Lope Your Wild Ponies, Please Lope

I feel kinda bad for my friend Shelley. She drew a very powerful and reactive mare for the Northwest Extreme Mustang Makeover. Atta Girl showed a lot of promise early on. She was smart and responsive, but Shelley sensed the power this girl had and has been very careful in how she handles her. The mare was coming along nicely and Shelley felt she was ready to climb on. Attie disagreed. Strongly. Thankfully Shelley had the foresight to plunk a cowboy up there for the ride, but Attie was in a blind panic the moment that leg swung over her back.

After a few exchanged emails with myself and another friend who competed in Sacramento with us, Shelley decided Attie needed to step back a bit. She hauled out all sorts of props and began to slowly add them to the saddle so that Attie would become slowly desensitized to seeing things out of the corner of her eyes. Shelley emailed tonight to tell of Attie's explosive reaction.

Attie's fear level reminds me a bit of Sandy, but with one major difference; Attie has the power of a stick of dynomite. Or a case. Either way, this is certainly a challenge for Shelley and I pray that she doesn't feel too discouraged.

Meanwhile, here with Steve Holt! things are progressing. I'm a bit nervous about putting too much time into him during each session. I'm not typically one to work long hours with one horse, but with things so wet here, there's no way I can do two short sessions. Today we spent over 2 hours at the riding club. We did a lot of in hand work such as backing an L, sidepassing, and trotting around cones. This stuff is coming along nicely. I broke it up with a few minutes of lunging now and then...working at keeping it slow, relaxed, and listening for the whoa. Steve Holt! likes to keep his feet moving, so the circles are a nice way for him to relax after the detail work.

Between all this was time to hang out with each other and get scratched all over the face. He still didn't want me to put his halter on today, but while in the arena he dropped his head down low and I was able to rub all over his poll and inside his ears, even. He was definitely relaxing.

By the time I got into the round pen and climbed on, Steve Holt! had been put into a frame of mind that helped him stay calm, cool, and collected. You'll see his head is carried at a nice level while walking and that he's not all too nervous about the trot. Best yet, you'll see Steve Holt! take his first few strides of lope with a rider. I was terribly pleased as his first few times loping on the lungeline found him a bit unbalanced. Since then he's really figured out how to use his body while in a tight space.

To top things off, I decided to spend a couple minutes outside of the round pen. He was a bit unsure how to behave since he didn't have a rail to help hold him together, but managed to figure it out.

Flooding and a Wild Horse Rescue

Talk about frightful weather! The temps have been in the low to mid 40s here, plus raining non stop. This isn't anything out of the norm, but since there's been so much snow, and with the ground is still frozen, there's no place for all the water to go.

I got a call today from the folks who adopted Dun Dee, formerly Duns N Roses, saying they were flooding and needed to get him out of there. I was on the road when I got the call but managed to put in a couple of calls to friends to see if they had a dry place. Cheryle called back shortly after I returned home from my errands to say she'd take him for a few days. Just in the nick of time, too, as you can see from the video.

With all the rain and flooded roads, working Steve Holt! wasn't happening. I'd hoped to get in at least a little arena time, but it wasn't meant to be. Yesterday after his daring escape, I loaded him into the trailer and we spent a couple of hours in the arena going over a lot of things we've already done. I got to thinking that perhaps being the big, sensitive guy he is, that he just needed some time to go back over a few things in a quiet, laid back manner.

We spent time backing up between poles and cones, making sure that we only took two or three steps and then stopping for a lot of loving and relaxing. Steve Holt! got to the point where I could throw the lead over his neck and he would follow my body language as he backed up and even turned the dog leg, barely grazing the pole with his hind feet.

Because of his head issue yesterday, I made sure I spent a great deal of time just rubbing his cheeks, muzzle, and even his forehead and poll when he began to relax. After a bit of time doing in hand work, I led him to the round pen, sent him in a few circles with the goal of staying quiet in between transitions. A lot of whoa, stop, relax, petting, and then sending off again. Eventually, when he stopped trotting out and only wanted to walk, I climbed on. His halter was on beneath his bridle, the lead wrapped around my horn. When I asked for the whoa and didn't get it with the voice, seat and hands, I then asked with the lead rope. Instant success! And then he began to put two and two together. After a few fairly decent whoa's and a couple of relaxing stops, we called it good and came home.

Hopefully tomorrow will be less eventful than the past two days and Steve Holt! and I can have a nice, relaxing workout without any interruptions such as escapes or flooding.

Here's hoping the rest of you are staying drier than we are!

Holes

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I made you a promise last year to share the good, the bad and the ugly. Things got truly ugly when I posted a photo of the enormous bruise Sandy deposited on my hip the day I was thrown. Today is not ugly so much as scary. Very, very scary.

I'd had so much fun working both horses in the arena that yesterday morning I decided to do it again. I loaded up Sandy, then returned to get Steve Holt!. Steve Holt!, however, had other ideas. He's been catching up and haltering so well that it took me by surprise to have him throw his head up in the air and refuse my attempts at getting the halter on. It was though we were back to square one...although he was allowing me inside his circle enough to touch or caress his face, the moment the halter was presented I had a wild horse again.

And as a wild horse would do, Steve Holt! bolted past me to the other end of his run, across the melting ice pack, in an effort to avoid capture. And as a mustang tamer would do, I decided to push him back and forth a couple of times in an effort to make him think about what we'd learned and get his focus back where it belonged...on me and not freedom.

But it was not to be. In one of his passes down the panels, Steve Holt! realized that I had not pushed the panel closed completely when I'd walked in. The direction of his gaze caused me to look in sheer terror towards the opening. Surely it wasn't large enough...surely he wasn't going to...

He did. The panel is attached to his stall at one end by chain, and it sometimes rocks and leans. With him bouncing against it a few minutes earlier, it had rocked, but I hadn't taken notice that created just enough space for him to lift himself through the opening at the other end. But it had, and in slow motion I saw a frightened horse jump through and scoot out into the yard, and back into the trees. Across his back was my long rope, and attached to that the lime green halter that I'd borrowed from Darling. And they, like he, were gone.

City Boy had just come out of the house Seeing my predicament, he ran back inside to grab his boots. I grabbed Sandy and we made our way across the creek. Did I mention the snow is melting? Melting snow means swollen creeks, and the water was splashing over the top of my muck boots. Sandy wasn't all too sure why I was rushing him through the raging, knee deep water, but he followed obediently.

Steve Holt! had dashed through the wood and crossed the creek. Last glimpse I had of him, he was in the neighbor's yard, undoubtedly confused by the excess water and unable to find the trail he and I took the day before, he let out a shrill whinny, a clear distress call. Freedom wasn't so grand now. An answering call came from across the road where another neighbor has two mares. This is where Sandy and I found him, trotting up and down their fence line and looking very relieved to see Sandy coming to get him.

City Boy showed up a moment later. He held onto Sandy while I tried to slip a lead rope around Steve Holt!'s neck. Happy as he was that we were there, he was too excited and aggitated to allow a full capture. "Touch my neck, stroke my muzzle, but don't try to put a rope on me!" I told City Boy to just start home with Sandy. He was doubtful, but I was certain Steve Holt! would leave the mares and follow his friend. And while it wasn't as smooth a return trip as I'd have liked, we did manage to get him home and back into his run.

I guess the open gate is a hole glaringly larger than a whoa, eh? Perhaps I need to work at filling in my holes as well as Steve Holt!'s. I got sloppy and didn't secure the gate behind me, feeling over confident in my horse. Thankfully he returned home safe and sound. Hopefully I've learned my lesson as quickly as my horses learn there's, and won't make this mistake again.