Somehow I never got over my first horse. My horse, like my youth, was wasted on my younger self. She was bombproof, fast, and more sane than any horse I've met since. She had, as they say, "no bad habits."
She even let my dog ride on her. I'd be saddled up and my dog and erstwhile side kick would beg for a ride. Literally beg, sitting on his hind legs, front paws in the air, pleading. One little signal from me and he'd jump up into the saddle and off we'd ride.
Tough little poodle mix. Maybe he was a reincarnated cowboy.
Now I'm back with a horse, and let me tell you, it's suddenly way more complicated. I'm learning how to train with him, how to keep him from FREAKING out, and how to connect with him.
This is by far the most complicated relationship of my life. I'll be keeping a blog of how it's going and how I'm trying to apply natural horsemanship, Google, dozens of books, and more trainers than any one person should talk to, to my little Arab Pinto Gelding, Canyon.
So far he's darn resistent.
No comments:
Post a Comment