The Show is Over as Soon as the Gate is Closed/Sonita

I took Sonita behind the show barns and let her graze.

The grass was frosted over and the misty air was heavy enough to puddle in the hollows of her horse blanket. Water trickled down her sides and rivulets ran down her legs. Sonita shook and stomped as if she was covered with flies but never lifted her head from the grass.

This was it. We had one more go.

I stepped back and admired my big powerful mare.

Tall, solid and quick, both mentally and physically, she had given me everything I had asked for and earned her place in the world.

Sonita had made me a trainer.

I tipped my head back until the brim of my hat hit my back. The cold mist swirled around my face and I looked up into the sky.

We had barely squeaked into the finals. We stood in 10th place. We trailed the 9th place horse by 10 1/2 points. We trailed the leaders by 20 points and more. Since the results would come from our combined scores we had virtually no chance of changing our placing.

My horse was sold and my show finished the second we entered the ring.

I felt light and a little loopy. It occurred to me a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders. I had grown so accustomed to packing it around I didn't know I carried it until the burden went missing.

I reached out and scratched Sonita's withers. Icy water ran down my neck.

"Today is about fun," I told her.

"No scolding, no schooling, you can dink as much as you want. You've earned it."

"Good luck Mommy!"

My daughter came trotting out of the mist on her mare. Loki was still in her blanket and my daughter rode with just a halter and lead. Her voice jiggled as she kept a precarious balance.

I noticed she had slipped into my name from her childhood. It was my only clue she was starting to feel the stress of the show.

"Don't get yourself killed," I said, "I'll see you at the gate."

I headed back to the barn. It was time to saddle up.

We rode into the warm up pen. Sonita was calm and alert. I took a few deep breaths and felt myself relax.

The Big K sat on the rail. I paused for a second as we passed.

How are you doing?" He asked.

"You know, it's funny, but I feel just fine," I answered.

"Good, remember to think ahead and have some fun."

"OK."

I leaned over and stroked Sonita's neck as we headed out into the warm-up. She shook her head in impatience. This was a show and Sonita was never in the mood for mushy stuff when she had work to do.

I put her into a lope and settled in. The feeling of lightness was still there and I tuned into the steady one-two-three of her lope as she went to work. She rolled her bit and dolphin bucked a time or two, flicking her ears back to see if I was paying attention.

"C'mon now, step up," I muttered and Sonita dropped her head and moved out.

I focused on the ground in front of us, turning off my brain and melting into my horse. We had done this so many times, in so many different arenas, so many different states. There was no need to think, no need to worry. Not today.

The shimmery silver path opened in front of us. The path I could find only when we were totally alone and practicing in a field. I relaxed even deeper into my saddle and we loped our circles, following the silver path.

The only sound was the steady chuffing of Sonita's breath as she found her rhythm.

"Janet!"

I snapped my head around and looked to the gate.

"You're in the hole!" The gateman checked my number.

I stood and watched the last horse and rider before me finish a respectable run.

The gate swung open and we trotted into the center. Sonita's head was high, but her trot was steady.

We settled in the middle. I rocked back and forth in my stirrups, sneaking a belated check on my cinch. I adjusted my hat and pushed my glasses up my nose.

Sonita stood like a rock, eye balling the judges.

I lifted my head, looked the judges straight in the eye and smiled.

This was going to be a good day.

"Let's go Sonita, this is it."

As we loped off into our first circle I knew we were golden. Sonita was steady, her shoulders were up and there was no wobble.

My silver path opened in front of us.

I wish I could remember the rest of the pattern but I don't. I felt the rhythm of our ride and the sweetness of knowing my horse as well as she knew me. The only sound I heard was Sonita's steady breathing. She stayed so solid in her bridle, my hand, the romel and her grip on the bit were one in the same.

I simply followed the trail laid out in front of us, step by step. It faded away as we came into our last stop. The hollers of congratulations from my friends told me we had a clean run.


I pushed my feet in my stirrups, smashed down my hat and pushed up my glasses. I felt the quiver of Sonita's back muscles through my saddle and up my spine as she geared up for our cow. I waved at the gate man.



She stood frozen, the clatter of her bit telling me, "Hurry, hurry, let's get that cow!"

The dun and white cow blew out and trotted back and forth, looking beyond us at the exit gate on the other end of the arena.

I trotted Sonita toward it's right ear, trying to make the heifer see us, acknowledge us.


With a flash of her white face the cow jumped left and ran, still not willing to see us.


Sonita jumped too, a perfect mirror and pointed her nose at her hip, sending her across the arena.

I checked Sonita lightly, trying to keep her inner Doberman at bay. We didn't want to get this cow running, not yet.

The cow gave us a little trouble as we drove and stopped her back and forth across the short side of the arena. Sonita settled into her work. I let her box a little longer than the judges probably wanted, but hey, this was our day, not theirs.

We finally got the heifer to turn and look at us.

"Get her down the fence!" I heard the Big K shout.

"Fine! Don't push me!" I thought.

Sonita felt the shift in my focus and her head came up, worried.

The cow, free from our concentration, made a break for it.

I put my cow side leg on Sonita and she faded out. We caught our cow and drove her back, almost to the corner. Sonita rocked back and turned the heifer, I pointed my mare at her hip and we started our drive to the fence. As we passed the middle of the arena I pushed Sonita's hip towards the heifer, creating an opening through the corner.

Sonita dug deep as we went through the corner and we stayed with our cow even as she flipped her tail in the air and took off down the long side of the fence.

I sat back and kept my eye on the cows nose. I held Sonita back and she ran stride for stride until we passed the middle cone.

Sonita felt the release of my hand and flew.





The first penalty cone came roaring up at us, but Sonita stepped past our cow and blocked it in one smooth motion.


I felt the cows head hit my thigh and I gave her a quick glance. I couldn't help but feel a tug of satisfaction. The slobber going down my chaps was a point of pride and guaranteed bragging rights.


We came through the turn still with our cow and flew down the fence for another long run, our second turn was as smooth as the first.


By the time we set up for our third turn I sat up a little, wanting to save our cow for the circles.


Sonita shook her head at me, wanting to jump on this malcontent.


We pushed between the cow and the fence forcing her out to the middle of the arena. Sonita was still arguing and we came out a stride behind. I gave her her head, she pinned her ears and flew, catching us up within two strides.



We circled left, changed sides and circled right. Everything was clean and easy, the way it always goes when the pieces fit together.

The judges whistle blew and I dropped my reins and sat up. Sonita circled her cow one more time, not ready to give her up.


I heard my friends yelling, the Big K's "That's the way to do it!" coming through clear and proud.

Sonita strutted towards the gate, as only a winning show horse can, her ears pricked and her tail swinging.

I had no idea how we would come out, I realised I didn't care. The show was over and we had done just fine.

This is a very interesting blog. This young woman is using her head and the help available to her in a way I wish we all did. Is she using techniques I would use? Not always, but that's what makes this interesting, watching her explore things that help her succeed with the horse she has.




http://www.lifewithacrazyhorse.blogspot.com/

I first saw Fox on-line as I was browsing through horses for sale on Trademe as I did on a regular basis. I was smitten. Fox looked like my dream horse. A 12 year old 17hh chestnut Hanoverian x Thoroughbred. And even better, he had a big blaze and four white socks. I wasn't in a position to buy a horse at that stage so I looked wistfully at his photos and moved on. I couldn't stop looking though. Every week I would check to see if he was still for sale. Then one day he was gone. I was gutted.

I kept browsing and waiting till the right time came for me to buy a horse. I never saw one that grabbed my attention like Fox did though. Then one day, nearly a year after I first saw him, he was back on there. I had a deep sense of conviction that he was supposed to be mine.

A month later everything fell into place and I was able to start thinking about buying a horse. The first thing I did was e-mail his owner with a long list of questions. He had mostly been used as a farm hack and had was only just back in work after nearly a year off but the only bad thing she had to say was that he could pull a bit especially when he was going fast. No problem I thought, I can handle that. So we organised a time for me to ride.

The day came and the weather was wild and windy but we couldn't postpone as he lived quite a ways away in Golden Bay. When I saw him in real life, he was better than his photos. He had a real presence. I wanted him.

I knew it was the wrong thing to think, I should be shopping around, trying lots of horses out. But I didn't want any other horse, I wanted this one.

He was a little head shy about being bridled but nothing major. His owner said he had always been like that, just didn't like the bridle being put on. No worries I thought again, I can handle that.

The ride was fantastic. We rode for two hours on Pakawau Beach. We trotted and cantered and galloped and jumped logs. Fox was awesome. His paces felt great, powerful and flowing. His jump was bold and strong. If I hadn't already been hooked, I would have been after that ride.

We organised a two week trial and after some trouble finding a truck to bring him over the hill, he arrived at the place he would be living. I was so excited and couldn't wait to ride him again.
When the dressage instructor first saw him, I was opening a gate on him. She gave me a look and said 'I hope that's not someones fancy dressage horse you're trying to open a gate on.' I laughed and said 'no he's just been a farm hack for the last 5 years'. But inside I was glowing. My horse looked like the real deal!

The two weeks flew by, the decision was already made. Fox would be mine and I would be the proud owner of my very first horse!!
We had about three weeks of bliss hacking round the farm and doing some basic arena work then the first signs of trouble started appearing...

Princess and the Pea

Half Dozen Farms brought up an extremely good point that comes up often around this blog.

It's the issue of sensitivity.

She has an OTTB who is very sensitive. This mare also likes to buck and refuse to give on one side.


This is a very common problem.

Sonita would strike and fret if she got sand in her sport boots.

She would shudder, sweat, roll and generally freak if her blanket was itchy anywhere.

My yellow mare hates sweat.

When she is worked hard enough to have sweat trickling down her face or flanks she flips out, shaking her head, trying to rub her face on her legs, kicking at the sweat on her sides.

She also doesn't like to get her feet dirty or wet.

I was practicing my cutting one day before I quit training. Our cattle were having digestive issues. Cattle always have digestive issues, but this day was particularly gross.

As we were cutting my mare kept blowing up and jumping out of position. This is a horse who normally does a really good job keeping her eye on the cow.

So I pulled up, checked her feet, her legs, under the saddle. Nothing.

I asked my boss to watch her.

I rode back into the herd, kicked out a cow and we went to.

She jumped again and my boss burst out laughing.

Turns out my mare didn't want to step in the digestive issues that were pouring out of our cattle.

I don't call this sensitive. I call it a pain in the ass.

ALL HORSES ARE SENSITIVE.

I admit, some are goosier than others. But every horse I've ever known, dull or sharp, will shake a fly off its flanks. That's pretty sensitive.

We want our horses to respond to the lightest touch. Some are quicker to pick up on this than others.

There are countless ways to try to explain over-sensitivity or dullness. It's easy to label a horse as bad, or abused, or crazy when all it comes down to is a sensitive horse that's been mishandled.

The Big K used to tell me to handle the dull ones with the softest touch and to bang and hang and thump and jump all over the sensitive ones.

A sensitive horse needs to survive out in the world. She needs to deal with an unexpected poke with a spur, a saddle thumped on her back or too much pull on the bit.

In defense of the OTTB, they often are very thin skinned. A metal curry is torture, a saddle pad caked with sweat can drive them to distraction. There are plenty of QH's out there with the same issue. So I get it.

BUT. They still have to cope. These sensitive souls don't get to kick at our feet, run through our leg, trample over the top of us, etc. Because that makes them end up in a dog food can.

The way I handle these horses is not particularly different than other horses, except I decide how I'm going to handle them and become extremely precise.

I use my eternal 1, 2, 3 method of teaching. One is the feather light question the sensitive little souls crave. Two is a sharp demand, not hard enough to start a fight, but very clear. Three gets them in trouble. The trouble keeps coming until the horse does what I want.

If I go to step three I will continue with the cue until the horse listens. I'm ready to deal with whatever the horse throws at me. Remember, she was offered step one and two already. She chose to go to three.

If a horse kicks at my spur I will keep spurring until I get what I want. I know if I back off I will be teaching my sensitive horse to fight.

My horse has too clearly understand my spur means move away and until she does I will continue to spur.

If the horse bucks I'll keep at her until we're loping the way I want.

Angry or frightened horses fall back on old behaviors that used to work. I know I have to fix it again but it won't take as long this time.

Now here's where I'm on the side of the sensitive horse. Once I get my point across I try to help them out.

If you don't want to use spurs then get to where you don't have to. Put them on when your trainer tells you to. Give your first cue with the barest whisper from your calves. Then go to stronger leg. Then use the spurs as step three until you win. Then take them off. Only use your spurs when your mare makes it clear she won't listen. Eventually she'll get it.

When you practice on your own do simple work that you know you can succeed at. Practice your cues with a tiny bit of leg, then more, then spur. She will start to respond to the second cue, then the first.

Help your mare learn she doesn't want step three, ever.

Then when it gets down to a fight she'll remember step three.

A horse is only truly light if she understands the consequence of not listening.

Sonita had to work doubly hard in her sandy boots until she listened.

Then I took them off, washed them out, and began to rotate two pairs of boots so she always wore a freshly washed pair. I put a clean pair on right before she showed, I rubbed and brushed her legs before I put her boots on and made sure the boots were wrapped tight enough to keep the sand out.

I would clean Sonita's clock if she rubbed on me or rolled while I led her, but I would try on countless blankets until she was comfortable.

My yellow mare, the princess, the valley girl, the epitome of high maintenance, got ridden through mud, cattle pens, wet sand, anything I could find to gross her out.

When she fusses over sweat she gets worked until sweat is the last thing on her mind.

Then she gets a bath. I will wash her legs off for her every ride, she likes to be clean. I have switched out her pads to find one that didn't create quite as much of a river trickling down her flanks.

I braid her forelock to at least keep the wet hair out of her eyes.

See what I mean? I try to help my horses with their sensitivities, but not until they understand they have to listen, even when they have to cut through cow goo and have it splash in their face.

If I had enough of a problem that I knew I'd back down, I might get professional help. But I would be afraid my horse would get pushed too much. That the fight would be created and the punishment too severe.

Instead I might try to back track to exercises I knew would work, then start to build back up in smaller increments.

Teach her she has to listen in a non-confrontational setting. Then build up to the problem areas and don't be afraid to fix her.

If it is too much then I would get help.