Harley had three rides last week. Day 1, dressage, moderate intensity. Day 2, the creaky tree. Day 3, more dressage, high intensity.
So, back to Day 2. I decided the weather was truly delightful for a walk down the road. I took a pre-walk with Mo, let him canvas the neighborhood. We didn't see much worth even glancing at. He and I made it five driveways away, and then turned back. I knew Harley and I wouldn't make it so far, and figured we were good.
Saddled Harley dressage, and, as I hopped on, I had a hunch that wasn't enough saddle to hang on to quietly. Figured I need to start trusting Harley outside of the arena. Off we went.
He reached CRNG's driveway, and stopped dead. Head up, and he tried to trot off forward (away from home). I got him stopped 3 strides in, and he stood again, shaking. I wasn't entirely sure what was bothering him, so I hopped off, and listened.
Creak
Creak
Ah, CRNG has a creaky tree in his front yard. The wind was howling so harsh, it was bending a tree stump, and the noise was new with me on top. Once Harley relaxed, we walked another two driveways, and came on home. He did great. He crunched rocks the whole way down the road, and rustled up the dry leaves on the roadside.
Every time I have a "trail ride" on Harley, I realize my confidence in our partnership evaporates as soon as we leave the arena fence. It is not lost on my humor side, either, that I have the confidence to ask for simple lead changes, and jump small fences, yet I'm a nervous wreck walking down the road off property.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Losing my Motivation, and Finding it, and ...
Oh drat you, Murphy, for writing that Law..
Things were going good with Harley. Then he whacked his ankle, which has healed awesome. It's back to normal, and so is he. We had one ride post-injury where he hoped not to canter, and tried racey trot instead. No-go, young student. Nothing a whack of my legs won't fix.
In the midst of his ankle swelling and receding, I lost all motivation to ride. I didn't want to go outside and do more than scratch out the shedding hair, or just stand with them. No riding, no saddling, no grooming, nothing. I finally got warmed up to at least grooming, but not wanting to ride. I took a few easy walks on Mo during that time. Finally, I had to seek some advice on "is this normal", and "how to get through it". The response with the best idea was "deny myself the right to ride for a few days, and do nothing with them in that time." So I tried it.
I got anxious to hop back on Harley. Really anxious.. I was looking forward to the ride, and so was he. When we rode, it was awesome. I started him out with a nice longe, and then hopped on. We had a great 35 minutes together, and I was delighted.
The next day, I gave in to a headcold and some other troubles, and went to the doctor. Strong antibiotics, he said. Grr. I ended up with another three straight days off, not riding.
Yesterday, I finally had the energy back to ride. "Both horses", I told myself. What a riot.. I made one.. Harley and I had a good time in the arena, but after the 45 minute time with him, I was whooped. I hosed him down, scrubbed some of his shedding winter yak-coat off, and hosed him again. He baked in the sun a while, then I turned him out. Mo got the same hose/scrub/hose, but I couldn't see myself lifting the saddle to his back. Shucks.
Today, rather than set my goals on two big rides in the arena, I'm hoping for two nice, short walks down the road. I'm also counting down the days until the Stirlingshire Saddle Fitters and Monkee arrive, bringing my new jump saddle along with them. :) In fact, I'm delighted with more excitement than I can explain. THAT just might be the boost I need to get me excited to ride again. We'll be able to jump with more ease than we have now in the dressage saddle. Might just be able to jump correctly. Shh.. don't tell Harley - he thinks it's all the same.
Things were going good with Harley. Then he whacked his ankle, which has healed awesome. It's back to normal, and so is he. We had one ride post-injury where he hoped not to canter, and tried racey trot instead. No-go, young student. Nothing a whack of my legs won't fix.
In the midst of his ankle swelling and receding, I lost all motivation to ride. I didn't want to go outside and do more than scratch out the shedding hair, or just stand with them. No riding, no saddling, no grooming, nothing. I finally got warmed up to at least grooming, but not wanting to ride. I took a few easy walks on Mo during that time. Finally, I had to seek some advice on "is this normal", and "how to get through it". The response with the best idea was "deny myself the right to ride for a few days, and do nothing with them in that time." So I tried it.
I got anxious to hop back on Harley. Really anxious.. I was looking forward to the ride, and so was he. When we rode, it was awesome. I started him out with a nice longe, and then hopped on. We had a great 35 minutes together, and I was delighted.
The next day, I gave in to a headcold and some other troubles, and went to the doctor. Strong antibiotics, he said. Grr. I ended up with another three straight days off, not riding.
Yesterday, I finally had the energy back to ride. "Both horses", I told myself. What a riot.. I made one.. Harley and I had a good time in the arena, but after the 45 minute time with him, I was whooped. I hosed him down, scrubbed some of his shedding winter yak-coat off, and hosed him again. He baked in the sun a while, then I turned him out. Mo got the same hose/scrub/hose, but I couldn't see myself lifting the saddle to his back. Shucks.
Today, rather than set my goals on two big rides in the arena, I'm hoping for two nice, short walks down the road. I'm also counting down the days until the Stirlingshire Saddle Fitters and Monkee arrive, bringing my new jump saddle along with them. :) In fact, I'm delighted with more excitement than I can explain. THAT just might be the boost I need to get me excited to ride again. We'll be able to jump with more ease than we have now in the dressage saddle. Might just be able to jump correctly. Shh.. don't tell Harley - he thinks it's all the same.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Harley Update
The Good News
Harley continues to progress in his dressage skills. I have put a LOT of focus on his left-direction work, and it's paying off. He's adjusted to the side rein longe warmup, and actually seems to realize it's a time to stretch and be forward. I have been able to get some amazing transitions at all gaits, and he's letting me know the work is "good work" everytime I loosen the reins and he puts his nose to the dirt. His canter has improved to a nice steady (and slow) cadence rather than running up into it and falling out. I have had some sessions where I can transition about every 8 strides, something he couldn't have done well before.
We've plodded at the trot over some ground poles, crossrails, all with total success. He's also beginning to understand he *can* canter over a ground pole, and I'm successfully getting him over one at a time. Baby steps, baby steps.
Outside of the arena, I am his only limitation. He's getting braver with every trip, and adjusting to "hop on and walk on a loose rein". I find him reaching, searching for the bit, and stumbling when it's not there. I aim to get us farther away from home without anxiety from me, and increased trust that he can in fact leave the arena. a little ironic I'm working so hard in the fenceline, jumping, cantering, lengthening trot strides, yet I panic as soon as a bunny scuttles in the bushes walking down the road, hmm? His best "trail walk" day had to be the 15 minute walk about a week ago, cold-turkey, bareback, in the halter, all around his pasture. I let him pick his way through the brush, and he was outstanding. Confused (at least it felt that way), but his confidence increased by ride's end.
The Bad News
We went 8 weeks from one trim to the next, and it caused some harm. My trimmer was out of town on farrier work, so we pushed Harley out until he could come back. "Better later than sooner", he said. Now, I realize that isn't going to work. With the trim, Harley had hot feet, and sore rear heels again. That led to a week off, a few cold hoses, and mostly time to chill. I scrubbed his heels with a toothbrush and Listerine, and that seemed to increase the tough some.
Adding insult to injury, after my vacation, I prepared to ride him again yesterday, and found both front hooves hot to touch. Hmm.. Not good... I inspected the rear legs and hooves, and quickly found the problem. Right rear ankle, swollen, warm. Hmm,,, really not good. We wandered to the arena (dressed to ride), and I sent him out on the longe (no side reins). His head wobbled a little, and as I asked for more, his trot became rushed and flat. I paused a minute to see the heat had dissapated from his fronts, but the rear ankle was still swollen.. The more I longed ( about 10 minutes ) , the less I could tell if it was bothering him or not.
Brave, I told Harley, "Alright. Now, the only way I'm going to be able to tell how much it's bugging you? Is to hop on. Please don't kill me. Just show me what's going on, and I'll hop off." I climbed aboard (endurance saddle, halter/reins, no bit), and asked for a walk. For the first time, I was walking him around the arena, eyes completely closed, trying to feel the rear footfalls. Yeah, a lot of you are saying either, "You're a moron! He could've tore off & killed you!" or, "Yeah, so what? Eyes closed, big whoop you freaking chicken." Okay, well, it seemed like a big experience at the time. I felt a slight bit of difference in his gait behind. Not a defined limp, but a difference. I asked for a few brief moments of trot, and was surprised he didn't resist the gait at all. I didn't feel near the difference at the trot. In fact, everything felt steady. I halted him, and leaned over to look at the ankle,... still swollen. After a bit more riding, I hopped off.. Still swollen.
Off to the wash rack we went. I cold hosed it, and while I got some licking/chewing/yawning, none of that swelling decreased over ten minutes. I added 1g of bute to his supper, and breakfast. I found the ankle a bit less swollen this morning, with a little less heat in it. Lather rinse repeat tonight, and perhaps I'll add a bit of ice tight and some wraps to the rear legs as well.
Harley continues to progress in his dressage skills. I have put a LOT of focus on his left-direction work, and it's paying off. He's adjusted to the side rein longe warmup, and actually seems to realize it's a time to stretch and be forward. I have been able to get some amazing transitions at all gaits, and he's letting me know the work is "good work" everytime I loosen the reins and he puts his nose to the dirt. His canter has improved to a nice steady (and slow) cadence rather than running up into it and falling out. I have had some sessions where I can transition about every 8 strides, something he couldn't have done well before.
We've plodded at the trot over some ground poles, crossrails, all with total success. He's also beginning to understand he *can* canter over a ground pole, and I'm successfully getting him over one at a time. Baby steps, baby steps.
Outside of the arena, I am his only limitation. He's getting braver with every trip, and adjusting to "hop on and walk on a loose rein". I find him reaching, searching for the bit, and stumbling when it's not there. I aim to get us farther away from home without anxiety from me, and increased trust that he can in fact leave the arena. a little ironic I'm working so hard in the fenceline, jumping, cantering, lengthening trot strides, yet I panic as soon as a bunny scuttles in the bushes walking down the road, hmm? His best "trail walk" day had to be the 15 minute walk about a week ago, cold-turkey, bareback, in the halter, all around his pasture. I let him pick his way through the brush, and he was outstanding. Confused (at least it felt that way), but his confidence increased by ride's end.
The Bad News
We went 8 weeks from one trim to the next, and it caused some harm. My trimmer was out of town on farrier work, so we pushed Harley out until he could come back. "Better later than sooner", he said. Now, I realize that isn't going to work. With the trim, Harley had hot feet, and sore rear heels again. That led to a week off, a few cold hoses, and mostly time to chill. I scrubbed his heels with a toothbrush and Listerine, and that seemed to increase the tough some.
Adding insult to injury, after my vacation, I prepared to ride him again yesterday, and found both front hooves hot to touch. Hmm.. Not good... I inspected the rear legs and hooves, and quickly found the problem. Right rear ankle, swollen, warm. Hmm,,, really not good. We wandered to the arena (dressed to ride), and I sent him out on the longe (no side reins). His head wobbled a little, and as I asked for more, his trot became rushed and flat. I paused a minute to see the heat had dissapated from his fronts, but the rear ankle was still swollen.. The more I longed ( about 10 minutes ) , the less I could tell if it was bothering him or not.
Brave, I told Harley, "Alright. Now, the only way I'm going to be able to tell how much it's bugging you? Is to hop on. Please don't kill me. Just show me what's going on, and I'll hop off." I climbed aboard (endurance saddle, halter/reins, no bit), and asked for a walk. For the first time, I was walking him around the arena, eyes completely closed, trying to feel the rear footfalls. Yeah, a lot of you are saying either, "You're a moron! He could've tore off & killed you!" or, "Yeah, so what? Eyes closed, big whoop you freaking chicken." Okay, well, it seemed like a big experience at the time. I felt a slight bit of difference in his gait behind. Not a defined limp, but a difference. I asked for a few brief moments of trot, and was surprised he didn't resist the gait at all. I didn't feel near the difference at the trot. In fact, everything felt steady. I halted him, and leaned over to look at the ankle,... still swollen. After a bit more riding, I hopped off.. Still swollen.
Off to the wash rack we went. I cold hosed it, and while I got some licking/chewing/yawning, none of that swelling decreased over ten minutes. I added 1g of bute to his supper, and breakfast. I found the ankle a bit less swollen this morning, with a little less heat in it. Lather rinse repeat tonight, and perhaps I'll add a bit of ice tight and some wraps to the rear legs as well.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
San Antonio & Surprise
Saturday, we were walking around the Alamo, when I spotted the carraige horses. Ooh Ooh! Fantastic! I missed getting a ride the last time we visited SA, and was anxious to pick out the pair of rider/driver I wanted to see the town with.
All lined in a row, I watched the horse's behavior. First one? UP, wound, alert. Second? UP too. Third? Head down, ears still, back leg cocked. His driver stood beside the carraige. We exchanged pleasantries. "Good morning, how are you, welcome to San Antonio" - all those niceties. I walked up to the horse's face again, and he said, "Go ahead. You can pet if you want. He doesn't mind." I let the horse sniff my hand, and he started licking & chewing. I said to the driver, "He speaks well of you. The only quiet one in the bunch today, and that's saying a lot in the cooler weather." The driver shrugged it off, explaining the horse was older, seasoned, etc. I laughed. "Still says a lot that he's so calm." I told R later, "THAT is the horse I want the ride with, or at least that driver. He's so quiet, it runs right down the reins. The horse feels how calm he is, and I want them taking us through town."
Later that evening, we got the driver, but a different horse. "His name is Surprise. He's a little younger, a bit more spunky, but we'll have a great ride. C'mon, let's go." The driver gave us what felt like a custom tour through town, as we turned away from the carraige in front of us down a different side road. As we wandered to the river walk to our left and below, R said to me, "Do you get the feeling we're getting a custom tour off the beaten path, or is it just me?" I giggled, "Yeah, I think we got this from our chat this morning."
The driver told us early on, "Surprise doesn't like buses, and diesel engines. Otherwise, he's a great boy." Sure enough, Surprise's head came up, and ears on as we passed two tour buses. Once by the buses, he calmed right back down. His "go and whoa" were all verbal from the driver, and I was amazed at his attentiveness (for a horse!). As we stopped at a red light, a neighboring vehicle rolled down his driver window, and smooched at him. Surprise, hoping for a cookie, backed up and stuck his nose in the window. :) *giggle* Go horse! The driver quickly rolled that window right back up, too... HAH!
Surprise found one more thing on our journey he didn't trust - the Animal Control truck. I can only assume he smelled something inside that was scared, and was afraid himself. The driver went from calm, laughing, half turned-around talking with us, to eyes and body forward, talking calmly to Surprise. "Surprise, whoa. Whoa... Walk on, walk on. Surprise, whoa. walk on." After about 20 seconds of "Ears up, sheer fear", Surprise walked swiftly past the truck. He wanted to trot, and I could tell he was quite scared, but he pushed through. When our ride ended, I made sure Surprise knew what an awesome horse he was. By then, however, he was back to "quiet calm, leg cocked, resting".
A fantastic carraige ride. Surprise and his driver make a great team!
All lined in a row, I watched the horse's behavior. First one? UP, wound, alert. Second? UP too. Third? Head down, ears still, back leg cocked. His driver stood beside the carraige. We exchanged pleasantries. "Good morning, how are you, welcome to San Antonio" - all those niceties. I walked up to the horse's face again, and he said, "Go ahead. You can pet if you want. He doesn't mind." I let the horse sniff my hand, and he started licking & chewing. I said to the driver, "He speaks well of you. The only quiet one in the bunch today, and that's saying a lot in the cooler weather." The driver shrugged it off, explaining the horse was older, seasoned, etc. I laughed. "Still says a lot that he's so calm." I told R later, "THAT is the horse I want the ride with, or at least that driver. He's so quiet, it runs right down the reins. The horse feels how calm he is, and I want them taking us through town."
Later that evening, we got the driver, but a different horse. "His name is Surprise. He's a little younger, a bit more spunky, but we'll have a great ride. C'mon, let's go." The driver gave us what felt like a custom tour through town, as we turned away from the carraige in front of us down a different side road. As we wandered to the river walk to our left and below, R said to me, "Do you get the feeling we're getting a custom tour off the beaten path, or is it just me?" I giggled, "Yeah, I think we got this from our chat this morning."
The driver told us early on, "Surprise doesn't like buses, and diesel engines. Otherwise, he's a great boy." Sure enough, Surprise's head came up, and ears on as we passed two tour buses. Once by the buses, he calmed right back down. His "go and whoa" were all verbal from the driver, and I was amazed at his attentiveness (for a horse!). As we stopped at a red light, a neighboring vehicle rolled down his driver window, and smooched at him. Surprise, hoping for a cookie, backed up and stuck his nose in the window. :) *giggle* Go horse! The driver quickly rolled that window right back up, too... HAH!
Surprise found one more thing on our journey he didn't trust - the Animal Control truck. I can only assume he smelled something inside that was scared, and was afraid himself. The driver went from calm, laughing, half turned-around talking with us, to eyes and body forward, talking calmly to Surprise. "Surprise, whoa. Whoa... Walk on, walk on. Surprise, whoa. walk on." After about 20 seconds of "Ears up, sheer fear", Surprise walked swiftly past the truck. He wanted to trot, and I could tell he was quite scared, but he pushed through. When our ride ended, I made sure Surprise knew what an awesome horse he was. By then, however, he was back to "quiet calm, leg cocked, resting".
A fantastic carraige ride. Surprise and his driver make a great team!
The Pet Rescue - Epic Fail
R and I made a work trip to Houston, then decided to window shop and hang out in town a while. We decided to start with breakfast at a Corner Bakery on the Southwest side of Houston. As we walked towards the bakery, we heard an abundance of barking dogs. Abundance, as in "holy crap, where's the fire/robber/mugger and the dog walker?" We saw the sign ..
K-9 Angels Rescue
I talked R into walking in, and "cuddling the puppies". There were dogs *everywhere*, cages all over the place, and dogs of all sizes, ages, shapes, and colors. Mixes, pure-looking, barking, happy, quiet and shy....
Then we saw Kayla, sitting at the back of her crate, quiet. She walked to the front of the crate, wagged her little tail, and acted a LOT like MacKenzie did when I first met her. We took her for a walk, and while exuberant, she was pretty well behaved, and polite. As soon as her paws found grass, she stopped pulling on the leash, and was incredibly polite. She cuddled a bit, didn't bark, wasn't trying to drag me across the parking lot, just happy to be on the grass.
We took the plunge. I filled out their entirely lengthy adoption process paperwork, and as I filled it out, I had a hunch it wouldn't work out. They asked in detail "where I lived, what animals I owned, what care I took of them, how much I worked, where I worked, where I'd be gone, where the dog might be while I was gone, what treats I might feed, what I might do if I ever left town, where the dog might be if I left town, would I give the dog up and if so to whom".. you get the idea. I pretty much knew as I submitted the three-page application, I'd be denied.
It wasn't for the reason I figured. I figured being from out of town, they "wouldn't be able to inspect my home for quality life". Nope. The women looked me right in the eye, and said, "We think crates are torture. You can only use them for house breaking, and then allow the dog to roam the house, with a dog-door for bathroom access. You'd be leaving her alone too many hours in a row, and she just can't handle that." I responded, "Well, you know, some of us have to work to pay the bills." R was shocked, and dismayed. I pretty much saw it coming.
If you work in a rescue that believes the only "acceptable home" is a married family with no children, an abundant yard, and someone to stay at home all day long to pamper Fluffy the dog, only own 1-2 dogs, provide monthly vet care, premium home-cooked meals of only the highest quality meats & vegetables, then no wonder you're overcrowded. This place had at least 40 dogs in a small storefront, and it sounded like many of the dogs were taken home by volunteers every night. Otherwise, they were all trapped in little crates all day long. Apparently, being in a crowded room full of yapping dogs in a little bittie crate is SO much better than being in a crate in a quiet country home during the day, running amok during the early AM and evening hours, and crowding my bed at night. I wasn't searching out a family addition, so my only heartbreak over the situation is how I went from being "the perfect home with a lot of property out in the country with horses" to "torturing a dog by trapping her in a crate all day".
K-9 Angels Rescue
I talked R into walking in, and "cuddling the puppies". There were dogs *everywhere*, cages all over the place, and dogs of all sizes, ages, shapes, and colors. Mixes, pure-looking, barking, happy, quiet and shy....
Then we saw Kayla, sitting at the back of her crate, quiet. She walked to the front of the crate, wagged her little tail, and acted a LOT like MacKenzie did when I first met her. We took her for a walk, and while exuberant, she was pretty well behaved, and polite. As soon as her paws found grass, she stopped pulling on the leash, and was incredibly polite. She cuddled a bit, didn't bark, wasn't trying to drag me across the parking lot, just happy to be on the grass.
We took the plunge. I filled out their entirely lengthy adoption process paperwork, and as I filled it out, I had a hunch it wouldn't work out. They asked in detail "where I lived, what animals I owned, what care I took of them, how much I worked, where I worked, where I'd be gone, where the dog might be while I was gone, what treats I might feed, what I might do if I ever left town, where the dog might be if I left town, would I give the dog up and if so to whom".. you get the idea. I pretty much knew as I submitted the three-page application, I'd be denied.
It wasn't for the reason I figured. I figured being from out of town, they "wouldn't be able to inspect my home for quality life". Nope. The women looked me right in the eye, and said, "We think crates are torture. You can only use them for house breaking, and then allow the dog to roam the house, with a dog-door for bathroom access. You'd be leaving her alone too many hours in a row, and she just can't handle that." I responded, "Well, you know, some of us have to work to pay the bills." R was shocked, and dismayed. I pretty much saw it coming.
If you work in a rescue that believes the only "acceptable home" is a married family with no children, an abundant yard, and someone to stay at home all day long to pamper Fluffy the dog, only own 1-2 dogs, provide monthly vet care, premium home-cooked meals of only the highest quality meats & vegetables, then no wonder you're overcrowded. This place had at least 40 dogs in a small storefront, and it sounded like many of the dogs were taken home by volunteers every night. Otherwise, they were all trapped in little crates all day long. Apparently, being in a crowded room full of yapping dogs in a little bittie crate is SO much better than being in a crate in a quiet country home during the day, running amok during the early AM and evening hours, and crowding my bed at night. I wasn't searching out a family addition, so my only heartbreak over the situation is how I went from being "the perfect home with a lot of property out in the country with horses" to "torturing a dog by trapping her in a crate all day".
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
I Don't Know Where to Start
Should I blog first about my vacation to San Antonio? Surprise, the carraige horse, and his amazing driver, and spook at the Animal Control truck?
Or should I tell you about the "Pet rescue" that told me crates are torture and unacceptable?
Should I blog about Harley's increased performance, and how every ride I ask him to work, he's been better and better? I don't have video, so you'll just have to trust me.
Or should I write about the days I've ridden both boys, at the walk, all around the pasture, and Mo was jumpier than Harley?
I guess I could say "Not much has been going on around here, how about with you?" *smirk*
Things have been busy. Comment, and tell me where to begin, and I'll get to writing, and posting updates a bit at a time. :)
Or should I tell you about the "Pet rescue" that told me crates are torture and unacceptable?
Should I blog about Harley's increased performance, and how every ride I ask him to work, he's been better and better? I don't have video, so you'll just have to trust me.
Or should I write about the days I've ridden both boys, at the walk, all around the pasture, and Mo was jumpier than Harley?
I guess I could say "Not much has been going on around here, how about with you?" *smirk*
Things have been busy. Comment, and tell me where to begin, and I'll get to writing, and posting updates a bit at a time. :)
Sunday, February 10, 2013
1.18.2013 Harley
I think things have progressed some from here, but this is the video I had from Jan 18.
http://youtu.be/15FaecslqVE
Since then, Harley has less fussy moments, and more quiet ones. He isn't arguing with me as much, and stays in the trot without tossing his head so often.
http://youtu.be/15FaecslqVE
Since then, Harley has less fussy moments, and more quiet ones. He isn't arguing with me as much, and stays in the trot without tossing his head so often.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)