Goodbyes

They're difficult, no matter the situation. Goodbyes, that is. This weekend some friends of ours made the drive up here to pick up Lefty. This is difficult. City Boy has bonded. I have not. Oh...I may have if I didn't still have his hoof prints on my body. He is, after all, a real snuggle bunny when he wants to be.

Speaking to one of the wranglers at the corrals, she suggested that perhaps it was time to go cowboy with this boy and lay him down. I know...you were scared at going cowboy, weren't you? Lefty needs to know who's boss. But I've not laid a horse down before and not sure I can get this monster in a black and white wrapper to cooperate as my first victim.

Enter Feral Redeye, who has wanted Lefty from the beginning. We have no clue if Lefty will ever come around and make a solid horse for City Boy, or be a horse that I can trust, but Feral wants to see what he can accomplish. And if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out.

So Lefty climbed into the same horse trailer that originally hauled him away from the corrals, and went back to the small farm in Oregon from which Darling and I picked him up several months ago in hopes of learning some life lessons.

And the first thing that happened when he got there? Kicked Robbie, the drafty lead mare, and caused her to be three legged for a solid 30 minutes. Tika still has a knot on her leg, just below her hock, where he did the same thing when turned out with her. Hopefully Robbie will put him in his place, but I sure hope she doesn't get hurt in the process!

A New Day, A New Ride

"Get your mare out and lunge the @%$ out of her today," came the directions from the old cowboy. Didn't need to tell me that!

We began in the arena where the sand is nice and deep. Helps wear them down just a bit, working in that sand. Heck, it wears me down trying to walk across it! I only spent about five minutes there, though, before heading to the round pen where I could work her in the smaller space. Easier to get her to lope when she has that wall, too. In the arena she doesn't quite make a full circle before trying to fade away to the outside, or dropping back into a trot. So the initial freshness gets worked in the sand so that hopefully she's thinking when we get to the round pen.

Today she didn't really feel like thinking, I guess, and chose to fly like a young colt in circles around me. Well, it was her choice, so I just kept her going a bit longer than maybe she'd have wanted to go on her own. Small circles also wear a horse down because they need to use their bodies more than in a larger circle. Once Tika decided that she'd rather trot than hand gallop tight circles, I began to ask her for stops and turns from the center of the round pen.

It was another five minutes before Curt showed up, and by now Tika was warmed up...literally. The sweat was working through that long coat of hers and was beginning to drip from locks of hair.

As Curt entered the round pen, Tika backed up. He took the rope and asked her to step up to him, but instead she lifted her head and backed away like a rope horse dragging a calf to the fire. A treat appeared, however, in the old cowboy's hand, and Tika decided that maybe she'd be friends again.

I mounted up and Curt led us a few feet forward, then walked to Tika's face and unsnapped the rope, asking her if she was going to be a good girl today and not give me a ride like she had the previous day. He rubbed her face and offered another treat, and then I asked her to move to the rail.

There was a slight edginess, but I don't know if it was her or me to be honest. Or perhaps a little of each? A couple of circles at the walk and Curt asked me to come towards him, and another treat appeared. We reversed, walked, trotted a couple of circles, stopped for a treat, then reversed again. Three or four treats later, and the treats were gone. By then Tika was looking at Curt each time we turned to see if he had something for her, and her reluctance toward him had disappeared.

I wasn't on more than ten minutes, I don't think. Perhaps not even that long. We only walked and trotted, and when she tried to pick up the pace at the trot Curt asked me to check her a bit, so I did, and she didn't worry about feeling the bit in her mouth, just responded by slowing down a wee bit.

Tika was delighted to have the saddle pulled from her dripping body once we were back in the arena, and the moment my back was turned she dropped down into the arena sand for a good bath. I think this is the equivalent to a bubble bath for me. She sure does enjoy the deep sand, as you can tell from her after bath photos!

"Ride Her! Ride Her!"

There are just some days you're kinda glad there wasn't a video camera around, you know? Today was one of those days. I'd actually considered handing the old cowboy my camera, since yesterday's ride had gone so smoothly, but something stopped me. He probably wouldn't want to be hanging onto that while helping me, anyway.

As it turns out, he may have dumped it in the dirt, and Tika may likely have stomped it on her way across the round pen. Because today Tika did what I was afraid Tika might do. She hit the panic button.

"Ride her! Ride her!"

"Whoa!" (me)

"Whoa!" (Cowboy)

Do you know how long an 8 second ride is? Me either. No one clocked us. Not that she bucked, because Tika doesn't do that (much.) She simply dashed as quickly as she could, looking for a way out of whatever mess she suddenly thought she was in.

Curt had showed up at the round pen far sooner than usual. Typically I had ten minutes to lunge Tika and get the jitters out of her. But the last couple of rides we only worked half that time, and yesterday was such a good day. So relaxed, just walking and trotting, head lower and no real speed. We opted not to lope since she was listening and so quiet. So when Curt showed up and said, "She'll be okay,", I went ahead and climbed on.

And she was okay, really...except Curt was holding a coffee cup in his hand, and she didn't like him walking up to her with it because it was different than usual. He hid it behind his back and stood alongside her as I mounted, and it was business as usual. Then Curt did something totally foreign to Tika, and he stood off to the side along the wall so that we had room to do a few figure 8s.

Tika was unsure. He wasn't where he was supposed to be, and again with the cup! What was up with the cup? She didn't know, and she didn't care. I got a couple of circles in when something sparked in her mind, and we were off to the races where I could hear Curt's voice hollering at me over the sudden drumming of hoofbeats on the round pen floor.

I kept my hands low, grabbing that glorious mane, in an attempt not to snatch at her mouth and make things worse. She darted quickly around the pen in a mad dash, and at one point I wondered if she bucked, but I think it was more of a bounce, the kind you'd see a frisky lamb or bounding deer do. All four legs like pogo sticks, elevating the body upward. She did that only once, and at some point Curt had managed to get off the rail and was again in the center of the round pen, stepping in front of her in an effort to stop or turn her.

She elected to turn. At least twice, maybe three times. Turn and burn, dash 38' to the other side, slam on the brakes, turn and burn again. I tried to keep my body loose, but each time she stopped, I felt myself moving forward like a crash test dummy. Both Curt and I hollered whoa a couple of times, and eventually the ride came to an end, with Tika heaving and wondering what the heck had happened. I'd love to be able to tell her, but I really don't know. And the cowboy just figures it was the coffee cup, "She notices everything."

Once the fun was over, we went back to walking and trotting and getting her mind back into some sort of order. When she relaxed, we called it good. And here I was just thinking she may be ready to come home. Not sure about that now!