>We now return you to your regularly programmed horse

>Had a lovely weekend with my horse, which I needed, seeing as how the last horse show made me want to post an ad in the “Horse Giveaways” section of COTH.  All part of the process, reminding me that even the good ones are going to have bad weeks once in a while. 

On Friday we had a lesson, and since the outdoor rings are getting new footing, we jumped in the indoor.  We worked again on getting him to accept a soft contact on both reins, and maintaining that contact around a course.  It was a good lesson and he was very well behaved.  I even carefully demonstrated that one needs both legs along with both hands, otherwise one might make one’s horse jump from a complete standstill, pause for a moment while only half of one’s horse on the other side of the fence, and then one’s horse might have to heave his hind end over to the other side.  Hypothetically speaking, of course.  Ahem.  (Good thing Tucker has a sense of humor!)

On Saturday I rode him out in the field along with Alicia and Junior and had a blast.  I worked on straightness and did some counter-canter, which I thought would be good for making him hold the lead all the way across the diagonal instead of anticipating a lead change.  Then we played around with some of the natural jumps out there.  We jumped the little brush, the stone wall, and then jumped up and down the little bank jump.  Tucker loved it!  It was a good confidence booster for me too, to just go out and have some fun and not think about trying to make things perfect.  We are going to plan a trip and take Tucker and Junior over to Paper Road Farm where I live and jump some of the cross country jumps there.  Should be fun!

On Sunday, since the heat wave was beginning, we went for a nice walking trail ride through the woods and meadows with Oliver, Brooke’s new horse.  Tucker loves trail rides, of course, and thought this was a great way to spend the morning.

>Take the good with the bad…

>So it was one of those “take the good with the bad” kind of weekends in terms of my rides.  On Friday night, I was sleep deprived and cranky from staying up late a few nights in a row for work, and I figured I’d just make it a nice quick hack.  I was trying really hard to leave him alone but it seemed his every day normal things were about to send me over the edge.  Somehow I made him start walking backwards before a canter transition.  Then I heard myself growl at him for bulging through his left shoulder.  Something he does, oh, just about every ride.  He cocked his head back and looked at me: “Um, what’s your problem? We do this every day.  Just put your outside leg on.  Sheesh.”  So, I quit for the night after about ten minutes and gave him a pat.  Not worth it, not fair to him. 

Saturday was a great ride.  He flatted really nicely, great working trot, we played around with our normal working frame and a more relaxed, lower, hunter frame (but still tracking up from behind) and we got two perfect lead changes.  I was able to come across the diagonal, hold him on the current lead but change the bend (a true counter-canter) and then ask him to change his lead with my new outside leg, which he did in a relaxed, fluid manner in both directions. 

Then Sunday, the lead changes were a disaster.  Alicia thinks he was just out partying too hard the night before with the boys (night turnout).  She may be right.  See Exhibit A, to your right.  The left to right lead change was good.  Then the right to left lead change he’d come across the diagonal with not quite enough canter, and then when I’d send him forward he’d just throw his head up in the air and lunge forward but only change the front.  When he inverts like that his hind end naturally falls out behind him and then we lose the connection and I can’t get the change back to front. 

So we took a step back and did some simple changes, making him hold the current lead all the way across the diagonal and not try to change.  We did that until he was quietly holding the lead without trying to do the lead change before I asked.  Alicia’s riding him tomorrow so she’ll talk to him about it.

The jumping on Sunday, however, was excellent.  We worked entirely on my position over the fence, getting me to stay close to him and sink down in my heels when the distances were short instead of standing on my toes and getting ahead of him.  We also worked on me keeping my back straighter instead of rounding my back over top of the fence.  This keeps my upper body back a little more and actually gives me a very secure feeling over top of the jump.  I also then land with my weight in my heels and am able to sit up and balance around the turns sooner.  We still missed every lead change landing from the jumps but we were jumping on a circle and turning through the middle where the footing is a little deep in our big outdoor, so I’m not going to worry too much about it. 

The best part of the jumping was the simple fact that I was able to concentrate 100% on my position, and not think at all about having to make adjustments to Tucker.  I think that means he’s becoming a packer!  A year or so ago, my position was always important because it affects the way he jumps, but it was never something I could concentrate on exclusively because I had to think about his straightness, his rhythm, his pace, collection, softness, etc.  Now, all that comes so naturally to him that I can just think about me.  (Don’t I sound spoiled?)

I can’t help wishing that we were nailing down these lead changes though.  I know I need to be patient and they will probably just work themselves out the more Tucker horse shows and jumps, but I really wish they’d get a little more consistent.  He feels like he’s on the brink of them being automatic some days, and then other days it’s like he has a mental block (or maybe I have a riding block?).  All in good time, I guess.  And take the good with the bad.  Right now there’s a lot of good, so I can’t do too much complaining.

>Tucker, this is your pilot speaking….

>I had a two hour marathon lesson this afternoon.  No, Alicia is not a slave-driver. . . it really took me two hours to get it together.  I’m incredibly sore right now, but I’m feeling very satisfied with the ride overall, despite the fact that it included some really dreadful moments.

Here’s a diagram of the course:

We started off jumping fences numbered 1 and 3 above, which were green and white verticals set at around 2’6,” starting off on the right lead jumping fence 3, landing and turning left, then cantering all the way down the long side of the ring and then down over fence 1, landing and turning right.  First two times were good, went up to 3′ and they were still working out well, but then on my third time to fence 3, I lost my rhythm in the corner and then we accelerated all the way to it and it ended up a little tight.  Not terrible, but not exactly right.  Then we fixed it and fence 1 off the left lead was good, I sat through my turn and compressed his canter but kept a good rhythm, and he found the jump right out of stride.

Then we did the full course.  Fence 1 off the left lead, then the outside line (2a and 2b) in 3 strides, which was a 3′ burgundy & blue vertical to a 3′ red white and blue oxer.  Around the end of the ring to fence 3, turning left, jumping fence 4 on the diagonal, which was another 3′ vertical gate, landing right, then long approach to the brick wall oxer on the outside.  The first two times through I think the course went okay, but the outside line was pretty tight both times because we jumped in really nicely, which meant he landed with more canter than we needed, and I tipped my upper body at him and shoved my hands in my lap whilst standing in my stirrups trying to fit it in (totally and completely ineffective, why do I do these things to myself? why?), so he never really collected and it was more like 2 and a half. 

Then things started going a little downhill.  We were doing just the outside line, and Alicia told me to get a quiet, collected canter and then just soften for three strides, instead of landing too big and then having to fight to fit in three strides.  So, we got a really quiet canter and a nice soft quiet distance in.  And then I did nothing (another shining example of my unerring judgment).  And then I realized at stride three (hopelessly too late to do anything besides grab mane and mutter $&%@!) that we were miles away from the oxer.  Any other horse I know wouldn’t have left the ground.  Any such horse would have been well within his rights to politely decline to perform acrobatic feats on my behalf.  Not Tucker, who is clearly blinded by love.  That saint of a horse just sat down, pushed off as hard as he could from behind, cleared the tops of the standards, and landed gracefully on the other side. 

About midway through this monumental effort I felt that horrible moment that most jumping riders have felt at some point or another when no part of me was touching any part of him.  My hands were still on the reins, my feet were still in the stirrups. . . so I couldn’t be that far away.  “Tucker, this is your pilot speaking, requesting permission to land. . . .”  Somehow despite the fact that I know I landed like a ton of bricks, he just loped around the corner with that “well, gee, she sure made that difficult but oh well” attitude that makes me love him so much.  Big pats, thank you Tucker, sorry about that, you’re a Good Boy. . . . 

I struggled with that outside line for the next hour.  No exaggeration.  There was a lot of this:  Canter around the corner with a good rhythm, get straight to the fence, Tucker starts slowing down, I do nothing except wonder why we are slowing down, and then crawl up his neck for a really ugly chip.  I think he was slowing down because he thought that’s what I wanted, or thought that’s what he needed to do.  But you’d think that if that wasn’t what I wanted, I’d do something to clue him in like, oh I don’t know, close my leg? Instead, I circled out of the line about ten times after eating the vertical, seeking to avoid a repeat of the above-described permission-to-land circumstances.  Then I’d try to fix it, by overriding, coming at it way too strong, and then getting down the line in two-and-a-half. 

The good news:  my horse is really listening and super adjustable!  The bad news:  when I start riding badly I’m about as subtle as a sledgehammer and tend to communicate messages like “GO!  GO NOW!  RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!” instead of “Okay Tucker, we need to move up a little here.”   *Sigh.*  I’m a work in progress.

We ended on a positive note, finally managing a decent outside line after oh, say, at least two dozen tries, and then the rest of the course was really good, even the long approach to the brick wall oxer.  We did have to jump the brick wall twice before we ended.  The first time I got a little impatient and leaned at him.  The last time, I just sat up nice and tall, opened my right rein for two strides to tell him to stay straight, and then it was a perfect distance and I held my position and landed with a nice balanced canter around the end of the ring.

In spite of all my bad riding (and believe me, I really want to come down hard on myself on this one), I ended the lesson feeling pretty good as I took Tucker for a walk down the driveway.  A year ago, if we had a few bad fences in a row like that, Tucker would start getting really worried and completely flustered and we’d likely have to simplify the exercise to cantering over a pole on the ground in order to make any sort of progress. Today, I screwed him up six-ways-to-Sunday and he couldn’t have cared less. Never got worried, never got upset, just kept thinking it through and trying to figure out what I was asking. (Bless his heart, because I haven’t a clue what I was asking.)  So that’s major progress.  And for the most part, although I was definitely getting into a deep mental rut because I was getting so frustrated with myself (I mean get it together already lady would you?), I didn’t have the terrified panicky feeling that I’ve felt in the past.  So, while I still have some more mental coaching to do with myself, there’s some progress there too.

All in all, I am very lucky to have a horse as tolerant and athletic as Tucker, and believe me I take none of it for granted.  Tolerance:  for days like this when it takes me an hour to keep making the same mistakes before finally fixing them.  Athleticism:  for the moments when I make his job truly difficult and somehow he gets it done anyway.  I left him this evening with sore-no-more on his back and legs, standing wraps on all fours, and lots of extra treats for being such a good guy. 

>Blessings

>Tucker & I had a great jumping lesson yesterday.  Everything just clicked, and we easily jumped around a 3′ course without any issues.  Just before we started jumping, Alicia told me “less is more.”  And she was right.  All I really have to do is think about my position, especially where my hands are — I need to elevate my hand, keep a relatively short rein, and keep my elbows bent and following.  As long as I keep myself in the right place and count the rhythm, Tucker basically takes care of the rest.  And when I land from the fence, I need to get myself back to that same position, regain my seat, bring my shoulders back, and elevate my hand.  Otherwise, if I stand in the stirrups and plant my hands on his neck (yeah, I know that’s bad riding but for some reason my body persists in this ludicrous habit), Tucker gets on his forehand, leans against my hand, and then it’s a struggle to get myself back in position while he’s dragging me through the turn.  But if I put myself back in the correct position before the turn, Tucker keeps the same balanced canter and the tug of war never occurs.

I had a much longer post planned about this lesson, but some of my blog reading this week has made another topic seem far more important.  Some of my favorite bloggers, Eye on the Horse and Sweet Horse’s Breath, were dealt some very difficult horse news this past week.  In addition, one of the boarders at my barn recently had to say goodbye to her horse Vince, who’s made a couple of appearances on the blog.  I was going to post a little memorial about him but decided maybe it’s not my place since he wasn’t my horse.  I’m not sure, if I were in her shoes, whether I’d want that or not. 

Which got me thinking:  I could be in her shoes at any moment, and someday, I will be.  These big beautiful creatures are both incredibly strong and impossibly fragile.  The good ones, the ones that really steal our hearts, will do anything for us.  They love us regardless of our flaws, no matter how many mistakes we make.  They love us even though we’re always running late, we sometimes show up right at dinner time, and we never get dolled up to see them.  If we disappear for days on end or even weeks, they love us even more when we show up.  They help us out of jams, sometimes performing feats nothing short of miracles, over and over again, and they never question or complain. 

And in return, we take the best care of them that we can.  We dote on them, keep their favorite treats on hand, groom the itchy spots a little longer, and kiss their soft noses.  We get them the best farriers, vets, chiropractors, accupuncturists, massage therapists, and all the best products that money can buy.  We keep them perfectly outfitted and buy anything we think might improve the quality of their lives even slightly.  We’ll always manage to figure out a way to pay for something if we think they need it.  In short, we show them we love them every way we know how.

But sometimes, all the love in the world isn’t enough.  Sometimes, taking the best care of them that we can means that we have to let go of them.  They are athletes, and like any sport, there’s always a risk of injury.  So in order to do what we love, and let them do the jobs that they enjoy so much, we have to take that risk.  The best thing we can do is just be thankful for every day, every ride, every great lesson, and every special memory.  And most of all, be thankful to be a part of this very special partnership.

I don’t mean to suggest that we don’t appreciate our horses.  No one I know takes her precious equine friend for granted.  But in light of the fact that some of my friends have some incredibly difficult times ahead, I just thought it would be good for us all to remember how very lucky we are to have these amazing animals in our lives.  I’ve read more than once that our pets are one of life’s biggest blessings, but it’s one of life’s biggest tragedies that we are destined to outlive them.  I hope that my friends who are going through such tragedy right now can find some of the blessings amongst the heartache.

>Flat lesson

>I had a great flat lesson tonight.  I’ve been having trouble keeping him straight so I wanted a flat lesson to work on that.  Man did I work my little tail off…

I got on a little before Alicia came into the ring and worked on walking in straight lines.  I’d ask him to stay between both hands and legs straight down the quarter line for half the long side, then ask him to leg yield just 3-4 steps, alternating left-to-right and right-to-left.  I tried to do the leg yields toward the mirrors so I could be sure that his haunches and shoulders stayed in line. 

Then we started off the lesson walking big circles.  To really get the correct bend and have him reach under himself with the inside hind, I had to ask him to bend through his middle with my inside leg at the girth, keep him straight on the outside rein so he didn’t just bulge through his shoulder, keep my outside leg back and on his side to keep his haunches from swinging out, and open my inside hand. 

We moved on to the trot, and worked a lot on the same bending and reaching under through the inside hind, as well as getting him to soften into a steady contact on my outside rein, bringing my outside rein open and back.  Lots of transitioning from sitting trot to rising trot, while maintaining the same forward rhythm and active engagement, which required tons of work with my seat and leg.  Alicia told me to think about using my whole leg, not just my calf or my spur, both for the bend and to keep him between both hands and legs down the long sides — which really helped — but man am I sore right now!  By the time we were done with the trot work though, I had a really great trot:  light and forward, soft and bending, elevated in front and engaged behind. 

The canter was tough but it did steadily improve.  We started off the left.  My trouble with his left lead canter all stems from my right hand.  It’s another chicken-or-the-egg scenario.  As to various bad habits that we’ve developed, I constantly find myself wondering whether Tucker started it or I did.  Probably me, maybe a little of both, but I always wonder. Tucker doesn’t really like to accept the contact on the right rein, so he resists it.  As I’m trying to hold the right rein, and not let him pull it out of my hand, I end up burying my right hand against his neck, with the old “piano hands” and my elbow ends up sticking out instead of resting at my side.  Of course, this creates a very resistant feel on the right side, which Tucker doesn’t want to give to, and then since he’s braced and stiff on the right I end up trying to soften left, which is exactly what he wants because he’d much rather take the left rein than the right. 

So we worked a lot on getting me to lift my right hand and bend my elbow, so my elbows are softly following but I have a consistent feel on his mouth and he has nothing to brace against (no buried right hand).  Interestingly, when we started cantering a cavaletti, which was set in the middle of the ring on the center line, the first three circles he’d dive to the inside (left) to try to avoid the contact on the right side.  So I had to really work at pushing him out with my left leg, carrying my right hand, and feeling the right rein — a little open and back toward my hip.  I have to remember when he falls in to the left to correct it with my left leg, not my left hand.  By the end of the left lead canter he was accepting my outside right rein, so then I just had to keep the canter forward and connected with my seat, keep him bending around my inside left leg, and keep my right leg back in the turns to keep his haunches from swinging out.  (Oh, is that all?)

Since it was such a good canter, I was able to keep the forward and the softness through the downward transition and he really reached through with his hind end into the walk.  We’ve been working on that downward transition for months, so I was really happy that he did it right.  I think he’s finally understanding what we want.  He couldn’t seem to figure it out at first.  He was walking when we asked, so what was the problem?  Now he understands that he has to walk and keep coming forward from behind, not balance against my hand or fall forward through the transition.

Then we moved on to the right lead canter.  Big thing here is that I actually have to push my left shoulder forward in order to follow him around the turns.  Since I always want to be taking the left rein, that necessarily brings my left shoulder back.  So even though my hips turn toward the inside to follow him, my upper body is actually twisting and I end up resisting him not just through my shoulder but also the small of my back.  But when I forced myself to push my left shoulder forward, all of a sudden he was softly accepting both reins, not hanging on the left rein or trying to bulge through his left shoulder, and holding the right bend without over-bending.  So… in other words… once I finally was sitting straight… he started going correctly.  Amazing:  (1) how simple this solution is; and (2) how incredibly awkward and unnatural the “correct” position feels. 

The right lead downward transition was tougher but after several attempts we finally got a good one.  It’s funny, tracking right we actually got two good downward transitions but he only trotted for a step and then stepped right back up to his canter.  Doesn’t seem to fully understand that when I’m sending him forward into the downward transition, I don’t mean “keep cantering.”  I think that might mean that my contact is less consistent to the right.  I might be letting go of the contact at the last minute instead of keeping a feel of his mouth.  I’ll have to pay close attention to this during my next ride.

So, overall, a very technical ride but an excellent lesson.  I love a good solid flatwork session.  Always makes me feel so productive. 

Update on the stitches:  I took them out yesterday and it looks great.  Should heal really nicely and hopefully won’t leave much of a scar.  Man was he glad to get those out — they were definitely starting to itch!

Coming soon:  Pictures of Tucker free jumping… I promise, you will be amazed.  I’m beyond impressed with him.  My horse is a rock star, plain and simple.

>Hello out there Tucker fans!

>This post coming to you live from my new Dell laptop. . . . it is spiffy and shiny and blue, and I’m sure will inspire nothing but brilliant prose for your reading pleasure.

As some of you know, I left my job at my former place of employment on Friday the 18th, and have been without laptop/blackberry (read: footloose and fancy-free) for a whole week. It’s been wonderful. I got to spend some time with my new week-old niece, Ella Grace, spent a wonderful afternoon with Nicku from Eye on the Horse, and best of all took three lessons last week. When I showed up in the middle of the day on a Tuesday to ride, Tucker was feverishly thumbing through his daily planner and couldn’t figure out what day it was. But I think after his initial confusion subsided, he was really happy to have me around all week.

My first lesson you can pretty much read about on Nicku’s post, but I’ll go ahead and give a little more detail. We worked on getting Tucker to engage his inside hind end and then worked on my position over fences. A little lightbulb moment for me: when I can keep him balanced from behind on our approach to the fence, he typically lands with the same balanced canter and almost always will get his full lead change. This requires the perfect combination of a few things. He has to be collected back-to-front in the corner and on the approach, and then I either need to keep that collected canter with my seat, leg, and hand or just allow him to extend his stride if the distance is longer without chasing him or letting him get strung out or on his forehand. Regardless of whether the distance is tight or long, he needs to jump free of my hand, without pulling as he leaves the ground, which requires me to stay back with my upper body and hips, carry my hand, and soften and follow as he leaves the ground. When he approaches balanced, he jumps well, lands balanced, and has an auto-lead change. Makes perfect sense, right?

My second lesson was a flat lesson. We used the chambon, and worked on hind-end engagement again, and getting him to stretch down without getting off balance and without losing the connection. He flatted extremely well, and we really like him in the chambon, so I’ll definitely keep incorporating that into my routine now and then. It helps him reach down into a lower frame without locking through his jaw or poll and without trying to balance off my hand as he reaches down. Since he stays soft and light up front, I can just concentrate on moving him off my inside leg and keeping an inside bend through his whole body. Overall, great lesson.

My third lesson was a semi-private yesterday with Kathleen and her horse Rodie. It was a lot of fun and very productive. We worked on haunches-in on the flat. I need to work on maintaining my inside bend and not letting him get too much angle and swing his hips to the inside. When I keep less of an angle, I can feel that he’s working harder and staying engaged from behind.

He was a little fresh that day, so the first few jumps we landed and halted on a straight line, which helped. We started jumping courses, and since Kathleen does the jumpers we did some roll back turns and broken lines, which were really fun and different than our usual routine. Tucker is so rideable for stuff like that, he makes it all seem kind of simple.

During this lesson I really worked on waiting for him to make a decision about the distance, and taking my cues from him. If I really concentrate on how he feels, I can tell whether he wants to wait or move up, and then I can guide him accordingly, by either using my voice, staying close to him with my seat and balancing for a quieter distance, or lightening my seat a little and softening my hand if he sees a longer distance. It’s amazing how well that works. Tucker has a great eye! Alicia had me count out loud (1-2-3-4) on the way to the fence and landing, and that helped immensely. As Alicia put it, counting out loud just helps us keep up with them, because they naturally will regulate their own rhythm.

All in all, it was a really good lesson and lots of fun. I walked away feeling very connected with him, which can be a blessing and a curse. He is so incredibly perceptive of my every little move that, as long as I work on staying on the same page as him, it can be almost effortless. On the flipside, if I get the slightest bit tense, he’ll get tense, which is when he starts trying way too hard and making too big of an effort. It’s all about staying relaxed and focused and trusting my horse.

It’s great to be back! I promise I’ll catch up on all your blogs this week!

>Knock it off, and get over it

>So we had our lesson this morning and it wasn’t all pretty but it was a great learning experience.

We worked on the flatting and it seems, as far as the counterbend goes, when I want to go back to an inside bend and he then wants to get heavy on the inside rein, I need to shoulder-in. We did quite a bit of shoulder-in work today and I was very happy with how that went. Tucker was listening and when I was asking correctly was really responding well. I love when that happens, when the horse acts like a barometer for how correctly you are applying your aids. Ask right, get the right result. It doesn’t always happen, sometimes you ask right and they still don’t want to cooperate 100%, but in Tucker’s best moments he is just like that. I had a lot more control over his hind end both laterally and in terms of staying connected, which I was happy about. Our canter transitions, both upward and downward, still need quite a bit of work. But our flat work within the gaits, including lateral movements, is really coming along.

We did a lot of work with three cavaletti set nine feet from each other on the long side of the arena. He was great through them at the trot. We discovered that tracking left when I was posting on the wrong diagonal, I had more weight on my inside seat bone and the trot improved. Thought that was really interesting. During the left lead canter he wanted to flatten out and rush through the cavaletti, so we worked on me sitting tall, leg long, lifting my hand and eye and keeping him straight with right rein and left leg. He improved as we went, and we added trot work in between, and some shoulder-in, to get him re-focused and listening again.

Then we started jumping. We started trotting in to a short two-stride with a nine-rail in front (a ground pole set nine feet from the first fence). The first time through he didn’t listen when I asked him to wait so he was tight jumping out, and then the second time through he was smarter about it, which was great. Then we added a third jump to the line, so it was a short two-stride to a short three-stride. Same thing, the first couple of times through the three-stride he blew me off and didn’t wait, then he got smarter about it and started listening. I was really happy with how I was able to hold my position over all three fences, my leg stayed under me, my upper body was good, and to get the collection in the lines I remembered to sit, press forward with my hips and lift the hand. One of the best moments was when he landed on his left lead, cantered one stride and did a full left-to-right lead change. Brilliant. Once he got into the routine, he almost always landed right. Smart boy. So that part was really good.

Then we added two diagonal fences. The first was a wall (it’s about 2’6″) with no standards. That one went really well. Then there was a 3′, pretty airy oxer with fake flowers on the ground in the middle of it. The first time we jumped this, Tucker saw a distance that I didn’t see and left the ground well before I thought he was going to. It actually ended up fine, I was in a good position to start with so I just grabbed a little mane and stuck with him. That one made us laugh pretty hard though.

We did the whole thing again, and this time to the oxer I didn’t see it and we were really deep, he had a rail and landed all pissed off doing his violent head-swinging, leaping, scooting business around the corner. But, it was kind of my fault that he had the rail so I wasn’t really going to fault him. We went back to the wall on the other diagonal, again that went well — I asked him to add and he politely listened. This time to the oxer he was really naughty. The distance was right there and one stride out he just dragged me past it and jumped up huge, and then threw the same temper tantrum through the corner, and this time it was worse. There was a second where I thought I was coming off straight into the wall but then I managed to hang on. It was so uncalled-for that I yanked him up and slammed him to a halt in the next corner, and growled at him to KNOCK IT OFF. He was so shocked that I got after him so strongly that he actually hopped up into a little mini-rear. But it was well-timed, and deserved. I’m all for being understanding and accepting that he’s a horse and he’s going to have his moments, but that’s up to a point. He also has to learn that he can’t get away with being rude or acting out for no reason.

So we made the oxer a big cross-rail and did it a few times from a slow sitting trot, and Alicia reminded me to soften my hand in the slow sitting trot as we approached so that I wasn’t stiffing him off the ground or coiling him like a spring (which causes him to land explosively), and then making him halt on a straight line. The first time, even from the slow sitting trot he wanted to drag me around the corner but I made him halt and then patted him once he did. Came around twice more at the slow sitting trot with a halt, and then he landed softly and we cantered quietly around the corner. I was really happy to see how quickly he got over himself and started behaving again.

Then we went back to our wall on the other diagonal, and made him land halting there as well. I actually never got a good halt on a straight line there but decided not to have an argument with him about it because he did quietly come back to a halt just past the corner. Then I picked up my canter again and went back to the oxer. Came off the rail and we just kept drifting right so the distance I saw out of the corner disappeared and we got really tight and he punched out the first rail. This caused yet another temper tantrum around the corner, but I got him back under control and this time didn’t pull him up quite so abruptly since he did have the rail and that genuinely upsets him.

Alicia had me turn my right hand upside down. She does this a lot and it really helps — instead of holding the rein with your thumb on top you turn your hand over the way you’d hold a driving rein. The problem was that I wasn’t using my right rein at all as I came out of the turn and he was just drifting all the way to the right of the oxer. So we went back to the single wall, and this time he was more focused. He and I both saw a conservative distance, so all I had to do was stay back with my shoulder and sit very still and he waited nicely. We halted again (slightly past the corner). Then I had a moment of total panic. I walked a small circle and realized I was starting to hyperventilate a little, and I heard Alicia say “You okay?” but I couldn’t answer. If I had stopped for a moment to think about whether I was really okay, I probably never would have jumped the oxer again. So I said to myself “Oh, just get over it,” picked up my canter again and came to the oxer. This time I remembered my right rein, we stayed straight and the distance worked out nicely. He kind of snapped his knees and jumped it really hard but that’s to be expected since he had the rail the time before. On the upside, my leg was anchored solidly underneath me and he didn’t jump me loose. The best part was that he cantered quietly around the end of the ring like a gentleman.

So two things about that jump were great. One, it was great to see how quickly his attitude changed. When we got to the jump well, he didn’t hang on to what he had done during the times before, but instead just behaved himself like he’s supposed to. Two, I was able to get over my fear and anxiety and ride through it. Riding is such a mental game, it’s such a huge accomplishment when we can put aside an emotional or mental block and get the job done by good riding.

>Mid-October already?

>Whew… sorry Tucker fans, I’ve been totally slacking! Can it really be the middle of October already and I haven’t done one post?

I was travelling for part of this time (slight excuse). And I did have the best of intentions for a few good posts. Such as:

1. I have learned that spending a good 10-20 minutes at a working walk at the beginning of our ride makes a world of difference. I always get on and walk for a few minutes, but really making him work at the walk for an extended period of time, instead of just wander around, makes a big difference. Years ago, a dressage instructor told me that the most important thing you can do for a horse is get on and walk for 10 minutes before you start working. I’m going to make sure that no matter what — hacking, lesson, horse show, etc. — that I get on and walk for at least 10 minutes from now on, preferably 15-20 minutes if I can. Helps him loosen up, get ready to work, start listening to my aids, and sets the right tone. Then by the time we’re ready for the first walk-trot transition, he’s already in work mode. Seems pretty basic, right? But amazing how many people just get on and pick up a trot.

2. We had a great lesson outdoors a couple weekends ago, in which I learned that I can ignore Tucker gazing sideways out the side of the ring two strides away from the jump, and Tucker will quickly realize that he needs to pay attention. Even though his stargazing makes me want to micromanage and force him to pay attention, it’s also just as effective (if not more so) to let him learn for himself. I also learned that when he doesn’t want to keep his left bend and is seeking the left (inside) rein, I need to counter-bend, get him accepting the right rein (with which he’s not as comfortable), move his haunches left, and then he’ll wrap around my left leg and bend left without us having a battle over the left rein. So he’ll give on the left without me taking the left. Interesting.

3. While I was away for a week, I realized that I miss Tucker the way people miss their kids or their significant others. I was in Colorado for work and I was actually getting teary-eyed just thinking of his face. I couldn’t wait to go see that sweet face, expressive eyes, and big goofy ears when I got home. I’ll never get sick of that face.

4. Tucker has autumn fever. He’s been wild for the past week! I got on him last Saturday and his trot was HUGE — I’m talking heels clicking together, hind end fully engaged, locked and loaded huge. And when I reached forward to pat him on the neck, he SPOOKED at the, um, wall. Which is obviously terrifying. This behavior was followed by a just delightful canter full of squealing and scooting and tail-tucking and general sentiment of “omigod mommy I’m soooo sorry but I’m soooooo fresh I toooootally can’t help it. . . .” I did my best to stay patient with him, but it wasn’t easy. On what I thought was going to be our last canter circle, he lept into the air in a move popular with Lipizzaner stallions. Needless to say, that was no longer our last canter circle. Sorry Tucker, leaping through the air will buy you another 20 minutes of work. Every time.

5. Tucker lost a shoe on Sunday morning (probably pulled it off with his teeth when he heard that Alicia was going to be riding him to emphasize that the aforementioned behavior is not desirable) so I taped up his foot and took him out grazing while I pulled up a chair to watch one of our new boarders — a very handsome 4-year-old TB — take a jumping lesson. Hanging with him for the afternoon by the ring was probably even better than having Alicia school him. Reminded me how sweet and delightful he is (every so often between clover patches he’d come put his head in my lap, gently groom the top of my head, or otherwise shower me with love and affection like the overgrown labrador that he is), despite the antics from the day before. It’s always good to get a reminder that when they are fresh or naughty, they aren’t being “bad” on purpose. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of that. It’s good to remember that even when they’re misbehaving, they’re just being horses. And they still love you, even though sometimes they leap through the air.

6. Yesterday, I was having a totally rough day. I had a dentist appointment and was planning to work from home for the afternoon. After the appointment, I got in my truck and just drove to the barn, in one of those “I must see my horse right now” moments. And then I stood in the aisle and watched him get his shoe tacked back on. And everything was better. I loved watching how patient he is for the farrier. What a lovely, well-mannered horse I have. It was a gorgeous fall day, the air smelled sweet, and the sun was just starting to set and turning the trees bright orange behind him out past the barn doors. And suddenly everything felt better. Horses are amazing that way.

So, hope you’ve enjoyed the recap. Sorry I’ve been MIA! It’s good to be back.

>Magic

>

So Tucker and I had a great lesson on Saturday. (I realize it’s currently Thursday, but it’s been a busy week.) We tried a new gadget, called an Irish martingale. This is another one of Anne Kursinski’s brain storms. Anne is sponsored by Arc de Triomphe, so the Irish Martingale we have is made by them and I’m guessing will be available at Smartpak soon like the rest of Anne’s gadgets. Since Alicia rides with Anne, we sometimes get things early, like the layered reins and the instant gag. I know I’ve already explained all about the instant gag and its benefits for Tucker. Though of course, like any gadget, overuse is counterproductive, so we don’t use anything on Tucker all the time.

We are currently using both the layered reins and the Irish Martingale. The Irish martingale you see to the right. From what I’ve read, it’s very popular in European racing. I love it because it helps me keep even pressure on both reins and seems to prevent Tucker from bulging through my outside rein contact. It’s very subtle, it doesn’t seem to come into play too often but it’s definitely there when you need it.

The layered reins have also been really effective for us. If you click the link above, you’ll see there are loops in the reins through which you put your hands. It has the dual purpose of teaching you the feeling of having your reins short enough all around a course and teaching your horse not to root the reins or yank them out of your hands. Tucker isn’t generally a horse that pulls you around, but since he is used to his mother riding with her reins too long, and since he is much more comfortable with a big stride, he sometimes protests the contact and roots the reins to buy himself another foot of stride or so. But the layered reins have really helped him learn not to do that. We used them in the winter, switched back to regular reins, and for the past few weeks have been using them again. This time, Tucker is far more understanding and accepting of the contact. Progress!

So our lesson on Saturday was really great. We were in the indoor due to the rain (ugh) but it was really nice to see how Tucker is so much more balanced and jumping a course in the indoor was a lot easier for him now. We did a verticle on the outside to an oxer on the diagonal, to a 4 stride line on the other outside. Sounds simple, I know, but sometimes the simplest exercises can teach you so much.

For one, I learned that I really truly can just trust Tucker to find his own distance. He comes out of the corner and locks on to the fence like one of those radar guns you see on fighter jets in movies. I learned that once he does that, I need to just kind of follow along and not break his concentration. As Alicia put it, chances are, the decision he made is the right one. I also learned that when the jumps go up to 3 feet, I think I need more canter. I don’t. When I just keep the same rhythm I had when it was 2’6″, he jumps it right out of stride.

Tucker also seems to have learned from the gymnastics. The 4 stride line was set 3′ short, so we had to jump in quietly and stay collected. He jumped in quietly and was so good about landing and staying collected that I actually had to soften and follow down the line to have it work out nicely in four. This is huge for us! It seems we have finally conquered the huge stride problem. He really understands now about jumping in quietly and then keeping that same collected, balanced canter when he lands from the jump. I think fixing my position has helped a lot with that too. Alicia has jacked my stirrups up to my eyeballs (I type lovingly) which has really helped me keep my leg underneath me and thus keep myself balanced and in the middle of the horse (rather than lounging somewhere on his neck and having to peel myself off of him upon landing). When I stay in the middle, he lands balanced, instead of landing on his forehand and then us having to regroup.

I had this great feeling at the end of the lesson. We jumped the diagonal oxer one last time, and I just came out of the corner, lifted my eye, and exhaled. My contact was there but soft, my leg was supporting but not chasing, my shoulder stayed back, and then he just casually, gracefully, artfully jumped this 3′ oxer like it was no big deal, landed on his right lead, cantered softly around the corner, and that’s the note we quit on. All I could think was: “Wow. Magic.” Even now, I get chills just thinking about it.

It’s amazing how far we’ve come. When I think back to the struggles we had a year ago, to being able to comfortably jump around a 3′ course, it really does seem like magic. And despite all the troubles in my life right now, for that brief moment, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

>Blind faith

>Last weekend due to rain we had to do our lesson in the indoor. Alicia and I had dinner on Saturday night and she said she felt like Tucker could use some gymnastic work, so it actually worked out just fine.

Tucker used to have such trouble with gymnastics. He would hurry through them, never really sit back and use his hind end, which meant he would have a lot of trouble collecting his stride and end up kind of nose-diving by the last fence. I am happy to say he was much improved this time. This was the gymnastic by the end of the lesson:

We started with just the first vertical, set around 2’3″, and the second fence was just a vertical, not an oxer yet, and no ground poles. First time through, he wasn’t making much effort and just crawled over it the first couple of times. So Alicia added the 9′ trot rail out in front of the first fence and that helped. Once he started paying attention a little, Alicia made the second fence an oxer, set at 2’9″ with a 2’6″ spread. He was doing pretty well; I was having a little trouble not jumping over my hand.

Then Alicia came up with one of her typical strokes of genius — these are the reason we’ll never train with anyone else — and she made me close my eyes. I don’t think I’ve done this in years, but I remember having to jump through gymnastics like this when I was younger. It was pretty amazing. With my eyes closed, I had no choice but to follow his movement and as a result I had to be soft and following with my hands. And like magic, Tucker slowed down, thought about the gymnastic, and as a result started jumping better. We added the ground line between the first and second fence and I could feel him negotiating it. But of course, I had my eyes closed, so I couldn’t interfere. Blind faith. (How lucky am I, seriously? I have a 1200 lb. seeing-eye-dog.)

Then we added the third fence, which was a 3′ oxer with a 3′ spread. He jumped it awesome. Just rocked back on his hind end and jumped up really round and soft and slow. The next time through we added a ground rail between fences two and three, and I could feel him jump the second fence a little slower, land, canter one slow stride and then he jumped the last oxer even better. So cool. Only thing I didn’t like was that he was drifting right! For years we’ve struggled with a left drift, and now he’s going the other way. My theory is that because my eyes were closed and I was following so well with my hands, he was missing the left rein that he usually leans on (due to my bad habit of holding too much on my left rein), and as a result he went right. We’ll sort that out though. The important thing is that he handled the gymnastic well this time. He thought about it, he took his time, and he jumped really well.

We’re doing the gymnastic again tomorrow, and this time going to focus on my position over top of the fence. I could feel my lower leg falling back, which meant my center of gravity got pitched forward, and when he made that big effort and used that powerful hind end of his over the last oxer, I ended up having to peel myself off his neck on landing. So that was a little frustrating. Tomorrow, we are going to tie my stirrups to my girth. Another old trick I haven’t tried in years, but it will really help I think. I also am going to punch a few extra holes in my stirrup leathers so I can get a little leverage. Definitely can’t move up to showing at 3′ until I learn to stay with him, so this is definitely something we need to nail down.

I feel like I owe it to him to figure out how to stay with him when he gives me that much of an effort. Basically, my goal is just to learn to ride well enough to keep up with all the natural talent he has. It’s a funny thing, I think I get so impressed with him in the moment that I stop riding. I’m in the air over top of the fence I’m thinking “Wow, he’s jumping great” instead of concentrating on what I’m supposed to be doing, and then nano-seconds later I realize I’ve totally lost my position and we’re landing in a heap. But there are certainly worse problems to have than being a little starstruck by your own horse.

When I turned around after taking a few pictures of the gymnastic, Tucker was standing right where I left him. I realize he looks like a total giraffe in this shot, but he looked so cute just watching me walk around taking pictures, I had to take one of him. Part athlete, part goof. And I love every hair on his big old head.

I’ll let you know how gymnastics part II goes tomorrow. . . hopefully more good things to post!