Rescuing Rusty

The horses have a little pasture I made them, back in the tree row. Belly high grass, untouched except for by deer and children’s feet as they scamper through finding one hideout or another, trees overhead offering shade and room for them to wander together grazing and dozing as they wish. Only they don’t wish.

Summer is here. The days are hot. The flies are atrocious! All they want to do is stand in the sun-baked, dust corral and stomp flies. I cover them in fly spray and the flies think it’s candy coating. I turn them into their lush, shady pasture first thing in the morning and they are back in the corral by midday. This works, for the most part, except that Rusty has developed a terrible neurosis. He is terrified of the gate. Coyote and Onna come in and he is left out there, alone, frantic to reach his friends and yet, unable. He races the fence-line, calling for them desperately, begging them to come back to him. They ignore him completely. Secretly mocking him. Probably taunting him in their unmoving, horse way.

I go out to save him, calling to him as I come so he will know help is on the way. He answers with an overwrought whinny, thrilled that help is coming. Galloping to meet me, he leaps a branch and turns the corner. Then stops. He is stuck. Back around the corner he goes and then returns to me, stopping short of the gate every time. The first time I was unaware of any problems, I thought he was having a moment of confusion as even the best horses will. He nearly smashed me as I lead him through the gate. He was lucky to survive such a dangerous undertaking and galloped madly to join the other two, stomping flies and laughing at him.

The next time I took a lead rope but no treats. It was harder than the first time even. He hesitated, I waited. I encouraged, he offered tiny brave little steps. Finally we reached the gate. Hesitating for an endless moment he held his breath and dove through. I had learned my lesson the first time and was standing well clear. I held him as he attempted to run off and join his so called friends. Long enough to remove the halter, then he was free.

The third, and last time, they are staying in the corral now, I had a halter and treats. I asked for a small step forward then rewarded. Once more and a reward. I worry that this is what they call poisoning the reward and ask for another small step. At the gate I open another small gate that doesn’t get us out unfortunately, because he goes right through, and we try the gate from a different angle. He still rushes madly, but he is back in his corral where he can be happy. I reward generously and leave the gate closed. They are welcome the the hot, dry, dirt of the corrals. This time instead of taking off he walks beside me, posing as we go, asking if he looks pretty enough to get more cake? I say no, not because you don’t look pretty enough but because I am out of treats. He stands by the gate I leave though asking me to take him out it too, please.

Yes of course I stop to take pictures of my horse while he begs me to save him.

Rusty was out grazing in the yard. He had been out for a couple of hours and it was Coyotes turn. I had a couple of minutes, kind of. One small child was following me about, the other was pouting in her room. I sat the one in the back of my pickup, safely out of the way. He opened the back window, crawled inside and rampaged throughout the cab. Poor pickup, but it’s the price that must be paid for the privilege of playing with a horse.

It was a quick coverage of the very basics, things he has down, that we’ve been doing forever. A couple of bows on each side, backing from his tail, picking up his feet (he needs trimmed soon), Spanish walk, and walking collected back to the corral. He was happy to be playing again, enthusiastic in all that he offered, and not happy to be put away. Nothing was forgotten, nothing was slow to come. We will be getting back into regular work soon. I hope.

I even managed a bit of a ride on Coyote while putting him away. It was a good horse day.

It’s awful. I have this great new toy but haven’t been able to play with it!
Ok, it only came yesterday (day before yesterday now). I want to play with it so bad! I snuck out while the children were outside playing with their cousins the first night. The bit was so pretty, shiny and new. I got Rusty out and forced it into his mouth. Maybe a slight exaggeration but I did push things a little faster than I ought to have. He’s only worn a bit once since the middle of last summer sometime. He was not interested in having it in his mouth. Although the bit is supposed to be able to be used without a head stall, on a horse who is use to it and to wearing a bit period, it became apparent to me that I should have put it on a headstall before trying it on Rusty. It was not going to stay without help.

I had picked out a headstall to use earlier, after ordering the new bit, so I went up and got it. Put the headstall on the rings of the bit. It was ready. I was ready. Time to try again. And here came the children, done playing, the cousins were leaving, at least one child was crying. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

The next day dawned dreary and overcast. The children were exhausted and cranky. Rusty was mad at me for putting something in his mouth and only wanted to go eat grass. I put it on him and otherwise ignored it. I brushed him thoroughly, picked out his feet, and worked on other stuff. Then the bit came off and he went back to his pen.

The next day rinse wash repeat. He quit being quite so mad about it, but still wasn’t speaking to me. Usually I turn him out to eat grass before I work him. He is so obsessed with grass right now, it’s hard to get him to pay any attention. I thought maybe if he didn’t get grass ahead of time he would be more interested in treats. Didn’t work. He was only interested in picking at the few green weeds along the side of the pen. How can a few measly treats compare to the lush green grass. Then it finally dawned on me. Why fight it? Why not join in? If, when hopefully, I work him today I will pick a large bucket of grass to use as a reward. Duh. Sometimes I amaze myself with how long it takes me to figure things out.

Oh well, so much for getting to try riding in my new bit. There I go rushing things again.

I’ve been riding Rusty in a halter. It works well for us. I want to greatly emphasize that it is working well. He hasn’t run off with me, mostly he stops to a shift of weight and an exhale. He steers light and responsive. Any problems we have are green horse problems coming from lack of experience and lots of enthusiasm. I want to make that clear because few things drive me as crazy as the old “my horse wont stop anymore, I need a harsher bit” thing.

That said I want to start riding him in a bit.

I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted to do for a bit though. I usually ride young horses in my much loved snaffle that my mom gave me way back in high school. It has seen many colts, many miles, it’s a great bit, simple and beautiful. When I first started Rusty we used it. He didn’t like it, Coyote doesn’t either. Some horses are just weird. That is how we came to be in a snaffle. He was at that age where baby teeth are coming out and mouths tend to be uncomfortable. He’s getting older and, maybe, past that now. I put the snaffle on him for a ride and let him carry it without attaching any reins. He was fine with it. But I still wanted to see what else was out there.

I want the bit so we can work on some finer points. We are starting work on side passes, yielding hind quarters and such. I want to be able to gently, slightly, pick up one rein and speak to one side of his mouth. In a halter I have to stretch my arm clear out to the side to give a directional aid. That is a lot of work, slow, and not graceful. And not efficient. I can’t hold steady pressure on one side while turning slightly to the other, it has been bothering me.

I happened to see a comment with a picture of a girl’s horse in a new type of bit I had never seen before. Like the war bridles I had admired for so long, she didn’t have a headstall on her horse. Unlike the war bridles her bit had rings on each side like a snaffle. The bit was leather with a chin strap that held it on when used without a headstall. I was intrigued. I researched a, very, little bit. Mostly asking her how she liked it. She and a friend of her both rode in them and both loved them. We found where they were sold and ordered one. I can’t wait for it to get here so I can try it! Hopefully it works and Rusty likes it. It’s a big expenditure for me, mostly I’ve been riding in the same tack since high school.