Sonita/World Show-Here we go.

I let Sonita extend trot around the arena on a loose rein. I was so jazzed up she was incapable of standing still and I knew better than to school on any of our maneuvers.

I kept out of the way of the other riders and let myself be drawn into their warm-ups. Huge sliding stops, lightening fast spins and lead changes without a lift of the head or swing of the tail surrounded me. The other open riders had calm, almost serene looks on their faces as they rode past. The knot in my stomach turned into a fist. I was going to be massacred. Slaughtered. Sauteed and served up medium rare.

I saw the Big K waving at me from the rail. Relieved, I trotted over to him.

"What's in your head? You looked a little spooked," he said.

I recognised the gentle tone. He used it most on newbie riders and scared colts. It pissed me off.

"I'm wondering why I ever thought this was a good idea," I snapped.

"Is that why you're not loping your circles?"

"I'm riding all over the place, I keep getting in everybody's way."

"Who cares? You know better than to let them run over you. Look em' in the eye and mow 'em down. You're going to be fine."

I tried to take a deep breath but it came out more of a snivelley sigh.

"I am in way over my head," I said.

"Don't let yourself get hung on how these horses look in their warm-up, half of them will come undone in the show pen and you know it," K said, " this is just another day, you're ready and so is your horse."

He was right. I knew it. But I was falling apart.

Sonita started to paw at the fence, as usual she made a half-hearted attempt to thump the toe of K's boot resting on the rail. He stomped on the rail to let her know he was watching her, she pinned her ears and ground her teeth.

"I'd better get moving before I have to thump on her," I said.

Sonita's everyday orneriness gave me some comfort, at least she was calm enough to be a bitch.

I put my leg on Sonita and she roll-backed off the rail and melted into the river of loping horses. I picked my head up, looked straight ahead and settled into my seat. When I was crowded by another rider I looked them in the eye and held my course.

My name was called, I was in the hole. Sonita had found her rhythm and was loping strong and steady. She transitioned up and down without a fuss. I went down to the end of the arena and loped through a few run-downs, showing her the lead we'd start on and the direction of our first set of spins. We stopped a few times and relaxed at the end. We were as ready as we could be.

I went to the gate and stood off to the side. Normally I would watch my competitors, but my hand wasn't steady on the reins and my stomach was flipping. I didn't think I could bear it. Sonita's breathing was solid, a light sweat covered her neck and flanks, she was warm, but not hot.

She stood with her head up, watching the horse and rider in the arena work their cow. The cattle were big and soft. Hopefully they weren't too soft, Sonita looked her best when she got to slam things around.

She shifted back and forth, restless and wanting in the arena.

My name was called. So was Sonita's.

The gate was opened, I nodded at the gate man's "Good luck."

I squashed my hat down and pushed my glasses up.

I walked Sonita forward a few steps, just enough to let the judges see my departure and we loped off.

Sonita began to build her speed into the first run-down, she wanted to fly, but I knew our best chance at a decent stop was to keep her checked.

Her first stop was rough, she threw her head when I said , "Whoa" and I felt her off hind leg skip in the dirt.

It made her crooked when she stopped and she snapped her tail when I laid my leg on her to straighten her out as we backed.

I made myself sit and breathe for an extra count of ten before we did our quarter turn to the judges and walked out to begin our circles.

Sonita did her first set just fine, at least her feet were on the right path, but her head was up, and she was ogling the stands. I gave her a squeeze with my legs and she raised her head higher, refusing to go into the bridle.

"Dammit Sonita, not today, " I growled.

She flicked an ear at me but our first lead change was coming up and she was still strung out.

I cued her change and realised I had risen about an inch out of my seat, an old habit I fell back on when I was tense. I paid for it with a dragged lead in the back for our first stride.

I could hear the points ticking in my mind as they fell away with each new blunder.

I settled down and so did my mare for the rest of the pattern. Our second change was clean, our spins were fast and solid and her last two stops were straight.

We stood and breathed for a few seconds before calling for our cow. Sonita stared at the gate, I could feel the familiar quiver of her back through my saddle as her anticipation grew. The roller in her bit clattered as she worked it and white foam sprayed to the ground with every roll.

I pushed my feet deep into my stirrups, squashed down my hat and pushed back my glasses.

The gate opened and we trotted forward to meet our cow. The heifer was slow and a little sullen in the box work, but I got her moving with me and driving across the pen. As we set up to go through our corner I saw the cows tail kink a little. She had spotted the opening I was offering down long side of the arena.

I wondered if she was going to stay logey or if she was going to blast down the fence. She took off with her tail in the air.

It looked like we were going to have a long sweet run down the fence. I settled back and kept watching my cow.

Before we got to the middle cone the little stinker ducked and whipped back towards the gate. Sonita turned with her and leaped forward to head her off. She turned so hard and fast I almost lost my seat. I felt my stirrup go and I started to slide down her side.

All that went through my head was, "Here we go!"

Visions of me laying in the dirt at my first World Show flashed before my eyes as I grabbed for the horn and hoisted myself back into the saddle.

Sonita hesitated just long enough for me to find my stirrup and we lined out and headed back down the fence. But I had lost control of my cow.

My mind was still back on my near disaster when I felt Sonita step to the cow to make our second turn.

Frustrated and angry because we were behind she began her turn a stride too soon. The heifer ducked under her neck and shot through the corner.

I sat back, took a breath and faded off the cow to slow her down.

We were out of the running for sure now. The loss of working advantage and the points taken for running through the corner sealed the deal.

Sonita and I finished our run but never really pulled ourselves together. It was an eternity before I heard the judges whistle. I pulled Sonita up and we walked out of the arena.

I had told myself over and over again it didn't matter, I just wanted to have fun. But it did. I felt like I had let the Big K down, myself down and especially Sonita. She was so much better than what we had done out there in the arena.

I hopped down to loosen her cinch and take off her skid boots before I remounted to cool her down.
I worked hard to clear any sign of disappointment off my face. Once Sonita's breathing had eased I went to watch the rest of the runs.

The Big K came up behind us and rested his arm across the back of my saddle. He handed me a beer. Sonita made a nasty face at him and stomped a hind foot. She turned back around to watch a cow run when she realised he wasn't going to leave.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked me.

"I'm not ready to talk about it yet," I said.

"You gave us all something fun to watch," he said.

"Shut up," was all I could come up with, but I had to hide my smile.

It was pretty funny, I had almost biffed it at the NRCHA World show.

"Tomorrows another day," K said.

"I guess."

"I mean it, have you been paying attention to your class?"

"Not much."

"Well you're sitting 10th."

"No way."

"Yup."

"My run was a disaster, how can that be right?"

"There were some bigger disasters, that's all.

Suddenly I was a lot more interested in the last go.

We sat and watched in silence. It's considered bad form to wish a losing run on a fellow competitor. But once in a while it's OK to root for the cow.

That was a great cow.

I still held the 10th place slot after the last go.

"How about that?" The Big K grinned at me.

"Looks like you and Sonita made the finals."

Mouthy Mondays

Hey guys,

I just had an email from a regular. She sent me a story weeks ago and I seem to have lost it. If you think I forgot you or lost one of your stories, well first, I apologise and second, please resend your horse tales, I love these things and would hate to miss one because I'm a rotten "keeper of the tales."

This comes from Sandhills and Mustangs...
http://sandhillermustangs.blogspot.com

Humbling Moments


Woke up early this morning thinking about the people who influenced my life.

I don't particularly know why I woke up that way, but I did.

You see ever since I can remember horses have been a part of my life. I was riding a close family friend’s horse at three years of age, and started lessons a short time after that.

I remember all the people who influenced me, it started with Don, then Cliff, Shannon, Cece, Kathy, my mom, my grandfather, Amy, and of course Brenda.

But who started this whole Mustang thing, who was the one that made me fall in love with the mustangs. I’d have to say Cece was the one who introduced me to mustangs and my grandfather was the one to blame for giving me mustangs.

It’s been eight years since Legend came into my life; he was a scraggly little mustang with knobby knees and a head to big for his body. But he grew, and today he is a state champion, my leading man, the horse I couldn’t live without.

I remember the first time I rode him, the rush of adrenaline and how happy I was to finally have a horse of my own. Over the years he’d teach me a thing or two, and because of him today I have a good head on my shoulders, and I know a thing or two about breaking horses.

From the moment Legend came to the ranch there has been strong criticism of him. I was once told that he’d never make anything. I would always smile at the commentator and listen, knowing that one day I’d prove them wrong, we’d prove them wrong.

You see this is Quarter Horse Country; Mustangs aren’t as easily accepted here. It took me a long time to get accepted; in fact some days I can still feel the tension when I walk into the feed store.

I stood on the hill this evening with my hand in Legend’s mane, the other horses grazing peacefully around me, Legend watched with me the as the blue turned to pink, pink to orange, and orange to black and remembered where I had come from as he snorted and put his head down to graze.

My heart strings tugged as I remembered the ones who started my horse career, and I believe that without these humbling moments we rise to high on our pedestals and forget where we have come from, forget who we are, and forget that often times our ego can get in the way.

I wish for every horse owner in this town, in this state, in the country, to realize that in fact a horse is a horse, papered or not, it doesn’t matter who his daddy was, he’ll be what he’ll be, you can’t force the issue.

I kissed Legend goodnight, walked home and ate, the whole time remembering Don's horse, he was an Arabian, no a Quarter horse, sorrel with a big blaze, sweet as pie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I Just Gotta Say....

I found my comment going on and on and on.....

So now it's a post. This treat thing is enough to make me nuts. Here's really and truly my last post on treats.

I don't care if you use treats (food). It's simply that I don't. I have tried to tell you why, but all this does is bring up waves of defense from those who train with food.

I don't use food to train my horses, but to my mind they still get treats. Since when is a release, a rest or a stroke on the neck not a treat? So I guess it comes down to what I want my horse to work for.

Do I need to phrase it differently? If I use the word treat in place of rest, release, pat on the neck, will it make you guys feel better?

I don't mind if you disagree with me, but please understand I'm not going to sit back and agree with you either. There will be arguing, but not meaness, at least on my part.

Just for general info, I don't train dogs or kids with food either.

I was on a walk with my Mother and my dogs one day. Another hiker was coming towards us on the trail with a large, lunging Lab on a leash. We got off the trail and I told my dogs to sit and stay. Since my dogs were off leash and I have an opinionated Rat Terrier I was holding up one finger and keeping an eye on them. My dogs were being pretty good, but I had to keep wiggling my finger to keep the Rat's attention. The women passed us and by this time she had hoisted the Lab up and was dragging him by his collar with only his hind feet on the ground and she said, "My dog would do that for a pocket full of treats too."

I'm not 100 percent sure what she meant. Was she sneering at my dogs because they were behaving? Did she wish she had brought treats? I'll never know. I would have given her some had there been any in my pocket, but there wasn't. I gave my dogs their normal treat, a rousing "Good dogs!!!!" and a pet. Exactly how I praise my kid or my horses. Well, kinda. I guess I don't call my kid or horses, "dog"....

mlk - her example in the comments is the reason I don't want my horse to feel she can be in my space. Ever. Which includes taking food from my hand. Any horse, any time, can freak. They are huge. They can kill us. I want to think my horse has a solid muscle memory built in to stay off me at all costs. Then if or when she mentally checks out I can rely on the physical muscle response to be away from me. I am willing to wager mlk and the vet didn't get hurt because the horse was hard-wired to stay off people.

I know it works. From years of experience. I have never been smashed by one of my horses or a horses I've had for at least 30 days. I have had them panic. They have jumped, reared, bolted for different reasons. The only horses I've had knock me down, over, into fences etc. were problem horses who came in for training. All of these problems came from how they were handled.

The worst injuries I've ever sustained came from horses who's owners loved them so much they played "games" instead of taught them manners, and showered them with carrots or horse candy so they knew their horses loved them best. When discipline problems arose and the games and cookies quit working I got called in. As a matter of fact it was one of those horses who ended my training career.

I've never been hurt by an unhandled horse either, be it a mustang or a two-year-old off the range. My injuries came from horses who were handled.This is what got me going on teaching horses to honor my space at all times. Because I really started thinking about how important it is to factor in what we don't do as much as what we do when it comes to training our horses.

Positive and Negative space. How my body language tunes to my horses. How I manipulate the air between us to create the behavior I want. I want my training to become increasingly nuanced. I want to get to a response from a shift, a sigh, a turn of my hand. I can't get any of this if I have to break the moment, intrude on the space, disrupt my connection so I can dig out an apple-flavored horse cookie and goober up my bit.

I have seen great riders treat their horses with food. So I won't say it's bad. I will say, over and over it's not my approach. I guess I'm not a good enough trainer to overcome the result of hand feeding my horses.

Now I'm done with hand-feeding.

Let me give you my Pete up-date. My little bay gelding, Pete, is doing well. He has come from being unable to follow a trail without falling off the side to a reliable, steady companion in the mountains. Except last weekend when he decided to reenact a mustang stampede and threw an extremely good bucking fit as we loped up a hill. I stayed on, he had to lope up the hill a few more times and all was good.

Which is a damn good thing. Because on Wed. evening I took him out for a short trail ride on the mountain he lives on. We had a nice start, he is getting good on his feet and beginning to enjoy going exploring.

We rode up and down a narrow, winding trail and ended up on the forest service road which takes us back to the barn.

We were headed home when Pete topped short, crouched like a cutter on a heifer and spun around. Those of you who read me regularly know I keep my reins loose through a spook and wait to see what my horses feet do.

Normally, if Pete spooks hard enough to spin around the other way he will take a step or two, then turn around and look at what scared him.

This time we were at least 25 yards up the service road before I got my reins gathered and stopped him. I had forgotten just how much power is in those Smart Smoke butts.

Pete stopped. We turned and stared down the road. It wasn't dark yet, but the shadows had lengthened and deepened and color in the trees was starting to fade.

Pete is not a spooky horse.

He was frozen into the ground, his head flung up and his eyes bugging out of his head. I was pretty much doing the same thing.

We sat there for a few minutes, straining to see what was down there.

I couldn't see or hear a thing. Of course the thing in the road was between us and the barn.

Then I heard a rustling in the scrub oak in the gully to our left.

Pete didn't even flick an ear at the rustling. He kept staring down the road.

The rustling got more pronounced. I kept glancing to the left, then staring down the road.

Then the rustling became quite a bit louder and two deer popped out of the brush. Normally if I surprise deer in the mountains they at least trot off. These two walked past us. They came within 10 feet of us as they headed to their trail on the other side of the road. Their ears and eyes were pointed exactly where Pete's were. Down the road.

They didn't even glance at us. Pete didn't look at them either.

I didn't need anymore convincing.

I turned Pete around and we headed back up the road to a trail that would take us up the side of the mountain and above the road.

He walked out and kept flicking an ear behind us, but he stayed calm and on a loose rein.

We got on the trail and headed back to the barn again. Pete was quiet and level, so I began to relax. It was getting darker and the trail was getting harder to see. I kept my reins loose and shook out my legs so I could relax into my seat.
I knew Pete could see the trail just fine, so I turned the controls completely over to him.

Pete stopped again. This time he stared down the mountainside. I felt my stomach clench. I wasn't sure we could even get turned around on the trail. There was mountain going up on my left and mountain going down to my right. I followed the direction of Pete's ears and peered into the darkness. I still couldn't see or hear a thing.

Pete snorted a hard warning blast through his nose. Then he did it again.

When I was a little girl and got into a tight spot, I used to say the "Our Father" over and over again. I found my self whispering "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," in the same sing song rhythm of my childhood prayers. There might be something profound there, but I was too scared to think about it.

Pete decided to keep going on the trail. I just became a passenger at this point. There wasn't a single element under my control anymore. I had to trust in Pete's better sense of sight and smell and for the first time with this horse, count on the partnership I hoped we had developed.

I swear he tip-toed down that trail. He placed his feet so carefully his shod hooves didn't make a sound. There was no clink on the rocks, no crunch of gravel, nothing.

All I could hear was our breathing and the pounding of my heart. I could feel Pete's heart thudding against the calves of my legs.

We both jumped when the branch of a bush slapped against Pete's flanks as it sprung back from our passing.

About a quarter mile from home Pete sighed, dropped his head and began to speed walk along. Whatever had been out there was past us.

I swallowed a few times, my dry throat telling me I had turned into quite the mouth breather up on the trail. At least I didn't wet my pants.

We made it back to the barn without incident. One of the boarders told me the Forest Service guys had stopped by to say the bear were all over the scrub oak and they had seen a mountain lion earlier in the week.

I don't know which one it was on the road, but I do know Pete and I have gone up a step in our progress. I know when it counts, I can trust him as much as he can me.

I gave him an extra flake of hay and threw a couple pieces of the BO's horse candy in his tub.

So I guess I do give my horses treats.