Yesterday I was up even earlier than usual to finish an essay for a writing contest a friend encouraged me to enter. If I win, Paul Taylor's, here I come and I'm walking out with a fine new saddle! That finished and e-mailed off, I hung around the house until about 11am or so, doing as few chores as I felt I could get away with before heading north to Heather's. I kept stalling at the door, feeling as if I were forgetting something, since almost all my gear is up there. I felt so empty handed!
Heather, Nita and I are always recycling/exchanging tack. I have an over-the-door rack in the laundry room that had become a tangled mass of halters, headstalls, reins, lead ropes, etc. several layers deep. The top and most often used stuff is already up there. Heather had suggested I might need still more stopping power with Pokey, and that I bring the rest of the bits and headstalls so we could experiment.
One item buried at the very bottom of one of the hooks served as a reminder of how far Poco has come: the stud chain I used to have to use on him. When his former owner's job caused him to have no time to spend with Poco (nee Cappuccino), care and feeding duties were relegated to his wife and kids. Bossy, pushy Pokey, 150-200 lbs. heavier than he is now, walked all over them, figuratively speaking. If he ever had manners, he had most certainly forgotten them, and added some bad habits and appytude to an already unsafe repertoire of tricks. That's the horse this naive newbie brought home. I bought the stud chain within the first 2 weeks, and it was obvious he knew exactly what it was, because from the second I put it on, he had total respect for it, before I ever had to yank him up. I used it for several months, until I felt confident he wasn't going to pull some boneheaded move like trying to toss me around like a nerf ball. I gave it to Heather for O (Sugarbush Harley's Classic O), the harlequin draft stallion standing at her place, who had busted one two days earlier.
Sure enough, when I got there and showed Heather what I had brought, she grabbed one of the bits to use on Cayenne, a green broke QH filly. In turn, she gave me a different, slightly more severe bit from her own tangled mass of headstalls to try on Poco. Dang it, I can't remember what it's called. Heather tacked up Cayenne, Nita rode Diesel (nee Stevie, OTTB), and Jim saddled his favorite mount, a QH gelding called Doodles. The plan was, we would play "ponies on parade," a simple workout for everyone. For Cayenne, this was to be a lesson in basics. For Poco, it was a lesson in how we act around girls.
As we all know, plans sometimes don't execute as well as we'd like, and this was one of those cases. Cayenne had a bad case of the I-don't want-to's, which turned into a bad case of the stupids. Heather wisely made the decision to make this a ground lesson, and got out the driving reins, staying at the near end of the arena. Diesel had been worked hard the previous day and just didn't seem up to the workout, while Doodles was a little too fresh and rarin' to go for Jim. Jim and Nita decided to trade horses, then tack, so they were up at the barn dinking around with all that for quite awhile. Meanwhile the lesson with Cayenne had deteriorated, so Heather ended on a win and called it good. I was glad, because every time Poco saw Cayenne act up, I could feel him react, like maybe he thought that was a fun idea he'd like to try. I was grateful for the new bit.
For awhile, Pokey and I had the whole arena to do as we wished. Heather was too far away to shout instructions, so we were on our own. We did a lot of trotting, with me trying to hold him back to a nice posting rhythm, rather than rushing into that stage of trot just shy of a lope. Again, the new bit really helped, and I was able to ride with a lot less contact. I was trying to do as little head reining as I could, and was actually able to negotiate some turns with just leg and rein cues. I think at some point, I'm going to want to take a few western lessons. I get the concept, but lack finesse. In other words, we're doing it, sort of, but it ain't pretty. But I have no reason to complain and every reason to crow, because one more time, that little horse worked his heinie off for me. Sure, I got some 'tude -- that's just my horse. Wouldn't be my Pokey if I didn't get a little 'tude! We've come a very long way from that fat, crazy, unpredictable beast at the end of that stud chain. I am so proud of him, it brings tears to my eyes.
Jim, who had knee surgery recently, decided he'd had enough, but Nita eventually joined us on Doodles, and we played follow the leader. Like Diesel, I think Pokey was feeling the two days of hard work in the hot, humid temps -- mid 90s with 94% humidity by noon -- so we cut the lesson a tad short. He got hosed down and drank a bucket of weak Gatorade, then got put back with his buddies, Jaz and Quaker. If I get back up there again over this long weekend, I'll either ride Jaz or one of Heather's horses, and let Pokey rest. I think he's earned a few days off.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Ponies on Holiday
The past couple of days have been busy ones indeed at Casa Fry. Last Saturday, Mike and I headed to the farm Co-op in Gainesville, TX, to price weed, seed and feed options from the nice Ag man. We didn't have the trailer hitch on the truck, so although we knew what we wanted, we were unable to take it with us. Mike said he’d come back sometime during the week and pick up the hopper of our custom mixed seed/feed mix. The weeding will wait.
I don’t know if it was a failure to communicate, a misunderstanding, or if I just didn't listen, but on Tuesday afternoon, it became clear to me that Mike intended to seed and feed the very next day. No provisions had been made for the horses; the question had not even been asked: are the horses safe on the property as we spread 170 lbs. of seed and, more importantly, fertilizer (read that: chemicals) per acre?
I was dumbfounded (and pissed) that Mike would even consider doing such a thing without having asked that question. He, in turn, deftly tossed it back on me – I should have asked the question. Well, I would have, had it been clear the implementation of the plan was imminent. He took it a step further, saying I had messed up his plan, and how he was just trying to help ME and make things better for ME and MY ponies. Whatever. He should know by now I don't do guilt, and besides, there’s already a St. Michael. This had all the earmarks of a nasty brawl in the making, but I chose the high road (or the path of least resistance) and pleaded mea culpa. I then began the search for the answer to The Question, from which to create an appropriate plan of action.
To make a very long story not quite so, I was unable to get a straight answer. The best I was able to glean was that the process would be futile if the horses remained on the land. Yeah, okay, but what about my only concern: the health and safety of my horses? We finally settled (or so I thought) on putting the horses in the round pen until I got home from work and could transport them to Heather’s. Mike did ask the Co-op the next morning prior to bringing the stuff home, and they assured him the horses would be fine. Maybe so, but had I been there, I would have put them in the round pen anyway.
Heather had not received my phone message nor had she checked her email, and was taken by surprise when I told her Wednesday afternoon I needed to bring the horses up later that day. This plan had been in place, albeit nebulously, for about 4-5 weeks, and she is nothing, if not flexible, so it was no problem. Jaz would be turned out with the herd, while Poco would be kept separate with the geldings and a yearling stallion, who is already taller than Poco. Call me a sap, but I was actually getting teary at the thought of not having my Boyz at home for at least the next month, maybe longer while the rye grass and oats become established.
The front of the stock trailer still had hay in it from when we loaded it up early this month, but there was plenty of room for the horses. Mike loaded Jaz while I went to grab Poco, who was in rare form. He was trotting around, tail flagged, like "nanny-nanny-boo-boo." I finally walked back to the house and pulled out my secret weapon: the treat we call "horse crack." They are little crescent-shaped apple cookies that, try as they may, the horses cannot resist. They may hate what's about to happen to them, but the cookies win every time. He tried, but in the end, it was like one of those cartoons where the dog floats up in the air on his back, moaning in ecstasy. Another one bites the dust hey hey hey. And once loaded, they thought they had died and gone to pony heaven in the dining car.
When I got there, the plan changed. O (Sugarbush Harley’s Classic O), a magnificent harlequin draft stallion, had jumped the arena fence at 1:30 the previous morning, and could no longer be trusted to stay penned therein. So Pokey and Jaz got to stay in the arena instead, while O was sent to solitary confinement in a stall. He was not happy. I brought all my tack, feed and supplements, so it took awhile to unload everything. We also distributed the rest of the hay from the trailer to some highly appreciative horses. There was a lot more hay in there than it originally looked like. The chickens did their part in helping to clean out the trailer, and Nita even hosed it out for me. I am leaving it there. I was too tired to ride.
Next day, I worked from home (telecommuted) until about 4pm, then headed back up to Heather's for a lesson. Nita rode Quaker, a darling, bombproof QH gelding, I rode Pokey, and Heather officiated. I'll admit, I had my own agenda and mostly did my own thing. Heather helped me with body position, bending, and keeping Poco at an ideal speed for the maneuvers we were doing -- he gets a bit over-zealous and likes to rush. I'm really working hard on #1 communicating effectively and consistently with him, while maintaining control (always a plus, eh?) and; #2 being solid at a trot. I am determined to sit a trot and soon! Poco did fantastic. I got the tiniest bit of attitude, but he worked hard for me. I kept watching his ears and I could tell he was really listening to me. He was responding to leg cues so well, Heather had me take the reins in one hand just to see if he still remembers neck reining. We did pretty well at serpentines but not so well at actually turning. He's a little rusty (a pun, since one of his former names was Rusty), but with a little instruction for us both, I know he'd pick it right back up.
Quaker and Pokey were both sweating profusely, so they got hosed down, then stalled for some grain before being turned back out. Heather, Nita and I sat, drank Gatorade and watched the sun set and darkness fall, as the herd thundered in for their evening visit.
I had thought I might make it up there today again to ride some more, but the rest of life got in the way. There's a chance of rain this evening, which we're hoping is not just Mother Nature being a tease, as she often is this time of year in North Texas. I'm grateful and excited for this long weekend and the opportunity to play some more with Poco. Heather and Nita both expressed an interest in riding Jaz, who first belonged to Heather's ex, then to Nita, so it's like a reunion for them. I'll be headed out there tomorrow for more fun and adventure. Rain or shine, I'll be a happy camper.
And maybe, I'll remember to actually take my camera out of my truck and take some pix! One of these days, with Heather's permission, I'll show you some of her horses of which I'm particularly fond.
I don’t know if it was a failure to communicate, a misunderstanding, or if I just didn't listen, but on Tuesday afternoon, it became clear to me that Mike intended to seed and feed the very next day. No provisions had been made for the horses; the question had not even been asked: are the horses safe on the property as we spread 170 lbs. of seed and, more importantly, fertilizer (read that: chemicals) per acre?
I was dumbfounded (and pissed) that Mike would even consider doing such a thing without having asked that question. He, in turn, deftly tossed it back on me – I should have asked the question. Well, I would have, had it been clear the implementation of the plan was imminent. He took it a step further, saying I had messed up his plan, and how he was just trying to help ME and make things better for ME and MY ponies. Whatever. He should know by now I don't do guilt, and besides, there’s already a St. Michael. This had all the earmarks of a nasty brawl in the making, but I chose the high road (or the path of least resistance) and pleaded mea culpa. I then began the search for the answer to The Question, from which to create an appropriate plan of action.
To make a very long story not quite so, I was unable to get a straight answer. The best I was able to glean was that the process would be futile if the horses remained on the land. Yeah, okay, but what about my only concern: the health and safety of my horses? We finally settled (or so I thought) on putting the horses in the round pen until I got home from work and could transport them to Heather’s. Mike did ask the Co-op the next morning prior to bringing the stuff home, and they assured him the horses would be fine. Maybe so, but had I been there, I would have put them in the round pen anyway.
Heather had not received my phone message nor had she checked her email, and was taken by surprise when I told her Wednesday afternoon I needed to bring the horses up later that day. This plan had been in place, albeit nebulously, for about 4-5 weeks, and she is nothing, if not flexible, so it was no problem. Jaz would be turned out with the herd, while Poco would be kept separate with the geldings and a yearling stallion, who is already taller than Poco. Call me a sap, but I was actually getting teary at the thought of not having my Boyz at home for at least the next month, maybe longer while the rye grass and oats become established.
The front of the stock trailer still had hay in it from when we loaded it up early this month, but there was plenty of room for the horses. Mike loaded Jaz while I went to grab Poco, who was in rare form. He was trotting around, tail flagged, like "nanny-nanny-boo-boo." I finally walked back to the house and pulled out my secret weapon: the treat we call "horse crack." They are little crescent-shaped apple cookies that, try as they may, the horses cannot resist. They may hate what's about to happen to them, but the cookies win every time. He tried, but in the end, it was like one of those cartoons where the dog floats up in the air on his back, moaning in ecstasy. Another one bites the dust hey hey hey. And once loaded, they thought they had died and gone to pony heaven in the dining car.
When I got there, the plan changed. O (Sugarbush Harley’s Classic O), a magnificent harlequin draft stallion, had jumped the arena fence at 1:30 the previous morning, and could no longer be trusted to stay penned therein. So Pokey and Jaz got to stay in the arena instead, while O was sent to solitary confinement in a stall. He was not happy. I brought all my tack, feed and supplements, so it took awhile to unload everything. We also distributed the rest of the hay from the trailer to some highly appreciative horses. There was a lot more hay in there than it originally looked like. The chickens did their part in helping to clean out the trailer, and Nita even hosed it out for me. I am leaving it there. I was too tired to ride.
Next day, I worked from home (telecommuted) until about 4pm, then headed back up to Heather's for a lesson. Nita rode Quaker, a darling, bombproof QH gelding, I rode Pokey, and Heather officiated. I'll admit, I had my own agenda and mostly did my own thing. Heather helped me with body position, bending, and keeping Poco at an ideal speed for the maneuvers we were doing -- he gets a bit over-zealous and likes to rush. I'm really working hard on #1 communicating effectively and consistently with him, while maintaining control (always a plus, eh?) and; #2 being solid at a trot. I am determined to sit a trot and soon! Poco did fantastic. I got the tiniest bit of attitude, but he worked hard for me. I kept watching his ears and I could tell he was really listening to me. He was responding to leg cues so well, Heather had me take the reins in one hand just to see if he still remembers neck reining. We did pretty well at serpentines but not so well at actually turning. He's a little rusty (a pun, since one of his former names was Rusty), but with a little instruction for us both, I know he'd pick it right back up.
Quaker and Pokey were both sweating profusely, so they got hosed down, then stalled for some grain before being turned back out. Heather, Nita and I sat, drank Gatorade and watched the sun set and darkness fall, as the herd thundered in for their evening visit.
I had thought I might make it up there today again to ride some more, but the rest of life got in the way. There's a chance of rain this evening, which we're hoping is not just Mother Nature being a tease, as she often is this time of year in North Texas. I'm grateful and excited for this long weekend and the opportunity to play some more with Poco. Heather and Nita both expressed an interest in riding Jaz, who first belonged to Heather's ex, then to Nita, so it's like a reunion for them. I'll be headed out there tomorrow for more fun and adventure. Rain or shine, I'll be a happy camper.
And maybe, I'll remember to actually take my camera out of my truck and take some pix! One of these days, with Heather's permission, I'll show you some of her horses of which I'm particularly fond.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Sunday Walkabout
It was a beautiful morning here in North Texas, with the promise that temps would be in the 90s by about 11am. I was not of a mind to work the horses in the round pen, so I decided to take Jazu down the road. Jaz is always a good boy, but even his patience was tried by the audacity of the flies. Although I sprayed him really well before we left, they were giving him fits. At one point, I thought for sure he was going to rear. I could feel him flinching and trying to hold himself back. They were brutal!
Here are some pix.
Poco, of course, threw a hissy fit when we left. Here he is as we returned. Can you see the Appytude?
I was tired and hot, but I still wanted to give Pokey a go. I saddled him up and rather than the Bitless Bridle (Dr. Cook's), I used a moderate snaffle for a little more stopping power. We did a few turns around the front, and he was pretty good. So I got brave and took him out the front gate. At first, I rode him on the property next to ours, which is undeveloped. Still did pretty well, responded very well to leg cues; resisted a little, but easily corrected. So we headed down the road. He was a little excitable, but totally under control. He didn't like it when we got to the place with the 3 Labs that carry on when you go past, and he balked. I turned him around and asked nicely for him to move out, but he planted himself and started to back up. I asked again with more leg and a cluck, he still wouldn't do it. I calmly and ever-so-slightly tapped him on the butt with the crop and he totally overreacted -- you'd have sworn I really whacked him -- and did a little hop. I stayed calm, waited a sec for him to relax, then asked again for the walk and got it. I pushed him way out of his comfort zone and wouldn't turn around until he wasn't resisting me. On the way back, I asked for a trot, then for a few wonderful seconds, we were actually loping, which was very cool. Although you can't see it in the pix, most of those grassy areas along the sides of the road are chock full of flat rocks, so the footing is not as sure as it seems at first glance. My horses are not shod, so there are only a few places I'm comfortable asking for anything other than a walk for more than a couple strides.
I have to keep both hands on the wheel, so to speak, when riding Poco, so no on-board pix. Here's my little tank, minus headstall, prior to being tacked down, just about to yawn. Note the tongue and the rock star mane. It must have been a somewhat positive experience for him, because when I untied him, he lingered with me for quite awhile.
It was a lovely day to attend the Heavenly Church of the Divine Walkabout.
PS - Forgot to mention that Poco actually lifted all four feet for me to pick and didn't try to lean on me as he was doing it! This is huge, and the best he's ever done. He picks his feet up, but even Jon the farrier has to work so Poco doesn't lean on him.
Here are some pix.
Poco, of course, threw a hissy fit when we left. Here he is as we returned. Can you see the Appytude?
I was tired and hot, but I still wanted to give Pokey a go. I saddled him up and rather than the Bitless Bridle (Dr. Cook's), I used a moderate snaffle for a little more stopping power. We did a few turns around the front, and he was pretty good. So I got brave and took him out the front gate. At first, I rode him on the property next to ours, which is undeveloped. Still did pretty well, responded very well to leg cues; resisted a little, but easily corrected. So we headed down the road. He was a little excitable, but totally under control. He didn't like it when we got to the place with the 3 Labs that carry on when you go past, and he balked. I turned him around and asked nicely for him to move out, but he planted himself and started to back up. I asked again with more leg and a cluck, he still wouldn't do it. I calmly and ever-so-slightly tapped him on the butt with the crop and he totally overreacted -- you'd have sworn I really whacked him -- and did a little hop. I stayed calm, waited a sec for him to relax, then asked again for the walk and got it. I pushed him way out of his comfort zone and wouldn't turn around until he wasn't resisting me. On the way back, I asked for a trot, then for a few wonderful seconds, we were actually loping, which was very cool. Although you can't see it in the pix, most of those grassy areas along the sides of the road are chock full of flat rocks, so the footing is not as sure as it seems at first glance. My horses are not shod, so there are only a few places I'm comfortable asking for anything other than a walk for more than a couple strides.I have to keep both hands on the wheel, so to speak, when riding Poco, so no on-board pix. Here's my little tank, minus headstall, prior to being tacked down, just about to yawn. Note the tongue and the rock star mane. It must have been a somewhat positive experience for him, because when I untied him, he lingered with me for quite awhile.
It was a lovely day to attend the Heavenly Church of the Divine Walkabout.PS - Forgot to mention that Poco actually lifted all four feet for me to pick and didn't try to lean on me as he was doing it! This is huge, and the best he's ever done. He picks his feet up, but even Jon the farrier has to work so Poco doesn't lean on him.
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