around some, when I first mounted. Then I did the "up and down" drill. The second time I mounted him, he stood perfectly still. I gave him a lot of praise and neck scratching. Then, I put him away.
A couple days later, I worked with him again. Several people had gone for an evening trail ride, so the farm was quiet, without a lot of distractions. This time, I tacked him up and took him to the center of the arena. Instead of mounting, I gave the command, "whoa", stepped in front of him and held the reins up where he could see them, and dropped them on the ground. I use a pair of really long split reins, so there was quite a bit of rein on the ground. The idea there, is that, if he moved, he would eventually step on a rein, and correct himself. I stepped away, and began playing with some pebbles on the ground. He stood perfectly still. I moved farther away, and moved some poles around. Hawk didn't move. I walked up to him, and fiddled with the saddle, then moved away. Still, no movement from him. I walked farther away, and leaned on the fence. Nothing. I went back and put the off side rein over his neck, and moved away again. This time, I went all the way to the end, and moved some barrels around. Still there. I worked my way back to him and draped the on side rein over his neck, then moved away again. We played this game for about 10 minutes or more. Then, I stepped up to him to mount. The reins were draped loosely over his neck, with absolutely no contact on his mouth. I took a chance, and grabbed a handful of mane without taking up the reins, then stepped into the stirrup. Hawk stood perfectly still! I was all over his neck and withers, scratching, patting, and telling him what a good fellow he was. Then I dismounted, and put him away.
On Friday, I went back, thinking to try the same thing with the addition of a mounting block. It was Friday, the weather was perfect, and about 10 people were saddling up for a ride, including Hawks owner. I saddled up a promising 3 year old to tag along and see how Hawk behaved for his owner. I wanted to cheer and do cartwheels when Hawk stood perfectly still while she climbed up without a mounting block! We had an enjoyable ride, with a little coaching on rein handling, and collection. We're really happy with all the progress, but plan to keep working at it.
This past week, I concentrated on that one thing with Hawk. My game plan was to work with him in the arena until he got it right once, then stop and put him away. That way, he'd only have one thing to think about until I worked him again. Of course, his owner is riding him frequently also. She is having much better success by being firm and assertive with him. On Monday, after I fetched him up, I stopped partway to the hitching rail to talk with the owner of the farm. I leaned on the fence and got comfortable, and we talked for about 5 minutes. When I first met Hawk, he had no respect for a person on the ground. If a person was between him and whatever he wanted to do, he would simply walk over them. After a month or so of work, he's gotten out of that habit. But, he still hasn't grasped the concept that "whoa" means stop right here, right now, and don't move an inch until I say so. I gave Hawk the command, then leaned on the fence. When he got bored and took a step, I repeated the command. If he continued, I gave the lead rope a quick tug. When he tried to move off, I would place him back where he was and repeat "whoa". If needed, I'd add a tug on the lead rope. Occasionally, I'd have to snap the lead rope sharply to make my point. That point being, that no matter what the human is doing, he is expected to stand quietly.
I tacked him up, and took him into the arena. Things went, more or less, as normal with him. He moved around some, when I first mounted. Then I did the "up and down" drill. The second time I mounted him, he stood perfectly still. I gave him a lot of praise and neck scratching. Then, I put him away.
A couple days later, I worked with him again. Several people had gone for an evening trail ride, so the farm was quiet, without a lot of distractions. This time, I tacked him up and took him to the center of the arena. Instead of mounting, I gave the command, "whoa", stepped in front of him and held the reins up where he could see them, and dropped them on the ground. I use a pair of really long split reins, so there was quite a bit of rein on the ground. The idea there, is that, if he moved, he would eventually step on a rein, and correct himself. I stepped away, and began playing with some pebbles on the ground. He stood perfectly still. I moved farther away, and moved some poles around. Hawk didn't move. I walked up to him, and fiddled with the saddle, then moved away. Still, no movement from him. I walked farther away, and leaned on the fence. Nothing. I went back and put the off side rein over his neck, and moved away again. This time, I went all the way to the end, and moved some barrels around. Still there. I worked my way back to him and draped the on side rein over his neck, then moved away again. We played this game for about 10 minutes or more. Then, I stepped up to him to mount. The reins were draped loosely over his neck, with absolutely no contact on his mouth. I took a chance, and grabbed a handful of mane without taking up the reins, then stepped into the stirrup. Hawk stood perfectly still! I was all over his neck and withers, scratching, patting, and telling him what a good fellow he was. Then I dismounted, and put him away.
On Friday, I went back, thinking to try the same thing with the addition of a mounting block. It was Friday, the weather was perfect, and about 10 people were saddling up for a ride, including Hawks owner. I saddled up a promising 3 year old to tag along and see how Hawk behaved for his owner. I wanted to cheer and do cartwheels when Hawk stood perfectly still while she climbed up without a mounting block! We had an enjoyable ride, with a little coaching on rein handling, and collection. We're really happy with all the progress, but plan to keep working at it.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
The Continuing Education of Hawk (pt 4)
Had a few more sessions with Hawk and his owner. Hawk simply needs regular workouts that engage his mind, and force him to pay attention to the person on the ground. Once I'm in the saddle, or, for that matter, have one foot in the stirrup, he does fine. He stops all his evasive tactics as soon as my foot is in the stirrup. So, when I'm most vulnerable, with one foot up and one down, he is as still and safe as a horse gets. My major problem with him is getting him to stand still before that point. He is a fairly tall horse, roughly 16 hands high. I am a smallish fellow, and with age, not as nimble as I once was.
His first tactic with me was to move his shoulder into me. I countered that by keeping light contact on the off side rein. That worked for the first couple of sessions. After the first little contest, we would have no problems mounting and dismounting for the rest of the day. During later sessions, he changed tactics. When he realized that I could physically prevent him from crowding me, he started moving away from me. There's no way I can prevent that with signals from the reins. He simply needs to stand stock still on the command of "whoa". I think he knew it once before, as evidenced by his standing still once I get my foot in the stirrup. But, after years of getting away with fidgeting and moving around, he's "forgotten" it. To "remember" it again, he needs to be put into a situation where he can get it right, and be rewarded for it.
To counter his moving away, I placed him against the fence. Hawk countered by moving forward. I put him in the corner of the fence. He moved backwards. I backed him into the corner. He moved forward, and added swinging his rump toward me. At last, I got him still long enough to get a foot in the stirrup. We took a couple turns around the arena to wind down from all that.
Back in the center of the arena, I dismounted and remounted several times without taking my foot out of the on side stirrup. Of course, he stood still, and I praised him for it with much scratching of his withers and neck. Next, I dismounted completely. Hawk started moving again, once I tried to remount. Normally, after I've mounted once, he stands still for the rest of the day. This time, I think he was too worked up from the first go round. He was however, less fidgety, and I was able to take advantage of a slight pause and get mounted. I praised him a bit for that. We did the "up and down" drill again. Again, he stood perfectly still for it. More praise and neck scratching, then a couple more laps around the arena. We did the "up and down" , then a full dismount and remount with similar results. We finished up with a couple circuits around the farm.
Now, I'm still spry enough to dance around with Hawk. His owner is not. She is shorter than me, and not particularly athletic. Mounting her tall horse from the ground requires all her effort. There's no way she can manage to climb up, and,at the same time, work the reins to keep the horse lined up. She'll either lose her balance and fall, or jerk the horse's mouth unintentionally, causing even more problems. Her usual method is to have someone hold the horse, while she uses a mounting block.
My first goal is to get rid of the horse holder. I want Hawk to stand perfectly still, on a loose rein, while she uses a mounting block. My second, and more difficult, goal, is for her to be able to mount without the holder or the block.
His first tactic with me was to move his shoulder into me. I countered that by keeping light contact on the off side rein. That worked for the first couple of sessions. After the first little contest, we would have no problems mounting and dismounting for the rest of the day. During later sessions, he changed tactics. When he realized that I could physically prevent him from crowding me, he started moving away from me. There's no way I can prevent that with signals from the reins. He simply needs to stand stock still on the command of "whoa". I think he knew it once before, as evidenced by his standing still once I get my foot in the stirrup. But, after years of getting away with fidgeting and moving around, he's "forgotten" it. To "remember" it again, he needs to be put into a situation where he can get it right, and be rewarded for it.
To counter his moving away, I placed him against the fence. Hawk countered by moving forward. I put him in the corner of the fence. He moved backwards. I backed him into the corner. He moved forward, and added swinging his rump toward me. At last, I got him still long enough to get a foot in the stirrup. We took a couple turns around the arena to wind down from all that.
Back in the center of the arena, I dismounted and remounted several times without taking my foot out of the on side stirrup. Of course, he stood still, and I praised him for it with much scratching of his withers and neck. Next, I dismounted completely. Hawk started moving again, once I tried to remount. Normally, after I've mounted once, he stands still for the rest of the day. This time, I think he was too worked up from the first go round. He was however, less fidgety, and I was able to take advantage of a slight pause and get mounted. I praised him a bit for that. We did the "up and down" drill again. Again, he stood perfectly still for it. More praise and neck scratching, then a couple more laps around the arena. We did the "up and down" , then a full dismount and remount with similar results. We finished up with a couple circuits around the farm.
Now, I'm still spry enough to dance around with Hawk. His owner is not. She is shorter than me, and not particularly athletic. Mounting her tall horse from the ground requires all her effort. There's no way she can manage to climb up, and,at the same time, work the reins to keep the horse lined up. She'll either lose her balance and fall, or jerk the horse's mouth unintentionally, causing even more problems. Her usual method is to have someone hold the horse, while she uses a mounting block.
My first goal is to get rid of the horse holder. I want Hawk to stand perfectly still, on a loose rein, while she uses a mounting block. My second, and more difficult, goal, is for her to be able to mount without the holder or the block.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Hawk, Round Two (pt 3)
For the second time out with Hawk, I took the same trail. This time, I put him through several gait changes. I didn't want him to think that whenever I was on board, we would simply go as fast as he could. Again, I was pleasantly surprised at how responsive he was. He changed gaits readily on command, but needed about the same amount of correction as before.
At our first meeting, Hawk only wanted to go fast. Now that we're better acquainted, he is much more calm. He walks quietly on a loose rein. This did highlight another problem his owner had mentioned. Given his head, he sometimes strays off the trail, as if he's heading off into the woods. Don't know yet if he's not sure he's supposed to simply follow the open trail, or if he's trying to take control from the rider. I suspect the latter. At the creek crossing, he attempted to turn back. I pushed him through, then crossed and recrossed several times to make my point After the fourth time, he more or less grudgingly plodded across without much pushing. At the top of the loop, He knew that one fork went back to the barn. I turned him as if we were going back around the loop. He protested by trying to turn back and by wandering off the trail. I cued him into an amble until he appeared to accept the new direction. Then, I turned him back. At the top of the loop again, I turned as if we were going back around in the opposite direction. Once more, he protested in the same way. I pushed him until he accepted my decision. I repeated this exercise several more times. Each time required less distance before he relented. I think we're going to play that game often. On the way home, he wanted to pick up the pace, but it was easy to keep him at a walk on a loose rein.
I got more encouragement from him the other day. I was fetching up another horse from the same field. Hawk came up to me on his own, and stood there for me. This is the first time he's done that. I've always had to chase him down before.
This is a sign of improving trust. His reward was not having to work that day. We'll see if he continues.
At our first meeting, Hawk only wanted to go fast. Now that we're better acquainted, he is much more calm. He walks quietly on a loose rein. This did highlight another problem his owner had mentioned. Given his head, he sometimes strays off the trail, as if he's heading off into the woods. Don't know yet if he's not sure he's supposed to simply follow the open trail, or if he's trying to take control from the rider. I suspect the latter. At the creek crossing, he attempted to turn back. I pushed him through, then crossed and recrossed several times to make my point After the fourth time, he more or less grudgingly plodded across without much pushing. At the top of the loop, He knew that one fork went back to the barn. I turned him as if we were going back around the loop. He protested by trying to turn back and by wandering off the trail. I cued him into an amble until he appeared to accept the new direction. Then, I turned him back. At the top of the loop again, I turned as if we were going back around in the opposite direction. Once more, he protested in the same way. I pushed him until he accepted my decision. I repeated this exercise several more times. Each time required less distance before he relented. I think we're going to play that game often. On the way home, he wanted to pick up the pace, but it was easy to keep him at a walk on a loose rein.
I got more encouragement from him the other day. I was fetching up another horse from the same field. Hawk came up to me on his own, and stood there for me. This is the first time he's done that. I've always had to chase him down before.
This is a sign of improving trust. His reward was not having to work that day. We'll see if he continues.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Hawk (pt 2)
I had Hawk under saddle a couple of times last week. Probably, more importantly, I had the chance to speak with his owner for a short while. I told her of my assessment, and suggested she be a little more assertive in her handling of him. She seems to be following that advice, and the horse seems to be working better for her.
I had been told that the horse wasn't holding his gait. That is, he would break out of the smooth, fast, and comfortable walking horse rack, into a bouncy trot. For my first time on the trail with him, I wanted to push him into holding that gait. Tacking up went better than before. He didn't pretend to shy from the saddle and pad this time. As I cinched up the girth, he arched his neck and flattened his ears at me. I continued the task, and spoke firmly to him. He sighed and relaxed his aggressive attitude. He also stood quietly while I mounted. A big improvement.
I got another pleasant surprise when we got onto the paved road leading to the trail. Right on command, Hawk moved easily and naturally into a smooth 4 beat amble. For a walking horse, this is the next speed up from a flat walk. He held this for the full quarter mile to the trail head, only breaking stride a couple of times. That was easily corrected with a light tap on one rein. This tapping on one rein, or nudging with one heel, is the cue used to train some walking horses to hold their gait. Once on the trail, I pushed him into a rack. This is the walking horses' specialty. Done well, it is so smooth and fast, that other types of horses often have to canter to keep up. Hawk made this transition easily as well.
My plan was to to push him hard for one loop on the short trail around the pond. He is a strong, well conditioned animal, and can handle that easily. He moved well. But, he frequently had to be reminded to hold his gait. Usually, he corrected himself when I tapped on the rein. However, a few times, I had to break him down to a walk, or a stop, and start again. He is still headstrong. At each intersection, Hawk tried to choose the route. He knows these trails, and seemed to prefer the one that would take us back to the barn the quickest. I had to muscle him around to the one I wanted to take. Other than that, he is very responsive to rider cues. I think he simply needs a leader. In the absence of one, he will take charge.
I had been told that the horse wasn't holding his gait. That is, he would break out of the smooth, fast, and comfortable walking horse rack, into a bouncy trot. For my first time on the trail with him, I wanted to push him into holding that gait. Tacking up went better than before. He didn't pretend to shy from the saddle and pad this time. As I cinched up the girth, he arched his neck and flattened his ears at me. I continued the task, and spoke firmly to him. He sighed and relaxed his aggressive attitude. He also stood quietly while I mounted. A big improvement.
I got another pleasant surprise when we got onto the paved road leading to the trail. Right on command, Hawk moved easily and naturally into a smooth 4 beat amble. For a walking horse, this is the next speed up from a flat walk. He held this for the full quarter mile to the trail head, only breaking stride a couple of times. That was easily corrected with a light tap on one rein. This tapping on one rein, or nudging with one heel, is the cue used to train some walking horses to hold their gait. Once on the trail, I pushed him into a rack. This is the walking horses' specialty. Done well, it is so smooth and fast, that other types of horses often have to canter to keep up. Hawk made this transition easily as well.
My plan was to to push him hard for one loop on the short trail around the pond. He is a strong, well conditioned animal, and can handle that easily. He moved well. But, he frequently had to be reminded to hold his gait. Usually, he corrected himself when I tapped on the rein. However, a few times, I had to break him down to a walk, or a stop, and start again. He is still headstrong. At each intersection, Hawk tried to choose the route. He knows these trails, and seemed to prefer the one that would take us back to the barn the quickest. I had to muscle him around to the one I wanted to take. Other than that, he is very responsive to rider cues. I think he simply needs a leader. In the absence of one, he will take charge.
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