The Bearable Lightness of Being II

So how do we blend the lightness we felt with our horses as children and the lightness we want in our training?

I think you guys hit it on the head in the comments when you talked about the companionship we felt with our horses as kids compared to the training goals we look for as adults.

Are the two really so different?

There was a key moment during my time with The Big K that started me on this line of thought, I've wrestled with it ever since.

For reasons I don't need to delve into here, I have some trouble getting on a horse. There is a split second when I'm getting mounted where I'm totally at the mercy of my horse. When you're working with unstarted colts and problem horses it's a little disconcerting to ever be at their mercy. Horses on the whole are a fairly narcissistic bunch. A snorty, broncy, spoiled brat or a half-wild pasture baby rarely feel the need to give their trainer a break.

Yet for some reason, every horse I have ever worked with (as an adult) waits until I'm safely in the saddle, with both feet solidly in the stirrups, before they give me grief. I mean all of them, from the mean paint sucker with a history of dumping every rider, every time, to the boltiest, spookiest youngster, they stand rock solid until I'm in the saddle. Then they feel perfectly at ease dishing out whatever comes to mind.Weird huh?

"I don't get why they do that," I told K one afternoon.

I had just had a pretty skittery, bolty first ride on a 2-year-old and was letting both of us air up before I got down. K was used to my nervous babbling after I rode a tough one and he slid his weight into his off-side stirrup and settled in to chat.

"This colt stood soft as could be until I had both feet in the stirrups before he blew."

"It was your lucky day."

"But they always do it."

"Do what?"

"Wait for me."

"I guess they do."

"How come?"

"How come what?"

I absolutely hated it when K baited me, especially when I was still sweaty palmed and wild eyed from the previous fifteen minutes aboard the colt.

"C'mon, K," I said, "I'm serious here."

"Ooh, are we using the 'mother's' voice?"

"God K," I swung down off my colt, just mad enough to make the poor thing skitter. I waited until he settled and loosened his cinch.

"All right, all right, don't get all wound up. I wasn't trying to tease, I meant it, why do you think they wait for you?"

"I don't know, I can't figure it out."

"It's because you need them to."

"What?"

"Somehow, you get across to the horses you work that you need them to be still. It's a clear, concise thought, the horse reads it and you get it from them."

"Then I muddy it up with all my junk and the rodeo starts."

"Perfect!"

"So how do I get the horse to work like that all the way through?"

"If we could figure that one out we could go on the road. All I know is that sometimes the horse completely gets us and when they do, they try to get along."

That conversation had me so lost in thought I walked into a hitching rail on my way to trade horses.

Over the years I have chewed on this ad nauseum. Pure expectation has given me moments with my horses, but my mind always starts jumping around and I lose it.

As a kid I expected my horse to let me ride him. I expected him to go where I pointed him. I expected him to nicker when he saw me and hug me when I needed it. He did all those things.

In return, he expected me to feed him. He expected me to know where he liked to be scratched.He expected me to listen and watch with him when he sensed a bad spot on the trail. he expected me to hang on tight and let him run when he really, really needed to. I did all those things.

Is it that simple? Does lightness come from mutual expectation, and crystal clear thought?

Following this idea has led me to ride with kind of a dual awareness. I need to know what I want, exactly how to get it and exactly how to explain it to my horse. My horse has the freedom to say, "What?" without me getting angry or unsure of myself. I need to be aware of her feet, of her breathing, of any tension or temper. She has to be able to think things through, give it a shot and immediately get a release and reward for trying.

We have to trust each other. So how do I get my horse to trust my training methods?

I've gotta stop here, my head is going to explode.

More later. Input much appreciated.