Two Good Questions

I've got two good questions to answer today. One on saddle fit, and one about perking up a waaay too mellow horse.
I'll start with the pluggy horse.
I was working a slow, plodding, resentful, burned out pleasure horse. You can imagine how exciting it is to get one of these when you work at a cowhorse training facility.
My job was to get him to respond. He would no longer move beyond a poky little walk without a lot of whacking.
The second I released my death grip with my legs he would slide right back into that stuck in the mud walk.
"What's wrong?" The Big K asked me. "You look irate."
"This horse sucks."
"You have a habit of doing things in reverse."
Great. I was already sulky because I was stuck riding this broken down ode to the slow lane, and now I was going to get a lecture about my shortcomings. It wasn't like I could get busy and start loping circles. I resigned myself to my fate.
The Big K loped his colt around my Rosinante as he continued. "You need to ride a lively horse with a lot of action. You need to whoop and holler, and jump and slide around until that jumpy little critter doesn't care anymore."
"I don't think he cares anymore." I said.
The Big K did a few run downs in the time it took us to get half way around the pen.
"Really, I think he's got the not jumping part figured out." I added.
He had this Cheshire Cat way of grinning at me when he knew I was getting cranky. He flipped one at me as he roll-backed his colt into the fence right in front of Rosinante's unimpressed nose.
"Am I right?" He said.
"Whatever." I replied.
"I said, am I right?"
"Yes."
"Then would it make sense that you should ride a dead-head horse with a whisper?"
He left the arena to go change horses, and let me chew on that one for awhile.
When The Big K dropped that kind of load on me, he was done talking. I was supposed to figure out what he meant, and get it done in short order.
I had plenty of time to think as I plodded around the arena.
I thought back to my Balanced Ride training, ala Monte Foreman, from the early 70's. One of the first things I learned was how to cue my horse.
The first cue is what you wished the horse would respond to.
The second cue was a direct command.
The third cue was when you made it happen.
A very simple method. It worked for flighty horses, it worked for dogs.
The trick was the amount of intensity you used when you got to step three.
So I relaxed completely. Rosinante slowed down even more.
I rolled my calves into him, and gave him a light flex.
Nothing from Rosinante.
I made myself wait for the count of three, and then I gave him a sharp kick.
Nothing.
One more three count and then I went to over and under with the reins, until he loped.
I sat completely quiet, and let him fall back to the walk when he wanted. Which he did the second I quit spanking him.That was OK. We were talking about responding to my cues, not continuing on.
I let him meander along for about ten strides until I cued him with the roll and flex of my calf.
He flicked an ear at me, but that was it.
I did my three count and gave him a kick. He tossed his head, and pinned his ears, but didn't increase his speed even a little.
Count to three, and Whap! with the reins.
Rosinante went into the lope a little quicker than the first time, and went back to the walk the second I relaxed my reins.
He was a little more agitated now, but I kept walking him until he relaxed.
Then I gave him the roll, flex.
He tossed his head and rung his tail.
Counted to three and gave him a kick. He crow hopped.
I counted to three, lifted my rein to spank him, and off we went, before I laid leather on him.
I put down the rein and let him come back to a walk on his own.
We walked long enough to let him calm down, and think a little, and then began again.
I won't say this was quick. But at the end of that day, Rosinante had started to trot with a kick.
The next day, he would trot at a squeeze.
By the end of the week he would walk, trot, lope, and stop with the Big K required whisper.
Here's why it worked.
I kept it simple.
I never varied the chain of cues.
When I got to the Make Him Do It cue, I did.
I didn't make Rosinante maintain the gait I put him in. That wasn't what I was asking. I was asking him to go forward. Now. So that's where I kept my focus.
I stayed quiet.
I didn't cluck, kiss, beg, cry, cajole.
I gave him the cue I wanted.
I showed him I meant it.
I made it happen.
I made him lope when all I really wanted was a trot.
If he ignored me, I insisted on even more effort than he would have had to give, if he had done what I asked.
So if he listened to the nice cue, then he only had to trot.
If he didn't, he had to get a move on.
When he did trot, I sat relaxed and quiet. I wanted the best part of the ride to be when he was showing a little energy. No squeezing, no kissing, not a single giddyup.
I only gave each cue once. This is extremely important. If I consistently ask ten 10 times before
I give the next cue, then Rosinante will only respond after I ask ten times. It's the nature of the beast.
Once I had a good walk, trot, walk sequence, I asked him to stay in the trot. I caught him before he walked, gave the roll, flex squeeze, and expected him to keep trotting. If he didn't, he got the sharp kick, if that didn't work, the reins came into play.
Same set of cues, same sequence.
It didn't take long, and he held his trot as long as I wanted.
I didn't control his speed, he could trot as fast or slow as he wanted. That wasn't what I was asking.
Then we moved onto the lope. Same sequence.
He was all over the whoa. That was his favorite part.
At first, I only asked for one improvement per ride. He got that too.
Before Rosinante left he would transition up or down, and do a respectable reining pattern, all with the softest whisper.

On to the back cinch.
In that picture of Mort and me, I noticed my saddle is quite a bit more forward than I ride them at now. There should be three or four fingers between the cinch and his elbow. My stirrups are a little longer than I ride now too. I also notice that the saddle seat is quite a bit smaller. Sigh.
Sonita was getting a sore back after fence run practice.
I was worried that she had strained her back, or my saddle wasn't fitting right.
I usually worried about these things out loud about two beers into evening.
"I wouldn't call the vet just yet." The Big K said.
I'm a notorious, call the vet over everything, kind of person. On the flip side of the coin, The Big K keeps a pair of pliers in the tack room so he can pull his colt's wolf teeth. Then he hops on and rides them.
"What do you think's wrong?"
"I think you need to tighten down all three of your cinches."
He meant my front cinch, my back cinch, and my breast collar.
"Why? My saddle doesn't slide."
"Well, slide over to the fridge and get another beer."
Keeping that golden nugget of advice in mind, I made sure my cinches were snug the next time we worked cattle.
No more sore back.
When I'm going down the fence at 30 miles an hour and make a slamming turn into my cow, only to get back up to thirty miles an hour going the other way, my weight can't yank the saddle around. If my cinches are tight, my horse can hoist me through that turn, I can rebalance, and we're both good.
If the cinches are loose, at the worst, I'll fall off and die, at the least, my saddle will bang around, and make my horse sore.
Same for trail, barrels, anything that a western horse does with that big old saddle on his back.
I'm going to go make dinner. Catch you guys later.