Neo

A couple of months ago, I spent a day in the sun picking up manure and riding horses. I had finally gotten back on Strega after a winter hiatus, rode Drifter in the arena and, despite my exhaustion, decided to finish the afternoon with a short stroll around Shay Meadow on Jake. As we rounded the bend of rocky trail to grassy meadow, we rode upon two people and their horses. The woman was grazing her buckskin paint horse and the man was mounted on a bay.

Courteous greetings were exchanged and when they asked how I was, my response was, "Tired. This is my last ride of the day."

"Do you train?" She asked.

"Not officially." I responded. "This is just my passion."

The conversation progressed to where we realized that we had met before, at Paul Dietz's Big Bear Clinic in 2008, and I recognized the grazing paint, Neo, as the same beautiful 3 year old from that clinic.

Neo in 2008 at age 3

"You're Maggie*, right?" I confirmed, remembering when I met her that she was just 3 months recovered from a horse-related broken arm. She came to Paul's clinic for confidence building and said he helped her tremendously.

She insinuated that they wanted some help with Neo, that there had been some changes in her life. Things were left open-ended, and Jake and I continued down the trail.

With Paul's clinic fast approaching, I've sent out flyers and emails and text messages, I got a response from Maggie asking about the clinic for her new husband and if I could indeed help them with Neo. So this week, we set up a time and they came over yesterday afternoon.

At a towering 17 hands, Neo was nervous, so I got him moving freely in the arena. He didn't appear spooky and was not bothered by the flag sending him in different directions. He was, more or less, distracted but eventually came back to be haltered. He crowded my space and wouldn't back up, was heavy when leading, and he was not interested in flexing laterally. As I spent some time figuring out how responsive (or unresponsive) he was, I was able to get a few things working for me a little better to move on to what was a bigger problem for his owners: saddling.

"He steps away. My ex used to sneak up on him to saddle him."

"Do you tie him?" I asked.

"No. He pulls back."

Hmmm. I thought. "OK, let's start from scratch."

So I decided to get myself in colt starting mindset. I carried my saddle and pad out into the arena and worked at swinging the pad up and off, repeating several times as he occasionally stepped away from me. I reached down, grabbed my saddle and swung it up.

"He never does that!"

"I believe you." I said as I pulled the saddle off. He wildly swung away as the saddle slid from his back. He planted his feet in cement as I asked him to step forward.

"Here's the horse that pulls back." I said. "He does not yield to pressure here. He should step forward."

So I changed gears from saddling to groundwork again, trying to build through pressure and release a horse that will lead properly. While working through this, Maggie gave me a little glimpse into Neo's past from 2008 where he was a colt with a lot of promise to the troubled horse he is today. He'd been to a few different trainers for 30 days here and there, but last year bucked off someone who had just offered to ride him. I'd heard the story previously and tried to keep my opinion to myself (gymkhana without quality, riding with legs draped over the saddle forks, riding in a mechanical hackamore are all observations I've had of this particular person).

I saddled him again, it wasn't perfect, but it was progress and cinched him up while he stood quietly. But then he became unglued and nearly ran me over (thank goodness I built in a smidgen of respect, because he backed off when I threw my hands up in defense). Neo bucked across the arena, flinching and kicking at the saddle strings. When he came back to me, I got back to groundwork again, confused by the saddle issue with an 8 year old horse that's had "professional training". After several passes of stepping hindquarters away and moving the front across to switch directions, I moved back to lateral flexion in a tense neck that couldn't bend without moving the feet.  Neo made me wait for minutes until his feet stopped and he could get soft to the pressure on the leadrope. This was not going to be easy. No wonder they've been having trouble.

Finally, he was in a place where I felt I could get on him. He bridled pretty easily, when asked to lower his giraffe head down to take the bit. I became the best contortionist I could to reach a toe into the stirrup and hopped on my right toe in several circles until Neo stopped his feet. I lifted my body and balanced on my left toe until I felt he was stable enough to swing my right leg over. His mouth gaped and fussed with the bit and he was not light to my hands. Serpentines later, he was moving a little better.

All throughout this process, I could not comprehend what happened to this horse. Maggie told me stories, but there is a massive hole in this horse's foundation and I can't quite put my finger on it. Thankfully in the colt starting video I shot with Paul in 2011, he caught me several times with my boot too far in the stirrup. I remembered and placed it as far out as possible so as not to get caught because when I dismounted, Neo bucked away from me.

There big black hole in his foundation.

They returned again this morning, where a few things were a lot better (including their walk over to my house), and I began to introduce to Neo that picking people up from the fence is another mounting option. I noticed a few vertebrae that seemed to be out of place and asked if they've had his back checked. Maggie said she has a chiropractor and would seek getting an adjustment for him. Understandably, with Neo's height, her small 5'2" frame cannot see that high. I really wanted to revisit mounting from the ground because, naturally, he should be able to do both. Saddling and mounting today was worse than yesterday. While not cinchy, when asked to first move when saddled his body twitched and flinched and he made an odd audible noise before taking a first step. I am no doctor and typically don't think about pain issues with horses that don't like to be saddled, but something is amiss here.

After some groundwork under saddle, I worked at mounting. Maggie shared with me a slicker story that sent a trainer to the hospital. I discovered that he oddly was almost more accepting of me trying to mount from the right than on the left, but his height made that attempt awkward for me so I didn't pursue it. After possibly 10 minutes of bending and releasing, flapping the stirrups, and fake mounting by putting the weight of my hand in the stirrup and hopping on one foot, I was able to climb onto the quietly standing giraffe. I rode him a bit, worked with trying to get him soft on the bit, and approached the fence to visit and build patience in him to let me dismount there. When it finally happened, it was uneventful.

But Neo is on my mind.

What happened to him and how can I help him?

And how can I help his owners, who seem very open minded and care about him, but currently lack the education and experience to help him break through his barriers.

It's hard to not pity a horse that seems to have some dark secrets.

Nothing is quite so destructive as pity, especially self-pity.

No event in life is so terrible that one cannot rise above it. ~ Robin Hobb

In Transition

I have a dozen unfinished blog entries. But my plan is, starting late next month, to blog regularly...as my life will be heading down a different path.

Two weeks ago, my friend Al called and asked if I could take her horse Jack for a month. She had tried to sell him, but the sale fell through and she just didn’t have the time or resources to deal with the problems he had. She bought him about 8 months ago, he was supposedly a dead-broke “beginner” horse, but she had some trouble letting friends ride him. Then when she invited a friend, who is a capable rider, to take him cattle sorting with her, Jack had a major meltdown. Al knew he had issues with being buddy sour, but when the cows came out, he was uncontrollable. They left him tied to the trailer to throw a fit while Al sorted on her horse.

Al decided to give Jack one last chance. Either get a tuneup so he is worth keeping, or get tuned up enough to sell.

I’d ridden Jack twice before…at the Murrieta Equestrian Center and again to shoot a video of him to post for sale. In that short amount of riding time, I discovered he moves off your legs pretty responsively, he can do a 360 degree turn on his hindquarters, and has a slow lumbering lope that feels like he is counter cantering or cross firing. But that afternoon, I was warned that his arena manners were limited to the arena, and if they had left with their horses, he would have another dangerous meltdown.

Jack

 So Saturday, June 22, she trailered him up and I decided to take him sorting that night. Siri joined me with Bandit and we arrived early to ride a bit before sorting started. Jack was very alert to the cattle while tied to the trailer, but his warm up was enjoyable. Since I was unsure how he’d react to the cattle, I informed all the sorters that evening that I couldn’t help gather the cows to move them to the sorting pens. I am glad I remained cautious.

He balled up like a gymkhana horse ready to race speed poles, coiling back and sideways, refusing to bend. I teetered on a thread of popping him up with the reins, working a block and release, and just tried to keep his feet moving in some direction other than up. Once the cows were on their way to the pen, he freed up and cautiously followed, but felt pretty unstable. We watched a few riders sort, then I asked Siri to support me and Jack and we rode into the sorting pens.

Jack flattens his ears when he gets focused on a cow. Pardon the mule ears.

The goal was just to get Jack to get the feeling of moving the cattle. He was uncertain, but Siri and Bandit rode alongside us and helped encourage him to move forward. We used our two minutes to transfer the herd from the east pen to the west pen. We repeated this several turns, and when we exited the pens, Jack was pretty attached to Bandit and went back into gymkhana mode when Siri rode across the arena. I worked at bending him in serpentines until he would relax somewhat and give him a release. The fourth time in the pens, Jack sorted a cow…then another…then another, while Siri and Bandit blocked the gate. The fifth time, we were sorting as a team, switching of as gate and sort horse and Jack seemed to get the hang of it.

Good boy!

I suggested to Siri that we make Jack a winner and not separate him from Bandit that evening. Dealing with the buddy-sourness could be done later. We loaded up and headed home. I suggested to Siri that it would reduce stress for Bandit, who was going to his new home at Siri’s house that night, if we unloaded them, and let them settle, then load Bandit again to take him to her house. Siri unloaded Bandit and began to head to the barn. Jack was looking over the divider of the trailer and when I went to untie him he impatiently  raced backwards to exit the trailer to be with Bandit. When he hit the end of the leadrope, he went into fight mode, thrashing with his hind feet out of the trailer. I watched silently and fearfully as he fought the pressure on the halter as he thrashed between the closed left door and the right wall of the trailer, thankful that the left door was closed to provide me with a safe place to stand without being beheaded.

As soon as it started it was over and Jack stepped back into the trailer for me to help him. I worked the tightly wound slipknot loose and backed him out of the trailer. Travis told me his hind legs were underneath the trailer at one point.

Noted. He is reeeeeally buddy sour.

So Sunday, I decided I needed to face that problem. One that I have had experience working through personally on Jake (my homework assignment coming home from Buck's 2009 clinic was how to completely rid your horse of buddy sourness), but was able to witness Buck work his young horse Gidget through it in 2011. It was a perfect display of patience and it worked.

So Sunday, I asked Jack to leave my arena, which is attached to my corrals housing Jake and Drifter. As they called, his anxiety increased and he wanted to turn back. I let him return to the arena where I worked him at the trot and lope, letting him choose to stay or leave. When he decided to leave, I let him walk quietly. When he wanted to return, I picked up the pace and let him be near Jake and Drifter as long as he was moving and busy. I made a couple of passes around my house, where he could not see Jake and Drifter, but could hear them. And we repeated the process of stay or leave, Jack's choice, but staying was going to be more difficult. After about a half hour of this, he decided we could walk off the property on the far side of my house, where he could hear my horses, but was ok with leaving. We rode down the street and returned after about 10 minutes and before he could change his mind and get upset.

Jack's choice was eventually to head down the road. (I know I said I would quit taking pictures while riding...oops)

I let him soak on his success on Monday, but got him back out on Tuesday to try again. This time, he only wanted to return once and then was ready to go for a ride. We went out on the lakebed and walked, trotted, and lumberingly loped.

The beautiful lakebed, with miles of area to lope.

Wednesday, I decided to try cows again with Jack and trailered him alone to the arena. He cried in the trailer as we left the house, but he wasn't too bothered when we got to the arena. Still alert at seeing cattle, he let me saddle him and warm up with little trouble. The big difference from his previous sorting night was that he was totally ready to work cows, and did not act like gymkhana horse. He sorted great, got some great blocks, and really seemed to enjoy the job.

Yes, I understand I am a pig farmer for riding him like this.

I anticipate I need to spend a few more sessions on his buddy sourness until that is resolved, but this 15 year old horse can learn a few new tricks.

Anniversary Ride...

In other news, Travis joined me on a horseback ride to celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary. Drifter was a squirrel when we first headed out, but settled once across the lakebed and we rode up to The Eye Of God, which is a quartz rock formation that stands out in the arid forest with its bright white crystals. Travis seemed to enjoy trotting Jake and figuring out whether Jake was trying to pull one over on him by pretending to be exhausted.

We were out for about 3 hours (Travis will add an hour to that estimate) and I planned on washing them off, when he came out and asked how to bathe Jake.

"Just point the hose at him," I said.

I can't tell if they bonded over this experience, but it was worth it! For me, anyway.