Collecting My Thoughts/Sonita Chapter 12

I was still stewing. If I didn’t get Sonita collected I would never get anywhere.
My concept of collection came from a combination of my pleasure horse training and the bits and pieces of dressage I had played with over the years.
My basic premise asked for my horse to drive with her hind legs and push herself into a wall I created with my hands and the bit, encouraging her to lift her back and break at her poll.
Sonita was such an athlete she was in total control of her legs and where she chose to drive them from day one. She could travel a circle at an incredible rate of speed, her hind legs driving with such strength she felt as if she was pushing us up a hill.
Most of the time she accomplished this feat with her nose straight in the air, looking outside our circle, shoulders leaning in and her back hollowed.
She would search for her friends, check out the cattle pens, look for something cool to spook at, anything but focus on what I was asking for. Sonita was best at was hunting out the judges. She was as obsessive about finding the judges as I was about getting her to stay in frame.
Every time we had a hesitation in the middle of the show pen (on average you have at least one or two) Sonita would search the rails or the stands until she found them. Then she would stop, stare at them, blast a warning snort and jump.
Every single time.
As I asked for the lope depart she would slowly walk out a few steps, and lope off in as distracted and half assed a way as possible, bug eyes glued to them through our entire set of circles.
“There they are!” I could feel her almost screaming, “Those weird staring guys are perched up there again! We're going to die you dumb ass!”
The Big K didn’t believe me for the longest time.
“It’s you,” he insisted, “You tippy toe out there all scared and timid and look up at those judges. Sonita’s just reading off you. Get out there and stare those judges down like your going to eat them, not the other way around. Then we'll see if she still watches."
So I tried. I deliberately looked straight ahead on our way into the pen. I actually looked down the fence line away from the judges so The Big K couldn't argue that it was me.
Sonita leaped a good 10 feet. "AAAAHHHH! LOOK, LOOK, LOOK!" She was shouting, "THEY'RE UP THERE YOU MORON!"
The Big K decided maybe it wasn't me, and that we might want to focus on our collection issue.
The Big K is a man of few words. The best way to learn from him is to watch him work. I would tell him my problem and he would show me how he would handle it on his horse.
I watched him collect everything he had.
He came up with one creative drill after another, all done at high speed, each more aggressive than the other.
Sonita got higher, and nastier with each drill.
A few weeks before I stomped off on my "break" from the big wig trainer world I tried hard to explain my problem.
"I think she's confused. This is all too fast for her. She doesn't understand what I'm asking for." I said.
"You are making this too hard. You don't expect enough from her. You keep letting her draw you into a fight instead of staying focused and just getting it done." The Big K replied.
"Maybe I don't understand then. Maybe she's fighting because I'm not asking her the right questions."
"Maybe you need to stop asking and start telling."
This is where we squared off. I was discovering I could not demand anything from my horses, especially Sonita, unless I felt they completely understood what I was asking. In my mind, if I wasn't getting results, then either it was more than the horse was ready for, or I hadn't laid a proper base in my training for them to draw from.
The Big K felt that it was the horse's job to figure out what he wanted, as fast as it possibly could.
"Every day I to ride this baby (3 year old) like he was six. If I expect him to behave like a six year old then eventually he'll get there," he said.
"You can't put a toddler in high school K. He'll just pee his pants and not be able to reach the water fountain." I snapped back.
Needless to say, when I took my self imposed break, it was time.
After my wild ride in the park I had come to realize quite a few things. Sonita wasn't that hard to ride. She was the most agile, sure-footed horse I had ever been on. She would guide on a feather touch from my hand or leg, as long as I didn't try to drive her forward, or hold her back.
There was a huge hole in what she thought I was telling her compared to what I thought I was saying.
So in the peace and quiet of our arena at home I tried to sort things out again. At a walk.
I started on the rail on a loose rein. I made sure my weight was square in my saddle. As soon as Sonita was relaxed I rolled my calf muscles lightly into her, and began to bump her with every stride. She lengthened her steps and I captured her face with the bit.
Immediately her back hollowed, her head flew up and she began to jig.
I stayed quiet, kept holding, bumping with my legs and held her firmly enough to stop her from flying across the arena.
She jumped and fretted and kicked at my legs. We went around the arena once, twice. Sonita shook her head and struck out with her front legs. I kept holding and bumping. We went around again. Finally she dropped her head.
I resisted my impulse to immediately release her. After all that nonsense a head bob wasn't going to cut it. I held and bumped until she was soft and driving deep with her hind legs. I made her hold it for one, two, three strides. Then I released my legs, followed by my hands.
I kept it up for a couple of hours. We walked, I put my legs on her, asked her to go to my hands, we fought, she complied. I kept my temper. I made myself focus on the feel of her strides. I made myself think about the feel of her back rising, the lengthening of her strides, the straightness in my hands when she got it. I breathed.
By the end of our session she was driving forward into my hands with the softest of cues. Pure joy flooded through me as I felt her go to the bit with confidence and trust. I started to feel like I just might get this trainer gig down.
We worked at the walk for a week.
I put her in the trot for another week. When she was confident on the rail I added serpentines. I asked her to drive deep through her turns. She realized that she could drive her hind leg almost to the print of her inside front through those turns and it would keep her balanced and sure. It made her even more willing to come into my hands.
I began to make circles at the trot and spiral down. My goal was to make each new circle exactly two feet farther inside the one before. I would shift Sonita to the next circle by driving her outside hind all the way to the next line. She got so she could spiral down from a 50 foot circle to a beautiful spin and never break her cadence. Then we would spiral out and go the other way.
I came home one night to a message on the answering machine from the Big K.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
I emailed him back. "I'm still thinking."
I would fall asleep at night to the rhythm of a trotting horse running through my mind. I would wake up with the words, "Drive, drive, drive" tattooing a beat in my head. I started all my horses on a variation of the same program, according to their age and abilities. Yes. I'm a nutcase.
Sonita and I started loping. At first she panicked and fought me. Now I understood what I was looking for. I knew the feel I was seeking. I was patient. She calmed within minutes, and began to come to me. Collect, relax, collect, relax. We drove through corners. I made squares, rectangles, triangles anything I could think of. At each corner she would come to me, slow down, and gather herself. On the straight lines I would relax my rein.
Finally, I began loping straight lines, and randomly asking her to drive to my hand. She came to me, soft and confident. It was heaven.
Then we tackled the run downs. I was a little sick to my stomach the night before just thinking about it. I started by asking for a straight line up the middle. As she would gather to fly I sat back, bumped with my calves and picked up my hand. As clearly as possible I asked her to collect. Sonita threw it all away and took off. I could feel her panic and anger rising. I kept my cues the same, I didn't pull.
I wasn't afraid anymore. I breathed.
When we came to the end of the arena I didn't ask for a stop. I drove her into a tight u-turn. She brought her legs under her, rebalanced and we headed the other way.
The turn had slowed her, so I relaxed and released my legs and hand. We went up and down the arena probably ten times before she could run through a straight line steady and collected. I finally said "Whoa," and she slid.
We spun. We settled. I walked Sonita in a straight line and bumped with my legs. When she came to me I asked for a lope. When she panicked we just kept going until she felt better, then we stopped, spun, settled and tried again.
In three days she had it. Sonita understood what I was saying. She sought collection as a steadying comfort instead of an unfair restraint. I still let her ride on a loose rein most of the time. But anytime I wanted her to come to me she would, and she would stay there until I released her.
She had it. I had it. Now it was time to go do something about it.
I emailed the Big K. "See you on Tues."