Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I managed to make it to the barn on Sunday having invited a guest to stop by. The day before was beautiful, mild and the sun was shining, but could I get out there? No. Sunday is overcast and windy which is the norm at the barn. This part of Delaware is extremely flat and delivers many days an arctic chill but come summer it is a welcome breeze. I introduce all the horses in the barn to my guest and then we spend some time grooming Lady and Wyatt while they munch on their hay. When the brushing's done I get the western saddle, look at my horses and their backs and hips which are no longer the same healthy landscape of gradual curving dips and swells, but have taken on a harder and more angular terrain that speaks of a harsher environment. Unhappy that their now less than perfect life has begun to show in their conformation, I make a quick decision to use the english saddle instead, even though it means lugging the western all the way back to my tack locker. I return with the lighter and very cheap english saddle and proceed to tack Wyatt up in it. He is antsy and impatient, pawing and curling his head around towards me and making a snapping sound with his teeth as I begin to tighten the girth. When he's feeling good or satified with life he doesn't do this. There was a time we worked on this habit he'd had before I became his owner and this reaching and snapping had ceased altogether with time and better care. Now, I'm getting unhappier by the minute because I know the source of his behavior and unless I'm at the barn 24/7, there's nothing I can do quickly to remedy the current situation that has brought this about.

The horses have not been happy nor content themselves of late and I'll not state the specific reasons here for the time being, but generally, horses pick up on the human factor and the mood that prevails around the barn on any given day. There's no strange magic to this; horses read us through our actions and demeanor anytime wer're around them. When the people who are responsible for the overall care for horses on a daily basis are tense, or in a difficult personal situation, it can effect the continuity of care the horses are used to. A change in routine due to a human element such as this effects the horses general well-being and is interpreted in their behavior very quickly. I suppose at some deeper level they can read our minds due to the heightened insight and awareness of lower animals (don't forget, we are part of the animal kingdom too). But without going into a long scientific discussion of same, lets just say that things are not good all around for my horses and their friends and they have their way of telling me through their behavior and general body language. Now it's more than that, it is becoming a nutritional issue that shouldn't even play a role in a place where people know better. Knowing this, and putting a saddle on Wyatt's back when he's been upset makes me feel like shit. As a consolation, I decide I won't use a bridle and bit today, we don't need to work on refinement, we''ll just work on some things for his benefit using the rope halter and lead combo--I can give him that much. I send Lady out to the larger paddock to hang out and pick along the ground for tidbits of grass while we finish with Wyatt--which I know adds to Wyatt's irritation--why does Lady get all the breaks? Of course Lady is younger and clueless. She only knows to live for the moment. Anything that's past is over and done with. I think Wyatt hates that about her--being that carefree.

I had my guest lead Wyatt out and then we let him meander over to the growing winter manure pile where he proceeds to climb up in his goat like fashion and look for a stash of leftover hay. I now have my fancy carrot stick with the plastic bag on the end and Lady in the rope halter and we review some groundwork-- a few "parelli games" while I explain what I'm doing and why. Most of the time I have Lady's attention, but considering what's been going on in their environment, she has been less attentive when I work with her. Regardless, we work through the inattention. I would have saddled her up and we would have worked on some things while I'm mounted, but I just couldn't bring myself to make her wear the big heavy western saddle either after all the weight she's lost. Some people involved with horses wouldn't consider this a big issue, the horse is a beast of burden and must do what we tell them regardless of the circumstances--not meaning people who think this way don't take good care of their horses, but I believe if I expect quality results, then my horses care should be of the best quality and their basic needs met before I place demands on them or blame for poor performance. You reap what you sow is my motto. As a boarder, this has been briefly out of my control so I am not the original instigator of this and I am trying to hold back my anger over this situation, because a this point it could only make things worse--of course to let this happen on an ongoing basis does stick me with being culpable to some extent. Getting back to the saddle/riding issue anyway, why in the world would I want to teach my horse that riding is an uncomfortable task best to avoid? I want a responsive horse with a willing attitude and for us to experience the mutual benefits riding can bring. This is not just the sentiment of the recreational horse world and gimmicky natural horsemanship guru's of today, but written about much much earlier in the interest of good horsemanship by the greek generalXenophon of 360 B.C.E.

I give Wyatt on the end of a lead rope to my guest, and we bring Lady and Wyatt into the indoor arena, basically a wood and aluminum structure on the ground with a base of limestone and dirt type footing added on top. Not meaning to say it is not nice, because it is, but in the Delaware winds it seems a little rickety and insubstantial. We work a little more despite the wind whistling through the doors and rattling the roof and whatnot. I let Lady loose to mosey around but after being pent up most of the day she just wants to play, which consists of an animated trot in and out of the arena, back again, then ending at the barn entrance which I had blocked with a wheel barrow. She doesn't like this at all, and she does her kooky arabian dance, frustrated that she's being prevented from delightfully ripping gobs of hay from the bale near the aisle, and, if she begins to lack confidence being out alone, she can't retreat to her stall for safety. While she's busy telling the wheel barrow off in her horse way, snorting at it and stomping, I tell my guest while the romping is fun for her, it's made the environment unsafe for any hapless boarders who may stop by. My guest offers to take her her back to her stall while I wait with Wyatt in the arena.

As things are getting settled down, I get on Wyatt having made a hackamore out of the rope halter and lead, and we work on small maneuvers in the paddock while I wait for my guest to return. We ride back into the area to do some trotting and loosening up as my guest follows to watch. Wyatt does not misbehave in any fashion while I am riding, but when I am done and back on the ground he feels the need to express his irritability--with his teeth! He actually nips my guests palm! [who had his hand on to near his mouth, for too long, but still!] Well no matter how Wyatt feels, that was inappropriate and I take him to task on that--I chastise him verbally, something along the lines of "Bad, bad, no hand held treats for you today!" as I back him up away from us and we stand there for a moment having our quiet think-about-what-you-did time. I could tell Wyatt was not really sorry about what he'd done as his demeanor didn't look all that contrite; his eye did not go completely soft, a little more on the squinty side, a kind of justified half-stare, saying, "I 'm glad I did it. You're not listening to how mad I am and I'm willing to accept the consequences of my actions just to get my point across." But, yes, I know he got the message of my displeasure, because he and I know each other that well.

After this, I proceed to coerce my guest to get on him and take a ride, having already apologized over and over for him like you would if your kid did something outrageous and uncharacteristic, telling him that it was unusual for Wyatt to do anything really mean, and if he'd wanted it too, it could have included blood and gore. In that, he got off easy. Anyway, my guest is mounted and a natural as riding goes, He's been around horses a lot more than your average person, has had a few lessons--good ones, and Wyatt is attentive to his cueing once I tell him he doesn't need the constant pressure of a tight rein to remain in control. The ride is brief, but Wyatt was able work some of the kinks out and in general, I believe he felt better after being ridden. We leave the arena, patting and loving on Wyatt to thank him, remove the saddle, then release him in the paddock so he can do his favorite thing while we put away the horse junk in the barn, hang out and graze freely in the open air, unencumbered momentarily by the demands of that confusing and downright pesky human species. From time to time like I always do, I take long glances at Wyatt being Wyatt through the view allowed from the half-closed panel door of the barn. I'm thinking there is nothing like watching a happy satisfied horse enjoying himself in such a simple way. I'm thankful he includes me as a member of his band, and in return I can give him the opportunity for his pleasure. Wyatt has been around enough to know the rules of the game--"Make the right way easy and the wrong way hard," [perhaps incorrectly attributed to Tom Curtain, by one of my friends very experienced in natural horsemanship, but more than likely, Ray Hunt or Tom Dorrance said it, I just can't remember at the moment] .--he may test this with me, but only to make sure I'm remembering my part of the bargain. kst