Mouthy Monday

Sillypony shares a great point about show ring perspective. Her outlook has certainly changed over the years, how about the rest of us?

www.overanxioushorseowner.blogspot.com

Perspective

I recently dug out the old box-o-home movies. When I was showing horses as a teenager we didn’t have Youtube. We didn’t even own a video camera. When I would get lucky enough to borrow one and beg my mom to tag along to a lesson or to a horse show, I would get a tape. An actual TAPE. If I wanted to show the video to anyone, I’d have to take it to someone’s house, or if it was one of those “convenient” mini-tapes, I’d have to take the whole video camera and a bag of obnoxious cables.

Of the eight or nine shows I did as a teenager I have only a few bits and pieces of footage. Don’t get me started about the one that was accidentally recorded over with hours of CNN and how I sat fast forwarding through the news, tears streaming down my face hoping in vain there was at least some of it left… Those recordings were precious, and they still are. But nearly 20 years later, watching those videos, I now understand why we didn’t win every class, but I sure didn’t at the time. I have the gift of perspective.

I lived in a small town and only did one or two shows a year; a small, saddle club open-show and the County Fair 4-H show. Most of the 4-H kids just learned from their parents or at the three or four open arena nights that the volunteers would host, having to explain that a curb bit needed a curb STRAP in order to actually work. There were a few of the better riders who would trailer their horses an hour or so away for a lesson or two. So the fact that I could get up to two lessons a day in the summers (in exchange for stall cleaning, lamb feeding, and whatever else I was told to do) made me feel like I knew a LOT about riding. I also read a lot of books since my interest/obsession in horses preceded my actual start of riding, by oh, say 13 years, give or take.

My first riding instructor was classically trained. She was sophisticated, elegant, and one of the kindest women I have ever met in my life. I will remember and cherish ALL of the lessons she gave me. She taught me well, but she was much more interested in making sure I was having a good time than anything. She was not at the forefront of the ins-and-outs of trends in horse shows, nor did she much care for them. She’d had her heyday 10-20 years earlier, and a successful heyday it was. We were relentless at begging her to ride in the “Over-the-Hill” class at the show. I still wish she had obliged.

“I only knew what you told me!” was my mother’s response when I joked with her about how the videos contained (in addition to my sub-standard riding) her whispered voice saying how I’d been “robbed” in certain classes, or quietly criticizing the other rider’s performances, even making comments that the Judge must be blind or “related” to the winning riders since the class was being judged so unfairly. We weren’t truly poor sports, mind you, just disappointed in the outcome because we didn’t really know what the judges were looking for. Yes, we, all of us, only know what we’ve been taught. I thought I was riding well, so Mom thought I was riding well. We didn’t understand that the judge was looking for something different. We thought the judge was wrong. And we might have been a little bit biased… I’m sure you never felt the same, right?

It was the mid-nineties in a small farm town. There was no Internet. Today if I want to know what’s winning at the big shows I go to Youtube and I watch the winning runs from Scottsdale, Congress or the WEG. The information is right there. Back then we only had books, the small shows we could get to, and whatever instruction we could find. BOOKS! I’m currently re-reading what my first instructor referred to as her bible: “Horsemastership” by Margaret Cabell Self. Though there is a terrifying suggestion of spreading used motor oil on the arenas to keep the dust down, there are no animations, no color photos, just detailed explanatory text, line drawings, and grainy black & white photos in the middle of the book with references to the pages of text on which they are discussed. Mrs. Self’s words give me sensory flashbacks to my lessons, which is somewhat delightful. It also brings into perspective how difficult it was once for people to get information. You had to GO to a trainer to get information, now you can buy their DVD’s. Books are made with huge colorful photos on every page. You don’t have to flip to the photo section and remember what plate was referenced. Text is shortened. The Internet is lightening fast. I own a late 80’s copy of “Show Grooming: The Look of a Winner” which mentions the difference between the West Coast style of western riding and the East Coast style. Now we see videos of people riding western pleasure Quarter Horses in Germany, and aside from the arena banners I can’t read, it could be any big breed show in the US. Our global perspective has created a narrowing of our knowledge as well as a broadening. Mrs. Self goes into great detail in her sections on training about the different methods used by the different Olympic competing nations. I wonder if they’re all as different now? And what I wouldn’t give to have video of the first years of QH Congress.

But, back to my home movies. I watched with some embarrassment how far forward I was leaning at the trot, practically resting my hands on the horse’s neck. My feet were stuck out in front of me at the walk. My free hand in Western classes was stuck out to the side of me at a 30 degree angle. Then there was “Nikki.” We never understood why she won all the classes on that slow and boring QH gelding she had. He had no animation. Did I mention I was showing Arabians in a ring full of pasture pets, Paints, and QHs? He was so slow and he never extended a trot when asked. How on earth was she winning!?! Now that I’ve moved into that world of AQHA an APHA I see what was happening. I know that flat topline the judge was looking for. I also see, when I really look, how our performance was far from perfect. Not only was my posture crap, my horse was a bit of a nutter. I thought they were prejudiced against Arabs. Now I realize they were prejudiced against inconsistent horses who break gait and weren’t as mannerly as those dumpy quarter horses. It seems I have a selective memory of those rides. I still don’t go in for the crippled-crab-stepping-four-beat-brain-dead-frightened-dog-tailed daisy pickers, but I now recognize that if I am going to these open shows, I need to understand what is expected. If you’re going to bother playing the game, learn the rules.

These days I have the convenience of a pocket-sized HD video camera and a tripod. I can record myself ride any time, plus usually a barn friend to hold it for me at shows. I can edit those videos down and upload them to my blog and to Youtube to share with anyone who wishes to watch. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have this ability when I was 16 as the Internet would be full of my uninformed riding and videos of my show chickens, but that’s fodder for another blog. It’s scary sharing that much information with the world. Someone is certain to look at my recent videos and think exactly what I think when watching those old VHS tapes. I only hope they are either kind, or silent. I can watch the winning Amateur runs at Congress, do the pattern myself and compare the two clips. It can be an excellent training tool. It can also be depressing, knowing just how good we’re NOT. But I can watch my own progress and that is encouraging.

Back in high school I thought I knew what I was doing. Now, with a few years of perspective I realize how little I knew, but I also realize that an additional 15+ years of equine learning hasn’t made me nearly as knowledgeable as I thought I was when I was 16. I am aware that I will never know enough, but I keep trying. I take as many lessons and clinics as I can afford. I keep reading, both the new shiny books AND the old ones without pictures.

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Thoughts and Stuff - Bitting

I think a lot about fair treatment to animals. What is fair and reasonable care? When is abuse truly abuse and when is it a reaction to treatment that may not be understood?



A good example came from Flyin' Horse (FH) over at the Equine Mind Meld -

"Mugs can you talk about your ideas on bitting? It seems there is so much confusion out there about types of bits to use. I know you aren't supposed to use a 'bigger' bit to correct problems but what DO people use curb bits etc for? Why don't we continue to always ride in the lightest bits or even bitless if we can once the horse has been trained to it. What is the idea behind 'moving up' in bit type as the horse progresses in training?"

There is a huge misconception of what a "bigger" bit means. Bigger has to do with the horses ability to perform with less hold, less pull and more signal.

I have seen horrific damage done with snaffle bits, halters, hackamores, you name it. Strap it on a horse's head, involve a human and the potential for disaster is always there, depending on the ignorance of the user and the usee.

 It's not the equipment, it's the hands and education of the rider and the education of the horse that either causes pain or a beautiful ballet.

In order to have this conversation, I'm going to define the action behind three types of bits, the snaffle, the curb and the spade, or signal bit.

These are bits I'm comfortable discussing, but I think other riders in other disciplines can chime in here with explanations about the purpose of their bits.

If somebody wants to talk about double bitting in the dressage ring I'd love to learn.

SNAFFLE

A snaffle bit is a non-leverage bit. A ring on each side of a mouthpiece creates direct pressure from the reins to the riders hands.

A common misconception comes from thinking the broken mouthpiece, or single, double or triple-jointed mouth piece is what makes a bit a snaffle. It's not. It's all about the lack of a shank. So a mullen mouth or straight bar is still a snaffle, as long as it is on rings and not shanks.

A snaffle creates pressure on the tongue, bars, lips and sides of the mouth.

For every pound of  pressure exerted from the riders hand and equal amount of pressure goes straight to the horse's mouth. So the force ratio is 1:1.

Slap a thin, rough, twisted or wire mouthpiece between those rings and you can cause as much pain as anybody. Thinking of a snaffle as "mild" can get a rider into a lot of trouble. Even a simple, smooth, jointed snaffle can cause lots of problems.

The wonderful web site, Sustainable Dressage ( http://www.sustainabledressage.net/tack/bridle.php) explains what can happen much better than I can.

"The bit folds in the mouth when you pull on both reins (as in heavy contact). It folds around the lower jaw. It acts as a nut cracker on the bones of the lower jaw. Not only that, the V-shape of the bit will cause it to go higher in the middle and cause the link to hit the horse in the palate. Now, if you thought the bars of the lower jaw were sensitive, the palate is even more so. And no tongue can protect it. Also, the more vertical (and beyond) the head, the more the V points into the palate. The firm Herman Sprenger in Germany, who specialise in horse bits, have recently studied the bit's placement in the mouth and concluded that there's not at all as much room in the mouth as previously thought."

On the flip side, a jointed mouth piece snaffle is a great communication tool. I'm talking to my horse straight from my hands to his mouth from hand to rein to the corresponding side of the bit. There's a lot to like.

CURB

A curb bit is a leverage bit.

There are two sets of shanks on a curb. The upper, short shank, where the curb strap attaches and the lower, long shanks where the reins attach.

Any bit with shanks, regardless of the mouthpiece, is a leverage bit.

Leverage is created from the shanks and the curb strap. The pounds of pressure ratio goes up depending on the length of the shank according to the following formula:

The pivot point where the reins attach to the shank are divided by the pivot point where the curb chain attaches to the short shank.

A curb with a 5" rein shank and a 1" curb shank will generate a force ratio of 5:1. So a 20 lb. pull on the rein will result in 100 lbs. of pressure from the curb's "vise grip" onto the horse's jaw.

A curb bit works on the bars tongue and roof of the mouth through the mouthpiece, the poll by way of the shanks, the chin groove through the curb strap and with a "loose jaw" shank, the sides of the mouth and jaw.

When used appropriately, a curb increases communication by taking less action from the rider to get a response. The longer the shank, the farther back the bit has to rotate before ANY contact is made, so the horse has more warning the pressure is coming. Ideally, again with the use of educated hands, the horse learns to respond BEFORE any pressure is pt on the bit.

How tight the chin strap is adjusted also increases the pressure from the bit.

So the longer the shank, the better the communication.

Of course, if you're an uneducated jackass the longer the shank the more excruciating the pain.

Different shanks and mouthpieces cause different responses.

A solid mouth piece, like a grazing bit, is made for a horse that neck reins. When the rein touches the outside of the neck the pressure from the bit causes the horse to move away from the rein. Traditionally, the bit was designed to allow the horse to comfortably graze. It rolls back before making contact so he can stuff himself. Of course we all no better than to let our little Schnookums to eat with his bit on, don't we?

A loose jaw bit swivels where the mouthpiece attaches to the shank. This allows a slight rotation before the bit engages and the shanks can be worked independently of each other. Increased communication or pain, your choice.

Jointed mouthpieces usually accompany loose jaw bit. These mouthpieces (here's where the "snaffle" mix-up happens) increase the pressure on the bars due to the nutcracker action of the mouthpiece. In addition, the joint angle is altered by the shank lever to tip the bit downward and into the tongue. These bits are a lot harder on a horse, again, in the wrong hands, than a curb with a simple, solid, ported mouthpiece.

The shanks themselves can be straight, S-shaped or curved. The straighter the shank, the less warning before the bit engages.

So a dressage horse, ridden with contact and his face on the vertical, will be ridden in a straighter shank, and a cutting horse, ridden with almost no contact at all, and with his nose extended, will have shanks with a curve or an S to give plenty of warning that a cue is on the way.

SPADE

There's a world of difference between a leverage bit and a spade. A  leverage bit works mainly off pressure from the curb strap.The port is usually low and a chain is often used at varying degrees of tightness to increase pressure. The port size doesn't matter all that much since the pull of the reins on the shanks to the curb strap are what make things happen.

A horse in a leverage bit isn't taught to carry it. There's very little communication through the mouth, so it isn't necessary.

The old time cowboy needed to talk to his horse and use a rope, which is why riding one handed was so important.

The greater the horses ability to get in position quickly and correctly, the greater the chances of roping the cow, turning the herd or shooting his pistol in the air on Saturday night without nailing Miss Kitty.

All of the needed communication with the horse needed to come from tiny little adjustments in the reins, so the rope would stay neatly coiled, easy to get at, and keep every body safe in the mean time.

Small, tiny movements and pressures from the reins have to be taught, they can't be forced.This is where the spade bit came in.

The spade is considered a signal bit.The long (scary) tapering port, the spoon, roller and copper braces were all designed to encourage the horse to pick up his bit and carry it.

The seven or eight years needed to prepare a spade bit horse are intended to create a horse that NEVER gets yanked on.

We start our horses with the intention of making them communicate through whispers. The two-rein, the last phase before going into the full bridle, is where the horse has both a bosalito (1/4 or so inch hackamore) and the spade, so the rider has a place to go when the conversation needs to go above a whisper. If you need to yank, then get yourself to the bosalito.  The spade should NEVER EVER  be used as a punishing tool.

By the time a horse is ridden in just a spade the bit's only purpose is to receive signals from the riders hand. The horse responds to the signal, not pressure.

As far as I'm concerned, developing a spade bit horse is the most amazing, intriguing, complicated aspect of horsemanship I've ever gone for.

The reason I'm sitting out of the show pen during my five year wait to regain my amateur status is a simple one (well, other than the fact I'm really poor at the moment). I want to develop my bridle horse with no pressure on either of us. I want both of us to ride in the spade without fear and to achieve a lightness I've never created before.

This is why we go to a "bigger" bit.

The Bearable Lightness of Being III

horsegenes said: I am still out to lunch on whether this type of lightness is what I felt on Mikey. I don't have any connection with Mikey and he has been through several owners because frankly he can be kind of a butt head. He is not a super "honest" horse. I do believe that the connection is part of it. He understood my body language and what I wanted for sure. I think the other part of it is the horse's ability to move "lightly". His way of going, the length of his stride and how he uses his body. The difference between a football player and a ballerina. While a football player can be agile and athletic and perform ballet moves, he is never going to have look or feel of someone with a different body type.

Her point is valid. She was riding a horse she didn't have years or months of time on. She didn't know the horse's in and outs, the horse certainly didn't know hers.

This is where the next phase of lightness comes from. Training. Lightness comes from training our horses to respond to our cues immediately, softly and completely.

I was riding with a young trainer, Devon Warren, before I met K. The first time I went out to his place I went with a friend who took lessons with him. I just planned on watching, but he wasn't going to have that happen, so he put me on one of his horses.

I had much the experience horsegenes had. The horse was amazing and so lightening fast in his responses I couldn't begin to keep up with him. He was also a sad, angry, neurotic mess.

I left that day knowing two things. I wanted to be able to ride well enough to teach my horses to be like his. I didn't want to end up making them as miserable as the one I was on.

I would say that was the turning point for me and horse training. It began a passion, (maybe an obsession) that is still with me today.

The next big jolt came after I had been riding with K for about a year. He had me ride a mare he had taken to the top 10 in AQHA Open Cowhorse at the Worlds (his first big win) and had coached his wife to ride and win the AQHA Amateur Cowhorse Worlds on the same horse, the same year.

The thing that blew me away was how straight and upright she was. When I sent her down a line she went like an arrow, in spite of me, not because of me. She knew to hold herself up, stay dead straight and hold her line through run downs, circles, stops and spins. It was astounding.

I wanted that feeling in my horses, that assurance of what to do and how to do it, no matter who was on them, including me.

"They have to know their job," K said. "If you go into the show pen and turn into a gunzel, the horse has to know its job so well it can cover for you."

I cover the road I meandered down to find these truths in my stories. So I won't drag you through each step. It has come down to a few very basic truths and the simplicity is almost ridiculous, but that's where the complexity falls in too. Because let's face it, as humans we can't ever be happy if things are too simple. We have to muddy them up.


1. Make sure your cues are accurate and honest..

Example: Keeping forward movement

Before you can ask your horse to move forward with lively movement and stay there you have to actually want it to happen.

This is an area I fail in repeatedly. While my horses do eventually weed through my unclear signals and start moving forward freely it takes me way too long to get the message across. Why? Because I'm chicken. Buck, buck, BAWK!

I first noticed it in my students and then, regrettably, in myself. If I ask for a horse to move freely with my body, but I'm actually thinking, please don't go, please don't go, then they don't go.

This is often the case with a student trying to lope and with me going down the fence or opening up across a field.

I might physically tell my horse, GIDDYUP, but my stiffness, rein grabbing, stomach clenching body language is saying, JUST KIDDING! MAYBE NEXT TIME.

This creates a horse that doubts your cues, which leads to all kinds of messy misinterpretations.

If you aren't ready to lope, then work on free forward movement at a trot.

Don't cover your nerves by bossing your horse around. Tie downs, heavier bits, tons of lateral work or stopping and backing don't create forward. They stop it.

The biggest culprit? Cuing a horse to go forward with your legs while simultaneously clutching the reins. This is the single biggest block I see in achieving lightness.


2. Understand each maneuver 100% before you try it on your horse.

   Example: Lope depart.

   In order to train for a lope depart, you and your horse have to understand and be able to achieve easily -both leads, free, forward movement, trot with even, steady cadence, leg yield at the trot, and having your horse wait to translate your cue change instead of getting upset or anticipating you.

  If you don't understand how to get these things it's your job to learn them, understand them, and then teach them to your horse.

3. Make sure your horse understands each maneuver 100% before you expect success

 Example: Run down

In cowhorse and reining one of our big fancy moves is the rundown, which ends in a long, beautiful slide stop.

The biggest mistake I see made is when horse and rider only think of the stop and not what it takes to get there.

The horse needs to know how to take the line she's put on and stay there. If you have to hold her straight through the entire maneuver then you will ball things up, trust me.

When I first start a young horse we work on going straight every bit as much as circles and lateral movement.

When she can hold the line she's put on (at a walk) then we start working on distance. When she will go the length of a field, or the arena then we move up to a trot.

When she can hold a straight line at the trot for as long as needed on a loose rein, without my legs holding her in place, then we move up to the lope.

I don't worry about building speed or heaven forbid, connecting the stop to the end of the line until I know 100% she can hold a straight line.

Then she is ready to learn to transition speed up and down on that line and I don't have to worry about her fading to the right or left.

When she understands the two concepts together I'll add the stop, which I've been working on separately.

4. Understand release as a reward.

    Example: opening or closing a gate

   We're going to get into the cookie giving, horse hugging argument here again, I can just feel it.
My biggest problem with giving a horse a cookie, a pat or a clicker as a reward for correct behavior is it stops all action (see #2) and takes the horse's mind off the job at hand.

Giving a release as a reward needs to become as natural to the rider as a squeeze to create action.
A release can be given in the middle of a rundown at 25 mph and your horse will feel it, get it and prepare for the next step in your plans, if she has been conditioned from day one to understand the release as a reward.

A release is the cessation of hold. The reins relax, the legs relax, the assistance you have been giving your horse to accomplish a maneuver ends, because the horse has done what you asked.

If the horse immediately quits the action you're rewarding then you guys have still have some work to do.

So, onto our gate.

Step one. Stand by the gate. Nothing else.
Position your horse, release your cues and expect the horse to relax. Right there. Not moving one foot.
This first step can take a while.
Position, release.
Step two. Get contact with your horse. Put hand on the gate. Release.
Step three. Contact. Unlatch gate. Release.
Step four.Contact.  Ask horse to side pass away and open gate. Release pressure for a split second but don't let go of contact.
Step  five. Move haunches around gate while your hand stays on said gate (I'll let the gate swing with babies, they wobble at first). Release pressure only.
Step six. Side pass to close gate. Release all cues.
Step seven. Get contact. Close gate. Release.
Step eight. (very important!) Stand and relax, horse completely released until she stands.
If the horse gets antsy repeat step one.

See what I mean? By making the release an understood reward you get the horse to break down the maneuver, understand the concept and take small steps.

5. Build your base

Example: Turn to the left or right

Lightness doesn't come right away with each maneuver. When we first start teaching our horses something it can feel a lot like towing a cinder block through a mud hole.

If I want to turn my horse to the left, I will set up my cue as clearly and simply as possible. For me, that means picking up my left rein and later a cue with a neck rein.

If you have a different plan, that's fine, just make sure the horse understands each aspect before you put it in place.

I simply pick up my directing rein, make enough contact to slightly turn the nose and wait.

Eventually the little slug will turn and go. I follow the first sign of forward movement to the left with a squeeze from both legs, then release my cues.

This is my base.

Every time I feel an improvement in response, that becomes my next expectation. So the base builds and lightness increases.

6. Be consistent with all cues.

example: Simple leg cues

This is much harder than it sounds. This means your body must repeat the cue the same every time.
Another reason to keep things simple.

My horses all know, without fail, that both legs on means go, one leg off means turn to the open leg, both legs off means stop and back until I rest my legs on them again.

Until these things are forever and ever embedded in their brains I don't add the subtleties of lift, lateral work or drive.

My leg cues are clear and concise, every time. Again, as time goes on we begin to read each other and add depth and nuance to my leg cues.

This can only happen if my horse truly understands what is going on with each cue.

Lightness comes from communication. If we learn to communicate clearly then the stress begins to fall away from both me and my horse and the lightness increases. You and yours too.