Building a Relationship One Cookie at a Time My horse, Sonny, has been lame on an off all summer. It is a mysterious lameness, presenting with no heat or swelling and after hundreds of dollars in vet and farrier bills we seem to be no closer to resolving the issue. Sonny goes relatively sound in a straight line so he is OK for trail riding but the minute I put him on a circle he limps. Unfortunately this has put a big crimp in my progress toward passing my level 3 freestyle assessment so in order for me to continue making progress toward this goal, 2 Star Parelli instructor, Jane Bartsch, with whom I take a weekly lesson, offered to let me ride her levels horse, Lynn, for my lessons. Lynn, a 15 year old appaloosa mare, has a lot of good points as a lesson horse for me. She has lots of Parelli mileage on her and is well beyond the level 3 skills in her development. She is smaller than Sonny and has a nice rocking horse canter that Sonny lacks. She also has high obedience and I felt quite confident in riding her only six weeks after knee replacement surgery. In fact, the only drawback, from my perspective, was that she was a mare. I think it is important to explain here that I have a bit of prejudice against mares that comes from some early bad experiences. One of my very first horse riding experiences was on a mare owned by a classmate of mine in grade school. The mare was a pig eyed little bay that knew immediately I was a beginner. Almost as soon as my seat hit the saddle, she ran off with me, dumping me on the way back to the barn. Her owner was most apologetic, explaining to me that the mare was “in season”. I broke a wrist in the fall and while it didn’t put me off horses, it did sensitize me to mares and not in a good way. Through the years I’ve had more encounters that were less than pleasant. My first horse, Max, shared a pasture with a mare, who would charge me whenever I came in the field to get him. That was way before I had ever heard of Parelli and I took to carrying a lunge whip when I was around her. At the rescue where I worked, I was bitten several times by the director’s mare, an animal that seemed always to be trying to tell me there was only one head mare at the rescue and it wasn’t me! Maybe they sensed my prejudice as an uneasiness in my approach to them, but it had become clear to me that with mares, my relationship building skills were sorely lacking. So while I was extremely pleased that Jane offered to let me ride Lynn in lessons, I knew from the get go that if I was going to be successful, I would need to work really hard to build a positive relationship with her mare. Like Sonny, Lynn is LBI so at least I knew I had lots of experience working with the LBI horsenality. At our first lesson, Jane had Lynn all saddled and ready to go when I arrived. “You better get some cookies,” Jane said, indicating a bucket of treats inside of the tack room door. “Lynn also likes to be scratched, particularly on her belly and around her teats.” When I approached Lynn and offered her the back of my hand, she didn’t turn her head in my direction but just looked at me out of the side of her eye. I waited for her to sniff my hand before giving her a scratch on the neck and withers. She tolerated me but I could tell she wasn’t really pleased. I fed her a cookie. That resulted in a slight softening of her eye. It wasn’t much but it was something. Jane is always telling me what a beautiful expression Sonny has and after my first lesson with Lynn, I understood why. Sonny is a true LBI. He is argumentative and stubborn and easily bored but he has a sunny personality and when you are playing with him he almost always comes in to you with his ears forward, looking pleased, as if he had just spotted a long lost friend. Lynn on the other hand, reminded me of a crabby, spinster librarian, whose expression of disapproval was sure to silence the most boisterous of library patrons. Coming toward me, her ears weren’t pinned but they were back and the message was clear. You’re not the boss of me! After our first lesson, I decided that if I was going to build a relationship with Lynn, then I would need a strategy. I started carrying horse cookies in the car so that my pockets could be full for every lesson. I came to lessons early, so I could be the one to curry Lynn before she was saddled. I concentrated on finding all of those itchy spots where she loved to be scratched. I started each lesson by warming her up on line and I tried to be really pleased with her. I smiled at her. Remembering that it pays to have a sense of humor with an LBI, I laughed when she was doing something a little bit dominant or defiant. I made sure to let her rest occasionally. I tried never to let her come to me with her ears back. As the weeks went on, Lynn began to respond. She was having trouble maintaining her standoffish attitude when there were so many cookies involved. She actually began looking for a cookie after she had done something particularly difficult or clever. She let me hold her head and pet her muzzle whenever I switched her from halter to bridle. She began to lean into me when I stopped to give her a scratch. Most of the time, when I turned her out after our lesson, she would stand with me for a few moments before walking off to say hello to Jane’s half Arabian gelding with whom she shares a fence line. After one recent lesson I remarked to Jane that I was beginning to think maybe mares weren’t so bad after all! Jane tells me that she thinks I am doing really well in developing my relationship with Lynn, so well in fact, that she offered to let me take Lynn to Carol Coppinger’s upcoming clinic this October in Frederica, Delaware. I’m excited to have the opportunity and I’m looking forward to seeing what Carol thinks of our budding relationship. Horses, like people, are individuals and just like there is something to be learned from each person we meet, each horse also has the potential to provide a lesson if we are only receptive enough to perceive it. But the prejudices we hold cripple us by reducing our receptivity to these potentials in both horses and people. I had some early bad experiences with mares and I had used those experiences to paint all mares with the same message. Mares are difficult. I’ve even often told people that I would never own a mare. And yet this summer’s experiences with Lynn have finally opened my eyes to their potential. If, and I hope it is not the case, I cannot resolve Sonny’s lameness issues, I will need to look for a new horse with which to continue my Parelli journey. This time my search criteria will not exclude mares.

The Value of a Great Instructor I’m a learning junkie. So naturally, when I was introduced four years ago to Parelli Natural Horsemanship, I was attracted to Pat’s principle of never ending self-improvement. In the beginning I watched every video and read every article I could get my hands on and I have been fortunate along this journey to have attended Fast Track at the Parelli Center in Florida and to have taken clinics with such wonderful professionals as 6 Star Master Instructor Carol Coppinger, 5 Star Master Instructor John Barr and his wife 4 Star Senior Instructor Kathy. But lately, as I have been reflecting on my progress, I’ve come to realize that the person who has been most valuable in helping me along the way is my local Parelli professional, 2 Star Junior Instructor Jane Bartsch. Like many fortunate coincidences, Jane came into my life at exactly the right time. I had been introduced to Parelli by the director of the horse rescue where I was volunteering my time and with the help of a set of tapes, I was working my way through the old level one program. While I had lots of chances to practice horse handling with the rescue horses, I was using my own horse, Sonny, a big, easy going LBI paint gelding as my levels horse and he was proving to be a challenging subject for me. I had recently retired from a 28 year career in corporate America, spending much of that time in supervisory positions, and I was used to having people do what I told them to do. I was now working with a clever but stubborn, easily bored, food oriented, argumentative 1200 pound animal who seemed to understand how to press my buttons in a way that no human subordinate ever had. To make matters worse, unlike my previous horse, a RBI who actually seemed happy to see me when I arrived at the barn, Sonny could have cared less whether I was there or not. I was the food lady, good for a treat now and then but generally not all that interesting. There were many times that I wasn’t sure if I should be laughing or crying with frustration. Because I had done a fair amount of organizational development during my corporate days, I prided myself on my ability to self-observe my mental and emotional state and self-correct during interactions. And while I had grown pretty skilled at interpreting non-verbal feedback from my peers and subordinates at work, reading Sonny was another matter altogether after making some early progress with him, I was pretty well stuck. Fortunately this is where Jane entered the picture. I first met Jane when she came to the rescue to do a horse handling demonstration with her levels horse, Lynn. Watching her working in such harmony with her horse was a revelation to me and I sidled over to the fence to ask her some questions. When I found out that Lynn, who was responding to Jane’s slightest suggestions, was also a LBI, I knew immediately that Jane was the perfect person to help me with Sonny. Jane and I are polar opposites in personality, where I am talkative and outgoing, she is more reserved, but we meshed immediately when I began taking a weekly lesson. I had made good progress with Sonny playing the seven games on line but my skills were not at all refined. Rather than providing a lot of up front instruction, Jane observed and then suggested small refinements in technique that led to big improvements in results. In a typical lesson, she would sit on the fence and suggest an exercise. Then she would watch me play with Sonny, suggest a change and watch me play again. Through her suggestions, I began to develop a sense of feel and to get much lighter and more subtle in my communication with Sonny. Slowly my ability to read horse behavior and to communicate through body language improved. I had much less confidence in my skills riding Sonny and Jane was always able to recognize and respect my thresholds. She was really good at walking the fine line between pushing me forward while not sending me so far out into my comfort zone that I became frightened. She helped me recognize how my nervousness was affecting Sonny’s ability to relax, and how to adjust what I was doing to reduce the resultant brace between us. As my skills developed, Jane allowed me to self-direct my lessons. She provided constant encouragement and when I got discouraged, she would remind me how far I both Sonny and I had come in our development. Her support reached me even when I was attending Fast Track. After the first week I was so tired and sore I didn’t think I could continue but Jane’s e-mail pep talks kept me focused on my goals and helped me look past my discomfort. One of Pat Parelli’s keys to success is support. The program has wonderful tools to help students with their development, but there is only so much you can gain from going to the occasional clinic, watching DVD’s and reading articles. In my opinion, the best possible support is a knowledgeable instructor you can see on a regular basis, someone who understands your goals and recognizes your progress, someone who encourages you to test your limits and provides you with instant feedback. This spring I passed level 3 liberty audition with Sonny and I just recently submitted my level 3 on line audition. Jane is now helping me refine my bridleless riding and I hope to submit my level 3 freestyle audition soon. I know that without Jane’s help, I wouldn’t have made it this fare so I want to say publically, “Thank you, Jane Bartsch”. You have certainly proved to me the value of having a great instructor right here in Delaware.

Calm in the Eye of the Storm I’m a take charge kind of person and have always been good in a crisis. I think quickly on my feet, am not afraid to give orders and expect that people will respond appropriately when I do. That being said, I have been known to lose my temper when the people around me are being more hindrance than help and can bark out commands with enough authority to bring most grown men quickly to heel. This tendency has served me well in any number of situations. At the first University of Delaware football game after 9/11, an argument broke out between the Delaware fans sitting in front of me and some fans of the opposing team sitting two rows down. Fueled by too much beer and the tension everyone was feeling, the situation quickly got out of hand and was about to erupt into a fight. I jumped into the fray and pulling myself up to my full 5’6’’hight, grabbed and practically lifted a burly 6 footer off his feet. “We are not doing this. Not today”, I growled. “Now sit down! All of you!” The fans around me came to a complete stop and the fellow who had started the brouhaha dropped his head and mumbled “I’m sorry man. I wasn’t thinking.” Years of working with horses, however, has taught me that what works well with people in a crisis seldom works well with horses. Getting angry and growling will send most horses running, either physical or mentally, for cover and I’ve had to work hard on myself to develop the ability to maintain an inner calm when things around me are going to hell in a hand basket. This was put to the test last week by a horse in our barn named Rafalco. Rafalco, or Ralphie as we all call him, is the one horse at our barn training to be a big time show horse. A chestnut Adonis of a horse, Ralph is a 17.2 hand Hanoverian that reminds me of Linda Parelli’s late horse West Point. Ralph shares a pasture with my horse, Sonny, and I have developed a great fondness for him. Raised mostly by hand after his mother died when he was young, Ralph has a playful disposition and is people oriented. He is always the first horse to greet me when I come into the field and will follow me around like a puppy. Because he is so big (when he puts his head on my chest it covers me from chin to crotch) I have spent some time playing with him at liberty in the field teaching him to respect my space and can get him to back away from me by wagging my finger. But I always carry a cookie for him and never fail to stop and give him a good scratch, so we have developed a pretty good relationship. The last couple of months have been tough ones for Ralph. He was shipped off to the New Bolton Center to have two benign tumors removed from his neck. The tumors were more extensive than were anticipated and although the surgery was a success, the wound opened up after surgery leaving a puckered and unsightly scar along his beautiful neck. Then he came up with a mysterious and difficult to diagnose lameness. Between the operation and the lameness, Ralph has been relegated to stall rest for the past six weeks and the only time he gets out of his stall is if someone hand grazes him while his stall is being cleaned. Because I felt bad that Ralph has been so confined, I had taken to arriving at the barn in the morning just as stalls were being cleaned so I could give him a little break. Despite that fact that he has been stuck in his stall day after day, he’s never tried to break away from me, being much more interested in getting a few mouthfuls of grass. I don’t have a rope halter big enough to fit Ralph’s huge head and I usually grab my 12 foot line before I take him out of his stall but last Tuesday, I was in a bit of a hurry and I just used the line attached to his leather halter. Almost as soon as we were out of the barn, I realized I had made a mistake. The line was very short and also very rough so it was difficult for me to allow Ralph any drift as he was grazing. Rather than drag him back into the barn so that I could retrieve my 12 foot line, I decided to let him graze toward the other end of the barn since Sonny’s stall is by the far door. Unfortunately, just as we rounded the corner, Bree, our barn manager, rounded the other corner dragging the manure wagon, startling Ralph. Ralph’s horsenality is definitely extroverted, and although I think it is mostly LBE he can go right brained pretty quickly. With incredible athletic ability and the reflexes of a cat, he launched himself into the air, twisted 90 degrees and landed on his hind feet. Faced with this display of airs above the ground and holding only the shortest and roughest of leads, I had no choice by to release the line. Ralph took off running and my heart sank into my stomach. All I could think of at that point was that he would hurt himself and it would be my fault. Fortunately, he ran directly toward our back fence that boarders on the thoroughbred farm next door and he came to a stop right in front of the open gate to a long narrow paddock that we use for isolating new horses. By this time Bree and I, along with a half dozen young thoroughbreds from the farm next door, were all sprinting in Ralph’s direction. As the thoroughbreds flashed by, Ralph dashed through the paddock gate and chased them down the fence line to the end of the paddock, where he pulled up short, wild eyed and snorting. Then he started back toward us, head up, tail in a classic “j”, ripping along in an elevated, extended trot that would make most Grand Prix dressage riders drool. He looked to me like Alexander the Great’s massive stallion, Bucephalas, charging into battle. I took a deep breath, stepped into the paddock and closed the gate as he thundered toward me. “Do you really want to be in there with him?” Bree asked as this fire breathing dragon of a horse bore down on me. “I’ll be OK”, I answered, and staying close to the fence, I walked a little further out into the paddock. It was clear to both of us that Ralph’s adrenaline was flowing. He skidded to a stop at the fence and whirled around and called to the young thoroughbreds. He didn’t even look at me when I offered him the back of my hand, then he took off again for the far end of the paddock. “I better go get a bucket of grain”, Bree said turning toward the barn, “or we are never going to catch him.” “Wait a minute” I called after her. “I think he’ll come to me”. I was breathing deeply and trying to center myself into a calm space. I was sure that if I could project calm energy, Ralph would feel it and come to me. He thundered back toward me and stopped, head up, blowing hard. This time, when I extended the back of my hand, he stretched his nose toward me. He was still a couple of body lengths away from me but his ears were pinned forward toward me, so holding my hand out, I took three steps in his direction, muttering to him softly, “It’s OK, Bub, you’re OK.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a sigh. He stretched his beautiful, long neck, touched his nose to my hand and then he sighed. The thoroughbreds in our neighbor’s field continued to race around but despite Ralph’s energy still being up, he chose to stay with me. He dropped his head and started to graze but ever four or five bites he would pick up his head and touch me with his nose. It was like he was saying, “Hey, not sure what came over me there a minute ago, but I’m back in our herd of two.” He continue to blow and shake his head, but I as I stroked his neck and back, I could feel the excitement drain out of him. By the time Bree was finished cleaning and rebedding his stall, Ralph walked quietly back to the barn none the worse for wear. There are any number of lessons to be learned from this little adventure. For example, it is yet another demonstration of how important it is to have the right tools (rope halter and appropriate line) for the job even when the job is something as insignificant as hand grazing a horse. I’m sure that I would have been able to allow Ralph enough drift and not lost the line when first launched himself into the air. It also reminded me of the responsibility you take on when you touch someone else’s horse. Fortunately, Ralph wasn’t injured during his bid for freedom but he could have been and it would have been my fault. I think the most important lesson, however, is one about emotional fitness or how important it is to keep your head in the game when all about you are losing theirs. If I had panicked when Ralph took off, I would never have gotten him to come to me. Right brained as he was at that moment, Ralph needed calm in the eye of his mental storm. Because I was able to take myself to a calm place inside of me, he was able to see me as a safe port and I was able to catch him before he aggravated this mysterious injury that has kept him stall bound for the past 6 weeks. Ralph has an appointment for an MRI this week and hopefully his owner will finally discover the cause of his lameness. In the meantime, I’m happy to be able to give him a little break each morning. It’s doing us both a world of good.

Finding The Teachable Moment

I’m the only Parelli student at my barn and from the beginning my behavior was considered somewhat eccentric. Nevertheless everyone was friendly and no one seemed to criticize my odd ways so I felt accepted into the barn fellowship quickly after arriving with Sonny two summers ago. Despite feeling strongly that natural horsemanship was the best way to develop both a rider and a horse, I was careful in the beginning not to offer suggestions or proselytize to other boarders. I was hoping that eventually the progress I made with Sonny would elicit enough interest that at least a few of my fellow boarders would begin to ask questions, giving me the opportunity to explain how a more natural approach can build a stronger horse/rider partnership. I try always to stay alert to that “teachable moment” when someone stops asking the ‘what’ question and moves on to the ‘why’. I have one specific behavior in working with Sonny that has generated a lot of ‘what’ questions in the past two years. Sonny is a LBI and he has a lot of opposition reflect that has to be overcome before he is willing to play. As a result, I am very sensitive to making sure that he chooses to come to me when we first start out a session. It doesn’t matter if he is in his stall or out in the field, I never just walk up to him and throw a halter on him. When he is in his stall, I open the door and wait at the doorway for him to come over to me. Sometimes he comes right away, sometimes it takes a few moments and sometimes he’ll stand ignoring me for several minutes until he is ready to amble over in the hopes of scoring a cookie. If he is out in the pasture and doesn’t start toward the gate when I open it, I will often mosey about halfway to where he is grazing and then sit down along the fence and wait for him to come over. This has created so funny moments at the farm when more than one of the other girls has spotted something odd in the field and come running, only to figure out it is just me sitting by the fence waiting for Sonny to come over and greet me. It was this behavior that led to a recent ‘teachable moment’. I was planning a liberty session with Sonny but when I turned him loose in the round pen, he immediately turned his back on me and walked to the opposite side of the pen to graze. Since that was a pretty clear signal that he wasn’t ready to play, I left him there for a few minutes while I went and did some barn chores. When I returned 10 minutes later, he was still grazing and he didn’t even lift his head as I opened the gate. It was not an encouraging sign. So I went inside, shut the gate. Like most of the country, we’ve had a miserably hot summer, and being that I live in Delaware, it has also been incredibly humid. It was late morning and the temperature was already above 90 degrees. The humidity was so high that I had started sweating the minute I stepped from the car. Our round pen is in full sun and about the last thing I wanted to be doing at that moment was sitting there. But six years of experience with Sonny had taught me that neither of us was going to have much fun if I started this liberty session before he was ready so I planted my back against the pen and slid to the ground to wait. The blacksmith was at the barn that morning and one of the boarders was grazing her horse outside the barn waiting her turn with him. After a few minutes, I sensed that I had become an object of curiosity. I sat quietly, occasionally wiping sweat from my face, ignoring my horse. He was still grazing on the opposite side of the round pen, but his butt was no longer pointing directly at me. He had turned slightly and I knew he was watching me. I continued to ignore him. The girl waiting for the blacksmith dragged her horse closer to the round pen and called out to me. “What are you doing sitting there?” she asked. “I’m just waiting,” I called back. “Why?” she asked. There it was, the ‘why’ question, the ‘teachable moment’ had arrived. By this time, Sonny was facing me and grazing in my direction. I knew that in a moment he would lift up his head and look at me. Then he would let out a big sigh, amble over, put his nose in my lap looking for a cookie, and he would be mine! “Sonny wasn’t ready to play when I brought him into the round pen. He was more interested in grazing than in being with me. I’m waiting for me to tell me when he is ready”, I answered. “How will he do that?” she asked. “Well, he’ll come over here’, I said, “and ask for a cookie.” She looked skeptical but before she had a chance to say anything, Sonny picked up his head and let out a big sigh. “I think he is about ready” I said and as I reached into my pocket for a cookie, Sonny started toward me. “Being prey animals, all horses have a natural opposition reflex. It helps to keep them alive in the wild. But with Sonny, who is naturally more dominant, it is really well developed. Sonny has a ‘what’s in it for me?’ personality. If I were to try and force him into doing what I want him to do, he takes a ‘you and what army are going to make me do this’ stance and we get into a fight. I’ve just learned over the years that, with Sonny, it is better if I wait for him to be ready.” “I don’t think my horse if like that,’ she answered. “He comes right to me most of the time.” “Like people, horses can have different personalities. Some horses, like Sonny, are more dominant. They aren’t looking for leaders. But not all horses are like that. Parelli Natural Horsemanship™ has a concept called “Horsenality™” that is based on observable behavior traits. Different horsenalities benefit from different approaches so your horse might need a different approach than what Sonny needs.” By that point I was on my feet and beginning to play with Sonny at liberty. As I continued to discuss concept of “Horsenality™”, I set up two cones and sent Sonny into the figure 8 pattern. As he trotted a couple of figure 8s, I could see his play drive coming up so I sent him into a canter. When he made the next figure 8, he threw a flying change so I disengaged him and cantered back to me and stopped. “That was pretty cool” she said. “I wish I could get my horse to do something like that.” “I’m sure you could”, I told her. “When I first got Sonny, I couldn’t even get him to back up. It’s just a matter of recognizing your horse’s personality and then leaning some natural techniques. If you are interested, you should look up the Parelli website. “ We continued to talk for a bit and I told her about Parelli Connect. She admitted to me that she thought the way I dealt with Sonny was kind of strange but she really envied my relationship and how connected we seemed to be when I was playing with him. “Maybe there is something to this natural horsemanship” she said as she led her horse into the barn for the blacksmith. By that time, I was completely soaked with sweat but rather than feeling all washed out, I was feeling pretty energized. While sitting and waiting, I had found a teachable moment and perhaps Sonny and I had intrigued one of my barn mates enough about natural horsemanship that she would pursue it more. And wouldn’t that make the world just a little bit better for at least one horse and one human?