The Horse Forum banner
Status
Not open for further replies.

The Road Away From 'Can't'

4K views 46 replies 8 participants last post by  TwoTap 
#1 ·
Most people, when told they can't do something, won't achieve something, or are guaranteed to fail at something, buckle in with grim determination and are inclined to say 'watch me, then.'

I'm not one of those people. At all.

See, the thing is, I was raised in a house where looking at the 'bigger picture' and hearing all sides of a story was expected. I had tolisten to many different aspects and points of view in an argument and make a decision based on what I was hearing. This, in and of itself, isn't a bad skill to have. But at the same time, the household I was raised in was also abusive. I learned there that their 'can't' defined me because of it.

When someone tells me I can't do something, the ingrained response in me is to ask them why they feel that way. When they give their reasons, I listen for the logic, and then if there's something I agree with, the ingrained response in me is to take the logic and apply it to myself and line of thinking - thus, I give up any belief I had in myself in the first place, because the logic is sound and it is against me.

This has applied to literally everything - college, career, weight loss, getting on a healthier life style... Horses. All I hear when I think about these things is that dreaded four letter word, and an abysmal feeling of loss washes over me. My line of thinking isn't a can-do one, it is a can't-do one. The kind that would trap me in a dead end job, because that's all I've ever done and all I'll ever be good for, anyway. Yet aside from this can't-do line of thinking, I have a positive attitude, good work ethic, strong morals. I know how to do a job, I know how to be a supervisor, I am well liked by co-workers and employers, customers love to see me because of how polite I am. I can do some things, I just can't achieve the big things. That's how I think, because that's all I've ever been told and the logic works.

I know that for the 'prove'em wrong' community, the entire start of this thread won't make sense. "Wouldn't that just add fuel to the fire and make you STRIVE to show them just how much you're capable of?!" Or, "Only quitters talk that way!!" I've heard both arguments and can see the point, but, since this is hopefully a journey in horses, let me explain the numerous 'can'ts' I've heard. Since I was young, I have had a great many horsey ambitioms, that, while likely not leading to the richest of lives, has always felt fulfilling in thought.

I wanted to be an Olympic rider when I was ten. Can't - we didn't have the money to pursue the sport, we didn't live in the right part of the state, let alone country, plus my family was an entrepreneurial one. We had a business to run.

I wanted to create a new horse breed when I was eleven. Can't - no money, too many horses already populating the planet, business to run, no knowledge of horse breeding, anyway, and a waste of time to learn because...no money.

I wanted to have some sort of boarding barn, lesson barn, training barn, or combination of the three, from twelve to fourteen. Can't - money, too competitive a market, waste of education, not profitable/never gonna be rich from it, dying industry in this technological world.

You get the gist. It always comes down to money and realistic goals. The horse industry is a hard one to make a living in. Which I myself have advised numerous times, here and in the real world. I'm not denying it in the least. Horses take money to make money, it is an industry that is struggling under the convenience of technology currently, and it's such a competitive market. Therefore, most of my dreams are things I can't do and, at the end, make no sense to dwell over.

Of course, as time went on, I accepted that fact. I took lessons from a lesson barn that, looking back, greatly dissapoints and fails to teach horsemanship that'd save your hide in any really tense situation. I spent four years in a barn that put me in the saddle and taught me to 'ride,' but never taught the principals of anything else in the horse world. Big, waste, of, money. I want a refund. Though, that's a story for another time. However, in having accepted that I couldn't achieve something, all horses became was a dying hobby. This was a very hard, very depressing time as I forced myself to stop loving horses. Eventually, I had stopped seeing them altogether. Partly because of school, partly because of my own forced out growth of the animal.

So what is this journey away from 'can't?' Why does it even matter if I have taken other people at their word that I can't achieve even the most basic of life goals? It's about the fact that in listening to everyone else's perspective, and looking at their bigger pictures, I have made their speculations my reality. I proved them right, and showed them that even the most basic things are things I can't do. It's high time I step out of the shell and fight, like so many others would, to prove them wrong.

This road is about horses, what I intend to share with you, but it affects so much more than just that aspect of this life of mine. Details will be skewed, out of respect of privacy, but hopefully it'll end up being a story worth reading.

And so, I will post my goals, and why I can't achieve them, and hopefully, that will be the last 'can't' I impose on myself - which will be hard, no doubt about it.
 
See less See more
#4 ·
Dreams are interesting things to talk about with people. Depending on who you're talking to, they're either optimistic light-bringing type things, or they're pessimistic, 'would be nice, but...' Type things. Of course, the dreams of which I speak are more like life goals and less like the nightly adventures your mind takes you on while you sleep.

I finished my last post telling you that I would tell you about my life-goal and why I can't achieve it. So I'll lay it on the line.

I want to build a therapeutic-type lesson barn that has a target audience in battered women and children from abusive and other traumatic situations. In this program, I want to focus on the spirituality and sense of purpose one can find in being around horses, the sense of empowerment one achieves from successfully lunging a horse at liberty, and sense of self-discovery found in working these massive creatures. Additionally, I'd like to offer a lesson cirriculum that builds a solid horse person, not *just* a horse rider. One that covers basic health care, basic ground work exercises and why they're important, easy ways to troubleshoot normal problem behaviors and when to know to call it quits, ask for help or self-address a situation. I want to build self and spatial awareness in the rider, helping them to identify just how much our presence of mind, lack there-of, the tenseness or rigidity of our bodies can affect the horses in addition to ourselves. I would also like to provide parents of youth an equestrian crash-course in horse ownership, and what it all really entails, as there isn't enough of that out there.s

Lastly, I want to build this lesson programs using BLM mustangs. Horses that, I have recently discovered, are seriously misunderstood creatures, wrangled up and brought in to sit in holding rather than ravage their homelands. I understand the necessity of the roundups. I also understand that, in an already floundering industry with plenty being shipped, neglected and abused, this caters to a very small percent of a very small population. But that's the dream, all spelled out.

A smaller goal of mine is to compete in a mustang makeover. I love the idea of a time crunch, trying to bring in and tame a wild horse in just a few months. I love the idea of getting a random horse assigned to me, having had no part in picking it out and therefore no bias in how it seems to act or think, and then seeing how far we can go.

Of course, one is a very big, ornate life goal I can't achieve. The other is equally as unlikely. I already know this.

First and foremost, seeing as how horses are such a big portion of this life goal, I can already tell you I don't know nearly enough. I don't know how to lunge a horse, and couldn't tell or show anyone else in this world how to do so, either. Basic first-aide? Hah! I barely manage the concept with humans and my own pets. Like I said, I spent at least four years being a student to a money mosquito. Still a story for later.

And let's focus on what I can't do in terms of the human side of this life-goal. There's the counseling, which I'm not qualified to do and am not sure I would want to go to college to study. Yes, I was raised in an abusive home. Yes, I have watched abusive spousal relationships and I have also helped friends identify the fact that they were dating abusers too. This does not make me a pro at handling these kinds of situations at all, especially since I myself haven't experienced it.

Not to mention the finances of owning and opperating this kind of business, the legalities behind being a counselor or offering equestrian lessons, creating my own cirriculum when I haven't even truly started being a student myself? The whole thing is laughable, truly, when one looks at the reality of the situation.

So, perhaps I should think smaller scale. Just adopt my own mustang and experience horse ownership. Except, what, realistically, would I do with a horse? I'm not rolling in cash, I have rent, bills, healthcare to think about. I have pets who need my time, I myself need to exercise, there's the matter of finding a place to board it that would be convenient and close enough to merit having one - and, I'm not a good enough rider to be riding alone yet. That was the problem my instructors were having with me before I stopped riding altogether.

So what now, do I think smaller still? Perhaps take lessons again? That's all good and dandy, except the only barns in my area cater to the 'I just wanna ride!' Population, all of the places I contact are taken aback and reject my requests to learn things from the ground up. 'We teach horseback riding.' Or, 'That is really more for horse trainers to do...' And, besides, why take lessons if, at the rate I'm going, I won't be able to afford one, anyway? I already experienced the frustrating toilet-flush of a lesson barn that doesn't want to train horse people. I'm not keen on going back.

And this is my 'can't.' All of it is logical, it is all against me. I can't make this life-goal feasible because I just don't have the knowledges needed. 'It's not like you grew up on a farm.' And, 'it's not like you're half way done with college already!' And, 'who is going to pay for all that college? You won't make enough to pay off student loans!'

How would I pursue this goal? Equestrian based education is too specialized and focused on just horses - a bad move, if something happens and I can't continue to ride or be involved. Being a counselor might be ok, but there's also the question of business school to learn the proper ways of running my own business on the up-and-up. There's a matter of establishing myself in both the horse world - which, I haven't been in since I was a toddler and therefore do not really exist in - as well as the counseling world.

So, for now, I will focus on what I can do. I can watch and study videos online, I can volunteer at a therapeutic riding center, and, I can find other means of education. It's just a matter of taking smaller steps.

I might never get to open the business I stated above. That's ok, because I know the logic and will not dwell on it. But maybe I can find a way to climb the ladder, and achieve the mustang makeover.

I won't know until I try.
 
#11 ·
I have a friend (retired) from the U.S. boarder patrol. In the 1990s he started a program to patrol the U.S. boarders using the American mustang. It took years to get going, but he won the equivalent of a medal of honor for his efforts. The program is still in effect today and as far as I know they are always looking for GOOD trainers. Something you might look into.
 
#5 ·
I would suggest looking for a horse to half lease. If you find someone who will share their horse, they can teach you a lot. It would be a good place to start. Discard, for a year at least, any long term thoughts and just see what you can learn about horses. Craigslist or Facebook might be a good place to start.
 
#6 ·
I really like that idea! Finances are a little tight, and this journal is a little behind current happenings but that is definitely something I'll look into.

At the money-sucking place I used to lesson, and part of my frustration due to it, I did do a half-lease type deal. It afforded me plenty of time in the saddle, but... Looking back, I didn't come away having learnt much for the money put in. I was passed from instructor to instructor... I really do need to sit down and write that ordeal out.
 
#7 ·
One of my earliest horse memories, and one I seldom share, is of a trail ride my grandparents took me on at a local stable. I was Four, maybe five and just so excited because I was finally big enough to be ponied on my very own horse behind the wrangler. I can remember her to this day - a thin little red-head, probably in her twenties - bringing me over to a separate hitching post from the rest that had four horses saddled and ready to go.

"You can pick any of these guys to ride!" She had beamed at me, winking at someone behind me. I stared at her for a second before, in a very proud, obstinate sort of way, marching right up to a gigantic black and white paint. The woman laughed, "figures she'd pock the biggest boy we got! This is Stormy, he's some sort of draft mix, but he's a good boy."

My grandparents were worried he'd be too big, but at the reassurance of the wrangler, they were directed to their own mounts and we were on our way. We had made it up the first hill when, quite randomly, Stormy reared up, landed, spun around and bit at the horse my grandpa was on.

I stayed on.

I don't remember much else, other than that I had instinctively leaned forward and clutched his mane when he was on his back feet. I held his mane when he spun, and I remember grabbing the reins and pulling him back after he went after the horse behind us. By the time the wrangler reacted, I was sitting on a huffing, puffing, mighty Stormy, laughing and trying mightily to keep him away from my grandpa's horse. The wrangler picked the lead rope up off the ground, other wranglers and the head wrangler had come sprinting up the hill, and my grandparents were in a huff over the whole ordeal. It all had happened so fast. Everyone kept asking me if I was ok, and amazingly, being as young as I was, still laughing, I actually pointed at my grandpa.

"Maybe you better check on him, I think he had'a accident!!"

Of course he was mortified, but at the insistence of a refund and extra hour free, and rearranging the string of horses, our ride continued and it was a beautiful one. I rode a huge, draft-type thing, we laughed a lot about things I don't quite remember, it was a glorious sunny day.

A few weeks after that ride, I found myself back at that stable, with my mom this time. I don't really remember why, but mom had disappeared into the wrangler's office to talk to the head wrangler and I found myself wandering around the property. There were no horses ready to ride, but there was a man in a round pen, working this gorgeous grey mare. Her name was one of those old-timey, really classic type ones, like Sadie or Annie. He was free lunging her, and doing figure-eights or rollbacks, just changing her direction frequently. I asked if it was ok to watch him, and stood on the fence when he said yes.

That man is why I will never understand those who 'just want to ride.'

He was quiet for a few minutes before he looked me up and down and said, 'she's pregnant. Gonna be a momma real soon. I do this with with her every so often, keep her brain busy."

He explained how it made them friends, which, looking back, was a good way of describing a kind of bond. I watched for a few more minutes before he called it quits, slipping a halter back on her and leading her over to me. He gave me a cookie and said I could give it to her. Before he left, that man shook my hand, and, I will never know or remember why, very earnestly and sternly said, "There is so much more to these critters than just the saddle."

It's the kind of thing a person doesn't forget. The look, the firmness of the handshake, tone of voice, what he said, or the fact that he said it to a five year old that randomly asked to wastch all of five minutes of his round pen session with his pregnant horse. Maybe it meant nothing, which it more than likely did, but it has never left me and it is what sparked my interest in training and diving deeper for what it is today.

Riding, truly, is just a tiny aspect of the things we do with horses. I'd say that 93% of the time I spent at the barn when I lessoned was doing other things - grooming, catching, helping someone else catch, getting tack out, putting it away. Of course that was based on only going out for an hour two times a week and with no training or horse ownership responsibilities, which only add onto the insane to-do list that comes with horses. Even when I was more involved, riding was a very small portion of the experiences.

So why share these two memories? What's the point? They serve to remind me of the fact that this journey isn't a wild hare up my butt. 'Horsey' was my first word. I would gesture and point at horses before I could speak. I've been horse on the brain since I was little, and the love for horses, though diminished, survived even my most vehement attempts to force myself to outgrow them. I get disheartened every so often because of the fact that I know so little, and was raised in the wrong life style to have any real future with one. I know the impracticalities of the dream, and I know the current impracticalities that would prevent me from purchasing a horse any time soon. But the fact still remains.

I get lonely and become a stranger to myself when I abjectly deny that I have a passion for these specific creatures. I can't pretend I don't love them, and I can't force myself to stop. Because, in the recesses of my mind, there is a little five year old, standing on a round pen panel, watching an old timer work a grey horse, and hearing, being reminded that...

There is so much more to these critters than just a saddle.
 
#8 · (Edited)
I've made mention a couple of times about a bad expeirence with the money-sucking waste of a lesson barn that I invested quite a bit of time and money into. I think, before catching this journal up to present day, I should share the tale.

It started with my first big move. I didn't want to relocate, and, in true kid form, agreed to go on the term that I finally get into riding lessons. It was a shock that the folks agreed. Thus began the search - there were a lot of options all over the state, but the area we were moving had the fewest options. Go figure. After a lot of searching, we finally found and settled on a barn that advertised a 'friendly, family like' environment, was 'looking for students who wanted to know all aspects of horse ownership' and had wonderful testimonial about the owner. We sent the first e-mail, and it was scheduled for the following month to have the first lesson due to their level of business.

When we first got out there, we were met by no one. Literally, we were only a couple minutes early due to issues with the directions, but there were no cars at all in the lot and no one wandering around the stable. We cautiously walked over to the barn and up the aisle. There were a lot of horses, big, OTTB types, and we were greeted by a massive, friendly, chestnut. The instructor ended up being about fifteen minutes late to her own lesson, without calling us to let us know. She was young, and explained that she was a student herself in college, selling lessons to help with tuition while also taking lessons from the owner of the barn.

This should have been a red flag. But, we (I) were ignorant. There is nothing wrong with a student teaching or assisting another student, but, I would later find out, that the quality of instruction was drastically different between the owner of the barn and the lady I took my first lessons frim.

Prior to this lesson barn, I had taken four lessons from a lady in our old town. They were done in her back yard, and she let me groom for a coiple minutes before saddling her horse up, theowing me on and letting me ride around for a half hour or so at a trot. That was it, in directive, goals, instruction.... Just "kick and go!" So, in terms of quality instruction, I had a much better go of it. This woman at least let me catch the horse, taught me to groom and basic anatomy of the horse and then put me on for a little bit. In all, we spent about three hours out there for the first lesson. After, we set up a schedule and thus lessons begun.

I was only thirteen at the time.

Lessons went as follows - show up at least thirty minutes early, catch and prepare your horse, ride for an hour, then put the horse away. After the first lesson, the instructor left me and mom to our own devices. It's never good to have two novices walking through a group-pen to catch a horse they're unfamiliar with. The way that facility was set up, there are multiple group paddocks that all open into one massive group pasture that horses are turned out to. Which means you have to walk through a herd of horses that may or may not get along, to get to the paddock your lesson horse is kept in, to catch him, get him out of his paddock (immediately into the pasture with up to fourteen loose horses...), and then out of the pasture. If you were lucky, you didn't end up with a trail of horses trying to escape when you were trying to lead your horses out. If not, you had to fight off several loose horses, while leading your own horse, maneuvering the gates and not letting anyone escape either. This is hard for newbies to do, not going to lie.

The lessons I recieved from my first instructor were alright. We focused on head movements, building muscle and general activities, like geound poles. She spent much of her time on her cellphone. I was so happy, I didn't care. It wasn't until she was out sick and I had a lesson with the barn owner that I learned that there could be more to lessons - actual goals to work toward that, while still pertaining to the objective of the lesson, made it more fun to do the activities. I asked after my first lesson with the owner if I could lesson with her, and was told 'no,' because I didn't have the skill to be one of her riders.

If that happened to me now, I would be livid. It is my opinion, that if your website offers a catering to a newbie population and makes no mention of student instructors, you should be willing to take on beginner riders, especially if one is asking to work with you. I know that some instructors find it redundant to work with the newbies, but the way she said it was very degrading and still to this day strikes me as an "I'm better than your level of riding so, no." Given that the website boasted about its environment, the attitude seemed out of place. I still remember venting at mom about how rude she had sounded when she said no.

I lessoned with the first instructor for a few months before she quit and another lesson instructor was brought on. This girl, another college student, proceeded to retrain me, undoing everything I had just spent months working on. It was frustrating, but after a few months with her, she gave me my first canter and I felt ok about moving forward with her.

I spent the next two years in kind of a plateau. Slowly, the lesson barn population dwindled and this was the only barn giving lessons in a reasonable distance. I went through three other college student instructors in that year, which was annoying because they kept retraining me, and the owner kept denying my requests to lesson with her. Then, they managed to talk my mother into a summer half-lease, where I would spend thre days a week out there, working and riding numerous times a day. The half lease was a couple grand but promised a lot of saddle time, so we moved forward with it.

Big, mistake.

Yes. I got a lot of saddle time. But with the varying types of instruction, being bounced between three instructors depending on who was there that day, it didn't do much. I was constantly being critiqued, corrected and told I was wrong. If I wasn't in the saddle, I was mucking stalls or pens, or feeding,mif we were there in the morming. That half-lease basically just got the barn owner free labor that WE paid for. I learned and was shown nothing in the way of horse care. Any time health stuff arose, horses were taken away and it was treated like classified information. For a 'lesson barn that teaches all aspects of horse ownership' they didn't teach much health care, or training, wise. Now, don't get me wrong, they are also a boarding operation. So if it had been a boarder horse, it would have made sense not to divulge the private owner's info. But they often did the same with lesson horses. My whole summer was spent cleaning paddocks, stalls and runs and feeding. On none of those days were we given multiple lessons, as was promised on the lease, and there were other things that were discussed that didn't happen.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for helping out around the barn, I love mucking and such. But, there were things verbally promised that made the lease worth the amount of money paid that didn't happen. Given our ignorance, I'm sure the verbal promises weren't in the lease and there was no breach of contract. But it still irritates me. There were four of us who ended up providing what was, essentially, free labor to the barn, only getting one lesson. Not to mention, the lessons we got that summer were directed by the barn owner herself. The other three riders that summer had been lessoning with, we'll call her Lori, for months. I was the only lessee that Lori viewed as 'inadequate' for her lessons, and it showed.

Many of the lessons that summer, I was riding in the arena with the other three people, but I was largely ignored by the instructor. I could have been (not that I did) whipping the horse and yanking his face all over, and she wouldn't have noticed. She once asked us all to canter four laps, and we did. I had lost my stirrup and managed to stay on without it all four laps. She actually looked at me and said, "sorry, I forgot you were in the lesson. Do it again."

At the time, I didn't mind. I was happy to be riding at all. But I know now that I would be furious. The constant bouncing around did nothing for the technical side of riding, and even though I was in the saddle three days a week, I was essentially paying for invisible instructors who taught me nothing, contradicted themselves and often let me figure it out on my own.

By the end of the lease, I had invested two years into the barn. In that time, I had learned nothing about ground work. Not even the simplest things like backing the horse up or moving its feet. My saddle instruction was poor at best and, after two years, I still couldn't ride a straight line off the rail. I kept with it, because if it wasn't that barn, it was none at all. Plus at that time, they were the only contact I had with the outside world.

The third year was split between a new college instructor, who would teach a lesson and then turn around and take a lesson with the barn owner, and the barn owner herself. This new college instructor was worse than the first, constantly texting and calling people on the phone while teaching. Once, the horse I was on spooked and sped across the arena. I was dangling off his side, barely managing to stay on and all the way on the other side before she looked up, scoffed, and said, "you need to control your horse better." She went back to texting after that.

After that lady, the owner had an issue finding help for a while and so she had to field all of her lessons for the time being. Naturally, this meant I took lessons with her. She decided to start having me jump - remember, I still had issues riding in a straight line - and got mad when I couldn't do the jumps.

"It's been almost three years!"

Right. Almost three years, I remember reflecting after that. The three years had gone so fast, I had tolerated so much junk, so many different instructors, instruction styles, so much contradicting information. It left a bad taste in my mouth, and I decided to quit. You hit a point where enough is enough. Depression hit hard, though. Quitting the lessons left me at home all the time, no computer and 'homeschooled,' constantly with my parents. My grades started slipping, I was missing the horses, no internet to distract me. I got it in my head to force myself to stop loving horses, ripped all my pictures off the wall.... It was a bad time.

Then, a miracle happened and mom signed me back up for lessons. There was a new instructor now, she was a little older and she was the first to emphasize anything on the ground. She taught me how to do things on the ground like back them up, move their shoulder, and she tried teaching me to lunge. Then we focused on saddle time. She had brought a project of hers, a grade horse she had just really started, and she let me put a lot of firsts on him. First trot pole, first lesson student. It was exciting, but didn't last long. One time I was trying to lunge him and the barn owner literally yanked the rope out of my hand and told me I couldn't lunge him because I wasn't doing it right.

Then she told my instructor not to teach me because she didn't want to see me ruin a horse.

There's that 'can't' again.

It was hard to hear, and it didn't make sense to me. I remember asking my instructor what I did so wrong. She was just as confused as me. My mistakes were basic rookie mistakes, it's not like I had made the horse bleed or something. But, she held true to her boss' word and my ground work stopped. I was crushed. I had enjoyed the ground work and helping her train him so much... We focused on saddle time, and I eventually hit a plateau in trotting. I quit shortly after that, and returned to forcing myself to stop liking horses.

Maybe that barn owner was right, I remember thinking. I can't lunge a horse. I can't do any basic stuff anywhere else in life, so why should horses be any different?

It's only now, several years after having quit, that I realize she was wrong. She treated me like I was beneath her, that barn owner. She handed me off to pretty much anyone else who would take me, and I never got an answer why. I asked people if I had done something wrong and the answer was usually, 'there's just some people she doesn't like. There's not always a reason.' I guess I was one of those people.

And that's why I want a refund. I know I'll never get one.

Looking back on the four years is frustrating. I gave her a lot of free labor, even, toward the end, doing a work exchange for lesson time. I gave her a lot of time and patience. I was very forgiving of the attitude, struggling quality of lessons, and even the 'lesson' horses. Who, looking back, were all really high-strung. Over half couldn't be tied because they'd pull back, none had desensitizing work done on them (god forbid there be a tarp in eye shot of an arena...), and very few were easy to catch. I feel like I wasted my time, and I'm not sure it's possible to convey my frustrations accurately here.

The biggest frustration is the fact that my past self, nor my mother, put a stop to it sooner and saved us the money. The key factor, I guess, is that mom didn't care (my petsitting money paid for the lessons and the lease they payed for, but I payed off in increments) and I just wanted to be around the horses. It still leaves a bad taste in my mouth, though. It was stupid and I know that woman didn't care about the quality of education she put out there for others to learn from.

There's a great saying out there....
"You can't turn the page if you keep rereading the first paragraph." That saying is a big part of this journal. I get so angry over that experience and the ignorance and stupidity of it all, but, I'll try to take some stuff, what little stuff, I learned there and move forward, in a hopefully better direction.
 
#9 ·
Hello TwoTap,
I am a trainer and instructor. I can help you. First thing you need to do is quit focusing on the negativity. You should not be fretting so much.
A dream is a dream. It is really good to dream. For it to go any further you will have to take a jump. If you are willing to take the jump then don't let go. Do that and it becomes an endeavor. Success is measured by your own satisfaction.
Answer a few questions here. Can you watch video I post here for you? Can you understand that sometimes I may miss a day getting to you? We stay very busy. Last but not least, can you understand that no question is a stupid question with me?
I will be glad to help you. If you take the jump, I will let you help me train a mustang right from where you are. I will show you things and as you understand them we will start a horse together.
Let me know. Let the power of The Horse Forum be with you
 
#13 ·
This is a very cool opportunity... I have no idea how it would work, but thank you. Red. Really, that means a lot. I don't even know how to convey how much I appreciate the offer.

To answer your questions, I could absolutely watch videos - and totally understand everything would be at your convenience if it happened. I don't like to impose on anyone and like to keep things fair as much as possible. Questions are they only way to learn, after all. :)
 
#10 ·
Twotap, I just want to encourage you to realize there's a very wide grey area between I can't and I'm going to prove to the universe that I can!

It's good to have dreams, but yours is very specific. Who knows, maybe it will happen, but stay open to the many winding paths that life can take to get to where you want to be. I grew up with horses, getting my first pony when I was five. My first drawing was of a horse. But for a while, it wan't practical for me to have horses. I changed career paths three times.

I studied for a really long time. Had two kids. Horses had to take a backseat. And that's ok! I have no regrets. I have two amazing kids, including a daughter who is a far better rider than I ever was because I had the knowledge and money to give her years of lessons with the best coach in the area. I have a career that I love with a flexible schedule that pays well enough for me to have just built my dream barn.

What I'm trying to say is that I never could have predicted all the turns my life took, but I ended up where I wanted to be in the end. If your ideas for the future are too rigid, you may miss wonderful opportunities along the way. Having the goal to have a horse someday and doing a lot of fun things like liberty training is great. But few people I know who run large stables had a very detailed vision of what they would end up doing. Just keep spending time learning about horses and riding, even therapeutic riding, but remain open to where it takes you. Often, the idea you have in your head of something doesn't match with reality so it needs to be adjusted. Be flexible in having goals and realize that sometimes you will have to take detours to get to where you want to be.
 
#14 ·
It's comforting to hear that things eventually wound back around to a good end destination, it really sounds like you've hit a good place. I do often have to remind myself not to go too extreme - I already know I may never get to open that business, or participate in the make over. But I put them in this journal, largely, as something to reflect on in the future. Six months from now, if I can keep a journal going smoothly, when we (if anyone sticks around, people do flow through this life of ours) look back, what will we see, what kind of person will be updating the journal? I don't know. But I do know that, like my many other ambitions, there is a key somewhere in that ornate goal. It unlocks... Something, through its rigidity and specificity, and, for the first time, offers some sort of guidance and a direction in which to move, which is more than I had six months previously.

Your post, like Avna's, really spoke to me, though. I will do my best not to become locked into one mindset with one goal in mind, and remain open to what opportunites come along. This whole thing is about trying to open up, after all.

Thank you for the kind words. They really do help put things into perspective.
 
#12 ·
I can be the queen of negativity and pessimism sometimes too. I know the feeling very well. What I would like to say to you is one of the things that really helps, is to focus on very small increments of progress, and be grateful for them. Write them down so you can re-read them later. You can have a big future goal but let it be like a foggy distant light to keep you oriented in the right direction. Meanwhile focus on now. What are you doing now? Are you enjoying it, now? If you aren't, is it because it feels like it is clearly heading you in the wrong direction, or because you haven't really noticed it, because what isn't happening is more important than what is?

The big secret is, the future doesn't actually exist at all. Neither does the past. They are only ideas. What does exist is right now this moment, and I am here to tell you that where you end up -- who you ultimately become -- will consist of decisions and habits that you are making right now, and now, and now -- a succession of nows. The habit of gratitude, the habit of openness to opportunity and learning, the habit of looking around you instead of always inside, those things can be consciously, slowly, ingrained, and they will make your path both clearer and happier. And there is never a time when you can't start doing that.

I wish that someone had told me this (or that I had listened), when I was a lot younger! But on the other hand, I realize that messages are only heard when the ear is ready to hear them, and never before, and you can't force this on yourself or anyone else.
 
#16 ·
I'm really thankful that you took the time to put this out there, even if these ears weren't willing to listen - because I heard them, and, like Acadian's post, it really spoke in volumes. For the last few months, I've felt something similar in terms of 'the now' that has been difficult to word. It's been in regards to diet, and usually, 'we won't lose the weight until our bad constants become bad seldoms' or 'tomorrow we'll be having this same discussion over healthy or unhealthy.'

Seriously, I might just print this whole paragraph out and tape it on the wall, next to the list of daily goals.

Thank you, very very much. :)
 
#17 · (Edited)
Now that I have given you the history, at least a good understanding of why there is so much negativity in my mind and line of thinking, I guess I'll start the journey. I don't really know how to format it, as this all took place a few months ago and I need to start there to catch up. So, I'll write the only real way I know how. Story like, or at least, how I have been this whole time.

I should mention that, since my computer died, I type all of my responses on my phone at home, or if I can, when I'm at the library. If there's a bunch of little mistakes, I do sincerely apologize. I do try edit before submitting, but there's always stuff that slips through the cracks. One day, I'll get a computer again!


It started one morning, quite randomly. I just woke up one day and it dawned on me that I am quite capable of doing things. Maybe not the massive things I wanted in my youth - at one point, I actually had ambitions of being a brain surgeon - but the things I'm often told I can't do.

For example, there is no reason I can't get into a community college. It would take some doing, and a lot of studying, but it is possible. People from worse educational backgrounds than myself have done it. I can to.

This morning was when I decided that it was high time to get involved with horses again. I missed them, being around them, grooming them, the smell. I checked the local therapeutic riding center and the local rescue. The therapeutic center was closer to where I lived, and, luckily, they were offering orientation and training that week. It was perfect - both of these things happened to fall on my days off, and it was a way to get involved with horses again, for free, and in a way that worked with my work schedule. I called them and asked if there were any available slots in the upcoming orientation, and the girl on the other line was happy to tell me that there were plenty of openings.

The following Wednesday, I found myself stumbling around a ranch that, even though I had never been there, had a vague feeling of familiarity. What was strange was that there was a horse I had never seen before in my life, a massive, Dun Percheron/x gelding we'll call Rootbeer, and before anyone had told me his name, I had known, deep down, what this horse's name was. It was so surreal, but, it also, to me, kind of felt like some sort of sign. Indeed, looking back on it now, one has to wonder what the likelihood of a person randomly deciding to vy for a volunteer slot at a place when the only hold orientations and trainings bimonthly, the fact that training and orientation were both in the same week, on both of my days off (when I didn't have set days off), and then knowing a strange horse's name without introduction? Either I'm magical, or something fell into place.

I signed up for barn team training after that for the following Sunday, and before I knew it, was signed up for the Tuesday barn cleaning shift.

My first day out there was a little... awkward. I've never volunteered before, and every barn operates differently. The website said that barn cleaning started at eight, and, being a newbie, I showed up at 7:45, trying to show punctuality. However, it turns out that eight means eight and no one else showed up until eight, so I just sat in my car, very unsure of what to do. At training, they hadn't said what to do when you got there, where to start, where to sign in. It was actually quite vague, and I should have asked a lot more questions!

The first person to show up was the volunteer coordinator, 'Fran,' who asked me why I hadn't just gotten to work and why I sat in my car for fifteen minutes. I explained that I hadn't been too sure what to do, and that I wasn't sure how the horses were. Fran laughed, showed me to a barn and told me to sweep the aisle until the barn manager arrived. So I did.

For two hours.

Turns out that the barn manager didn't show up until 10, and that barn team usually showed up around that time because they found it easier to clean the paddocks, stalls and runs after the horses were turned out. And, naturally, a good portion of people left after the horses were turned put. I ended up cleaning the majority of the barns by myself that first day.

I won't lie, it was frustrating, and the negativity kept runningnthrough my mind. Can't, can't, can't. That's about what I remember thinking.
Can't believe i've cleaned close to 25 stalls by myself.
Can't believe I wasted two hours this morning.
Maybe this was a bad idea, I can't see doing this every Tuesday.

After stall 25 I still had the group paddocks to do, it was close to three, I was tired, fed up and annoyed that I ended up doing so much of the facility alone. I was ready to leave, when, I had a change of heart, and the word 'can't' became different.

"I signed up for this job, and I can't leave it unfinished."

I rallied, finished the group paddocks, and went home. It was the first time in a long time that the tone of the word 'can't' was an entirely different one, and had a positive outcome.

I returned to the facility the following week, this time at eight. When the volunteer coordinator arrived, she asked why I had left so quickly the previous week and explained that they had wanted to thank me for the job well done. I thanked her and told her it was no big deal, then I asked if it was ok to clean the stalls before the barn manager arrived. She said yes, and I was thrilled to be able to get an earlier start om the barns.

This lead me to my first experience with a loose horse in quite some time - six or so years, actually. He was a cute little sorrel with a fat blaze and tall right hind stocking. He was kind of pushy, and this was when I realized just how much I had forgotten about being around them and making them move. I pointed out the stall run door and clucked to get him to move, but he just stared at me blankly. 'It doesn't work that way,' his eyes said, his feet glued to the floor. I stared back, pointing where I wanted him to go and flapping my hand at his rear.

He tossed his head, holding me in those laughing eyes. 'No, missy, still wrong.' He didn't budge.

I got frustrated, and quietly the doubt started to act up. Can't even make this dang horse move an inch.

I will admit to giving up and just walking around him myself, knowing that it was the wrong move and feeling utterly defeated. I finished his stall and run, and carried on.

The majority of the horses stayed in their preferred corners, usually out of the way, or, the more sensitive ones would flee the instant I opened their stall door. I was happy not to have to try and move them around again, the laughter, and I swear it was laughter, still annoying me from the first chestnut of the day.

I managed to finish over half the stalls by the time the barn manager and other members of the barn team came out. We did turn out, and then the other barn team members started cleaning stalls. I, surprisingly, got invited by the resident horse trainer to watch her work with a lesson horse, and, after checking with the barn manager, went ahead.

This lady, 'Beth' was lunging and then riding that same chestnut from earlier. She explained that he was a pushy guy and needed to remember his training. She fell silent, and I watched. It was so interesting, she was able to fix even the smallest things with just a light touch. Then, after fifteen minutes or so,mshe got on. She explained that she is classically trained in English riding and apparently can ride in something called 'level four PSE english' (I may have completely screwed that up. It's apparently some really high level dressage.)

She rode around, and the first thing I noticed was that everything was so smooth. Transitions, corners, she got him to leg yield, pirouette (the tiny, canter in place in a circle, thing), and then she dismounted. It was probably the best horseback riding I've ever seen in person. She made it all seem so effortless, she didn't even let him argue with her or put a hoof out of place. I thanked her for the invite to watch, though I'm still not sure why she invited me to watch, and headed home.

It was then I decided it was time to google videos about moving horses in the pen. My goal for the following Tuesday would be to move that dang chestnut out of my space when I cleaned his stall.
 
#18 ·
Great post TwoTap!

When you started out saying you knew the horse's name before they told you and it was all just so magical, I admit, like most middle aged adults, I felt I should tell you horses aren't magical like that all the time! But then I kept reading and see you discovered it all by yourself, LOL.

I remember one of my summer jobs when I was a teenager, someone stuck me in an office with a box of papers to photocopy. They forgot me in there all morning. I was bored to tears, but photocopied the whole darn box.

You don't say whether this happened last week, or last year, so I won't be presumptuous enough to guess, but you'll find a lot of the time you're going to spend with horses will not be glamorous. Most of it involves cleaning in some form or another. Usually also manure. A lot of it.

The important thing is that you get to be around horses! And hard work gets noticed. By someone, somewhere, at some point. It shows you're serious. Most will just give up. You can't be that person!
 
#19 ·
Haha, Acadian, that definitely put a smile on my face. It's not magic all the time, but sometimes whatever higher force is out there just gives you a small gesture to let you know you're going in a good direction, and it's always magical when you realize that it's a sign of some sort!

This all started back in September or thereabouts; it wasn't until recently that I wanted to document some of the happenings.

I am determined not to give up on this venture, and to continue to work hard! I jave since learned that the first Tuesday where there was only one barn team member out there (my first day) was a kind of fluke. Usually Tuesday is a day of lots of hands on deck!

It's always hard when you're new at a job, I bet you were kind of frustrated, locked away all day, photocopying a box of paperwork!
 
#20 ·
That evening, after an interesting day at the therapeutic center, I got onto youtube and started looking for videos on how to move horses around the pen while cleaning it. A lot of the videos weren't that helpful, but I did find a youtuber that made sense to me. His name is Warwick Schiller, and much of his horse training techniques just seemed so... Common sensical to me. I lingered for a while on his channel before I realized that Warwick wasn't able to give me the answer I needed. Most of his how-tos are either geared toward a seasoned horse person, or geared to sell his online DVD series, which wasn't quite what I was looking for. So the search continued, and I eventually landed on a horse how-to lunge which has since been taken down.

At first, I was very skeptical. I wasn't trying to lunge the chestnut, I just wanted to move him out of the stall so I could clean it. Then I thought about it - being able to move his feet is almost directly related to lunging him. The difference being that I would have no ropes to assist my request. So, I watched the video. The girl in it was very informative; she said that it was important not to look directly at the horse, but where you wanted him to go, but not so far ahead that you couldn't keep him in the peripheral vision. It reminded me a little of the couple of lessons I had had way back when. She also discussed position of body and the relation it has with 'opening and closing' doors. So I thought back to him that morning. Sure enough, I had been squarely facing him and staring him directly in the face. So even though I had given him a direction, I had made it impossible for him to go out into the run because I had 'shut the door' for him to go in the run.

I couldn't wait for the following week, so naturally, it drug by. I watched a few more videos of people lunging, and the first videos, trying to understand what she meant by 'look ahead, but not too far.'

The next Tuesday, I showed up at eight again. I checked in with Fran, and got to work on the stalls. Fran said I didn't have to show up at eight every Tuesday if I didn't want to, but I told her that I liked to get the early start but could come later if that was easier for them. She looked a little surprised, 'no, it's not a problem, we just don't have a lot of barn team members who want to start so early.' I didn't know what to say. Was that a round about way of telling me to come later, was it a compliment? I wasn't lying, the earlier start feels more natural. I'd rather get done earlier in the day and be able to enjoy the afternoon.

The first stall I went to was the Chestnut. He was standing rather sleepily, horizontally in front of the doorway that leads to his run. I entered and started cleaning, thinking about what I had heard in the videos. I wasn't quite sure how to get him to move with how he was standing. I could move him forward, then try to push him into the run, or I could move him back and push him into the run. If I were more confident, I could try to move his shoulder out of the stall. The problem was that 'making your energy big and unquestionable'' is easier said than done when you have a very vague idea of what to do.

So, I took a breath, straightened my back, looked toward the front of his stall, and clucked. At first he flicked an ear at me and shifted his weight, blowing. Instantly, 'can't' came back to me.

Can't even move his feet.

I decided to try again, straightening up again, and this time I looked at the wall opposite us, just a little past where we were standing, but I was surprised to be able to see just a little of the chestnut's head. I clucked again, staring fixedly at the spot, pointing like an idiot at the wall. I noticed that the chestnut looked at me, equally as amused as last time. Feeling a little defeated, I flapped my hand, clucking a little louder, resisting the urge to look at him.

After a few seconds, he walked forward!!

It was only three steps, just enough to put his head, neck and tops of his shoulder into the spot I was looking at. But it was such thrill. I realized that, yes. I can move his feet. I was just about to ask him again when a voice scared me. 'He's not in your way, is he?' I jumped, he jumped, and I turned to meet Beth. She smiled warmly. 'I have to ride earlier today, got seven on my list and he's first, so he won't be in your way for long! You can stop by again if you want, about eleven or so. I'll be riding Rootbeer.'

I was excited about the offer, though I still didn't quite understand why she invited me to watch again. Really we had only had the one encounter the week before, and even then we hadn't talked much. I had stayed very quiet while watching her ride, unsure of whether questions were welcome and not wanting to make her regret extending the invitation. At the same time, I was a little disheartened by the fact that she was taking the chestnut. Most likely and the most reasonable reason for taking the chestnut was simply because she had seven horses to train that day, but I couldn't help feeling that she had watched my pathetic attempt to move him and decided to spare both of us the embarrassment.

I thanked her for the invite and said that if it was ok with the barn manager and the stalls were in a good spot, I would love to watch her ride again. Then we went about our business. I spent a lot of my morning reflecting on how moving the chestnut had gone and trying to analyze what I had done the first time, the second time and what changes I had made between those attempts that made a difference. As I cleaned, I tried moving some of the other horses. Most were as sleepy as the chestnut, and there was one, tiny little white mare we'll call Star. She is really such a petite little thing - maybe 13.3, more likely smaller. Star is apparently an Arab mix and belongs to Beth, her stall plaque boasts high level dressage training too.

Everywhere and everything I did to move her, she swished her tail, put her ears back (not quite a pin - but very bemused.) and gave me a mean mare stare. It wouldn't have been a problem if she wasn't standing right in the dirtiest spot of the stall! Thinking maybe she had to 'go,' I cleaned her run first, tried moving her again, went and cleaned another stall, came back... No improvement. She was even more frustrating than the chestnut! I sighed, thinking back to the videos and trying to duplicate the body language. Out of her direct path, looking a little ahead of us, pointing to give her a direction and clapping my hand on my thigh to give momentum. Nothing but the marestare and tail swish. I decided to take a step toward her hip, wondering if I was too far in front of her shoulder somehow, and suddenly she BURST out of the stall at a trot! Holy moley, what a reaction! Zero to 'okok I'm out!' With just a small step!

I felt like I had started to develop a cleaning system, getting in and out of the stalls in relatively quickly. By 10, I had finished my sixteenth stall and the barn manager was shocked. 'How many? Sixteen? These are so clean though... Did you count right?' She counted after me and gave me a high-five. We did turn out and she okayed me going to watch Beth again. By eleven, the other six people only had 9 stalls and the group paddocks to clean and the aisles to sweep, so I felt ok about leaving them so I could go watch the training. Sure enough, Beth was in the process of bridling up and mounting when I got to the arena.

'You made it, nice!'

Weird response, but ok. I thanked her for the invite again and sat on the wheelchair mounting ramp, she mounted up and put Rootbeer through the paces. Walk, trot, canter. Then she started doing some sort of collection exercise I've seen a lot but never been taught to duplicate, putting him on the bit and collection. It was really cute to see the big boy all collected up and looking like a show horse. Then she started asking for even more detailed refinement that a more seasoned eye would probably be able to spot from a mile away, but her praise and the action that got the praise went over my head. I can only guess it was softening studf,mor even more collection than what he was giving her. After her ride, she dismounted and offered to let me help untack and groom him, which was exciting.

While we groomed him, she asked about my horse experience. I explained I had had four years of lessons but didn't remember very much, which she found interesting. I ended up telling her that the place was one of those 'I don't care as long as I get paid' sort of deals, and she sighed, shaking her head. 'Too many places are like that, now days. Bunch of con artists if you ask me.' She also asked why I had decided to volunteer, which I was a little unsure how to answer.

Yes, I wanted to be around the horses, and get away from the word 'can't', but there was more. The desire to be usedul and helpful, and to be able to see other people progress.

'To give back and be around the horses again.' I settled on, which she nodded. That was why she volunteered up to three hours a week training the horses, putting them through the paces and actually making them work rather than amble around the arenas. It was also why she had donated four high-level dressage horses and leased her little pony, Star, to them. We finished and she put Rootbeer away after thanking me for the company. Turns out that the chestnut was one of the horses she had donated, too.

Going home that day left me with a lot to think about, and I decided to look at more videos about moving horses around, to try and find answers as to why Star had reacted so much when I took that tiny step toward her rear. By no means did watching the videos make me an expert, but it did help ward off that dreaded four letter word.

I learned that I can move their feet, because I had successfully done so twice!
 
#21 ·
I think doing things to prove to the world that one can is a trap fraught with pitfalls. A person can easily wind up doing things that inside they really wouldn't want to do otherwise.

Just doing what is internally meaningful and rewarding, to the extent life allows, is the most rewarding path to follow, without worrying about how well you may or may not be doing according to some set of standards, or the opinions of others about what you are doing.

And just letting being on that path be enough without concern of how far down that pleasant path one may stroll.

And while, of course, doing the other necessities that life demands along the way.

And an old proverb that one particular mountain climber recited to herself from bottom to top might apply here also, "An elephant can be eaten by only one bite at a time".
 
#24 ·
I really like your perspective Hondo, and can definitely agree with it. A lot of the problem I have is not being able to find a medium. Yet, it's currently a work in progress. I know that my path of contentment involves horses - in some way, not necessarily the big, ornate way mentioned - but as soon as someone provides a logical reason why it won't work, I just... Give up, because logically it makes sense to. So from what you've said here, I come away with a much more open mind, and a much more reasonable way of looking at things, too. It will be hard to try and work with that line of thinking, but it sounds so much more pleasant.

What ever kind of end this comes to will definitely come one 'bite' at a time.

Thank you. :)
 
#22 ·
TwoTap this is Cowboy. (I did not name him). Several years ago we gentled Cowboy for a customer. The customer fell on tough times and asked if we would take Cowboy and get him a good home. We told him yes and Cowboy came back and is turned out for now. If you are still interested, this would be the horse you can start with. The Mods said we are good to go. We should start a separate journal for this.
Think it through. I want you to make sure you would like to do this as I have to move Cowboy up the line to bring him for training. We can take plenty of time as we go so you can learn.
 

Attachments

#23 ·
Another great post about moving the horses' feet Twotap! People who don't work with horses will never understand the sheer joy of knowing you've accomplished something with these huge animals, no matter how seemingly small. Each is a tiny step towards truly understanding the body language of horses, as opposed to just forcing them to do what you want (ie, haltering and tying up a horse to get them out of your way instead of getting them to move using your body language). Keep going! Sounds like you're making a friend at this place too! Keep watching her quietly. But I think she'd be receptive to a question or two here and there. Maybe try one - a fairly easy question to answer so she doesn't have to interrupt her training session. I think she's giving you an opening. Don't overwhelm her, but maybe test the waters.
 
#25 ·
Acadian, it was so exciting to get those two to move without any equipment! I felt a little bad about Star's send off, and think maybe the clapping noise was a little too much pressure since she responded so energetically, at least that's the conclusion I came to. There are so many tiny nuances to these guys, something I always 'knew' but never truly understood! And I think the incident with Star was one of my most enlightening ones this far. It's crazy that, for as big as they are, they can pick up on the smallest details.

As for Beth, she definitely was throwing me off! I try not to impose myself on people, even when I get invited to stuff. So sitting quietly is my go-to response. I definitely wouldn't want to mess with something good!!
 
#26 ·
The following week would change the center for me. Given that, in the grand scheme of things, I had only really been volunteering out there for four days total, it's not like I really had a good grasp on how things worked, anyway. I had spent much of the week following the events with Star and the chestnut watching various videos online from various trainers. Big names, like Clinton Anderson and Monty Roberts, small names, like users just trying to share what knowledge they had with the world, and just about everything in between. Mostly, I was looking for explanations as to why the horses would react the ways that they did.


That was when I found a user who explained the whole 'pressure' thing a little more in depth. She explained that 'pressure' is as simple as looking at a part of the horse's body and thinking with intent. She demonstrated it by disengaging a horse's hind-quarters, squaring her shoulders, staring directly at the hip and, when she needed to, taking just the smallest step toward her horse. The first guy she demonstrated with was a well trained, been there, done that, kind of horse. It was obvious that they knew each other well, given how well he reacted to even the most subtle of actions. She moved on to a different horse, one who wasn't as well versed in her 'language.' With him, she had to act 'bigger.' She squared her shoulders, looked at the hip, and this time, took bigger steps.


This horse was still 'dead' to the pressure and wouldn't move.


She added more 'pressure,' now wiggling her wrist and end of a lead rope at the hip. He disengaged with the additional 'pressure' and stepped under himself, moving over. She explained that by being 'dead' to the pressure, the horse wasn't paying much attention to her as his handler or giving much thought to what she wanted of him. This made sense to me, and kind of explained why I had had so much trouble the first day. I most definitely was a 'small presence,' and gave up so quickly that even if the Chestnut had thought to listen for a split second, he would have changed his mind and made a different decision because I wasn't 'telling' enough with my actions.


The video then cut to new scenes. She was disengaging the hind-quarters without halters or lead ropes. She started with the old timer first, setting him up in the middle of an arena and backing him up, moving his shoulder, disengaging, all by basically just looking where she wanted to move, and assisting him with just the smallest body movements if he seemed to question her. When she did the same with the second, less trained horse, she ran into issues. Because he was so 'dead' to the pressure even with the lead ropes, he almost blatantly ignored her requests without them. She explained that she was going to have to become a 'ginormous' presence with that horse in order to get his attention on her.


So, she squared up, and all of the motions that had been so subtle with the old timer became extremely exaggerated. Her steps became bigger, her slight hand wiggle became clapping on the thighs, and she walked right at his hip with no intention to stop! My first thought was 'man, she's going to get kicked.' But eventually, it turned into a game similar to chicken, and he gave to her pressure when she showed no intention of giving up. It kind of surprised me, not going to lie. Everything I had been taught was to avoid the back hip and legs, especially in the striking zone, which was where this lady had walked directly into. So I got to wondering, would I be able to duplicate it?


Likely not.


This woman was obviously experienced enough and knew or trusted her trainee well enough to be comfortable exploiting the kick zone like she was. I, though coming back into a sort of confidence with horses, was no where near ready to try and do such a thing, especially not without the watchful eye of someone to tell me, "hey, that horse is about to stick a hoof through your thigh!" But it was food for thought, and I had been super eager to get back out and try making myself a 'bigger presence' in the stall, so at the very least I could move them out of the way, if necessary!


Turns out, though, that the center had been in a bit of a break over the last few weeks - my first days out there. They had renovated part of the main building, put in fresh sand in the massive indoor arena I hadn't been in yet (not where Beth trained the horses), and had shut down lessons for a few weeks to keep everyone out of the construction areas. Though I don't remember seeing any equipment - not that that means much, since I spent almost all of my time in the barn or the arena, and only go out there once a week!


Lessons were back in session now, and lessons begin as early as eight thirty and apparently run as late as seven in the evening! There was quite the bustle of business as volunteers collected horses for lessons, instructors congregated in the grooming area, I overheard them discussing horse selections and what they planned on doing with the arena, Fran was leading a fairly large tour that I recognized to be an orientation day type tour. I did my usual - waving at Fran and saying hi as she passed, then heading straight for the Chestnut's stall, eager to try to move him again.


Only, it was empty and his name plaque was gone.


I won't lie, I was genuinely sad to think that the big guy was gone. I had planned on asking someone about his disappearance when a kind of high-pitched, almost 'girly' voice called out. I turned to see a tall, gangly and very skinny man walking up to me, trailed by a tiny little woman who looked flustered as she chatted on a cellphone and scribbled something on a clipboard. I didn't realize that he was talking to me until he walked right up and jabbed me in the shoulder, "Hey! I was talking to you!" He squeaked. It took me a second to realize that he had some sort of mental disability as I rubbed my shoulder.


We'll call him Steve.


If it hadn't have been for the tiny flustered woman, I would have gone off on him for poking a stranger in the shoulder as hard as he had. She quickly ended her conversation and told Steve to apologize, before shooting me an apologetic look herself. She told Steve that he hadn't met me before and that it was rude to poke people, and Steve genuinely looked upset as he apologized. I told him it was ok, and earned a small smile from the woman. Just as we were in the process of introducing ourselves, a new woman came in from the grooming area and asked to pull the tiny woman aside, without Steve. I was a little worried, I'm not going to lie. At training, we had been told to be very careful with the students as some were known to make up lies about volunteers doing inappropriate things to them, like hitting them or sexual contact. I had no way of knowing whether Steve was one of those individuals, and wasn't keen on either of us getting into trouble or investigated because I said or did something that Steve considered to be wrong.


Steve, on the other hand, was completely relaxed as he stuck his fingers through the bars of a stall and scratched a big Appaloosa's head. "I been riding three years!" He exclaimed happily, "I get to clean the stalls too. I'm pretty fast, I can get five done before my lesson!" So, I chatted with Steve for a few minutes about riding and told him it was very cool that he had three years under his belt. He really prided himself in his quick stall cleaning time and enjoyed bragging about his first canter a few months previously. Fran rounded the corner, kind of in a hurry and without her tour group. She slowed just enough to say hi to Steve and myself, "Steve, I see you've met Tap! She's one of our newer volunteers, but she'd sure give you a run for your money cleaning the stalls!" She said, winking at me as she hurried away, mumbling something about sign up sheets.


Steve's entire demeanor changed as he very suddenly started looking me up and down, as though he were judging me. "So you think you're fast, huh? Wanna prove it? No one's been able to beat me yet!"


Sure enough, as soon as the tiny woman came back and Steve okayed cleaning stalls before his lesson that day, I found myself in a stall cleaning race with him. He had prided himself so much in his ability to clean that I felt a strange need to keep the competition close, but not win. So, when he was cleaning his first stall, I timed him and paced myself so that I was just a little slower than him, so I could really give him a run for his money. We spent the next hour cleaning four stalls, which, I won't lie, drove me absolutely Insane. It turns out that Steve is meticulous, slow, and shifts almost every single shaving before going out to the run and raking all of the dirt down so that there are even lines in the run without any of his footprints in it. But, I was determined to match his pace and give him a good race. By nine, his volunteer and "handler" came to get him ready for his lesson, he had just finished his fifth stall and I was just starting mine. Steve very importantly checked my other four stalls before shaking my hand. "You're pretty good, but not as fast as me yet!"


As soon as Steve was out of ear shot, "Tiffany" thanked me for being a good sport. Turns out that whatever brain disability he has, it profoundly affects his emotions and he is exceptionally bad at handling loss or any sort of defeat, which was why he took lessons. The goal was for him to learn how to cope with animals and other people who wouldn't immediately bend to his will. She said that if I had just "whipped his butt" I could have accidentally triggered a break down and cost him the lesson for the day! She left after that, going to watch his lesson, and I sighed, thankful not to have ruined anyone's day.


After the race with Steve, I went back to cleaning stalls. A lot of them were empty, and I was a little discouraged not to have been able to work with the horses so far. But Steve had been so intent on his cleaning and I had spotted him watching me from across the aisle a few too many times to feel comfortable trying to move them as he took the race seriously. I entered the stall of a big bay Quarter Horse, he's solid in color and he looks like a Frank to me. His plaque stated that Frank was a champion cutting horse who had retired to teaching his owner's grandchildren how to ride before coming to the center. He was, apparently, going to ride out a while before permanent retirement back with his original owner. Frank reminded me a lot of the video's "been there, done that" old timer, and moving him proved to be almost too easy. All I had had to do was point out the run and cluck, and Frank ambled right on down to the end of the run without a second question. As he was walking, though, I noticed that there was a bright red spot on his back leg, and that was how I ended up meeting Doc.


I went to investigate and sure enough, Frank had some sort of gash on his back leg, right above the hock. I finished cleaning his stall real quick, since it was almost done anyway, then set out to look for a staff member to tell. I very literally bumped into a tall man with quite the robust belly in the grooming area, and recognized him as the "in house vet" who was one of the only people to live on the ranch permanently. I explained about Frank, and together we went to catch the old boy. Doc was leading him away when I suddenly, without much thought, asked if it would be ok to watch him doctor the horse up. Doc smiled and said yes.


In the grooming area, I watched as Doc cleaned with some sort of antiseptic disinfectant and applied ointment. He was just debating with himself over whether he wanted to wrap the wound when, quite surprisingly, Beth walked in, leading the Chestnut! She took one look at Frank before chatting with Doc about the wound and treatment, then she smiled at me. "Fancy meeting you here!"


Doc had decided to wrap it, just in case, and as he did, Beth and I discussed the Chestnut. She laughed when I said that I had thought he had been taken away from the facility. He had only been moved to a group paddock now that lessons were back in session. She said that it did wonders for his brain since he was one of the more popular lesson horses. Then she invited me to watch her work with him, since I seemed to have such an interest in the horse. I said I would love to, but that we were behind in stall cleaning and that I would run it by the barn manager before committing to watching her school with him. She smiled at me and said she understood, and all at once I was given Frank to lead back to his stall. As luck would have it, I bumped right into the barn manager, and asked if I could watch the training and then come back to finish the cleaning after. The barn manager only laughed as she opened the stall door for me.


"You don't need my permission, you know. It's a volunteer position, you're kind of free to do whatever you want. But sure, go ahead, have fun watching her work with him!"


I hadn't thought about that. As far as I was concerned, the Barn Manager was my 'boss' and cleaning was my 'job' so it only made sense to clear it with her before just abandoning the barn team to go and watch Beth. But, never the less, I went back to the arena where Beth was lunging the Chestnut. She put him through all three gaits before she mounted up. She explained as she bridled him that her goal for the ride was to duplicate one of their old dressage tests and see whether the old chap remembered his moves. It was a lot of fun to watch! She entered, did the salute, then moved all around the arena, in circles at all gaits and even leg yielded across in both directions at the trot before ending the ride with another salute and massive pat on the neck before walking the Chestnut down. After she dismounted, she invited me to help groom him again and I eagerly accepted.


While we groomed, Beth bragged about him. She had owned him for thirteen years and trained him from 'green' to 'well-rounded competitor.' A lot of people had underestimated him when they had showed, apparently "back yard bred, paint-without-the-color" type horses don't usually get to go to the upper levels of training or competition, and people had always mocked him before a show and reluctantly taken their words back after - usually when she had won the competition and kicked all of their "snooty" hineys in the process. It was obvious she loved the guy very much, and she even said that if he ever retired from the program, she would be the first to adopt him back and give him a well deserved retirement. I smiled, it was really quite cool to watch her croon over him. The love she had for him was palpable and infectious, and I realized that, in his youth, he must have been quite the horse to watch! After he was groomed, she braided his mane and tail, then turned him out and left for the day, apparently having gotten an early start due to a doctor's appointment or something.


I kept true to my word, though there were like, ten people on barn team working. I jumped right in and cleaned a few stalls, and we ended up tag teaming much of the facility together. I finished the last of the stalls in the barn, and they divided up among themselves to get the group paddocks done. It was only noon by the time we all finished the cleaning!


I still couldn't believe how busy it was compared to the last times I had been out there. There were people, a lot of people, everywhere. Horses were constantly being led in and out of pastures, instructors could be seen, carrying tack to and fro, trying to set up for lessons that were coming up. I realized that it was somewhere I was actually really excited to be a part of as I headed home that afternoon!
 
#27 · (Edited)
I'm really eager to get this journal caught up to the present, but I'm having internet issues at home and can only currently log in when I go to the library. I don't have a huge amount of time, but had a thought I wanted to document.

I get into a lot of trouble with the overly logical crowd for attributing too many human type characteristics to my animals. Not just limited to horses as I do have pets, I attribute a lot of characteristics that you don't usually hear in relation to the furry population. Things like 'depressed' and 'angry' tend to become 'lethargic' or 'situationally aggressive.' Now of course, I wouldn't imply that anger or depression work on the same ways on animals that they do on humans, but I do firmly believe that the four legged can get similar emotions.

For example, my dog and I have a very close relationship. I have a dependency on him; if I sleep without him in the room, I sleep so lightly that the lightest noise will wake me up. Even common house noises, like the heater kicking off (which happens so quietly that you normally strain to hear it.) I have heard that my dog, on the nights I'm not home, refuses food or eats very minimally and spends his time on my bed. I talk to my dog just like he were a human which has resulted in him seeming to understand a bigger vocabulary than most of the dogs I've met. We know each other so well that I swear we read each other's minds, and can almost always sense what the others intentions are. I know without needing to look when he's going to get a drink before he reaches the bowl, for example, without being in the same room and despite our carpeted floors. I'll just randomly think, 'Well, Max is thirsty.' And a second later, I'll hear him lapping up a drink.

This relationship I have with him is strange. I won't say unheard of or totally unique, because I'm sure there are other pet owners who know their dogs habitual behaviors just as well as I know mine. But it is strange in that things that are generally random are things I just *know* he's going to do.

As such, I have refused to take him to a professional groomer. I groom him myself. In my mind, the act of bathing my dog is too personal a task to assign to a stranger, and I view it the same way as I would of I were paying someone to bathe me. The logical crowd generally treats me like I'm insane. 'Dogs don't get embarrassed like we do. A professional groomer can offer services you yourself don't know.' I can see why they might think that way, truly. However, the one time I did take Max to a groomer, I watched his 'behavior tape.' His eyes were wide, white, and though he tolerated it, I could sense his discomfort through the video. It only got worse when the groomer wetted him down, and lathered up his underside near the private area. I started thinking about it.

I had taken him to a new person, who, even though he had no idea who they were, proceeded to clip him to a bathing table, get him wet, rib him all over without worrying about what *he* was ok with, change the scent of his body, clip his nails... All of these things are, in my mind, very personal things. Why should a stranger be allowed to touch his *area*? Clip his nails? Express the anal glands? Whatever else they do? My dog, like most, didn't know the groomer, didn't have a relationship with them, and in the end, it's a violation of their space. Given the choice, most dogs would choose to skip a bath normally, anyway.

After Max's session, he ignored me for three days and the looks I got told me he was irate. It was then I decided, if he needed a bath, I would do it. This change has resulted in a much happier pooch, and now he quite enjoys his baths. I wasn't going to make him endure baths with a person who he only saw as the groomer, especially when I couldn't find anyone interested in building a better relationship with him. Because, you know, 'that's silly, animals don't get embarrassed/as concerned about privacy as humans!'

I wonder if that's why there are so many groomer horror stories? Who knows.

Then I got to wondering, are horses the same?

When I did that half lease, I became the only rider on my horse for the entire duration of the lease. Which wasn't my choice, it was the barn owner's decision to limit his riders. The horse and I built quite the friendship because I was never quite the same as the other students. I always found the time when we were doing the working portion of the lease to go and visit him, just for the sake of visiting him. Every once in a while I'd slip him a carrot. After a paticularily hard ride, I would spend up to an hour (situtionally), grooming him down and ensuring he was totally dry. The entire grooming session, I spoke to him like I would anyone else and verbally voiced my thanks to him for a good ride. The other four girls were actually jealous. Apparently, when he heard my voice, the horse stopped eating and began to walk to the gate with his ears pricked.

When the lease ended, and I went back to riding other lesson horses/giving them the treatment he had received, his entire demeanor changed back. He became the extremely grouchy horse he had been before the lease. The barn owner noted the huge difference in his personality several times. Which is why I wonder.

Can horses be as picky about their relationships as people? Do they get more grumpy having multiple different riders? I know they're opinionated and such, but wonder. Where does their range of emotions stop? I'd wager a guess that they're equally as opinionated, dynamic, and emotional as the rest of us, experiencing a wide array of emotions and attitudes that most people don't think they can even feel.
 
#28 ·
I will never forget my fifth day at the center. I had shown up really early - 7:30 - and, some how, ran into Fran. I apologized for being so early, having left the house thinking I was late. She laughed and sent me on my way, saying she trusted me enough to know all I was going to do was clean stalls, which made me happy. It was serene and quiet that early in the barn. There was the usual shuffling sounds of the horses, but the place was deserted and no people were around. It was so nice. I grabbed a pick and muck bucket and headed for a stall I hadn't cleaned since my first day, all the way in the back of the barn.

It housed "River" a massive, 17hh grey horse that seemed so out of place surrounded by the short little QH/Paint selection. There were only a few horses bigger than 15hh, but not many, and none as tall as River. River had the most unique star. Or more like a faint, I guess. It looked like there had been a full-splotch white star at one point, but someone had dyed the inner hair of the star grey, leaving only a ring of white behind, like a coffee eing on a coffee table after you pick the mug up!

River isn't the biggest horse I've ever been around, but he is the biggest I've been around *recently* and moving his feet proved to be intimidating. I positioned myself between his hip and shoulder, looked and pointed out his run door and clucked. He didn't budge, cocking his leg back and shifting his weight, relaxing. I tried again, this time using my free hand to wave at his tail. Nothing. I graduated to clapping my hand on my thigh and when that didn't work, I gave him a tap on the hip. Nada. No forward motion. River actually looked like he was about to doze off.

Frustration begins where knowledge ends, that's a phrase I've become very acquainted with. When I couldn't figure out how to move River, I became very frustrated. Not because he wouldn't move, but because I didn't know what else I could do to get him to move his feet. Volunteers aren't allowed to use ropes, whips or other devices without express permission from the barn manager or another member on staff. So, giving up, I went to clean his run. I was surprised to see seven of the horses laying down all at the same time. The more I looked at them, the weirder it was. They were all laying in roughly the same spot in their runs, on the left side, about a foot from the rail, all facing to the right. How likely is that? Weird.

I went back in with River and tried moving him again. Which he did, but, every time he moved, he stepped in front of me and put his butt in my face. I didn't like it at all. He kept moving and putting me in the position to be kicked, and I couldn't tell if it was something I was doing or if it was him deliberately disrespecting my request and space. I got out of his kick zone as quickly as I could and was just retreating back into the run to think without being giving him a chance to kick me when a very loud clang spooked River, myself and every one of the horses laying down. It was good I had moved, because River threw a massive buck that connected with the wall and empty space I had just been standing in! I about had a heart attack, and all down the line of horses that had been dozing, over half had shot to their feet.

Curious about what the noise was and careful to let River know exactly where I was, I went back into the aisle and investigated. It had only been about ten minutes, and the barn was completely deserted. Then I saw a horse a few stalls away, covered in shavings and shaking them off. He must have rolled and kicked the fence, or something. Satisfied I went back to River's stall, squared myself up and firmly told him 'out.' He looked almost offended as he laid his ears back and retreated. I was just finishing it up again when there was another very loud clang. It didn't spook everyone as much the second time, but I investigated and it was the same horse.

I cleaned a stall next to hers, watching her for a moment. Sure enough, the bright-red looking bay dropped and rolled a third time, kicking the doorway that lead to his run and causing the third clang.

This is where full disclosure comes in. I don't know nearly as much about horses as I'd like.

I finished the new stall and started another. In that time, "Dandy" had settled down and stopped rolling. She was laying on her side, napping. I thought about her a lot while I worked on my other stalls. In the back of my mind, a croaky, old voice said 'maybe she's colicking...' But, I didn't know enough about the disease to say so with confidence, and I didn't know how often horses rolled, so I wasn't confident about saying anything. She could have been doing that thing where they roll, get up, roll on the different side... I finished stall number seven right around the time traffic started picking up in the barn as staff and volunteers trickled in, and there was another lound clang from Dandy. I decided right then that I was going to find someone, better to be safe than sorry. I found Doc with the barn manager in the grooming area.

It was weird to see Chris so early, since he usually showed up at ten. They were surprised to see me. I explained that I had been cleaning and that Dandy had rolled four times since 7:30. Three times in succession, then again, just now. 'I don't know how often they roll, but I just wanted to tell you.' Both men thanked me for being so watchful, and said to find them if she continued to roll. I was shrugged off kind of, and I remember thinking, 'can't even help Dandy.' I went back to cleaning. For all of fifteen minutes, as Dandy started rolling again. I went and found Doc and together we went to Dandy's stall.

She was laying on her side, looking at her barrell. With what little I know, I surprised myself by saying, 'isn't that a sign of colic?' Doc shook his head, his eyebrows furled. He haltered her up and gave me the lead rope. 'I need you to walk her.' We coaxed her to her feet and I walked her to the training arena. She just barely made it in the door before she tried to lay down. Doc gave her a sharp pat on the butt and kissed, lurching her forward a step. Doc gave me a very stern look. 'I need you to walk her. Walk fast, run if you have to. But do not let her lay down. I have a call to make.' And just as I was about to tell him 'I can't...' He was gone.

I was alone in an arena with a horse who wouldn't stop trying to lay down. Can't raced through my mind as I pulled and clucked and kissed at the poor mare.

Can't make her walk.
Can't keep her going.
Won't be able to get her up.
Don't know what's wrong.

All the while, I did my best to encourage forward motion. I used the lead rope to swat her hip and kept my head forward so she wouldn't stop because I was looking at her. I clucked, clicked, kissed, used her voice commands, I ran ahead of her, I tried walking by her head. The sweet thing just looked at me, and something.. I don't know what, but *something* in me knew that she wasn't going to make it. A new 'can't' joined my parade of self doubt as I put all my effort into getting Dandy to move.

Can't give up on her now!

She tried laying down twice while we were alone, and both times kt had taken tremendous effort to keep her up and moving. Chris came into the arena just as I was fighting her on the third try. He shouted at me not to let her lay down, and I nodded, trying to keep her up. She was too strong and she went down. Chris ran into the arena and whipped the rope out of my hand, tugging on her head. I was so confused by what had just happened when I realized that he was yelling at me. 'If you're not going to help then dammit you go find me someone that is!'

Can't even keep the horse moving.

I shook my head to clear it and asked what Chris wanted me to do, he said to get a crop and smack her butt. I did, and after a few minutes and a roll, we finally got Dandy up. All Chris did was shoot nasty glares at me as he led the horse and I followed, trying to help him keep forward motion. Suddenly a whole cloud of people blew into the arena. Fran and other front staff, instructors I knew by sight but not name, and Doc. Everyone chattered worriedly about Dandy as Chris and I walked her, and Doc explained that the vet was on his way. Dandy tried to lay down three more times before the vet arrived and Chris, Doc and one of the instructors disappeared with them.

It had happened so fast - the quiet morning turning into the circus it had become. Chris yelling at me about not helping stung. I had been walking her. I had kept her up too, all by myself. I focused on cleaning and managed to finish the majority of the stalls before the rest of barn team showed up. Just as Chris was starting turn out, Dandy had been loaded and was apparently om the road to some other vet's office. He ignored me and I decided to sit turn out out, going to read Dandy's stall plaque. She was a leased horse, there because the owner was pregnant but wanted her horse to keep fit and active while she was out of the saddle. I was deep in thought when Doc found me ''I wanna say thank you for the help with Dandy. If you hadn't of noticed her...' He was cut off by his cell phone ringing, he said it was the vet and answered.

Dandy had died.

Just like that. In the matter of a couple hours. Dandy, who should have been perfectly healthy had something called 'compaction colic' and a decision had been made to humanely euthanize her upon seeing xrays or an ultrasound, or something. News spread pretty quickly around the center, and the loss of the mare hit everyone hard. She had been so well loved as a lesson horse. I couldn't believe it. I excused myself and left as quickly as I could, brushing past Beth on the way out and only barely registering that she spoke to me as I left.

Death isn't hard for me, but I was blaming myself for this one. If I had just said something as soon as I saw her rolling, maybe Dandy would have made it.
 
#29 ·
I had no interest in going back to the center the following week. I had stewed all week over Dandy, Chris and Doc. I blamed myself for her death and the thought of the pregnant owner was too much to bear. It had taken a lot of persuasion on my family's part to get me back out there. I agreed, and went out at ten like a good barn team member should. I got there right as Chris and the others were starting turn out, and I decided just to get started on cleaning rather than bring the horses out to their day time pastures. I ducked into an empty stall and worked on cleaning it. I went about an hour before being noticed by anyone. It was actually Beth who found me first.

'There's our hero!' She said happily, entering the stall and engulfing me in a hug. 'Thank you so much for what you did for Dandy. You spared her from so much pain!'

She had to be wrong. I should have mentioned the rolling as soon as I noticed it, so I stayed quiet. Beth didn't notice as she went to fetch whatever horse she was training, tossing the usual invite over her shoulder on the way out. I continued cleaning, not remotely interested in watching the training or helping with the horses. A few more people said their thanks, which I mumbled 'no problem' to, not knowing how to respond. By one, barn team had finished and I was getting ready to leave when Chris approached me. He said he wanted to apologize for the previous week and wanted to thank me. Doc walked in on the conversation, giving me a hug the same way Beth had.

'Dandy would have been in pain for so long. I would actually have looked at her and thought she was sleeping. Not... Well, you know.' I nodded. The conversation turned to horse leading in lessons. Both men said I should attend the training as the skills I had demonstrated with Dandy hinted I'd be ok with a lesson student on board. I told them I'd think about it, and left in a very strange mood.

They didn't blame me for Dandy? But I had failed to bring it to their attention in time.

It wouldn't make sense for another week.
 
#30 ·
It took a little while to pull my head out of my butt and realize that Dandy's death was not my fault. I certainly wasn't a hero, but not a villian, either. I was just a volunteer to happened to spot odd behavior and had the good sense to bring it up after the fourth roll - when it started to seem suspicious. Even the men, people who spend all of their time around horses, hadn't been concerned at first. Returning to the center became much easier after I came to that realization.

I got quite a few stalls cleaned before Beth found me and drug me to the training arena. 'I gotta have company!' She said, smiling over her shoulder. She was going to be working with River on the lunge line and pffered to let me help groom him up. I was eager, she was going to put a circingle on him and I had never done that before. As we groomed, Beth talked about Dandy and how much fun she had been to train and ride. We also talked about the memorial ride that the instructors were putting together for any student who had used Dandy religiously in their lessons. It was sad and beautiful. Many of the lessons Dandy had been used in were the troubled youth programs, but there were also students like Steve with mental disabilities who would be riding. At the end, all of the students were going to hold up a 'Dandy We Love You' type creation that they took part in crafting.

We entered the arena and she walked River around a few laps before hooking him up to the lunge line and setting his circle. I settled into my usual spot on the wheel chair ramp to watch them work. As I did, Beth told me I was allowed to ask questions. So I asked tje first one that popped into my head: what do you look at to keep from getting dizzy?

She thought for a minute before answering, 'his hip. My arms form a V, one holding his head and the other holding his bum. I look at his hip as a focal point, but can use my peripheral vision to watch the rest of his body and see when he strides out, or relaxes.' it wasn't the answer I expected, but it made sense and so I spent much of the lunging session trying watch his hip. As she lunged, she explained the various movements that River was giving her and how she could tell it all just from her vision. Much of what she was saying made sense, but I couldn't actually see it for myself.

After that, she grew silent as she focused on collecting him from the ground and I quieted down myself, letting her work and trying to see what she had been talking about. Apparently, the back leg was supposed to cross *just* under his body and she wanted him to drop his head a little lower. River really is a striking horse, and in his prime probably stole the show ring on looks alone! I wish there wasn't such strict policies regarding the media of this place.

After his session, Beth and I groomed him down and discussed leading horses for the lessons. Apparently, they need calm, collected people who have been around horses before and at least have enough experience to be able to hold the lead rope the proper distance from their face. She said I should attend the training, but I declined. 'I don't think I can. There's still so much I don't know, I wouldn't want to make a mistake with the horse and cause the rider to fall off.' Beth laughed at me.

'Can't? Tap, you should at least try. You never know. You might just surprise yourself!'

And so, I found myself a few weeks later in Horse Leader training with seven or so other people. Many of them had never been around horses in their lives, one lady was terrified of horses (no one understood why she wanted to volunteer for that particular role) and maybe two others actually owned or rode horses. Then there was me. Fran had us take turns giving a brief summary of why we wanted to volunteer, and most answers mirrored each other. Community service, giving back to the community, or getting to be with the horses. I myself answered giving back to the community.

We talked for roughly an hour about horse leading and the various expectations of the job. Most of it was typical pre-ride stuff. Catch and groom your horse, get them to the arena ten minutes before the scheduled lesson time, hand walk them until the student arrives. Then they had people practice manipulating halters, we were all assigned a horse from turn out, and the we had hands on training for the other two hours.

What I can tell you is that their training methods were vague and left a lot to be desired.

They demonstrated once how to get the tack and put each type on the horse. Then they let a bunch of newbies loose and chatted amongst themselves while they waited. I got my guy groomed and tacked. I used a bay with four white feet, and luckily he had english gear. I've never really tacked up western and would have been very lost.

After grooming and tacking, we led our horses to the training arena and had a chance to hand walk them for ten minutes as the instructors explained how this worked and what the goals were. We were to walk a serpentine/figure eight obstacle course, over ground poles and around barrels, to get everyone acclimated to walking with horses. It was a mess. One girl got stepped on, another almost caused a mare fight, squealing and bucking guaranteed, another guy had his saddle slip upside down. The instructors scrambled to fix these things and I stood there with my horse, quietly stroking his neck and staying out of the havoc. The instructors changed the goal, having only one person do the obstacle course at a time while the rest held their horses at an end of the arena.

The obstacle course was ok. It was kind of difficult to get him around the serpentine, I kept running into his neck turning him away from me, but it did go fairly well. Our trot transition was very smooth and we were some of the first to be released to go back and untack/turn back out. I got my "gold sticker" before leaving and was asked to sign up for a designated horse leading volunteer slot. I declined, mostly because Tuesdays were full and that was the only guaranteed day off from work I had managed to saueeze out lf my boss.

We had a follow up discussion after all of the horses had been put away, and only three people from the original group had stayed for it. Most people left in either a huff or defeat, but me, one of the community service guys and one of the horse owners were all there. We discussed what we thought of the training, any questions we had and reiterated the horse leader rules before they thanked us for our participation and sent us on our way. Watching others striggle as much as me or even more than me was a little confidence boost. I realized that I had a little better knowledge base than some, and was reminded that there was still plenty to learn, but that everyone started in the same place at the center, regardless of experience.

Which made the future look really exciting!
 
#31 ·
The next few Tuesdays were spent developing a routine. Out to the barn by eight, cleaning until nine or ten, whenever I happened to bump into Beth, watching her train for a while and, since I had been cleared to groom and tack up horses, I made myself available for instructors and other arena volunteers. Almost over night, my half-day of cleaning and watching Beth had turned into a solid 8 hour shift. I did it all, cleaning, cleaning waters, getting horses ready for classes, carrying tack between the arenas for instructors and lesson gear swaps. I started being relied on on Tuesdays, and when the first real cold streak came through, it was good I had developed my system.

Mid-November brought a nice little cold snap. It also canceled several lessons and scared off the usual number of volunteers. For three weeks in a row, I was the only barn team member showing up to clean despite the cold. It got to the point that staff busted out a metal rake and asked that I scrape the poop from the ground, and on one particularily cold Tuesday, even the staff from the front office had been recruited to clean stalls and runs while paddock horses were moved into any available stalls and teams of staff and myself took turns hand walking the horses around the arena to stretch their legs.

Those cold days were the hardest to get myself up and out the door. It was bitterly cold, snowy and the roads were icy. Tuesdays are my day off and on days lime that, younjust want to stay snuggled up under the covers with your dog and a good boom, or maybe sleep in. Plus, not owning any of those horses and not being paid for volunteerism (which they couldn't pay me for anyway) are good incentives not to go out there. I'm not staff, and it's not my responsibility. But regardless, I stuffed myself into layers, crammed myself into gaudy, thick boots, and reminded myself that I signed up for the role, and I couldn't leave them hanging.


On the days I got to help with hand walking to give my shoulders a break, Chris, the Barn manager, and a new person I hadn't met before ("Sam") gave me horse leading pointers. They corrected just a few things, like my position near the head and how close I was holding the lead rope. I was a little too far back and a little too close to the face with my hand, but apparently one of the better ones they had had. Sam explained that he was the head of equine management and well being but had been out of town, dealing with family issues for the last couple of months.

We chatted about our horse experiences. Of course both men had grown up in the saddle, Chris was the son of a rancher and had spent his entire life wrangling before he got fed up and left home for the city. He and his dad didn't talk much and he said he'd keel over if his dad ever found out he had landed with horses again. Sam had grown up in the show circuit, classically trained in English dressage before spendong twenty years on a ranch not unlike Chris' dad's. Both men were extremely well versed with horses. They asked my experience, saying I didn't act like their typical volunteer. I told them about my lesson situation and some various childhood memories. Then they asked what my goals were with horses, and that was where I hesitated.

I didn't tell them much, but I did mention aspiring to train in a mustang makeover as something to cross off the bucket list down the line. It slipped out when I had mentioned that I really admired our two resident Mustang therapists, and there was an awkward silence before both men just casually changed the topic. I knew it must sound insane. Training and becoming a trainer, especially one capable lf handling a makeover, is a surprisingly touchy and exclusive topic. Like I've said, I havn't been in the saddle since I was two and I wasn't raised with horses outside of the precious memories I have. People constantly remind me of that. And sure enough, Sam found me later to tell me that it was an admirable goal but to aim lower. 'You're not gonna be able to train without someone to teach you. It's a recipe for disaster.'

There was a lot I wanted to say to him. Like, 'I already know,' or 'it's just a thing on a bucket list,' or 'I didn't ask for your opinion,' or 'why don't you teach me then?' But I just nodded at him, thanked him for the advice and put the horse I was walking away. Just another Can't on my list. I couldn't believe I had let that slip!

By the time January had hit, we got into more managable temperatures, lessons came back and with lessons came Beth. It was nice to see her. Ever since having let slip the ambition of the makeover, certain folks wouldn't relent in calling me 'mustang girl' or asking about this years makeover and whether I'd be participating. Most were volunteers, usually people doing community service, but Sam did it too. It had been so discouraging that I was seriously considering just quitting volunteering at the center and give up on horses once and for all. Beth and I were grooming the chestnut, talking about the holidays, when a particularily mean community service guy came through and dropped a snide remark about the mustang thing. I sighed.

Beth asked me what that was about and so I told her. She scoffed, 'you're willing to learn and that's worth more than any childhood in the saddle!' She told me not to give up and encouraged taking some lessons to work toward the goal, but I explained the finances issue amd the fact that I still hadn't figured out moving the horses in their stalls, even after extensively studying videos online and trying to put it into practice. I told her, 'I'm not made of money, but I know how to work. I just wish there was someone out there willing to do a good old fashioned work exchange. But those just don't seem to exist in this world anymore.' She sighed wistfully and agreed, and we finished grooming in silence.

She was just mounting the chestnut when Sam and Chris walked into the arena. They talked for a minute about the horses she was on the process of working with and added a few more to her list for the day before Beth hit them up with the Mustang Girl rumor and putting a stop to it. They looked mildy amused while they yessed her to death and promised to bring it to the volunteer director's attention. Beth must have noticed the sarcasm in their voices, because she said, 'never mind, I'll take the issue to Dana myself, thanks though.' And with that, she looked st me and told me to to the front and ask for Dana to come to the arena.

Dana is the center's head of personnel, and apparently holds a considerable amount of authority. The minute both men saw her, their entire attitudes changed and they were suddenly squirmy pups trying to get away from her. Beth told her what happened, I confirmed the details, and then both of the men stammered to find a way out of their plight. It was awesome to watch! Dana took blth of them to her office and, I'm not sure what happened, but I got apologies and havn't had any issues since. I thanked Beth and she only smiled, 'don't give up quite yet. You never know who you might run into!'

I realizd that day that Beth was becoming a friend and someone I really looked up to. She often encouraged me and gave me boosts of confidence, though I still didn't understand why. Our friendship had blossomed after she up and decided to start inviting me to watch her train, even without knowing me! I made sure to thank her for the support and friendship, and she gave me a hug, saying it was her pleasure.
 
#32 · (Edited)
"I hate people," how many times have you heard, thought or said that or something similar? Working in retail, one of the variations has happened at least once a day, and more often than not, more than once. Working retail gave me a healthy reality of just how mich people suck. There are the creepy pervs, parents who should be slapped for their ignorance, children who genuinely deserve a spanking, everything in between. There's exteeme couponers and bamboozlers, people who try to scrimp and save every penny they think they can take you for, the 'I wanna see your manager' fiends. They all suck. Most make folks question humanity and whether it still exists.

The other day, I was walking relatively closely behind a woman who didn't even consider whether someone was behind her, and didn't hold the door. I almost got smacked in the face with a door heavy enough to break a nose, and she wouldn't have known any better. 'Not my problem,' she'd think to herself. 'I hate people...' I thought. And, as I was raised to do, I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one would receive the same fate. There was a little old man coming, he was far enough away that I didn't have to do anything, but I stood by the door, glancing at my phone so he wouldn't feel rushed. As he drew nearer, I put my phone away and held the door open for him. He stopped, stared at me and pointed at himself. 'You're not holding that for me...? Young lady, your generation doesn't have those kind of manners.'

Really?

How many times had that man been ignored, how many doors had he taken to the face? He had a veteran's hat on, so not only does "my generation" not have those manners, they don't value those who served our country. Not a groundbreaking discovery, but one that only emphasized my loathing of the general population. I pushed those thoughts aside, gave him a smile and gestured for him to go through. 'It's my pleasure sir.' Then, much to my surprise, the little old man, who was undoubtedly more of a badass than I will ever be, wiped a tear away, gave me a hug, and strode through. He stood just a little taller in the walk.

Naturally, there are exceptions to the rule. There are genuinely good kids raised by genuinely good people, and there are kods who come out of pretty gnarly situations with exceptional manners and an almost overwhelming politeness. The problem is that the exceptions are few and far between if they're not congregated in one general location, and many of the 'bad apples' either deny their behavior, aren't smart enough to realize that it's *them* we speak about, or just don't care. A bigger part of the problem is that it's not just one generation that has rude, self-centered and conceited people. I notice a lot of 'millenial' bashing over their idiotic behavior, immaturity and self-entitled natures (especially among the older of the generation) but the thing is that the behavior had to come from somewhere. Especially in the US, where educational standards plummeted, television and especially cartoons became babysitters, and the rebelious generation under generation X were responsible for their upbringing. I'm not saying millenials are perfectly innocent, far from, but no generation truly is. It's the nature of the human race.

So why do I document this thought?

Well, after the 'mustang girl' incident, I became very withdrawn at the center and very unnenthisastic about the whole thing in general. It took a few weeks to go back to trying to move the horses around with body language and assertion of pressure. I had been working with Star, the mare I had the most trouble with when Beth startled me. 'You're too far forward, move toward her hip and quit looking at her face. Look where you want her to go, give her an escape route.'

I had been exceptionally irritable that morning, reflecting on how much people sucked and being frustrated over wasting those four years at that so-called lesson barn. It took everything in my mind to swallow my pride and follow her directions without snapping at her. Beth was a friend and I didn't want to hurt the relationship. Sure enough, as I took a step toward the hip and stared out the run door, Star moved. Not much, just a shift in the weight, but it was movement all the same. 'Good, now turn your torso away from her. Facing her squarely like that defeats the purpose of looking where you want her to go.'

I did, turing slightly sideways and pointing my chest the same way I was looking. I asked again, clucking at Star, bringing my hand up behind her hip to generate motion. Star moved! Rather than the burst of a trot she had given me all that time ago, she ambled out of the stall as easily as Frank had done. I beamed, thanking Beth for the pointers. 'Star is different from these other horses. She's more sensitive to the energy we create with our bodies and what you ask of her. A lot of the horses out here are so used to ignoring the volunteers that it's almost impossible to move them very far without an aid of some kind. If you want to practice moving their feet, she's your best bet.' And with that, Beth left. I reflected on what she had said while I shifted Star's shavings. So the horses ignored the volunteers? Makes sense, a lot of the volunteers had never been around horses. Any animal you let get away with a behavior will continue to do it because that's what *they* want to do. I tried pushing Star two more times, with varying success, before moving on with the other stalls.

Turns out Beth had a point. Most of the horses were very glued to their spots, almost blatantly ignoring even the loudest clucks, most deliberate body position, and even direct pressure of a hand on the rear. No wonder I was having such a hard time figuring it out! By ten, I had a huge number of stalls and went to watch Beth. A tall man in a huge cowboy hat that I didn't recognize was watching her work a paint horse I vaguely recognized as Risky. They chatted casually about stuff that Risky was doing and went right over my head when suddenly, Beth stopped Risky and pointed over the man's shoulder at me. 'Larry, this is the girl I told you about.'

Me? I shot her a look but she only smirked as she urged her horse on. Larry turned around and met me with a huge hand shake. 'Tap, I presume? I've heard a lot of good about you!'

Uh.. Great, I've heard nothing about you. That's what I wanted to say, but instead, 'it's nice to meet you, sir. I'm afraid I haven't heard much about you..'
"Ah, likely not. I'm Larry. I train horses up at my place, ol' Risky here used to be my best horse. I come see 'im every now and again. I heard he's gotten lazy with his manners."
"Beth and I were just talking about that."
"So I hear. I also hear you got pretty big ambitions for a city girl?"
Beth! How could you do this to me? You know how much ridicule I've faced, I don't need a horse trainer telling me I can't too! But instead... "Yes sir, but it's more of a bucket list type thing. I spent a lot of time and money learning nothing and have to start all over."
"What if I told you I could help?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Well lessons, of course. I can teach people too."
"That's a wonderful offer but I can't-"
"No, no money. Beth mentioned a financial hard spot. You clean stalls right?"
"She burns them more like, never met a faster or more thorough cleaner!"
"How'd you feel earning your keep? You give me 8 hours of your time, I give you one of mine."

Well that took a turn in an unpredictable direction. I was so excited! I reeled myself in though, and it was arranged to have an orientation type tour of his facilities the coming Saturday, my next day off. His place was pretty close to the facility and we agreed that I needed to see what kind of place I'd be working in before accepting his offer. After he left and Beth finished with Risky, I gave her a massive hug and asked how I could repay her. She smiled, hugged me back.

"Just get yourself into the makeover some day."

The rest of that day was such a blur - there was so much to think about. Who was Larry, where had he come from, how were he and Beth friends? How well did he train, would he be an acceptable coach? Would he be better than my previous experience? Was he going to honor his own deal? Was he just out to screw me over? I wouldn't find out for a few days.

And so, I realized on this day, maybe I don't hate people after all.
I hate people with poor manners and a general lack of consideration.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
You have insufficient privileges to reply here.
Top