Taking My Time

I may have retired from training, at least within the parameters of the IRS, but I have found I just can't stop.

I guess it's in my bones, this unending hunger to insinuate my thoughts and will into the mind of my horses and to create a desire on their part to do the work I ask of them.

When I first moved my horses to our "retirement home," I had visions of long trail rides, lazy days reading a book creek side while my horses grazed, and going back to the days of my youth, when just hanging out with my horse was enough.

I don't know who I thought I was kidding. When I chose my barn it wasn't coincidence it was run by a family of professional trainers and competitors. My mouth actually watered the first time I kneeled to check the dirt in the beautifully maintained outdoor arena. The ground was deep enough to work cattle in and smooth enough to create a good slide. The owner immediately offered up his cattle for practice, at a price I could actually afford. This was the kind of facility I could get along at.

I continue to work and train the two horses I have left, and now that I've quit trying to force myself into a life of leisure I'm having a great time.

There is a huge difference in my life now, compared to the unending work, hurry and worry of my days as a trainer. I do have days when I sit creek side and simply enjoy watching them graze. It has to be after we've all had a good work out though, or I'm too edgy to relax.

I also go on long trail rides, not as many as I'd like, but enough to see an improvement in the steadiness of my very flighty mare. The colt is a natural trail horse. He's inquisitive and calm, and has a lovely, move it out kind of walk and trot. I still approach the darn things like a training course though. Hills become exercises in collection, we work on giving hips and shoulders as we wind through the trees, and I work on lead changes as we lope through the nature preserve.

I just can't help myself!

What is different is the lack of pressure. I can think and I can allow my horses to think. I can wait for them to sort out the knots I put in front of them and to find the right answer. It's absolutely luxurious.

My mare is eight-years-old and still riding in her hackamore. She is more than ready to step up into the two-rein, but I'm not in a hurry. I've learned so much about using a hackamore and the feel of a horse truly "broke in the face" that it's hard for me to regret being what would be considered way behind on my mare, if I was training for the show pen we wouldn't be able to compete at all. She's too old for the hackamore and because I showed her once in the two-rein she can't go there again.

I don't miss showing, at least part of it. I hated the pressure, the scramble to get and keep clients, the toll it took on my horses. I do miss the show pen, the butterflies in my stomach until I hear the gate close behind me, and then the intense focus and calm I can feel seep through me and into my horse. I miss the feeling of letting my fellow competitors see my horse, the horse I trained for this complex and difficult event.

I also miss the competition. There is a saying in reined cowhorse. You don't compete against each other, you compete with each other. For the most part, I found this to be true. The competition is between you, your horse, the cow and the judge.I was coached, assisted, joked with and teased by my fellow competitors. Once I stuck it out long enough to show I was serious the other trainers became friendly and supportive. The friendliness stayed once I crawled my way into placing once in a while and became more than cannon fodder.

What I miss most of all is watching a good, finished bridle horse in his work. Being able to see the horses ridden and/or trained by the best in my field and taking notes, what do I like, what don't I like, where are my holes, how are my horses stacking up?

All this being said my time off has opened some incredible doors. I can spend days thinking of ways to work Madonna's sticky right rib.

The hackamore becomes less mysterious and more of an amazing tool as time goes on. The holes in my riding have become much clearer now that I have time to analyze and I'm picking away at myself on problems I would have called insurmountable not too many years ago.

My mare is becoming more correct, more athletic, and best of all, calm and happy in her work. Our lines are straight and our lead changes clean. She doesn't become fired up or anxious when we go to cattle, she becomes thoughtful and calm.

I'm beginning to think the biggest problem with professional training is time. It takes years to develop a good horse and rider. 5, or 10 or 20 or 50. It can't be done in days. Not 60, not 90, not 120. What's the answer? I'm not sure.

I just know I'm grateful my life has forced me to take stock, take time and slow the heck down.