Finding the line; riding with my daughter

It's funny how things come to these places where you find you are looking for the lines in two totally different parts of your life.

My last two outings with Cibolo I'd not been feeling like things were quite right. I would come home feeling that I was missing the mark. But I wasn't sure what it was. I was in the round pen and getting so much attitude at the canter I had to bend him and really get on him. And I knew that it got to that point because I missed something smaller much earlier.

But what?

I read something in a horse trainer email I get that said never letting your horse graze. I'd been doing our walk arounds as some quiet time and I thought is that where I've been messing up? I thought again about the conflicting information we get in horsemanship. I know that consistency is essential, but I wondered if hand walking him over to graze was really so horrible. It didn't make sense. Other people I knew and respected would graze their horses, they didn't worry over it, they rode endurance and you let your horse graze because you must. Somehow it didn't "ruin" the horse.

But something was wrong, I knew it.

I wondered what it was. Then Horse and Rider came in the mail, and in it Clinton Anderson talks about not making the mistake of letting your emotions shortchange your horse.

And I got it. Because I was getting what I wanted in the relationship - petting, loving - but in the end I wasn't giving Cibolo what he needed in the relationship the last two days - confidence that comes, it seems, from my show of strength or stern attitude.

So today when I went back out, this time with my daughter, I took a firmer line.

My daughter and I are looking for the line too. She's at the stage where she's venturing away and back, still interested in what I have to say, yet making it clear that this is her time to explore independence. She's young, but her body races ahead, she looks 14 at age 11 and she carries herself older as well. But she still feels like a child inside, and somehow understands the contradiction of this time of her life.

We saddled up together, it's a dream of mine to ride with her, for us to just have fun together, and it becomes something different from what it's been before. We're mother and daughter one moment, friends another, laughing and trying different things with our horses.

Lily needed some firmness, so did Cibolo, and both horses responded to us perfectly after the firm no nonsense tone was set. I felt the relief in them both - these rules they know. Heads dropped, softness in attitude came into place.

We ride around the trails, taking it easy on their shoeless feet, riding only for 45 minutes. We find an open area with little shrubs and play follow the leader, making up patterns between the shrubs, figure 8s and backing exercises.

We did some click and treat targeting back at the barn as fun for both us (we do this with the dogs at home) and the horses, a reward for a fun ride. Lily is quicker than Cibolo, something that amuses and thrills Sierra.

And we were both reluctant for the time to end, for the sun to set, for the dust to rise behind us like a dim wave as we drive home.

Today is a day I want to remember forever and ever.

Unraveling Horse Time Part 2

After thinking long and hard about what I enjoyed back before things unraveled, I had time on Tuesday to go to the barn.

Anxiety was rolling in my stomach. It was windy, it would be close to feeding time, I was tired. But I drove to the barn anyway.

Adam met me there but his back was acting up and he was relieved to hear I wasn't going on a trail ride.

I went to gather Cibolo, who avoided me at the urging of his herd mate Amigo. It wasn't bad though, and in a moment he stopped letting Amigo drive him and waited for me.

We headed straight for the round pen. No saddle. A few quick "hide the butt" on the way which required a sternness reminder to gt him to hop out of the way. To take things seriously. But my energy was very low, very calm.

At the round pen we didn't lunge. He's now dropping his head to the ground with just two pushes (as opposed to the 5 and 6 we were working through before) and by the end, just one signal was working.

We did the things I used to do with Canyon. Worked on focus. Worked on moving away from pressure. He responded well. I didn't have the bit, so I rode tied the lead rope to the halter. Standing rock still by the round pen panel I got on him bareback.

I felt the anxiety in my stomach roll around as I rode we just walked.

Great. Okay. Just ride anyway. Breathe.

I went in circles until I warmed up and relaxed. Then we worked on pulling his nose in. I learned that a low pull on the reins is the signal he understands to pull his nose in (think at thigh level is nose lever, waist is back up lever). I found him trying to decipher my signals and me working to understand his tries. When I kept trying to back him up with the reins too low and he started trying different things, I recognized what was going on.

He was trying.

And when I "got" it, he worked flawlessly.

It was nice. It was simple. I felt like we were communicating. Felt like the respect was working and we were


I read this at Jill place and felt pretty good about my progress.

Then today I met up with Cibolo's previous owner. I told her what happened at Conception and she said:

You need to kick that horse's ass. Do not baby him.

Which sort of brings me full circle and I felt the sadness rise again.

They want a boss. They want you to be firm with them.
If he pulls that on you, you pull his face off.

(she was speaking metaphorically, of course. I think.)

He knows better. There's no excuse.

Am I up to being a horse owner? Do I have the nature to kick a horse's ass with great regularity?

The latter - no. As to the former...


Sigh. I was feeling like maybe I could. Now I just don't know.

Unraveling Horse Time

Sometimes when things unravel you find that there is nothing there.

Other times you find what you've been looking for, buried in the pulled yarn.

Then there are the times when you stand among the strands, you only begin to realize what it s you are looking for in the first place.

Things unraveled a bit on Saturday during a very lovely trail ride. There's an absolutely gorgeous trail over streams and through the woods around our stable that I never knew existed. Adam and I joined a couple who have boarded a bit longer for the ride. They knew the way around so we were pretty excited to check it out.

I took a few pictures, none very good, but here's one:



Cibolo was the youngest horse on the four horse trip and 90% of things went just fine. But I could feel the unraveling in him, just a tiny thread at first. He wanted to dictate where to ride. Wanted to stay up and trot without permission. Tossed a few crow hops. All of which was corrected, of course, but it was tiresome.

Then on our way back he stepped in a hole or something and hopped sideways a few times, a little freaked. It felt like a buck might be coming, but I kept his head up. He was wired after that and at one point I got off because I felt him escalating and knew getting across this one tricky part was not good in his current state. I got off and lead him across.

It was the smartest thing I could have done. When I got back on he was re-engaged, sort of like that let him (and me) chill for a second and catch our breath. Did another crow hop or two a mile later, and at that point I was just irritated. We rode back to the barn and I put him up.

Then we came home and I ate asadero and french bread. I have a pretty strict diet with no cheese and no bread at all. So this was some serious comfort food for me. I could write poetry about asadero, but I'll spare you (I blame Licon Dairy in San Elizario for my addiction. They make the best asadero in the universe).



When we went back on Sunday, Adam rode him and Sierra rode Lily. I hung out with Mireya since our pony trip fell through. (I want to take her to meet ponies, she was very excited, but the place I planned on going to is having some sort of "family issues")

I had no desire to see my horse, let alone ride. I observed Lily had started to give me attitude too (which I solved by pushing back a bit). Adam had cantered on Cibolo - something I've only been able to do a few times. All I wanted to do was go home.



I woke up in the middle of the night Monday, just lost. This is still no fun, hasn't been since Conception. I couldn't sleep for hours. I felt the anxiety that I had when I even contemplated the barn, riding.

I thought back, remembered with Canyon how I loved just going to the stables and working in the round pen.

I'd spend hours alone with him in the round pen, doing very simple things. I could trot and canter bareback. I wasn't afraid to canter on him in an arena or in the round pen, his issues always were related to other horses or horse eating animals in the woods (of which there were many).

I loved being alone with my horse. I came home relaxed and willing to give everything (as is required of a working mom) to everyone else.

Now I was coming home discouraged, angry, and tired. Instead of a break, this horse time has been more of an additional burden, another insistent chore that is never, ever done.

And honestly Cibolo's issues are minor.

But mine aren't. I may be regaining respect, but something inside is unraveled, and I wasn't even sure what it revealed. But my horses could see it. Because horses don't do white lies and half truths. They are always honest in their assessment and my pushy behavior wasn't really resolving the real issue.

Truth hurts.

This is getting too long - I'll write more tomorrow about what we did today and why... And visit some blogs. I've missed everybody!