First Time On Cattle

By Neversummer April 24, 2017 Coyote, Rusty 1 Comment

I spent the night psyching myself out. After out last attempt to ride out of our comfort zone did I really want to try it? What if he spooked? What if he ran away with me? What if I undid all the careful training I’ve put into him? The what ifs were driving me crazy.

But it was too late to back out. Well maybe not too late but the arrangements had been made, Tanna was coming over and I had told my husband we would do it. That makes it nearly set in stone. The calves were nearly done calving, over the last week there had only been three calves born that needed to go out. I had originally thought we could put them out and then ride Rusty. Somewhere along the line I decided that I could ride Rusty to put them out. A simple easy little ride. Introduce him to cattle with trusty old Coyote to show the way.
What had I been thinking?

The day dawned sunny and still. Tanna arrived early and my husband took the kids. I girded my loins and saddled my horse. Tanna is very patient with me. She walked Coyote around in our little pen while I rode Rusty around with him, waiting for me to get comfortable. Then we went after the pairs.

I walked. There was one cow in the lane, her calf was sleeping in a little triangle of fence. I led Rusty in and he went after the calf like a dog after a piece of meat. I thought he should be spooking and cowering at it bouncing off the fences and his legs, he thought maybe he should eat it. I remembered then that the father-in-law said he had seen Rusty with a calf the other day. It had slipped through the fence and was laying in the feed bunk on the horses side of the pen. Rusty reached over and picked the calf up by the scruff of its neck. I guess the calf was alright if limping a little when he finally let it go.

I kept walking and letting Rusty check things out as we pushed the pair out the gate. He was very interested in the goings on. Then, finally, I got on. Rusty was overly energetic and excited about what we were up to. But he stayed controllable and calm, overall. Tanna sat back and offered support while she let us try to do the work. Rusty wanted to lunge and pursue them at a trot, I held him back attempting to convince him to walk. What ever the speed he happily followed the cow and calf out the gate. After he succeeded in clearing the corral of cows we headed for the cornstalks to check our heifer.

I stopped for a refill on cookies, then walked through the narrow twisting maze of fences that led to the corn field. This walking is not to be ashamed of. Preventing problems is  not the same as walking as a result of them. Once out in the open I remounted and he was off like a shot. Or maybe a trot. I let him go, Coyote plodding behind. Even at a walk he was zipping along in typical Morgan fashion. We made it clear out across the field, saw that the heifer was not in the process off calving yet and started back. We had been on the horses a long time. Large portions of that time were spent in abject fear, quite exhausting, and my helmet was hurting my forehead. I was ready to get off.

We still had to make it back to the house though. Rusty was starting to act up. Not bad, but he was getting tired too. He fell out to the side with his shoulder. He was scared of the cows in our path. Coyote plodded reassuringly along. I was going to try to ride back through the maze of fence into the corral but cows were coming out and while I could handle one or the other both combined were more than I could handle. I walked the rest of the way. It was good to be off and good to be home. It was a great ride and a great day.

Gate Work

By Neversummer April 23, 2017 Rusty 2 Comments

Plus some other stuff. Mostly going back and fixing what I broke on our last ride.

I took him far beyond his comfort zone on our last ride, this time I went the opposite direction. There is a little pen behind our house, it a converging point of corrals and lanes, a holding place before the final push into the front corral where the loading chutes and head catch are. It is small, but big enough to ride in. An awkward shape, wide on one side narrow on the other. Sharp metal wind break and protruding chunks of cement further reduce its usability as a riding ring.

But for now it was perfect. I wasn’t worried about Rusty bucking me off on the hard cement. I was happy to have fences to confine him while leaving room to trot a circle. He wanted to go away. That same way away that caused so many problems last time. He knew where the grass was and was determined to reach it. There was a fence in the way. He hunched his back and dropped his head, mad that I wouldn’t comply. I sat deep, holding tight to my saddles broad pommel. We made another circle. He wanted his way. I was feeling comfortable in not having died yet. My seat improves drastically once I stop cowering in fear. We worked out the kinks. Not in one clean moment but in a series of questions and deep discussion.

Can you stop when I ask like this I say? I can but only when we are going away from where I want he replies. Will you yield when I squeeze my leg on this side I ask? Whoa, you mean move my shoulder way over here like this he responds? Until we discovered that we did speak the same language. We could find a middle ground where each of us are able to supply input, one persons desires are not law. Yet. And yet. If I ask surely it doesn’t hurt to think about answering politely.

Then we introduced a new question. This is a gate. Can you stand next to it? Will you let me bounce it from your back? Look how fun it can be. All we have to do is stand here, next to the gate, and eat treats. That was easy. Now can you take one step sideways while I hold the gate? One step I said. No, he said, one step is not possible, I must take many. Oh I see, I replied, I am asking too much. Have we worked on side passing at all? Please forgive me, you are so light and responsive, I forget sometimes that you don’t always know what I am asking. And so it goes until I force myself to climb down, scratch his forehead and unsaddle. Relations are repaired and I can’t wait for next time.

There is a video to go with this but it is too long for the blog. It will be up on his facebook page Monday, I hope, when I get into town where there is internet. Check >here< to find it!

Walk Of Shame

By Neversummer April 22, 2017 Coyote, Rusty 2 Comments

It’s not my first time. Years ago when Coyote was still a green youngster I was riding him at a branding. The cows calved down on the river bottom. The branding corrals were up on the bluffs above. We had to push the pairs up narrow trails snaking straight up the steep hill face. They moved as mama and baby calves do, trying to go the opposite direction and pushing back making every step forward a struggle. Coyote couldn’t handle it. He started getting light on the front end. I hopped off. Being a girl surrounded by guys, riding a Morgan in a sea of quarter horses I already stood out like a sore thumb. I felt judged constantly and needed, for my own piece of mind, to do an excellent job at everything I did, yet, here I was, having to get off and walk my horse. If I only had the sense to get a quarter horse like a normal person I wouldn’t have these problems.

It may have been embarrassing but I lived and he turned out, eventually, to be a truly great horse.

Yesterday I took Rusty out into the corn field. In the corrals he can sull up and refuse to move. When we’ve gone out before he frees up and moves out beautifully. Those times we rode out into the corner of the pivot, right behind the yard. Now there are oats planted there. The corn field under the pivot isn’t planted yet, we could ride there, as long as we stayed out of the oats. I walked alongside Rusty down the long driveway until we passed the oats. Then, still on the gravel drive, I climbed on. He didn’t immediately dump me and run home, we were off to a good start.

As I pointed his nose to the distant horizon he pricked his ears forward and started off. he broke into a trot, I asked for a walk. With many repeats we kept that up and all was well until we nearly reached the pivot. Then things changed. His other swirl kicked in, one for each personality of course. He wanted to go home. He was trembling, ducking out with his left shoulder as he threw his nose in the air and fell sideways. I was happy to have a one rein stop. Twice I pulled his head around to hold him long enough for me to jump off.

The first time I did some ground work to calm him and get his attention back to me then I climbed back on. I must admit that the soft dirt of the plowed field was all that gave me the courage to get on. I hoped to have room enough to regain control before we got to the oats, no holes to trip him if he ran off, and soft footing to wear him out enough to help me bring him to a stop if he ran away, and to cushion my fall. Fortunately none of those things happened or were needed. I jumped off again first.

It was a long walk home.

Once we reached the house I got on again in our usual arena. It went a little better, but not good. I pondered training methods and bits. I wondered if clicker training really worked. Maybe I needed to go back to training the “regular” way. Then I was honest with myself. The training methods weren’t the problem, the trainer was the problem. I had done everything the stupid girls in the Disney horse movies I hate so much do. Maybe not everything, I didn’t sneak out at night to ride him. Other than that though I think we had it covered.

I took a horse without sufficient training out into the great wide open trusting that the bond between us would make him do what I wanted and keep him from killing me. Talk about stupid. Sure I didn’t think of it that way but it’s the way I acted. It was lumping at its worst. Taking huge leaps and bounds in his training without preparing him properly. Maybe his trainer will eventually figure out what she’s doing.

Better days

The Reasons We Rescue

By Neversummer April 21, 2017 Coyote 1 Comment

I have so many other things I want to write about, mostly my really bad ride on Rusty yesterday, but my mom sent me a link and I have to share it.

I’ve told Coyote’s story so many times before but I will recap to explain the importance of the link my mom sent. She was at a little horse fair in northern Illinois watching the horse sale they put on. It was the usual run of quarter horses, nothing horribly interesting, not that she had the slightest intention of buying anything. She was only watching because she was there.

Then three young Morgans were run through the ring. The first sold for a good price. My former dressage instructor was there watching to and got excited, bidding on the first price offered. The other a beautiful chocolate with flaxen mane and tail, sold easily. The third was a scrawny ugly little sorrel colt. Not having any intention to buy a horse she watched him sell for a couple hundred dollars. When she realized who had bid on him she was horrified. It was a man we knew mostly by reputation, he would show up at the team pennings we went to and word would spread like wild fire, “that” guy was there lock your trailers and watch your horses. Nobody was ever glad to see him.

She couldn’t stand to see this poor, ugly little Morgan in such bad hands and sent my brother to make an offer. The guy made an immediate profit on his horse and my mom had to figure out what to do with the horse she had unintentionally bought. Fortunately the dressage instructor hauled him home along with the one she had bought. Coyote received a name change, to Coyote, and was sent out to me to start. He quickly outgrew the ugly duckling phase, becoming huge and beautiful, a joy to ride. I couldn’t live without him and never let my mom have him back. That was nearly twenty years ago, he has been well loved, treasured, ever since then.

Had my mom not been at that sale my Coyote could have ended up suffering the same fate as other horses owned by the guy, starved, miss treated and left to die. He was finally picked up for his abuses and is facing charges. There is never punishment enough for these people but something is better than nothing. Animal rescue doesn’t have to involve kill pens or animal shelters and seldom the humane society, instead, so often and so necessary, it is people doing the right thing when they see the need.

Communication

By Neversummer April 19, 2017 Rusty 3 Comments

He’s a high double swirl. I can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into. Complicated, intelligent, and sensitive, instead of being warned off I decided he was my kind of man.

This ride was a bad idea from the beginning. I hadn’t touched him in weeks, I had hardly seen him other than to say hi in passing. Why did I think I should even try? Still here we were. The clouds hung low overhead, not warm but not cold, the wind finally quiet. My sweatshirt left me feeling clammy but I hated to take it off. Next to me he was walking on eggshells already, not the attentive, responsive horse I had last ridden but one who wanted nothing to do with me his only interest in the lush green grass at our feet.

In my husbands beautifully worked garden plot we stopped. Surely as long as we stayed out of the part so meticulously marked  he wouldn’t be too mad. It makes such a nice arena and I would appreciate a soft place to land. After a brief, absentminded warm up I climbed on. It was a new place, a different mounting routine, I was doing everything out of order and  backwards.

Rusty was concerned. His tippy ears were flicked back, straining to catch my every move. His neck tight, jaw tense. Trying to remember to breath, deep long breaths, I thought calm into the back of his head. Trying to ignore my nerves I breathed out my fear and let my muscles relax. With a squeeze and a cluck and a firm “walk up” I urged him on. Remembering his lessons he moved forward. Immediately I clicked and fed him his cookie. He slammed on the brakes to take it. We fluttered about our makeshift arena like a butterfly or perhaps the unicorn his delicately tufted fetlocks proclaim him to be. No straight lines or clear circles, just a question and his flittery response so light and quick. Until it wasn’t.

He was done and he was leaving. No running, just a simple refusal. He was going and there was no turning him so there we sat, him unwilling to go back as I sat and tried to think what I could give him so we could both win. I want him to have opinions, a mind of his own. I hope he will be like Coyote, a thinker, strong willed, a partner instead of a servant. Then I think of all the trouble that causes and wonder why.

So we went. He wants to go, out and about, a big country horse who can’t stand fences closing him in. I knew what he wanted but his small leaps of enthusiasm discourage me from giving the freedom he craves. I had meant to go out through the corn field today, hurry and make use of it before they plant. We should have gone, my caution gets in the way. I fear what the excess of enthusiasm could lead to, not that there is a mean bone in his body. Rusty would never purposely hurt anyone.

Instead we wandered around the yard, a delicate balance of wills. Holding tight while he demanded his direction then asking diplomatically for a concession. We circle to the right, always hard for him, his nose tips in as his shoulder drifts off in a different direction completely. But we are moving and to the right.Should I ask for more? What aids do I give without a bit? I hesitate only briefly wondering about technicalities, then tighten the outside rein and tighten my calf. A light aid on a green horse but he straightens and gives a step on the circle. For a moment in time we think as one connected by through my seat, his back. I click and the moment is gone as he stops to receive his treat.

Finding a good spot I exhale, breathing out a soft whoa. With a flick of an ear he stops. Feeding one last cookie I slide off. Against all odds and good sense we rode. Searching through the differences of opinion and our fears we found a place in the middle where we could both agree. A place where we could communicate.

Ode To A Horse That’s Good On Gates

By Neversummer April 17, 2017 Coyote 1 Comment

Not like gates in a trail class but real life, nearly impossible to open gates.

My good gelding waits patiently beneath me. Each breath an exhaled judgment. He lets me know exactly how he feels about me, about my riding skill, about this task I’m asking him to undertake. Yet still he stands, waiting. Not patiently, impatiently but still and quiet. I lean down, stretching and balancing carefully to reach the gate on level with my foot. The chain is wrapped down and around, as I uncoil it my attention is split between it and my seat out of my saddle. The cinch is loose, like usual, and keeping the saddle from sliding under his belly while reaching down below his belly is an interesting trick.

Chain undone I sit back up, it’s time for the real work to start. The hinges sag, the heavy gate sits on the ground sinking into the mud. The balancing trick comes into play again. I shift my weight into the far stirrup and heft up on the gate. Once cleared of the mud I tighten my left calf muscle. Beneath me he sighs as his hoof slurps free of the sucking mud and he takes one step to the side. And one step only. I set the gate down, re-balance, re-position , and regather my strength for another lug on the gate. At what point I wonder would it simply be easier to get off and just open the dang gate? I’ve already mounted and dismounted so many times, covering my boots and stirrups in mud, straining his back stepping up from the ground and run out of cookies to offer as a token of my thanks for sticking with me to do this job. I can hardly stand to do it one more time. Surely this gate will open with one more try.

And it does, not after one more try but a few. A few more single steps to the side, a few more light touches of my calf before it reaches a point where it swings easily along with his seamless side pass. If he had thumbs he could open the gates himself, he’s done this enough times. Given the right latch he can and has opened many gates by himself. Freeing his pasture mates to find the greener grass beckoning out there. For now I rub his neck apologizing for the lack of cookies when he turns to look, demanding and expectant. His disdain is visible for all to see as he turns back to his job, our job. I would think he hates me, cattle, everything about this life if I were to judge by the glint in his eye and the disdainful wrinkle of his nostril, he lets me know that I am beneath him.

Then we spot the cow and her calf. We are a team, flowing smoothly together, thoughts spoken through each shift of weight in the saddle. Ears back he sweeps in behind the pair, unerringly working them towards the gate. This is why he lets me catch him, why he tolerates my lowly presence, why I put his big cow eating bit on instead of our usual halter when we are working. Teeth bared, nose pushing, front legs shoving, he moves the calf along behind its mother. I offer occasional suggestions, a light squeeze with a calf, picking up the reins when he gets too… enthusiastic in his encouragement. Placing my hand at the base of his neck I pick up the reins and pull him off as the pair goes through the gate. We’re done now I whisper, easy there, we’re done, and I turn him back away to look for his next target.

Turns And Yielding

By Neversummer April 2, 2017 Coyote, Rusty 1 Comment

I rode Rusty! Again. It’s becoming a habit.

We stayed in the driveway this time. My husband left as I got on to go to town where there is better internet to work on his phone so he was going to be completely unavailable. Fortunately my brother was by his phone. So after a brief conversation with him we did our warm up, Spanish walk and bows, then got on.

He was feeling a little.. pent up maybe?

He didn’t really do anything bad. He was wobbly, not like falling down but weaving in his circles. I tried serpentines. He couldn’t walk it, kept breaking into a trot then couldn’t make the turns. We did work on turns and leg yields. He did both beautifully. I wanted to come in and write about it right away so I didn’t forget. Unfortunately I have forgotten what I wanted to say. I have a video hopefully it’s good and I can shorten it and get it up. Probably on Facebook, even shortened it will probably be too long for the blog.

I’m sure it wont look as cool as it felt anyway.

Ignoble Dismount

By Neversummer April 2, 2017 Coyote No Comments

We have been making a habit of sorting out the pairs on Fridays. Tanna comes over and we spend most of the day horseback. Sometimes we even have enough energy to work with Rusty afterwards, not very often though. Today was different. Today her brother was going to a branding with his horse and would have the trailer on. She was able to convince him to bring her horse over. Then he decided to come play too!

With Tanna riding her horse that left Princess Onna free for The Goblin Child to ride. I bundled her up toasty warm, long underwear, scarf, hat under her helmet. Last time she got cold and wanted to go ride in the payloader with her father. Last time she was riding double with me on Coyote, I must admit it was easier without her help as much as we enjoyed it.

Tanna’s horse is Jerry. Jerry was my mare that I showed on a decade ago this year, time does fly. It was nice to see her again. She and Tanna are doing very well together. Her brothers horse is a big young quarter horse. A sorrel to match the other two, Coyote and Jerry. We were all nicely matched, he is a flaxen even, except Princess Onna of course.

The Goblin Child and Princess Onna did very well together. T.G.C. even enjoyed the trotting we had to do to get around a couple of calves. But soon enough she got cold. Apparently I didn’t bundle her up enough. It wasn’t entirely a bad thing Princess Onna isn’t the funnest horse to pony and combined with the deep mud in places having them along mad life a little difficult. It was great the she got to come as long as she did though.

There were quite a few calves born over the last week and with all of us out there we made quick work of them. My cow hating husband was working mostly on foot as his dad rode around on the four-wheeler with 8 in front. I would wave at 8 as he went by and, from his position laying down on the gas tank, he would grin back at me.

There are lots of gates. Lots and lots of gates. They would be more convenient for me with horse friendly latches. This is a four-wheeler outfit though and being handy for me would mean unhandy for those guys on their four-wheelers. Opening and closing these gates from a horse requires leaning way down off the side and spending lots of time fiddling with chains run down around or over.

I should mention that my cinch is never tight. Coyote and I consider touching his stomach to be tight enough, and that’s at the start of the ride. I lent him to a guy once, and only once, who threw his saddle on and yanked the cinch tight. In protest Coyote threw himself to the ground. He is clear in expressing his opinions.

I was heading back to the others and pulled the gate closed behind us. It latched in a corner, requiring a horse to curve into the corner to reach. I leaned over and stretched. Despite my constantly loose cinch even corner gates aren’t usually a problem, as long as I pay close attention to balance. I was leaned clear out reaching to wrap the chain around another gate and I felt my saddle shift. I pushed back but it was too late. I was up against the fence so I just grabbed hold, no problem. I hooked an arm over the guard rail and hung on. It dug into my side a little, hurting just a bit. I rearranged and pulled my feet out of the stirrups. Or tried. My mud boot was well wedged. Not stuck hard but I was right up against him and didn’t have room to pull if it didn’t slide out easy. I finally wriggled around enough to get both feet on the ground and keep my saddle from ending up clear under his belly.

Now my saddle was well stuck on his side. I glanced up once in a while to see if everyone was watching my fiasco. They appeared to be busy. The cinch wasn’t tight enough to hold the saddle on but was to tight to let me pull it back up. I yanked and tugged then went around to the other side and repeated. He wanted back to the others and was done standing still. As he circled I tried to loosen my cinch without letting it fall into the deep mud. I pulled then went around and pushed, finally it rolled back to the top. I snugged the cinch up, a little and climbed on.

I thought no more about it until afternoon as I rested during the kids naps. My side hurt. I ignored it but it kept getting sorer. I asked my not horse person husband if there was a bruise there or something? He was horrified, there was definitely a bruise. A big one. As not a horse person he can never understand why I love something that causes pain more often than not. I was rather impressed that my brief moment of hanging on the guard rail, apparently the sharp edge of it left such a beautiful purple bruise.

It was a good day though we got most of the calves out and put Tanna’s brother to good use. It didn’t even rain on us!

 

 

Identifying Smells What?

By Neversummer March 31, 2017 Clicker training 1 Comment

My brother wants to know what in the world I’m talking about with this whole scent training thing. Or, at least, that’s what I’m assuming he meant, his comment take a little interpretation sometimes. Maybe I should explain it better. Sometimes I know what I’m talking about so it’s perfectly clear to me but no one else has a clue.

I want to teach Rusty to follow/find scent. Like a bloodhound, or like I think a bloodhound does. I know NOTHING about this, that has never stopped me before. This really is a thing. There are many reasons horses excelle at this, possible better than dogs in a few ways. These are the reasons I have heard, not things I know personally to be fact. If anyone knows otherwise, please correct me.

People can ride horses, that’s a fairly big one. Although I’m sure a person could ride a horse and follow a dog? More country can be covered riding than walking. A horse can raise and lower its head from ground level to around seven foot in the air plus side to side allowing for better coverage looking for scent. Also being mounted puts a person up higher for a better vantage point. Riding a horse lets the horse carry us safely in conditions that leave people unable to see, like at night. Or from personal experience, in a blizzard. When a horse gets hot it breaths through its nose. When a dog gets hot it pants instead of breathing through its nose loosing some smelling ability.

I must admit I have hopes that Rusty can find my children for me as they get older and can wander our rather large farm yard alone.

There is an association, The American Equine Scenting Association, to be exact, that promotes this and offers clinics. There is a how to book, two actually. I guess I’m going to have to get them. I have gotten lots of great advice from the clicker training community though. It is such a great group of people who are happy to share their knowledge. Not just in horse training but in the other areas they use clicker training too. I’m a member of the awesome and always informative Horse Tricks Academy. Although this is not technically a trick, not that type at least, when I asked for tips another member who trains dogs was kind enough to offer advice. We have a good place to start even without the book. I tend to like doing things that way!

It Rained

By Neversummer March 30, 2017 Clicker training, Rusty 1 Comment

Usually, and in this case, that makes everybody very happy. And it does make me happy, we need the moisture. It has been a pretty dry winter. The snow blew off the fields and pastures collecting in deep drifts that only did a few places any good.

It really didn’t do the footing in my “big arena” any good though. The soft deep dirt is now a muddy mess. Much better for the arena’s real purpose as a field, not as good for riding a green colt out in. Not to mention that the cold wet weather hasn’t allowed another chance to ride. Much less head out into the big wide open with him.

The rain and warm weather has also brought lots of green grass starting to grow. It causes a major distraction in our training. I have just started to work hard on identifying and finding smells and now all he wants to do is eat. I try to let him out for some grazing time before we work but the timing can be difficult. And he never seems to get his appetite satisfied. Spring grass is hard to resist after a winter of hay.

When I can get him to concentrate he is doing a pretty good job. I think.