Tally

My student, Tim, the shy architect bought Tally.

They hit it off famously. She didn't mind his stiff, first year rider's seat, or the insecurity of his hands. She seemed to thrive under his gentle touch. He was amazed at her level, gliding gaits and her handle. They were a match made in heaven.

 I was terrified.

I explained how green she was, that she came from a very rough past and had a rocky start, to say the least.
Tim and Tally gazed at me with calm, happy eyes, equally incapable of comprehending what I was saying. With Tim it was because he was smitten and Tally refused to be rattled or take an uneven step with him. As far as  Tally goes, well, she was a horse.

He wanted to write me a check right there, but I insisted he lease her for sixty days first. He said fine. Then I added he needed to keep paying me to ride her at least twice a week, take lessons from me twice a week and only ride Tally while I was with him for the duration of the lease. That was fine too.

So we made our tentative deal. Tally would stay with me at my barn for the first thirty days, then we would move her down to his. I had covered every base I could think of. I had trained Tally with everything I had. She had been a rock for many weeks.

"Janet," K told me, "you are not much of a horse trader."

"I don't want to get anybody killed, that's all," I replied.

"I completely get that," K said. "It's a tough call."

Somehow he didn't make me feel any more confident.

Yet they looked beautiful together. Tim fit her, and Tally fit him. They were both small and muscled, tentative and excited. He took her for long walks, he was a hiker before the horse bug bit him, and Tally was a willing companion on the trail. I figured they were doing the ultimate desensitizing walking the trails. Tim had Tally willingly passing bikes and joggers an not flying into a wild panic as they came from behind.

I started to relax.

"Janet, I want to buy Tally now" Tim said. "We're fine, and I'd feel better if I owned her before I moved her. I want her to be at my barn."

I still hesitated.

I was looking at a situation no responsible horse trainer or dealer will let happen.

Green plus green equals black and blue, no matter how good it looks on the surface. If I was really honest, which I had been studiously avoiding, my equation was actually, green plus green plus green.
I was considered very green in the cow horse world. I was in my first year as a competitor and had never ridden horses of this caliber before. Reactive, sensitive, quick legged and quick minded, I was in a mad scramble to keep up with these horses and I had a lot of riding and training years under my belt.

Tim did not. Call Tally crazy, bad-minded, dangerous, all of that was up for debate. I truly, deep down in my gut, believed she was well on the road to recovery. She was, however, all cow horse.

What finally made me overcome my paranoia and sell the horse was the tight bond between the two. She lit up like my Grandma's birthday cake every time she saw him. Besides, Tim promised to keep up our riding schedule once they moved down the pass. I'd keep riding her and he wouldn't ride her unless I was there.

It kept getting better. Tally settled right in and their unique relationship continued to flourish. Tim was a new rider in his 40's, but he was smart, athletic and dedicated. He just kept getting better. He could sit her stops, guide her through a lead change -- and actually know if he got it -- and sit through a set of spins without getting dizzy. Tally stayed solid.

We started making plans for his first show. I would ride her in a warm up show about three hours away and if all went well, Tim was going to come with me to Amarillo for our first AQHA, NRCHA sanctioned show of the year.

I had just sat in my chair with a quart of water and a Mike's Hard Lemonade when my phone started ringing. I hadn't been home for ten minutes and I really didn't want to spend the next hour talking to a client about Fluffy's progress. Jim went to answer for me, but came out carrying the phone a few minutes later.

"It's Nancy," he said.

My mouth went dry and I didn't know if I could find the spit to talk to her. Nancy was the BO at Tim's barn.

"Janet?" She said. "We had an accident out at the arena today. Tim and Tally had quite the wreck."

Good Dog, Bad Dog...."

 Charlie, my rat terrier, is putting modern day dog trainers to shame.
Shame on you! Thump. Bad trainer! Go lay down! Click, click. Good down! Have a cookie!

I am experimenting on poor Brockle. Not really. Oh, I'm experimenting all right, but simply in how to clean up our communication.  When I see the light go on in his eyes, I know I've got it and I keep that method. If I find an even better one, I keep that on. So I don't really mean, "poor" Brockle, because, if anything, he is becoming multi-lingual.

A few days ago I was experimenting with playing tug-of-war. I already knew it was a dominance game dogs like to play with each other and their owners. I knew it simulated play over a carcass. I also understood the importance of making the dog begin and end the game on my say so.

I had outlawed the game in the house. Jim's balance is precarious and mine can be, depending on the day, so my house has become a quiet zone. No running, jumping, game playing and so forth. Quiet, gentle behavior only, with plenty of ear scratches and back rubs. The same rules apply to the dogs.

Back to tug-of-war...I had read that for everything we teach a dog they need to also learn a counter maneuver. So if I teach sit, I need to teach stand. If I teach "Quiet" I need to teach "Speak." It occurred to me, it would be wise for me to have a command for "Give," since Brockle has a high prey drive and a lightening fast reaction to protect his group. I don't quite have a handle on either of these reactions yet. I might, at some point, want to say "Give" so he'll drop the Chihuahua or mailman.

So I decided we would play tug-of-war in the backyard. I would initiate the game and make him release and quit at my request. Brockle thought this was a great idea. He had no intention of following through on my "We're done!" command though. He slitted his eyes, probably to keep the sun out of his very enlarged pupils, and dug in.

I was going to try something new, which according to my reading, was a much more effective way to train my dog. I held on to the toy, not giving an inch, but not pulling either, stood up straight and looked away.

After a few minutes, it worked.

I said, "Good dog!" and gave him a scratch.

We tried again. I said "Get it!" and the tugging commenced. I said "Give!" stood up, looked away and prepared to wait. Charlie came flying up, slammed all of his 20 muscley pounds into Brockle's shoulder, growled and snapped, and Brockle obediently gave up the toy.

Charlie looked at Brockle with a very clear, "Mind what she says, boy!" and stalked off.

We tried again. I said "Give!' to Brockle, Charlie came flying, hackles up. I said "Off!"to Charlie  this time, he skulked away, Brockle argued for a few minutes and then gave up the toy.

This went on for a while, Brockle got to where he was relinquishing the toy within 30 seconds or so, so I released him from our session and started to head towards the house.

I turned  at the door to watch Brockle play. He was flipping the tug-of-war toy in Charlie's face. Charlie ignored him for a bit, finally got  a weary, aggrieved look in his eye, stood up and grabbed it.

This should be good. Brockle is roughly three times Charlie's size.

The second Charlie felt a tug, he looked Brockle in the eye, growled once, and Brockle IMMEDIATELY dropped the toy.

That's the response I want. Dang it.

Charlie did not say "Good boy!" either. He walked around with the toy, stiff legged and hackles up, for a few seconds then dropped the toy and lay down next to it, with a meaningful glare at Brockle. Brockle looked sad, bounced around and looked cute, then gave up and left.

So yes, I'll keep reading, but I'm going to start paying a lot more attention to Charlie.

Some of my observations so far:

Dogs will lay down dogs to make a point.

Horses do not lay down horses to make their point.

The same people who cry "Animal abuse!" when a trainer lays down a dog, are the first in line at a Ken McNabb clinic to teach their horses to lay down, "because it creates a calm, cooperative state."
I'm confused.

My house has become very calm, very peaceful and very under control since Brockle came. I'm treating them as a group, or a pack, if you will, with me as their leader. Can't tell you if I'm calm, assertive or benevolent. They're learning the same rules Brockle is. They back off and sit when someone comes to the door.
They wait patiently for their meals.
Nobody bothers 9-pound Snocone while she very slowly works through her meals, even though she's the first to be given her food and the last to finish.
All dogs wait at the bottom of the stairs while people go up and at the top while people go down.
All dogs sit quietly to have their leashes put on.
No dog pulls on the leash.
All dogs sit quietly when I take off their leash and wait until I say, "Go play!" to leave.
We don't go for walks, playtime, or eat until all dogs are lying quietly and not staring at me.

I'm not adverse to using treats when what I'm teaching my dogs makes them unsure or nervous. It doesn't make me like treats, I feel like I'm using a crutch to cover up my poor dog handling skills. If I knew what I was doing, they wouldn't get upset. In the meantime, I'll use treats, but I won't be happy until I know why I'm worrying them and stop it.

Dogs feed their puppies. They play with them and tolerate quite a bit of nonsense. They cuddle them.
When the puppies grow up they quit sharing food. They play when it's appropriate, but become much less tolerant. They are still affectionate, but it's much more subtle. Status is made clear before affection happens.
I want my puppies to be puppies and my dogs to be dogs, so I'm going to think about this for a while.

I've got some fun concepts forming, and dog stories building, in the mean time, I'll get back to Tally.

Swish

This is why I am so conflicted with the show circuit.
This colt is lovely.
His head carriage is much more natural than what we've seen in the last several years.
I was happy to see it.
But then I saw his tail.
His poor,mangled, surgically blocked tail.

A blocked tail hangs long and low and doesn't switch in frustration. It gives the look we stock horse people love so much, but doesn't require training a horse so at ease he runs with a quiet tail on his own. It also stops one of horses main means of communication. Blocking a horse's tail is the equivalent of an overdose of Novocaine for one of us.

"Mhuh? Glable, mleah, slomo, nee?" Drool....

You might still be talking but nobody is going to understand you.

A few injections of Everclear and you've got the look we want in western pleasure, reining, cow horse, cutting and halter. Before anybody gets too excited about me opening the door to slam western events, I hear tail blocking is now prevalent in dressage, all the way up to USEF events.

We need to keep our outrage pointed where it belongs, at anybody, in any event, with any horse, willing to damage them permanently for cosmetic purposes. It's crazy. It's the industry.

I'm going to 'fess up here. I've done it. Once. I could give you all my excuses and reasons why I did it, but I'm not. I will tell you I had it done by a veterinarian who was able to inject the horse so the effect was temporary. If everything worked out right of course. I was lucky, it was temporary, and the horse I had injected recovered completely. I'll never do it again. If I can't win because my horse rats out a misplaced
spur or a sore hock with an angry snap of her tail, then so be it. I'm not a good enough trainer to get the job done, at least as far as I'm concerned.

Before you hang me from the highest tree here, keep in mind, a lot of my opinions and thought processes come from experience, seeing the results of our idiocy, and deciding I wanted no part of it. Not from jumping on the soap box of indignant ignorance and screaming my head off. I'll be as honest with my mistakes as I am with my successes if they are helping people learn. As soon as they become a reason to tar and feather me and run me out of town, well, I'll go back to showing photos of fairy princess horses.

Tail blocking hides the myriad of unfair training involved behind winning big. It hides sore backs, over cuing, fear of being spurred until they bleed and spur stops. It covers exhaustion, fear and anger. Gums, lips and tongues ravaged by lip chains and twisted wire snaffles aren't an issue with a quiet tail.

Blocked tails hide the stress of being started too young and pushed too hard. We insist that our horses perform at mentally  impossible levels and appear happy while they're doing it. So let's go ahead and ignore the possible side effects.  How about fecal dribbling? There's a nice look for your dappled gray reining champion. Problems with foaling, impactions and spinal displacement are all a price your horse can pay for a five minute run in the arena.

Of course it doesn't hide anything, not really. If you watch long enough, you'll learn to recognize the spastic twitch of a blocked tail, trying desperately to say what needs to be said. It's like walking into a warehouse and seeing a bound and gagged woman hogtied to a chair. Her eyes are bulging out of her head, she's covered with cuts and bruises and when you see her you say, "My she has pretty hair." Because if she was in pain she would say something, right?

What seems truly crazy to me, is we're taking away our horses rudder. A horse's tail is the counter balance to their head through all those NRHA, NRCHA circles, spins and turns on the fence. How the hell is a horse supposed to give a calm and balanced performance when his tail is hanging down like a weighted baseball bat?


Wouldn't it be more interesting if there were points given for the use of a quiet tail to enhance a performance and points taken away for rider interference causing a loss of harmony?
How fun would that be?

So here you go. Can you see it? Watch the dock of his tail.

NRHA Futurity Champion