Sunday, October 21, 2012

Bumps in the Road

I have to admit that I came home pretty discouraged from the clinic I attended last week. After working hard all summer to improve my horsemanship, my confidence and my emotional fitness, things just didn’t go well for me and I found myself wondering just where I am headed on this journey toward becoming a better horsewoman. Actually, it has been a difficult year for me so far. Sonny, my levels horse (actually my only horse), has been lame on and off since April. After hundreds of dollars in vet and farrier bills, I have only managed to get him sound if he is going in a straight line and on firm ground. He cannot circle to the right without limping and he has difficulty when he is in any kind of sand arena. I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion that his Parelli journey is over and he is destined to become a trail horse. I’m sure that would be fine with Sonny. He is LBI and loves go to out on trails. Unfortunately, there are no trails to ride on at my current, relatively Parelli friendly barn and I can’t afford a truck and trailer so changing his career would mean moving him to another barn which is not a happy prospect for me. And being retired, I can’t afford a second horse. My wonderful, local Parelli instructor, Jane Bartsch, volunteered to allow me to ride her levels horse, Lynn, so I could continue my lessons this summer. I started riding Lynn six weeks after undergoing knee replacement surgery and after a bumpy beginning, began to make some real progress, particularly with bridleless riding at the canter. Although I was still having trouble consistently getting a right lead with Lynn, (my left leg is still somewhat weak as a result of knee replacement surgery in June) I was pretty consistently getting soft canter departures in both directions and I thought I had overcome my anxiety. Jane agreed to let me take Lynn to the clinic and I was hopeful that my new found confidence with the canter would translate into better performance in the clinic setting. I planned to meet Jane and Lynn at the clinic location on the evening before the beginning of the clinic in order to ride Lynn once in the arena before the clinic started. I was hoping to give myself a little confidence boost by practicing some canter departures and perhaps even some bowtie pattern. Things seemed to get off track immediately. I arrived at the arena in Fredericka, Delaware, only to discover that Carol Coppinger was doing some individual sessions with clinic participants on the evening before the first day of the clinic. Rather than being able to ride Lynn, I found myself in a private, on-line session with Carol, where she gave me a friendly reminder that everything I did with Jane’s horse could be teaching her bad habits. Don’t get me wrong. One of the things I like best about attending Carol Coppinger’s clinics is that you get private time with her to work on any issue you might have. Carol is a wonderful instructor and it has always struck me that she cares deeply about both her students and their horses. But her comment to me during my individual session set off alarms in my head, All summer I have had a concern in the back of my mind that through my inexperience, I might be in some way be doing Lynn harm. Now Carol had brought up that very issue. Had she seen something during my session that raised her concern? I had some nice moments during the three days of the clinic. My on line work with Lynn was spot on and during the liberty sessions, she stuck to me line a burr on a dog. But my riding left a lot to be desired. I was uncomfortable riding in the crowded arena and felt like I never got Lynn warmed up adequately. I never relaxed and neither did Lynn. As a result, I was overly dependent on using the neck string when we trotted and I felt completely uncomfortable at the canter. My worst moment came on the second day during my next private session with Carol. I wanted to work on my canter departures and I explained to Carol the problems I was having with the right lead. To show her where I was, I asked Lynn to canter off on the left lead, we got a smooth departure, cantered a circle and came back to the center of the arena. Then I asked Lynn to canter off to the right. I got a nice departure but it was still a left lead. Carol told me to take away the lead and then ask again. We worked on it for 20 minutes and I never once got the lead. Everyone was watching. Lynn and I were never in harmony. She needed to move her feet and I was trying to slow her down. I became increasingly frustrated which was upsetting Lynn. Finally I just quit and left the arena. I felt like a complete failure. By the end of the clinic, rather than feeling energized and excited about what came next, I was feeling completely dejected. I’ve been struggling with level 3 freestyle riding for several years and my issue has always been cantering bridleless. I don’t feel comfortable and at my age (going on 65) I wonder if it isn’t too much of a stretch for me. I’ve been trying so hard to achieve the goal of level 3 freestyle that riding has become work and I just don’t seem to be having fun anymore. It was in this frame of mind that I went out to see Sonny on the Tuesday after the clinic. He and his pasture mates were at the far end of the field and I almost didn’t have the energy to walk out to get him but I had driven all the way to the barn so I figured that I should probably at least check to see if he was OK. When I got most of the way out to the little group of horses pastured with Sonny, he disengaged from the herd and headed in my direction. Once he was haltered, I started back toward the barn with Sonny in tow, pushing at my pockets for treats. After my debacle at the clinic, I didn’t want to ride so I thought I might try to play with Sonny at liberty. It was windy and I was too cold to play in the round pen so I took him into the indoor arena and removed his halter. I’ve never had much success in the past keeping Sonny with me in a large arena so I wasn’t expecting much. I brought the green ball into the arena and started to walk with it. Sonny trailed along. Then I rolled it toward him and he pushed it with his nose, a promising start. Since Sonny seemed to be sticking to me, I played some yo-yo game walking and then trotting forward then stopping and backing up. Sonny stayed right with me. I thought I would try a figure 8 pattern. I put out two cones and positioned him between them. When I backed him away and tried to send him in a circle, he started to leave. Remembering something Carol had said during the clinic about not making the horse feel wrong, I just went with him. We trotted a circle together and ended up at a cone. Sonny picked up the cone and looked at me. I started to smile. I tried the figure 8 again. Instead of circling the cone and heading back in my direction, Sonny went sideways to the wall of the arena and then looked at me. I called him back and started again. This time he started to circle me at a trot. After a few circles I brought him in to me and gave him a cookie. By this time we had drifted away from the cones. When I started to trot back toward the cones, Sonny veered away from me, popped over a jump, turned to face me and then trotted right to me. By this time I was laughing out loud. I threw my arms around his neck and thanked him for giving me back the energy I had lost during the clinic. At Fast Track, head instructor John Barr often said that becoming a natural horseman was a journey and that at any time, each of us was exactly where we needed to be on the path. This year in my desire to reach level 3, I had lost sight of the ultimate goal and forgotten that there were bound to be some bumps in the road. It took the playful energy of my big red horse to remind me why I started on this journey. I may never be comfortable with bridleless riding and ultimately that is OK because with each lesson I take and each clinic I attend, I build a stronger relationship with my horse and I am more able to make the world a better place for both horses and people.