the darkest hour is just before dawn

Over the years, when working with young horses I've seen a lot of interesting things. Horses never cease to amaze me. They never cease to teach me new things. And they keep reminding me how little I know and how much more I need to work on my own self control. But that's a topic for another post :-)

There is one observation I've made quite often during the progression of turning a green (unridden) horse into a happy mount. Progress isn't linear. Some days I make a little headway, some days I can do three steps in one session and the horse is happy and relaxed. Other days, there is no progress and we both do well just to go over yesterday's lesson. Oh, and then there are those days when there is an obvious regression. That is when stuff I have gone over already, which the horse seemed OK with, suddenly isn't "there" any more. I have to be content with finding something from a much earlier lesson which I can reward the horse for doing well, so that we can finish on a good note.

Those days are frustrating. Most likely not totally pleasant for the horse, as he is evidently worried about every little thing and can't relax. But most definitely, they are frustrating for me as the horse's trainer and mentor. Firstly, there is the job of having to think of ways to not escalate any issues that emerge. Secondly, it's about looking for alternative ways to make the horse comfortable in what he is asked to do, and that calls for a fair bit of creativity on those days. Sometimes the regression isn't from the horse being spooked or upset. I've seen it happen in headstrong horses, who decided that today isn't the day to cooperate. I've also seen it as something that arises from outside circumstances, which meant that no matter how much I try, I can't get the horse's attention from the other exciting stuff out there.

Just as there can be no meaningful progress if the horse is scared, there can also be none if the horse has a different agenda or can't focus due to distractions. To get somewhere, the horse has to be OK in mind and body, with a willing attitude and me in the centre of his attention.

Well, some days it doesn't matter how good my intentions are. I just can't create that mindset. That being so, I really just like to do some basics and find a thing or two which I know the horse can do ok. Then I give praise and put them away. I will admit that I bitch and grizzle about it, because my inner perfectionist would like to see at least some progress EVERY training session. And so it was yesterday when we brought in the two geldings we currently have in work. It was (in my eyes) an abysmal session. They were flighty, scatterbrained, seemed to have forgotten most things and on top of it, seemed grumpy. I was grossly disappointed in what we achieved.

We all went and slept on it.

As so often in the past, today was a totally different matter. Both horses had a totally different attitude. Their facial expression, their posture indicated they were good to go. It was as though they had had a discussion about it overnight. Or rather, as though there were different horses in their skin. They looked keen, they were relaxed, they responded to tiny cues. The one time one of them was spooked (justified), he jumped and then stopped and settled immediately. We made huge progress. Both ended up going off the lunge, one of them for the first time. And did it well.

I could feel the different attitude and preparedness to work through the reins, and through the saddle.

Let me explain that.... Reins are sort of obvious, as one can feel if there is a give to a half halt or any other cue straight away. The quality of that little give is also important. There is just a different feel. I jokingly talk of butter sometimes. When things are perfect, it's like soft butter. (Accordingly, resistance feels like hard butter, or even frozen butter ;-) .)  There is also a different feel through the saddle. That includes whether the horse is relaxing the topline and seeking a bit of stretch. But it's more than that. When tense, it's not just the top neck and back muscles that are tense, but it also seems to be the whole skin. The saddle feels to be strapped to the back and it feels firm and unyielding and stuck. When relaxed in the right way, muscles and skin tone are different, allowing the saddle to feel a bit more loose. Not loose as in: loose girth, but loose as in: more movable, an organic part of the back and therefore a connection between me and the horse.

Honestly, it's a bit of a difficult thing to describe, and it took me some years to develop the sensitivity to feel it, and then some more time to come to realise just how important all this is. The next step is to try to create it in all my horses, all the time. That is not possible of course, but that's the goal.

Picture (by Yvonne Lehey): Castellano during one of last week's sessions. I asked for a stop. It's not too square, but his topline is soft, he's let out a big sigh and is lowering his head. That's the moment we reward, although of course, he is rewarding himself already.

The lesson learned for me here is that I should not be too harsh, but to accept that we all (horses included!) have 'off' days. This is no blemish on my record as a trainer nor on the horse's training diary. Rather, it is part of the overall progression, and it makes me appreciate the big progress days even more. Sometimes, the biggest problems occur just before the biggest steps forward. Sometimes, we just have to believe in ourselves, and keep working towards a goal. If the underlying principles are correct, then the goal will be reached, and often sooner than expected.

Out of the three horses we worked this morning, every one of them made me proud. To celebrate, I'm going to reward myself with going horse riding this afternoon :-)

glossary additions

Today's instalments :-)

expert = person who knows everything, tells everyone that he knows everything, doesn't need to learn anything. Often an expert will tell you that he did //insert activity here// when you weren't even born, to show you how experienced he is. You are not allowed to notice that after all that time, he's still not doing it properly. Experts are numerous at horse sales, other gatherings of horse people and of course on internet forums and on youtube.

pussy-footsy = person with romantic notions about horses and their handling and riding, usually convinced that ALL can be achieved with endless patience and lots of patting. Doesn't mind spending 5 years trying to teach a horse to headshake on command, and doesn't mind being dragged, trodden on or wiped off by a horse. Talks about riding more than riding. Engages in endless hours of internet forum exchanges about teaching horses stuff and loves to opine on perceived wrongdoings of other horse people.

horse hugger = pussy footsy. Adapted from the term tree hugger.

purple ant(s) = imaginary monster lurking in forests, tall grass or behind objects, particularly dangerous if they tap dance or show their fangs. Only visible to horses.

intimate zone (aka the horse's ethic space) = any part of the horse which it doesn't like to have touched. Mostly the girl or boy bits, but especially in horses with the princess syndrome, this can be anywhere on the body. According to some pussy-footsies, horse trainers must respect and stay out of those zones.

keyboard rider = person who spends much more time on a keyboard in forum discussions about riding than on a horse. Adapted from the term "keyboard warrior" which describes the know it alls in martial arts who type much and fight never.

Festina lente

German: Eile mit Weile
English: Haste without Waste

If ever there was a maxim that applies to horse education, this is it!

What is a horse owner's first question when sending a horse for starting to a trainer? A wise trainer will reply that it takes as long as it takes, because it depends on the horse.

Haste in training usually leads us to not giving the horse enough time to be OK with things or to skip necessary steps altogether. We miss the little signs that should tell us the horse is not OK, and consequently we push the horse too much mentally. We can also push a young horse too much physically. But I believe that the horse's mind is the most important thing. He needs time to learn new things. Familiarization with new signals, objects, situations, learning the 'correct' response and then refinement is what are involved in the learning process. If we skimp on any of those steps, the learning process isn't happening the way we wish. Or maybe even worse, the horses learns something we don't want him to learn, for example that a situation is scary and he should bail out, simply because we haven't given him enough time to look at and digest the experience the first time.

Once we've created a problem by rushing through steps, then we have two jobs instead of one. Before any more learning can take place, some unlearning has to take place. Once a horse has learned that stepping onto a board is scary, you have to break down all the fear barriers in his mind first before anything else can progress. Only then can you ask him to engage his mind and give it a go.

So instead of asking him to put all four feet on the board in one session, allow him to get used to the hollow sound of the board, and maybe end the session when he touches the board with one foot. Next session he might put his weight on it. He may even volunteer the other front foot. And so on. And in a matter of a few short sessions, each of which will be a few minutes, he will confidently walk onto and stand on the board.

Is that not a better investment of your time than pushing him hard to get all feet in place in your first session, which he will probably not manage anyway? And next time back, he looks at the board with suspicion because last time he was near it, you put a lot of pressure on him. So it takes nearly as long as the first time, and he won't be keen on the idea even next session.

So what took longer?

Oh yes, I've been down both roads. And I can honestly say that in the end, taking the time it takes, takes less time than not taking the time it takes. He, that was fun to write and if it's not a tongue twister, it's close to a mind bender ;-) But you get the idea.

I see this in working with horses all the time. The youngsters which come for starting vary enormously in the time they require to absorb and be OK with various things. And there are times, even now, where I could tear my hair out thinking we are not progressing. But we go one little step at a time. Some days we even do less than the day before, because that's what the horse tells us he's happy with. We quit when the horse is OK, and because of this, in due course, usually very soon, the day comes where you know you can ask more.

Because the horse is always OK, you have solid foundations which you are building on. So when you get to what I call a sticky spot (let's say: a scary dog out of the bushes the first time you take the youngster out on the trail), the horse only has to concentrate on that, because he is OK with everything else. If your foundations are insufficient, this is the time you'll know about it. If your horse props because of the dog, and he's OK, he won't mind that you also make a little involuntary move in the saddle, and your reassuring hand and voice will calm down the rest of his unease. But if your horse isn't quite OK, then maybe the bounce he starts which bounces you in the saddle is just enough reason to go into mental meltdown, and next thing you are right in the middle of a western moment.

So take the time it takes with your youngsters, they will thank you for it. You will thank yourself for it, too.

Festina lente.