Riding

We’ve actually gotten out for three rides in the past week. The weather is still somewhat inhospitable, but it’s drifted into the tolerable range. The key is layering. Yesterday was the nicest day; in spite of fairly gusty winds the temps were mild and the ground condition was good.

We’re easing back into it after a couple months of almost nothing. Sully has visibly lost muscle tone, and me, well… So our rides are consisting of a lot of walking with brief jogs and an occasional lope sprinkled in. Cementing our communication has been my main focus. But Sully is one of those rare horses that you could stand in a field for a year and not touch him, then throw a saddle on him and go. He forgets nothing. And what he does “forget,” you can rest assured it is a conscious choice! Some of that selective memory stuff, like, oh my gosh, I’ve never seen that boulder before! Deer?! What the heck is a DEER?! You want me to put my FOOT in that mud puddle?!

Meanwhile, back at the pasture, there’s Sully grazing peacefully around the base of a boulder with a herd of deer frolicking around him and his foot in a mud puddle.

Yesterday’s ride was fantastic, though. We started with a brief longe session; at one point I dropped the line, and his circle was getting larger and larger, and his trot was getting faster and faster. Then it dawned on me that it hadn’t yet dawned on him I’d dropped it! So I brought my body language back up as though I were still holding the line, and I gave the whoa command. He did a couple more strides and came to a stop. Ha! Sometime’s it’s nice that he’s not the sharpest tack in the pack. Once we mounted up he was a little lazy, but as I’ve learned gradually how not to nag him, he’s gradually learning to respond the first time I ask. So though I had to remind him a few times that we were walking and not napping, overall he kept a consistent pace. We went by the dairy with a little gawking, but he neither tried to stop nor spook at anything. Then I rode him for a quarter of a mile with absolutely no rein contact, steering and changing speeds (up and down transitions, they’re called) with my legs, seat, and voice. I like to think that in the event of an equipment failure like a rein or headstall breaking (and it has happened to me before!) I could easily bring the horse down to a stop with something other than the bridle.

We rode up to the house here, or to the top of the drive, and met up with Mom. While she walked down to pick up Blue, I took Sully up to the area where the cow guys have been leaving the white plastic bale coverings all over the place. These were strewn all over and flapping in the wind. I was hoping to get Sully to stand quietly next to one while it twisted and rattled. He walked up to over the first one. The next one he stopped on top of while the wind whipped it at his belly and legs. He stood there, and after a moment, pawed at the plastic like he wondered what was underneath. We walked on, around and over all the different pieces, and he never even flinched. The herd of cows and calves was a few feet away, too, watching with fascination. Sully’s attitude toward the whole thing was pretty amazing.

We had an equally uneventful ride home. It was great.

As we barrel towards spring and grass, I’m down to 4 bales of hay in the barn. The 65 bales we started with have lasted well, but I’ll have to run for another load to get us to May. We easily used half the hay that we have in previous years, and Sully’s weight is where it should be right now. The farrier and I have missed one another a couple of times now, but he’s scheduled out on Monday to get Sully’s feet back in shape; maybe then I can get them back into his boots! He’s not had a professional trim since Thanksgiving, though I have trimmed him once and rasped him a couple of times. I’d like to take a couple of pictures to demonstrate before and after. The farrier’s also bringing me some plastic hoof pads that I’ll hopefully use to repair the grazing muzzle; I’ll document it for those of you who are looking for a way to extend the life of your muzzles.

This morning we’re making a feed run before the weather sets in. A rare 62 degrees today, and thunderstorms in the forecast!

Lumberjacks

Yesterday saw some physical activity in spite of the chilling winds.

First, we — and by ‘we’, I mean Dad — plugged the truck tire. It seems to be holding, which is great.

Then, we — and by this ‘we’, I mean Mom and Dad — hauled a pick up load of wood out of the woods behind our house. That was hard work, and I only did a fraction of it! Mom and I were carrying chunks out, one under each arm, and while it was my stamina that limited me at the time, this morning I can barely lift my arms over my head! Maybe I’ll limber up before I have to go cleaning tomorrow…

Finally, we — and this ‘we’ was constituted by myself, Blue and Sully — decided to see how well Sully drives. I have it in my head that if I could just work out a harnessing situation, I’d have an excellent micro-logger on my hands. So I put his regular bridle on him, attaches two 30 foot longe lines, and used a light lead rope and a length of nylon cord as a makeshift surcingle to keep the lines clear of his forelegs. I used a longe whip with a short lash for signalling. I drove him out of the barn, around the truck, through the front gate and then we worked up and down the paddock, focusing mainly on ‘stop’, ‘go,’ and ‘back.’ Thanks to years of longe work where I’ve consistently used voice commands, he’s excellent in his home environment. The turns are a bit cumbersome, but he’s already got the basic idea. Once I’m convinced he’s got a solid set of brakes, I’ll get him out on the road and see what happens.

I’ve drawn some diagrams of a basic harness that I might could piece out of scraps and leftovers. I think I’ll carry it over to our neighbor who has spent 70 years working big horses in harness and see if he can help me implement it safely.

The next step after that is getting Sully accustomed to going against pressure. I’ll start him by dragging loose chains — minimal resistance but lots of noise and flapping. I might even add bags or a tarp. Then we’ll move up to tires for increased resistance. We’ll go from there, depending on how well he does.

Given his laid back personality and adaptability, I really think I could have him pulling within a couple of weeks.

Then I just have to find someone to give me a cart.

!@#$ the Groundhog Says

 

Shot near the Mississippi RiverReplaces :Image:Groundhog Standing1.jpg, which, although of a higher resolution, is at a much poorer angle. , in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Copyright © 2004 by April King

 

I finally got out for a ride today. First one since sometime in the middle of January, I think. I put on all my layers and it was 50 degrees and sunny when I left the house just after noon. By the time we got home, it had dropped to something lower than that, the wind was blowing and it was spitting rain. It’s supposed to be 15 degrees tomorrow night! No, that is NOT Centigrade (all our Canadian friends are probably praying for 15 degrees right about now…) Ha!

 

February is hard because you can feel spring coming, but it never quite does. Though that little Philadelphia rodent predicted an early spring, which would put it in the next couple weeks; he may have lied… or been slightly hung over from all that hibernating. I know hibernation makes me leery of shadows, too.

 

It was a great ride, though. I expected to have WWIII on my hands with a fresh horse conveniently forgetting who rides whom coupled with the nice-ish weather and my own sore muscles from the fall I had working yesterday. But it was great. Sully was just glad to be out of the mud for awhile. We even passed a funeral, complete with weird covered chairs, flapping tent and coffin. How can a horse be afraid of a pig or a cow, but something that looks like a fancy coffee table standing in the middle of a yard and smelling of formaldehyde is business as usual?

 

We also rode by some resident groundhog holes, but no one seemed to be home. I guess they all know they only have two weeks before they have to wake up and do groundhog stuff.

 

After our ride, I took Mom home and Dad put mirrors on the truck for me. On my way back out we noticed the rear tire was soft. There was a piece of 12 gauge fence wire stuck in it. I managed to get it home, where now it is now resting on three tires and one rim.

 

 

 

 

 

Meteor trace (Photo credit: alexeya)

 

 

The asteroid did it. You know, the one that didn’t hit Earth today.

 

 

 

We have a nice evening planned. We had Chinese BBQ pork and rice for supper (homemade, of course) and we have a movie to watch while the snow flies. Yes. We’re going to be groundhogs this winter weekend!

 

Spooking: Bad Behavior or Second Nature?

 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When it comes to horses, this question has always lingered in the back of my mind. The reason for it is that, while 95% of the time Sully is really laid back, and pretty well bomb-proof, even he has his “horse” moments. These moments typically arise when asked to do something he’d rather not, or when he’s already having a bad day. They also tend to be directed at non-scary objects, things that he’s seen and not reacted to a hundred times before, in places we ride frequently. I have a rule of thumb when out riding: if it startles me, it only makes sense that it would startle him, and I offer no consequence for those occasions. Startling things happen from time to time. Things like flushing game birds, deer popping out of the woods, gun-shots or loose livestock.  Every equestrian expects them, and good equestrians always ride as though one is around every corner.

 

I’ve known people whose horses are constantly a nervous wreck, and one thing I’ve noticed is that these horses typically don’t act scared. They’re often tuned out from their people, independent, angry or disinterested. And the people are afraid of them, which only fuels the fire. Trainers and riding instructors are called in, endless arena and desensitizing work is done, and if the horse is truly afraid, much success is had. But many horses return to the bad behaviors as soon as their rider is left alone with them.

My theory? People teach their horses how to behave. If your horse is behaving badly, rather than chalking it up to a horse being

horse, take a good hard look at not only how you handle him from the saddle, but firstly how you handle him from the ground. Are you  paying attention to every action and reaction? How do you react to a spook? Do you freeze up, get nervous, and leave the scary area? That’s what I did. Sully very quickly learned that he could intimidate me. A little jump, and suddenly, all cues stopped. His spook successfully broke contact, and he could do his own thing.

 

If a spook is for real, it lasts a 10th of a second.That’s it. It happens, we may stop and stare for another second, but then we return to whatever attitude we had right before it happened. If a spook is a ploy, the behavior drags out until the horse gets what he wants from you, usually a frightened dismount or a turn for home and the end of work.

 

I’m no trainer, so I can’t tell you how to proceed from that point. Every horse is different, every rider is different.

 

I stumbled across a book a few weeks ago on the clearance table at Tractor Supply Co. called Ride the Right Horse, by Yvonne Barteau. This impulse buy has changed the way I communicate with Sully, and therefore is gradually improving our riding experience. Yvonne and her husband, Kim, surmise that there are various personalities of horses, and each has a unique way of dealing with its environment. Through reading this book, I was able to pinpoint the type of horse I have as being an aloof-social type. Aloof horses are independent loners. They don’t like to partner with anyone, man or beast. They are not easily frightened, but they are easily overwhelmed. They can become over-stimulated by too much outside information, and when this happens, they simply tune out. Social horses love to be around everyone. They are easily taught silly tricks and don’t do well on their own. They rely on their herd for safety and company. If you’re like me, you’re thinking, “Well, gosh, an Aloof-Social mix is a complete contradiction!” Not really, though.

 

horses (Photo credit: willg willg.photography)

Sully shows definite aloof tendencies, and it comes out as the dominant personality. He’s content on his own most all the time except feeding time. He definitely tunes out my riding cues when something more stimulating comes along, like a cow or a sparrow in a bush. But he’s social on his own terms. He’s formed a bond with a few specific people, myself and my mother being the two main ones, and wants nothing more than to please us most of the time. That’s the social behavior.

 

The book states, too, that the aloof mixes are actually the easiest to train, and good for beginners, as their reactions to everything are typically pretty subdued. I have definitely found this to be the case.

 

 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Riding him with this personality in mind, for instance, past those pesky pigs, I’ve seen a huge improvement in just two rides. Rather than increasing aids as he takes his attention off me and thus over-stimulating him and causing him to shut down completely, I remove all aids and wait. If this means we stand in one spot for a few minutes, that’s fine. After he’s had a little time to process the source of his fear, I start asking for an ear (acknowledgement) by lightly touching his girth with my heel, or picking up one rein. As soon as he acknowledges me, I remove the aid. Repeat, only this time, ask for a step, quietly, and when you get it, remove the aid. Allow him time to process each request independent from everything else.

 

This has worked amazingly. The first time, he proceeded to walk through the area with his neck low at a normal speed. No spinning. No blind backing. No crazy sidepasses. I really couldn’t believe it.

 

So this is the way we are proceeding, until it stops working. As for the spooking, the book confirmed my suspicions; when my horse

(Photo credit: gem66)

spooks, he’s usually just breaking contact with me because he’s feeling overwhelmed rather than afraid, and now that I know this is what is happening, I immediately pick up contact again rather than freezing and removing all aids for fear of a bolt. So far, it’s doing the trick.

 

The real test will be this spring.

The Art of Repurposing

Well, it’s not really art. But it’s nice to be able to take an item that has outlived its original purpose and give it a whole new purpose. I did this with Sully’s old halter. It was a draft size, and always looked too big and bulky on his head; even though Sully’s head is huge, it’s surprisingly fine, almost Arabian in appearance. He lacks the Roman nose and boxy muzzle of the draft line.

The halter new, back in 2009. Not bad for a $5 halter!

But I used this halter for 3 years, after purchasing it for just $5 from Horseloverz.com. The throat snap finally sprung, and I used it for a few more months before upgrading. But all the webbing is in tact, and the hardware, though partially rusted in parts, is still good. So I took it and turned it into a harness for Blue.

Our first time out with the new harness.

In the past 3 years, I’ve repeatedly attempted to train Blue to stay with us while we’re riding, but since our riding is all on the road, I’ve never been able to get him to keep up. He’s kind of a slow dog, doing pretty well with sprinting, but he has a hard time keeping pace. So in addition to just keeping him close, I also need a way to get him on the horse with me for short rests. This harness allows me to comfortably and safely lift him off the ground, and then “buckle him in” to the back of the saddle so he doesn’t slide off. In time, I hope he’ll both be able to keep up, and “ride” on Sully’s rump – you know, like the heelers ride the backs of the sheep during musters!

He and Sully both did great on our first time out.

I have a light-weight nylon cord that I clip to the saddle so I don’t drop it; it serves to remind Blue of his boundaries, and is quick release should we run into trouble.

 

The Art of Consistency

English: “Golden girl” – Horses (unknown breed, Isabelle or Palomino coloured): Mare with a foal, somewhere in Surrey, UK (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Consistency is not something that comes naturally to most, certainly not to me. But the single greatest lesson horse training has taught me is how to be consistent. Even after six years of practicing, it is something I have to constantly remind myself about. With a quiet, well-trained horse, consistency starts to fall by the wayside; you don’t even notice it has until some form of misbehavior from the horse manifests itself, and your first reaction is to blame the animal. It’s not the animal’s fault. That’s not to say it’s acceptable, either! But the horse is only doing what he knows he can do. If you were consistent, he would already know he couldn’t get away with the behavior.

I’ve had an interesting spring this year with Sully. He’s displayed some behaviors that he has not tried since he came out of training as a green-as-grass three-year-old. Things like throwing little bucks during the first lope of a ride; spooking at everything that moves; evading the bit; not yielding to leg pressure. I started paying closer attention to the way I ride, and I realized that I’ve been teaching those very behaviors I detest! I let him buck by not disciplining him the first time he did it. I allow the spooking by rewarding him for it by allowing him to stop and face whatever it was; this was acceptable for a young horse with confidence issues, but for a seasoned veteran, I should have been making him carry on as though nothing happened. He evades the bit because I’ve gotten into the habit of not requiring contact with it; it is more work for the rider to keep the horse on the bit, and if you’re walking down a straight road, it is more relaxing to let him do what he wishes with his head. He ignores leg pressure because when I ask for a yield, I don’t follow through and MAKE him yield; that is, not releasing pressure until the desired movement is attained.

A perfect example happened this morning. I had him in the back field and we were galloping circles on the flat area. Suddenly Blue burst out of the woods, and Sully spooked by leaping forward, threw up his head to evade the bit at the same time, and then ignored my leg as I tried to direct him since I had no contact with his mouth. I lost a stirrup and thought we were headed for a massive wreck; then I mentally gathered myself. I sat down in the saddle and found the bit and threw him into reverse. Even though all I wanted to do was stop and collect myself, I pushed him right back into the lope keeping consistent leg pressure and pushed him back onto the bit. Those few frightening seconds quickly morphed into a delightfully responsive horse who did his maneuvers flawlessly from then on out.

Horse training never ends. You don’t reach a point with your 4, 8, 15 or 26 year old horse where he no longer needs guidance. And the guidance he needs is for his rider/trainer to be consistent and fair, not just while doing dressage tests, going over trot poles or trail riding, but every single time you interact with him. Inconsistency = unfairness. I have noticed that Sully never “rebels” against discipline when he started out doing wrong. He knows that if he bucks, he’s going to get whacked on the butt with a riding crop. He knows that if I apply leg and he doesn’t respond, he’s going to get spurred. He knows that if he crowds me in the field, he will get sent away from me.

Bottom line, if you don’t like how your horse is acting, take a look at your interaction with him. It’s probably your own fault.

Today A Post About Yesterday

Sometimes I do so much in a day, physically, that sitting down and blogging about it afterward is as exhausting as reliving that day. But I do want to share the day I had yesterday.

It began with a bike ride to the barn, and I decided since I was in no big hurry, it would be a great day to take Blue along. Blue has the stamina of a long distance hauler, but only at moderate speeds. He’s a sprinter when it comes to high speed. Taking him along when I’m biking means I have to really slow down the downhills so he can sort of keep up. If I get too far ahead he forgets he’s supposed to be keeping up and allows his nose to distract him.

The trip over went well. He kept up better than usual, and was very focused. Sully got a spa treatment while he had his breakfast; I groomed him, worked on his relaxing his hind legs when I pick them up to pick hooves, and combed out his tail which I had washed and conditioned the day before. His attitude was so compliant that, instead of taking him down to the arena to practice poles, I hand grazed him for a little while. I began teaching Blue a “hold” command, handing him the end of Sully’s lead and making him keep it in his jaws until I told him to drop it.

After all that big fun, I mucked the paddock again. Then rode home.

On the way home, Blue was far less focused, and I had to stop six or eight times to get him off the road. The hardest part of taking him is keeping him on the shoulder; he always wants to run down the yellow line, which makes me nervous. I have to say, the worry over him takes a lot of the fun out of my cycling!

We made it home, and then it was bath time. Bathing Blue was at the top of this week’s To Do list, and I finally accomplished it… twice! It took two good lathers with my Hartz oatmeal shampoo to get the gray out of his white. Then I turned him loose to run high speed circles around the house while I used the electric weed eater to whack weeds around the house and barn. What I did not consider was the pile of grill ash Steve has been dumping on my garden. I finish my whacking and call for Blue. When he came around the corner my heart sank; my gleaming white dog was the color of soot.

Out came the hose again, and he got a second shower that he was none too happy about! This time, he got tied in the grass in a sunny spot to dry. Fool me once, you little twit!

Following all that, there was a space of time for a shower, lunch, a load of laundry and some grocery list composing. Then Mom came over and we went for a walk. Our walk showed us two interesting things, the first being brilliant splashes of pink and green in the clouds at about 1 o’clock south. The sky was deep blue, and there were multi-textured white clouds, and these colors occurred inside one of the clouds. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. We thought perhaps it was a sundog, but there was no second one. The color lasted and changed for the duration of the time we walked southward, then was gone.

The second thing was that our neighborhood killdeer, which you can see here, has a family! All her efforts to protect the eggs she had apparently laid on the side of the road have paid off, and we got to see the tiny killdeer chicks up close and personal. The two adult birds were going nuts, screaming and flailing in front of us, and I noticed that when the little ones started running the wrong way, papa killdeer would swoop out of the sky and literally knock the wayward kid in the right direction. I love to watch animals parent. They just don’t screw it up like people do! The little bird would stand back up, shake its head, and head off in the right direction, or risk another fly-by ass-kicking by dad!

I leashed Blue to ensure he didn’t make a snack of the baby birds, and mom and I stood and watched them until we decided we’d tormented the parent birds with our presence long enough. On our way home from town today, I intend to stop and try to get a couple of pictures. I don’t know if I’ll succeed or not! It may be a risk of life and limb to get that close; the big birds are determined in their custodial duties!

After our walk, I crashed for the rest of the day. I finished my grocery list, laundry, and the dishes Mom started for me, and made a chicken and ham casserole for dinner. I then succumbed to the modern marvel of gas-powered transportation for the evening feeding. Steve and I settled in and watched a movie that I slept through the majority of.

And that was my day. You may now rouse yourself and continue on with yours!

The Runaway

You know those cartoons where the one character looks at the other and sees that other character as what they wish they were? Like when the Coyote saw the Roadrunner as a zooming roasted bird. I was seeing Sully as a bag of Purina dog food this morning.

I should start by noting how much progress he’s made over the poles. We’ve been training over them for two weeks, although weather has cut the actual sessions by about half that. But today, the weather was perfect, and the arena had dried enough to keep from being gloppy and slick. Our session started out with my moving the poles on one side slightly farther apart, and putting him over not just one side at a time, but doing a continuous circle. He was barely knocking them at all.

I found my bareback pad this past weekend. I’d put it away ages ago because I don’t have an English girth to cinch it with. Then I remembered I had two D-ring converters, and I dug them and the pad out and got it rigged so I could use it. I put it on him and attached the side reins to the pommel strap. I then carried my riding helmet and step stool down with us so I could do a little bareback riding when we were done with our training.

I worked him over the poles for fifteen minutes or so. I was actually thinking of doing one more pass, then riding him up to the back pasture and letting him graze for a little while. Then the unthinkable happened; I dropped the longe line.

Sully kept moving around me in ever-widening circles, keeping the end of the line just out of my reach. I tried a voice “whoa, boy,” to no avail. I made the mistake of attempting to chase down the end of the line, and that horse took off like a bat out of hell. Only he didn’t go up one of the two roads, one leading back to the barn and the other to the back pasture. Oh no. He charged up the side of the mountain through the woods.

Dang. It.

I stood there for a minute, listening to the crashing and breaking branches that were the only evidence of his presence. I will admit that I was muttering a few choice phrases under my breath. They became more audible as I set off up the mountainside after him.

After circumventing the property, I found him standing quietly in the middle of the main pasture. The side reins were keeping him from eating, which was perfect. I took a half a second to appreciated that fact. He let me walk right up to him, and we began the long walk back down to the arena.

I worked him hard for another 45 minutes or so. Then I got on him with the help of my trusty step stool and rode him the long way home.

As I came out of the back field into the drive, I heard my Dad calling my name. I hollered back with my location. Turns out they had learned of my runaway steed and had possibly imagined the worst. They came walking up the side of the mountain, Mom armed to the hilt with carrots and a lead rope, prepared to lure and capture the fugitive.

After having biked over from my house, chased Sully through one small corner of the Blue Ridge, and wrestled a steer, I doubted my ability to pedal home, so Dad was kind enough to give me a lift back. Truth be known, I am still recovering.

What did we learn? Do NOT let go of the longe line. And hopefully, Sully learned that he did no more than earn himself an extra long workout!

Third Walk/Jog Session

I worked Sully for barely half an hour this morning. The ground is soggy and slippery, and he actually fell down once. He wasn’t misbehaving, just hit a marshy patch and slid. We stopped then. Falling never seems to bother him, and rather than freaking out, he always just gets back up and stands there, like, Okay, I’m done! Somestimes I wonder if he does it on purpose!

He did even better today. He’s already caught on that 2 perfect passes over the poles means we get to move on to something else. He also responded to the “trot” command today, so it wasn’t a coincidence. He actually does know what it means.

I’m training myself, too. I’m being very disciplined about using the correct command for the gait I’m looking for from him. It’s amazing how difficult that is! But it’s fundemental in animal training; if you aren’t consistent, you’re only teaching the animal to a( fear you, because you have what he sees as an unreasonable reaction when he does what you didn’t realize you told him to do, and then you punish him for not doing what you thought you told him to do, when you really didn’t tell him at all, or b( to simply not listen because the commands have no set meaning. The consistency is, I think, the hardest thing for a trainer to learn, and in my experience, all great trainers are rigidly consistent. So I’m working on that. It’s not too bad, because I’ve been working on it with Blue, always reminding myself to use the same word every time when I want a certain behavior. It’s done wonders for my focus, and for Blue’s obedience.

I hopped on Sully again at the end, in my sweats and walking shoes, and he gave me a lift back to the barn. The farrier was out yesterday, and I expressed some concern in the shape of Sully’s feet, and he concurred. He trimmed Sully MUCH shorter, and squared off his toes. Now Sully is incredibly sound all of a sudden with these dainty little round feet. I think the long toe was perhaps putting too much pressure on the heels and the tendons in his lower leg, causing him to stumble and miss steps. The squared toe allows for a swifter break-over, which is the length of time it takes to get the foot out of the way and ready for the following step. A good break-over improves both the stride and the sure-footedness of the horse. There was a notable improvement in his movement this morning, and normally, he acts a little sore the day after a trim. I will stay on top of that, perhaps even doing some between-trim rasping myself, to keep the foot he has now.

I did manage to cycle over this morning, for the first time in a couple of weeks. No breathing issues, even though it was cool. After feeding and working Sully, I biked home. I’m kind of feeling it now…

Our First Session

You may have read about my new “outdoor arena” over here at Proof It. Today, I got to use it for the first time. I tacked Sully and rode down, then did 45 minutes of work on the longe line, some over the poles and some not.

Things that went wrong:

1( Sully was a handful to begin with, and spent the first 15 minutes jumping over the poles. He can clear all four of them when he wants to!

2( One side of my circle is marshy, which was undetectable to me, but quite evident once Sully ran over it. He sank to his shins, and slipped around alot. We had to cut that side off our circle to keep him from falling.

3( I parked him in the center to adjust the distance between the poles… that is a trial and error deal, and I had them too far apart. Sully decided to go home and started walking off. I almost didn’t reach the end of the longe line he was dragging behind him in time. This led to another 10 minutes of high-headed charging around, as he knew he wasn’t supposed to move.

Things that went right:

1( There is lots of room for Sully to stretch out, find his balance, and really cut loose. The ground is pretty even and not too sloped.

2( I did find the perfect distance for the poles. And I did get a number of perfect passes over them from the ground and in the saddle before we ended. He knows what is expected, he just isn’t convinced that I can make him do it. Give me a week.

3( He did not buck on the line today. He always does, and I’m just realizing now that he never did once. This has me wondering if, on a smaller cramped circle, he felt more inclined to expend energy more up and down by bucking and hopping around. With more room, he was able to expend that same energy in forward movement.

So, with a little tweaking, it will be perfect. And as we go forward, Sully will learn what it is I am expecting of him. He has the desire to please me, he always has, so I have no doubt we’ll get there.

We did 45 minutes on the circle, then I rode him up the hill, through the big field and back down through the woods to the barn. I will probably do an abbreviated session with him in the morning, if the weather holds.