A good day for groundwork.

A Tom Dorrance quote popped up on Facebook this morning. I read the words before coffee, before getting out of bed, before my eyes were really open.

"It's when a person rushes a horse's progress that people are inclined to make comments about that horse being what they'd call, 'a problem'."

This quote really made me think.

EQUU8's little trial horse, Malibu, is not afraid of much, but she is very easily distracted and is quite opinionated —in a negative sort of way — about picking up a trot. She'd much rather walk on her own terms and be allowed to look at the scenery. Her big goals for becoming an EQUU8 horse are getting soft, straight, and willing to move through walk/trot transitions. She has already exhibited complete acceptance and curiosity of all kinds of therapeutic riding equipment.

In the two weeks she's been at EQUU8, she's been exposed to groundwork and leading. She's been ridden three times, with the first two walk-only rides emphasizing softness and moving off leg pressure...which involved lots of one rein-stops. She was more spritely in her third ride, so deep ribbon candy serpentines were utilized, giving me lots of time to practice lifting a foot with the reins. It was during that ride that she offered to trot with little resistance (after maybe three walking strides) and maintained a fairly good attitude about it.

Which brings us to today. After a good groundwork session with an elusive pony and a nice ride with Kathy and Sis, I returned home to a setting sun and Malibu.

When being ridden, she's heavy on the bit and resists left flexions and moving off a left leg. But to be completely honest with myself, I'm aware that she's also heavy from the ground, so today was a good day for groundwork rather than pushing her to progress from the saddle.

A few key points of focus for today were getting her to follow a feel through the change of directions by tipping her nose, moving her hindquarters and then her frontquarters with a drape in the leadrope. In order for this to get pretty reliable, my focus was placed on releasing when she moved her feet. After some progress in the halter, I released her to move freely around the arena ended up directing her with the flag. By the end of the groundwork session, there was a change in her attitude and attention. Looking forward to carrying it back into the saddle.

Balance.

Horsemanship.

This is the path that led to my healing. The turning point that changed my life.

I am who I am today because of it.

So that brings us to the fun story of yesterday.

One of my teachers once quipped, "bareback riding is for children and porn stars."

Well, dangit, there's a child still inside my heart and I used to ride my old arab bareback all over the hills of Murrieta when I was a teen.

So yesterday, I rode in the shadow of mockery and found that it is sometimes utterly worth it to hop on my horse in his leather (bosal) hackamore, and dink around riding without a saddle.

In riding Drifter around cones placed in close proximity to one another (maybe 3 or 4 feet), I found an exercise that will be fun to try to accomplish with a little more feel, timing, and balance.

While carrying a soft feel, with accurate flexion,
can you jog a tight circle around the cones in both directions? 

If you can, then can you change directions 

through the cones while maintaining a jog? 

I couldn't do it. Not today. But I'm going to keep trying and plan to slow down first and get an arc going to the left. Drifter is slightly straight or even bent to the right while making a left circle. His ribcage bulges left. The good news is, the right arc feels nice and it will tighten up to make the turn before the change of directions.

Balance. I am currently lacking. But awareness is a good start.

And the herd gets bigger

The incredible, incomparable Bob

EQUU8's beloved 38-year-old therapy horse Bob is recovering from yet another proud-flesh-infested sore. As much as we all are hoping and praying that Bob will live another 38 years, his semi-retirement is precious and we cannot take his generosity for granted. So Scotty will be heading down to Murrieta to fill in for Bob, which might be better for him this winter with the forecasted killer El Niño season.

Introducing Malibu. She will be on trial for about 90 days, and we are hoping that life as a walk/trot therapeutic riding horse will best suit her needs.

Malibu: EQUU8's new horse on trial

The little rescue transfer has a few stories and a few scars in her short life. She's estimated to be about 6 years old. She's been treated for a tapeworm and has a splint on her front right leg and a scar above her hind right coronet band (potentially from a rope or wire). 

When I rode her last week, she was content to walk on a fairly loose rein and made a big deal when asked to trot. As pressure to accelerate increased, her complaints increased...where I assume most people might have relinquished their requests and she has learned to get her way. However, I slowly built on my request and she finally complied with a cute little crooked trot before quickly requesting that we walk again. 

This is why she has flunked out of being a barrel racer and why she came to us.

On my drive to pick her up, I made a phone call to a city councilman who was less interested about lies in the name of charity and more interested in motivating me on how EQUU8 can get better about getting our message out there, turning that message into donations, and finding alternative ways to make money for our charity.

He's probably right.

Yet I'm sad that the thousands of volunteer teaching hours, thousands of dollars in gas, thousands of dedicated volunteer hours, a dedicated board member who has donated her property, and hundreds of driving hours from one county to the next—all for an incredible group of individuals at EQUU8 Murrieta—doesn't equate to a grant. And it might never. It's hard to hear because that means we might need to make some new business decisions.

I suppose there's something to learn from Malibu. Just because you complain doesn't mean you're going to get your way. And maybe your way isn't the only way.

A Blogger's Journey...A Journal

The writer in me needs to write more. Hennybird is 400 pages into a book about her personal journey through kidney transplants and addiction. "Every Pill Has A Story".

So does every day. 

I'm not sure if anyone comes around here anymore, but my intention is to let my heart empty itself here. It could be a good place for self reflections as an instructor and as a student. The writer in me says I could be prolific. The sloth in me says it will be months before my next blog entry.

This journey with EQUU8 has been challenging to say the least. My inner Pollyanna wishes to share only the good things, while secretly hoping the bad things and near misses disappear in the darkness at the end of each day.

Tuesday was our fourth grant rejection and second rejection from the city of Murrieta. It's not because what EQUU8 is doing isn't worthwhile or worthy of a grant. There was only $40,000 to distribute between charities. $15,000 goes to the food pantry every year. City Council is pretty stuck on keeping monies going to the same charities year after year. Last year, we were too new. This year, we lost to a newer program. It's a very good program. We are all deserving of funding. But stretching the truth really scrambles my brain. 

Maybe EQUU8 is a hard sell. It's not easy to explain how healing horses are (except maybe to our participants who experience this healing), or how to convince city councilmembers that our relatively small program can double or triple in size in the next year and how their grant could help us achieve accreditation and apply for grants elsewhere. But maybe we were meant to stay small a little longer. I've always valued quality over quantity. 

Either way, it's challenging for me to abide by one of my mantras: everything happens for a reason.

Which brings me to the fall of the day. A talented pair of pre-teens take occasional lessons and I'll just call them Bema and Hapa. 

Bema fell off her own horse today while my back was turned. My attention was on Hapa riding Cherry, as my focus was on building confidence with her since she'd been spooked by a runaway horse. Bema has plenty of confidence and has never fallen off, but Tiny took to bucking and by the time I looked over my shoulder, her horse leapt over her body after it hit the sand. I called to Hapa to put Cherry into a one-rein stop as Tiny barreled across the arena.  You just never get over seeing a student fall off a horse. 

Once we'd determined that Bema was OK, other than a sore finger, and Hapa had handled the scary situation with full control over Cherry, we redirected the lesson to a roundpen session, where we were going to get back to the basics with Tiny. He's a pretty broke horse, meaning he gets along pretty well in the bridle and knows his job. However, he's a little rude and disrespectful and doesn't follow much of a feel. Foundation work, it is for these girls. 

As an instructor, each fall leaves a whipmark. This year, I've had a few falls and so have my students...and they never feel good. Most of the time, the falls come from doing too much too fast. A couple of times, reins are too long or the rider forgot the one-rein stop that could have saved them...even though my voice is straining for them to hear me. Sometimes, there are just plain accidents. And sometimes fear takes over. 

Every time, there is something to learn. 

And learning leads to healing.

Starting Over

I've always said Drifter teaches me hard lessons. They've always been valuable lessons (don't use your cell phone when riding a green colt, don't try to pull your socks up inside your boot when sitting on a green colt, don't get too excited and push him too hard or too fast on your first day at the beach).

I am in the middle of learning a hard lesson with his half-brother.

Asking for flexion, unaware he was mentally checked out.

Launchpad!

When reins are too long, one-rein stops are hard to achieve,
especially when you get out of balance.
Buck says more weight needed to be in the left stirrup.

It's been about four months now since I came off Bravo. It was maybe ride 50 or so.

This horse shook me...but thankfully he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway.

I have met, and still know, many people who are dealing with overcoming fear. My fear might not be as paralyzing as someone else's, but it's still filled my head full of doubt. If I am to help others with their fear, I have to deal with my own.

I've gone back to groundwork but have been on him a few times since then, with varying results. Deep, ribbon candy serpentines (timing the rein with the feet) helped on one squirrely ride but, even after decent groundwork, I've often failed in merely successfully stepping into the stirrup without a brace in him...without the tension. He's bucked or bolted out from beneath me several times. In case you were wondering, no, I haven't been the most calm and confident for these interactions.

The only thing I can do is start over and go slow. 

I'm taking my time checking everything out: haltering, grooming, leading, groundwork and saddling. I've roped his feet. I've revisited Paul's videos, asked for Buck's advice (regarding positioning after his horse made a very similar attempt to get away), and asked for Steffi's help with groundwork. And today, I stepped into the stirrup and lifted myself on my left leg...knowing full well I wouldn't be swinging my right leg over his croup.

Whoosh!

He shot out from beneath me, but this time I was prepared and stepped out of the stirrup and disengaged his hindquarters.

Sigh.

Sigh. Bravo replied, and my frustration melted. Its interesting that in all of my lessons, I can't allow my students to be frustrated with their horses...so I can't be frustrated when handling my own.

I rubbed his neck and thanked him for stopping.

My toe went back into the stirrup. I leaned against him and tried to relax myself while waiting for the brace in his neck to soften. When it did, I lifted myself up, counted one second and stepped down to pet him for keeping four feet in the sand. I repeated this process on both sides, sometimes requiring a one-rein stop before putting my foot into the stirrup. And then, he softened, just a little. And I found a good place to end for the day.

Buck Brannaman's 2015 New River Clinic

Over EQUU8's spring break, I sought to further my horsemanship education by attending Buck Brannaman's clinic in New River, AZ...hosted by my teacher, Paul Dietz. This year, two EQUU8 volunteers (Sierra and Hailey) joined me. This was my sixth clinic in New River since 2009, and I believe it was one of the best. The weather was great, if just a tad hot. The participants seemed to really be trying hard to apply Buck's lessons to their horsemanship and Buck was in a good mood, seeming genuinely happy that the participants were present and listening.

Suz & Drifter, Sierra (Junior not pictured), Buck & Arc, Hailey (Quincy not pictured), Paul & Cinco

As with all of the clinics, in the first hour, we listened to Buck's stories. Buck talked about the young snaffle bit horse he was riding and got him working some serpentines and circles. The first few minutes Buck was on Big Swede, the horse scooted out sideways in a nearly identical maneuver that chucked me off the back of Bravo in January. I immediately took note of Buck's balance and how short his reins were. My reins were too long and I didn't have the balance point that Buck had. I tried in vain to one-rein stop to the right, but found the ground instead as Bravo exited left. Buck told me to keep my weight in the left stirrup. "You'll need that right leg to help the hindquarters around, so you don't want your weight there." He added that I need to keep my reins short and very wide, but with my hands forward so contact isn't on the bit unless I bend the horse...until I know the horse is in a better mindframe. Sounds simple enough. (I was thankful for the advice for my post-clinic ride on Bravo, because I needed it and stayed in the saddle.)

Among other lessons Buck focused on this year was "the reach", which was used over the course of the clinic to help my horse wait for me (rather than tossing his head) when working a cow. The 2-part exercise has two positions. Its benefits include teaching a horse to wait (not anticipate), and teaches the rider to be more aware of the feet and positioning.

1. Ask your horse to bend his head around approximately 90-degrees (for this example, to the right). 

• When you reach for the horse's head, slide your hand down the right rein. Bring the rein out and around as your horse bends his head. Your elbow will end up at your side and your right hand in front of the saddle, to the right of the horn.
• Your horse shouldn't move his feet. If he does, wait and go back to step one.
• You want your horse's head and ears level. You want lateral and longitudinal flexion. If his head is uneven, he is unbalanced with too much weight on the outside shoulder. If the poll is too low, there is too much weight on the front end.
• You want to practice this (don't drill on it...get something good and then move on, but keep practicing) until you can "bet your life on it" with your horse light and willing to respond.

2. Ask your horse to reach his right foot out to the right.

• Bring your right elbow back and slide the rein and your hand to where your elbow was in position 1...about six inches away from your hip. 
• You will use the outside supporting left rein gently. A supporting leg can be developed when the horse is reaching properly.
• Your horse should take one step...a good reaching step to the right. Good timing would be for your horse to take the step as you are moving the rein out to position 2.
• You will release as the reaching foot lands. "Hook the rein to the foot...pick the foot up and move it, then set it down."
• If your horse moves forward after the first step, back him up, releasing when he's soft.

Sierra and Junior practicing "The Reach" from position 1...

The Reach position 2

Eventually, you will not need to bend the horse's head as much, but this is a start for developing proper flexion through a turn. I went back to step one with Drifter, teaching him to wait on me.

"You're gonna need this with that horse." Buck said to me, noting that Drifter was trying really hard to be in position on a cow, but he tossed his head and pushed through my reins to do it. I asked if I should move Drifter back to the snaffle bit, but Buck seemed to think I could get it done with where I'm at in the hackamore (bosal hackamore, to clarify). At the end of the four days, I had better awareness of positioning and much more focused horse when things got fast in cow working. Certainly room to grow, but it was much better. 

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

This year, Buck often mentioned "the rectangle" of real estate shared between you and your horse. His message is consistent with all participants from clinic to clinic (hearing the same messages when auditing Del Mar).

We had pretty good seats on a raised patio in Del Mar, sitting us right behind Buck's place in the cow-working rodear. He told participants when their horses were outside their rectangles. Sometimes the horse was ahead of the rider...sometimes they were behind.

I took a quiet moment to ask Buck a question about the rectangle.

"Is the rectancle nose to tail?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." Buck said.

"Is it the whole horse from nose to tail or is the rectangle the horse's four feet?" I tried to specify.

"It's the whole horse." He said. "When you get really good at this, you will be able to keep your horse within inches of your rectangle. Some people's rectangles are feet, or yards, or an entire arena."

My rectangle isn't as big as it used to be...but I remember needing an arena. Thank you for the reminder!

Next chance for continuing education will be Paul Dietz's clinic in July in Big Bear. Until then, I am going to practice reaching.

The Big Bang

I'm working on a report of the Buck Brannaman clinic in New River, but here's a short little story to share about EQUU8's trip to Arizona.

In years past, I've headed home right after the clinic. This year, Hailey and Sierra didn't need to be home Tuesday, so we decided to rest another night before heading home. This turned out to be a good decision.

On Monday, Junior cut his coronet band (the hairline above the hoof) pretty good while getting out of the trailer. He had also been dancing around in the trailer and scuffed his leg, so we were going to be extra cautious for the long haul home. I had picked up some ointment from Mike Bruce for doctoring Junior's coronet band and we wrapped him up for shipping. Soon, we were loaded and ready to head west. It was about 10:45am and the hottest morning of the trip. Hot air balloons peppered the skyline and we said our goodbyes before Paul and Maggie rolled out to go rope some cattle.

We drove to Surprise for fuel and I checked the trailer hitch, tires, and horses, while Sierra and Hailey made a Starbucks run before we made our way out Sun Valley Parkway toward Buckeye. We listened to music, talked about the clinic, teaching lessons, how to write lesson plans, and just general girl talk.

Outside of Quartzite, I decided to make another fuel stop before we hit California gas prices. We took a selfie in front of a giant highway-side American flag and got lunch and snack. I did a quick once over walk around the trailer.

Then it was off to California, where, for the first time ever, they checked our vet papers upon arrival in the state. We cruised outside of Blythe and headed up the slow westbound grade to Cheriaco Summit.

The trailer wobbled.

"Someone's dancing around back there." I said, slightly letting off the accelerator to try to stabilize the trailer.

Fleetwood Mac was playing through the iPod and then BANG!

"(Expletive!)" My heart pounded. "(Lots of expletives!) I hope a horse didn't go down in the trailer! Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod..."

I couldn't see anything in the mirrors so I turned on my hazards and coasted to the narrow shoulder in a painful minute-long deceleration. I didn't brake, but downshifted as the truck slowed. Before we rolled to a stop, Sierra jumped out the passenger side to assess the damage, yelling "It's a tire! It's a tire!"

Relieved, but my body shaking with adrenaline, I watched for traffic before exiting the cab.

The horses were alert, but calm. The trailer had seen better days. Ouch.

Still, it could have been much worse.

I quickly called Kathy to let her know what happened and we got to work. Hailey documented the process as Sierra and I got our hands dirty.

Thankfully, before we left for our trip, Travis reminded me to get the tire iron and some blocks. Kathy and Glenn had a ramp in the trailer tack room. We had everything we needed to get the tire changed, including a fluorescent yellow brush bucket to put behind the trailer to alert drivers of our precarious position on a very narrow shoulder.

No sooner did we get the new tire on and use Sierra's shoelace to tie a loose piece of metal to the trailer did the CHP show up.

"You ladies having fun?" He asked.

"We just got the tire changed." I answered.

"So you're good then?"

Uhhh. I guess. We're just girls. Just girls who survived a blowout, kept control of the trailer, changed a tire, and the horses are safe.

"Yeah. We're good."

GIRL POWER! 

Just another thing EQUU8 represents.

So now we just need to get this thing repaired. We might need some man power for that. :-)

One step at a time.

EQUU8 students have exceeded expectations the past couple of weeks. They cause me to think before I answer a question. They are making eye contact with me and the volunteers. They are laughing from that place deep down in your belly that generates a smile that cannot be made by your face alone. They keep me honest. And some of them, venturing their way toward independence, are exploring their own horsemanship...guided by EQUU8's philosophy.

Some of you may not know about our horsemanship philosophy. I've blogged about how it can change your life, and how sometimes you can get a little lost on your journey. No one is perfect.

Therapeutically, horses can give us limitless gifts and teach life lessons, if only we would pay attention. Others might receive self-confidence, balance, or self-awareness. Others may learn about respect, boundaries, or compassion. And then there are those who are given not just two working legs, but four.

Today, some great changes were revealed in kids who, when they started last fall, expressed discontent for even being around horses. Some hated the smell and the dirt. Some hated their classmates. Others were fearful. Today was lesson 6 and they all demonstrated that they had learned how to lead a horse, walk, stop, get a soft feel, turn left, turn right, and release. As a reward, they all  got to trot for the first time. And they all, sitting next to each other on the top bench of the bleachers, raised their hands when asked if they wanted to continue riding with EQUU8 when the school year was done.

One child today was frozen with fear of getting on a horse he hadn't ridden previously. He was afraid of heights and afraid of his horse taking one step. He was asked to breathe, pet his horse, think of a song, but nothing worked...he wanted down. So we counted to 10 and then dismounted him. We let him sit out for a moment and at the end of the lesson, he wanted to get back on, so he could experience what his classmates experienced...and he, too, trotted.

Just like humans, horses experience anxiety. They learn from from their experiences and (in my opinion) perform better for the release of pressure. We humans know that a lot of pressure can make us angry, irritated, or burn us out. If we are anxious, does pressure help us relax?

Yet pressure is often how people are taught to handle horses, and horses are often expected to be compliant regardless of being ridden by the inexperienced. If they don't perform,  they often face stud chains, harsh bits, spurs, or whips. They get blamed for their reactions to being pulled too hard or forced to do something they don't understand.

At EQUU8, we strive to pay attention to the needs of the horse...as much as the needs of the rider. And that requires training. Lots and lots of training. But I'm notsomuch talking about training the horses...it's the riders, instructors, and volunteers who need training.

I'm going back to Buck's clinic this year and I'm taking two prospective EQUU8 instructors with me.

EQUU8 is teaching me so much. And over 80 miles of white dashes on the highway can't replenish depleted energy and raw emotion at the end of a day.

As for tonight, how do I feel about EQUU8? It's beautiful. Imperfect, but beautiful.

Eek-What?

EQUU8 Horsemanship and Therapeutic Riding was listed on the screens above the council chamber. This is a strangely familiar dream, except this time I was alone.

A couple of hours earlier, lessons were finished and EQUU8’s reliable volunteers Elena and Sarah had loaded saddles and helmets into the bed of my truck. I don’t know if they realize how grateful I am that they do that for me. Each of the volunteers who surround EQUU8 are appreciated for the hours they spend mucking manure, leading horses, sidewalking with riders, and advocating for this young organization.

I tried to pay attention to the other applicants, and nervously texted Alisa and Travis each time my heart begins to pound in anticipation of public speaking without a horse.

“And now for our next grant applicant." The committee chair announced. "Eh-cue-wait...eek-what? 

“Equate!” I smiled.

“I’m sorry I just didn’t know how to pronounce….”

“That’s OK. It’s EQUU8 Horsemanship and Therapeutic Riding. And I can tell you why that's our name.” I began once I reached the podium. After introducing myself to the committee and other applicants, I nervously stammered my way through a five-minute story of EQUU8's short history and what we’ve accomplished in the past year, what we hope to continue to provide, and what we would use the grant funds for. I glanced around the room and tried to observe responses. There were a few smiles and nods, a few astute stares, and a few blank stares. A light on the podium changed from green to yellow to red as my five minutes ran out. The committee asked questions, but I was certain only one question had been knocked out of the park (yes, we're insured). A few faces appeared skeptical as I told them how we planned to use funds. I tried to be concise, but caught myself expressing too much passion for a number-crunching grant committee.

However, I was still optimistic and felt somewhat stronger about the presentation tonight versus my first attempt at applying for a similar grant last October, but had no expectations. I know it can be difficult to receive a grant.

This was last October...practicing accepting rejection at a different city council. 

After all the presentations were completed, we waited for the votes to be tallied. A woman from another charity, who was seated directly in front of me, kindly turned around and we connected. She expressed how animals have helped her and hoped that we would get a grant recommendation by the committee. She showed me a picture of her schnauzer. And she held my hand and thanked EQUU8 for what it's doing for the people we serve.

About a half hour later, the committee returned with their results, displaying it for all in the room to see. I scanned down the list and found EQUU8 with a recommendation for funding! But they were over budget. The committee bantered back and forth, with one committee member speaking up on our behalf...but it wasn't long before EQUU8 was knocked off the list for funding. I don't think I was the only one in the room who was disappointed that the committee decided to fund the city's own $10k application for a pilot program that included beautification projects in area parks. 

Eek...what?! Landscaping is more valuable than helping others find healing through horses?

I handed out flyers for our fundraiser (March 21 at Wiens Family Cellars in Temecula) and tried to stop the tears from welling in my eyes. I just believe in this. I feel it. I know it. It's hard to fight feeling as though others see no value in what EQUU8 is doing. 

The city council has to vote on this one. We are eligible. I'm not ready to give up just yet.