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.

Tranquility

On Monday, the drive home felt "different".

Monica & Bullet; Suzanne & Drifter; Buck & Gidget; Kathy & Junior

Buck Brannaman's New River, AZ clinic atmosphere was different from previous years. People were lined up with books, DVDs, and hats to get Buck's autograph. When we might have had 40 spectators before, there were hundreds this year. The spectators were lively and interactive. They applauded for riders who had success with their horses working cows. They cheered when Buck said Facebook was for people who have too much time on their hands and nothing productive to do (...which is kind of funny, because I know some people were "checking in" to Facebook that morning). They laughed when Buck was helping an individual student and would say to the rest of the class "and the rest of you honyockers better be listening". At one point, I was slightly unseated from the saddle when Drifter let out a little kick while working cows. I heard a unanimous gasp from the bleachers, and realized the spectators thought I was going to be a lawn dart. Buck explained to them that Drifter had just realized that he is superior to the cows. (He's at the bottom of the pecking order at home, so he must have felt pretty good. It makes me smile.)

Last year, after Buck's clinic, I cried on the drive home, trying to make sense of what had happened with Junior. I sought answers which were nowhere to be found. I felt mentally lost until a few days later, Mike Thomas told me to "Never let anyone try to convince me that it didn't happen. You will now hear differently and learn faster." It's very clear that it is a big secret.

Mike was right. I heard Buck differently this year. It's almost as if he speaks in a code that only those who know the secret can hear. And you work at it with so much dedication that you might as well be the only one in the arena. And it certainly doesn't make you any better than anyone else...you just work at it. And you think. Those who don't know the secret work freeing up their horses...moving them better...and open themselves up to a different approach. Maybe, just maybe, to make things better for the horses.

  

This year, as we departed New River, Sis was immediately down for a nap in the backseat. We drove in silence for a bit. Exhaustion demanded coffee. A conversation with Hen in the mare motel at Paul's resonated with me. But for miles of stretches, Kathy and I didn't speak. I know where I was, and I assume she was there too.

Reflecting.

"The horse is a mirror to your soul..."

from the documentary Buck

This gift has opened my mind to the mental over physical side of "riding". Like all horses, Drifter is open to it. And because he's so new and I have been working very hard to remain fair with him when I work with him, he is responsive in ways I've never experienced before. When horses are closed to it, it has become clear to me why. And it's not the horse's fault. I don't have answers, but I do have some comprehension. All I can do is keep learning and keep working at it.

 

Buck said he is looking forward to the day that he can teach us what he knows, instead of what he thinks we need to know.

I want to be there.

If you take any activity, any art, any discipline, any skill,
take it and push it as far as it will go, push it beyond
where it has ever been before, push it to the wildest edge of edges,
then you force it into the realm of magic.
-Tom Robbins

Moon over my horsie

I've been sick, but keeping up on suzandtrav.blogspot.com, but had a nice moment to share with my horses this evening.

I try to remain aware of my horsemanship even if I am just going out to feed. Jake and Drifter were out today while I was home with this stupid cold. Hey, I am not used to being sick, so I get a little dramatic about it.

Anyway, the full moon is awaiting tomorrow's eclipse and Drifter decided it was playtime before dinner.

Playtime is fine, but I wanted to ensure that he finished "with me" instead of "with food". So I snapped some shots while he did his thing.

Full moon fever

He sought refuge from Jake, who wanted none of it. I love the next picture because it is quintessential Jake & Drifter. Jake (ears back) clearly irritated by the presence of his kid brother and Drifter (ears forward) obviously oblivious.

Jake, will you at least smile for the camera?

So I sent Drifter off to find the good place to be and when he found me, we were done. Jake knows the drill all too well and keeps close to me or just doesn't move. He just wanted his dinner.

But my cute little palomino is coming along nicely. I know it doesn't seem like much, but every moment with him means something to me. I can't believe he's the same horse that took hours to come to me when I first started working with him in April. Now, it takes minutes.

He is just so willing...