Here We Go Again

Here We Go Again

I have spent a lot of time bragging about how wonderful a horse Dante is and how perfect he is for Ellen.  All of it is true, except for this time of year.

It seems that when Dante doesn’t get ridden outside for a while, he turns to the darkside.  He gets so bad that it is a challenge to even lead him outside.  consequently, Ellen just relies on the inside arena to exercise him.  He is fine in there.  Where some horses get hyper in very cold weather, Dante is the same consistent Dante he always is when he is inside the 4 walls of the arena.

It would help if he could be turned loose to play outside on a regular basis in the winter, but we battle ice so much—including in the turnout area this time of year.  We are reluctant to use it for turnout when it is frozen with deep divots—everywhere—and sections that are all ice.  Maybe we seem overly cautious, but we personally know of 2 people whose horses had to be put down from breaking their legs in conditions like that.  If we get loads of snow, it would be fine for turnout—but this hasn’t been a year with a lot of snow.  We do turn the boys out to play in the indoor arena, quite often.  Cole will run around like a nut.  Dante—not so much.  He doesn’t see the point.

Our other horses would get excited when they haven’t been outside much, but not like Dante.  I couldn’t trail ride Cruiser in the winter until he was 6 years old.  He would get so would up, riding him was like riding a stick of dynamite.  But as he got older, he would at least walk on a loose rein like a gentleman when we got outside.  Trotting was crazy for at least a month, but walking was fine.  Ranger was similar, but not as extreme as Cruiser.  Mingo—he was great.  Since he was such a quiet horse to begin with, in the spring he would liven up and become the horse I always wanted him to be.

Starry has never been a problem.  Cole was a little difficult the first spring I had him, but he has never been pretty good, since.  When the weather locks us in for a while, he isn’t much different when I get him back out than he is in the summer—and he is a very, very spirited horse.  Cole should be our problem horse; not Dante.  Dante is a quiet horse—but if he is stuck inside for a week or two, we are stuck with re-familiarizing him with the great outdoors.  At his age, (9), you would think he would be done with this.

Keep in mind, Dante broke Ellen’s ankle when she was leading him.  She gets very nervous if he misbehaves while she leads him.  This puts the responsibility on me.

I was hoping that this year, due to maturity, he may be different.  A few weeks ago, we had some mild weather, and Ellen rode him in the arena.  When she was done, she gave him to me to take outside.  We weren’t 10 feet out the door when he got excited and started bouncing around like a colt.  We quit after a few minutes.  Just as I was afraid of, he wasn’t going to be any different this year.

We then had some cold weather, so we gave up for a while.  When it got warmer, Ellen started his outside therapy.  After his rides, she would bring him outside and stand him in one place—clicking for good behavior.

Last weekend was really nice, and since it is getting closer to spring, it seemed like it was time to get serious about re-acclimating him to the great outdoors.

Friday evening, I had Kevin chase him around in the indoor arena.  He actually did a lot of running and playing for a change.  The next day, Ellen rode him in the arena—mostly trotting.  With any of our other horses, this would have set us up for success.

When she was done with her ride, she rode out the arena and to the loop in the back of the property.  I was right there by her side.  She got all the way to the farthest point of the barn and dismounted—handing the reins to me.  She has a halter bridle, so I clipped the reins on the halter part so I could lead him around.

He started out good.  As we continued walking around the loop, I told her that I knew what would happen when we made it around the corner to start the second loop.  I have been through this before with Dante.  I figured he would throw a temper tantrum when I ask him to go around the loop again.

Now this is the horse that Ellen rode on the loop all fall—even into December—with not a problem.  There is no reason for temper tantrums.  Why does this happen with him?

I hoped that if I acted like he would be a perfect gentleman, he would pick it up my demeanor and actually do just that.  It didn’t help.  We made it around the corner, and he threw a temper tantrum.  He barged forward, tried to turn around, stomped his front feet and was generally—well—awful.  I thought, “Here we go, again.”  When he tried to turn towards home, I just circled him back the way I wanted to go and worked with him to settle down.  By the time we got to the next corner, he was fine.  He gave up and was going to do another loop.

Of course, he was good all the way around—until we got to tantrum corner.  The second time, he threw a temper tantrum, but it was much smaller.  He was back to normal by the next corner and all the way around.

I decided to do one more lap.  Ellen was going to click him and give him—not a carrot, but a peppermint if he was good.  He didn’t immediately throw a tantrum, but he was pushy and rude, so he didn’t get the peppermint.  A little way further, there was a big gust of wind that blew at the arena gate and electric wire that startled him.  He gave a big spook and then went into a tantrum.  Cole and Ranger have both spooked at that in the past, so we couldn’t hold it against him, but he wouldn’t settle down.  I just couldn’t get him to walk quietly.  Then, Ellen realized that it was the construction at the barn that was getting to him.  They started using a nail gun.  He was jumping each time.  Once we realized what was going on, we decided it was time to quit.  He was awful leading back to the barn, too.

Dante has a pattern with his behavior.  If he followed his pattern, I figured we would have one very bad day on the loop, and the next day will be significantly better.  If we could do a third consecutive day, on that day, he would be perfect.

The next day, Ellen rode him in the indoor arena, again.  Since we had had a thaw, we then decided to turn him loose in the outdoor arena to roll and play.  Then, we would take the big, sloppy mess, formerly known as Dante, for a walk on the loop.

Thanks to the run, he skipped a day in his pattern of behavior.  He was perfect on the second day.  He got plenty of praise and clicks with treats—even peppermints on tantrum corner.  We were so glad to have our old Dante back.

The big question—with a week between walks, would he revert to the Dante of the Darkside?

The Challenges of Riding Starry D.

The Challenges of Riding Starry D.

Kevin will not be able to ride Starry much for the next week or so, so he offered Lisa a chance to work with him.  Lisa recently lost her horse and is looking for a new one, and he thought she might like to do some riding, in the meantime.

Lisa confesses that she is not a winter trail rider, and the trail is where Starry shines.  The arena is another story, and that is where Lisa plans to spend her time with Starry.

Kevin simply doesn’t ride Starry in the arena, ever.  Kevin also doesn’t school Starry in the finer points of riding.  Essentially, he is a 15-year-old, green-broke horse.  They just go out on the trail and have fun.  It works for both of them, and they are happy and safe.  That is what matters.  It doesn’t make it easy for someone to ride Starry in the arena, though.  My niece has struggled with Starry in there, so I knew what Lisa was in for.

Kevin arranged a test ride for them on an evening that I planned to ride Cole in the arena.  When I arrived at the barn, Lisa was already plodding around with Starry.  I asked if she had trotted, yet, and she said she was just about ready to try.

As I mentioned in the past, Starry has the worst trot—ever.  It is not just really bouncy.  If it was, posting would solve that problem instantly.  Starry’s trot is bouncy and uneven.  It is very hard to get the rhythm.  Kevin finds the best way to even out his trot is to encourage him to go fast.  Of course, going fast is the last thing Starry wants to do in the arena.  In fact, Starry would prefer to not go, at all.

I got to see Lisa’s first attempt at the trot, and she was able to post, but she said it was hard for her.  Starry didn’t get very far, and he started walking.  I suggested trying to post on the very first beat.  It helps Ellen and me when we ride him.

I then left and saddled up Cole.  Kevin went to clean the stalls, giving Lisa some time to herself with Starry.

When I brought Cole in, Lisa was struggling to get Starry to trot.  When he did, he would go about 5 steps and quit.  That’s about how her whole ride with him went.  I did explain that Kevin typically asks Starry to trot by a light tap with the whip instead of using his legs, and Starry may not truly grasp that a leg squeeze is a cue to trot.  Kevin brought out the whip, but that didn’t help, much. 

I suggested tapping his flank instead of by his leg, like you are supposed to, because that is what Kevin does.  Kevin heard this and was dismayed.  He didn’t know you are supposed to tap by your leg.  I explained that it helps reinforce the leg cue, but since Kevin doesn’t use a leg cue, it doesn’t really matter.  Besides, it really doesn’t matter much what cues are used as long as you horse understands what you want.  The only complication comes when someone else rides your horse and doesn’t know which buttons to press.

By now, Lisa could get Starry to trot, but he didn’t stay trotting.  It is hard to say that Starry was stopping out of laziness or stopping because Lisa was struggling to post to his difficult trot.  I did point out that Starry hates to pass another horse on the trail and take the lead.  Sure enough, he would stop whenever he approached Cole.

At one point, I was trotting Cole and heard Starry behind us—coming fast.  I didn’t know what was going on, so I stopped Cole and looked back to see Starry walking.  Lisa told me he went after the Princess, the tyrant barn cat.  I yelled to Kevin that Starry was being bad.  He came rushing in—in a panic.  When I told him what happened, he relaxed—he thought Starry was really bad.  He wasn’t worried about Princess.

Lisa asked if Starry understood he should walk faster when asked, and I explained that he is a naturally slow horse who only walks fast when he is bothered by bugs.

I could tell, through the frustration, that Lisa was still having fun.  I asked her if she felt safe on Starry, and sure enough, she did.  Starry is a wonderfully safe horse.  Sure, all horses have their moments, but Starry’s are few and far between.  That’s the best thing about Starry, and I am so glad that he’s Kevin’s horse.  They take great care of each other.

Their ride ended, and I suggested that Lisa may want to take some Tylenol.  He makes us very sore when we ride him.  Then I realized—they probably didn’t trot enough to make her sore, after all.  It could be a blessing!

The Super, Ever-Amazing Cole Train!

The Super, Ever-Amazing Cole Train!

The other day, I decided to warm Cole up in the indoor arena while Ellen got Ranger ready for his walk outside.  We were going to walk down to the river and then do some laps on the loop.  It was a sunny, but still chilly morning.  I figured if I trotted around inside, first, I would be warmer and Cole would be more settled for Ranger’s constitutional.

When I brought Cole into the arena, the owner of the pony, Ranger’s little girlfriend, was being lounged for a couple prospective owners. 

This is the first time I have ever ridden with the pony in the arena.  There is nothing like an audience to bring out the show pony in Cole Train.  He pranced into the arena and immediately parked out when I stopped to close the door.  This is normal, but it attracted the attention of the woman who was watching the pony.  She wanted to know what kind of horse he was.  Cole immediately stretched out further.  Then, he took a bow.  I was feeling bad because he was taking attention from the pony during her sales presentation, so I ended the display by hopping on him and riding into the arena.

Cole went right into his silly walk.  The pony’s owner commented on it.  He stepped higher.  I clicked him and treated him---explaining that he teaches himself tricks, I encourage them and then later regret them.  We started to walk,  and when he did his silly walk, I rewarded him by rubbing his withers.  That is how I acknowledge him without encouraging him to do it, again.  He then walked like a normal horse around the arena.

Attention was focused back on the pony, as it should be.  Now, was the time for me to warm up with a trot.    I usually start with a series of transitions with clicks to test his mood and get his focus, but I knew I didn’t have much time before Ranger was ready, so I went right into serious trotting.  I’ve mentioned Cole’s big show trot in the past, and of course he jumped right into it.  He usually does, but he isn’t always consistent in the beginning about keeping it going.  He typically has to do a bunch of snorts before he can really work—but not this time—he had an audience.  His show trot kept getting bigger and more flashy.  I asked for some circles—and they were perfectly round!  I couldn’t believe it.  We were “on” in a big way.  I would click him periodically and give him a carrot—wishing I had peppermints, instead.  Cole had his most amazing 10 minutes in his life.

I glanced over at his audience, and no one was looking.  All eyes were on the pony.  Ellen was in the barn with Ranger.  No one knew about Cole’s spectacular ride except me.

Wait, there was someone watching—the pony.  Is it possible that Cole’s intended audience all along had four legs, not two?  If so, he gave her quite a performance, and I hope she was as impressed as I was.  For he is the Super, Ever-Amazing Cole Train!

Wasting Time

Wasting Time

Back last fall, when I ran out of daylight in the evenings for trail riding, I was very reluctant to ride in the indoor arena.  Instead, I rode laps on the quarter mile loop in the back of our stable’s property.  Round and round we went—some trotting when we were going away from the barn—and a lot of walking—all in the dark.

A few times, it was rainy, and I had to ride in the arena.  Cole was excited and difficult—and he made me very nervous.  We have a history of bolting when we are in the far end of the arena.  Though we have worked through the problem long ago, each year we have to review it.  The first few weeks of riding can be tough on my nerves, and this year, I just tried to avoid it as much as I could.  I would have one day in the arena, and then as soon as the weather got better, I would be back out on the loop, around and around.

By December, I realized I had to tackle the problem.  The weather was still unseasonably warm.  I would ride 10-15 minutes inside, and then I would dash outside to ride around the loop.

To keep from getting bored—particularly on the walking sections of the loop,  I would practice shoulder-in and leg yielding.  We have always had trouble with leg yielding because Cole morphed it into side-passing.  He preferred to go directly sideways to going sideways and forward at an angle.  The loop was helpful because I would ask him to do it when we were heading in the direction of the barn.  He had motivation to go forward instead of directly sideways.  Of course, he got clicked for it. 

Shoulder-in on the loop worked well, too, because he has a tendency to drift instead of go in a straight line with a nice curve in his body.  Parts of the track have trees on one side and a ditch on the other.  I would position him in such a way that the trees or the ditch would stop him from drifting.  Of course, he got clicked for good shoulder-in’s, too.

By January, the weather got rather cold, and it wasn’t so pleasant on the loop, anymore.  I had to buckle down and really start working in the arena on a regular basis.  Sometimes, I couldn’t even get Cole outside on the weekends because of the weather, too.  I had to get serious about training.

It only took a few rides to get totally acclimated to the arena since we had integrated some short sessions in the previous month.  After a week or so, we were able to calmly travel all about the arena without Cole misbehaving (bolting) or me feeling nervous because I thought he might misbehave.

And then the amazing thing happened.  I asked for a shoulder-in at a trot—and he did it better than he did last winter when we quite arena riding—both directions!  Even his leg yielding was leg yielding instead of side-passing.  It is far from perfect, but it is a great starting point.  This includes walking and trotting.   Out on the loop, I only practiced at a walk.

So, maybe I wasn’t wasting time, after all.

Snow Plow Stormy

My sister's cat, Stormy, is no sissy cat.  He won't let a little snow ruin his day!

Everyone has a Bad Day, Sometimes

Everyone has a Bad Day, Sometimes

This weekend, the weather was mild and I wanted to go on a trail ride.  Ellen thought the river would be too high, and it wasn’t worth the trouble to just go up and down the hill a few times.  I just wanted to get out.  She thought Dante would misbehave because he hadn’t been on trail in a while.  I told her she could have Cole.  Ellen relented, and I got to prove to her that Dante would be just fine, and that her worries were unwarranted.

We led the horses down the street to the trail.  Once we got to the mounting block, we heard a chainsaw a few houses down.  Dante tensed up.  Ellen suggested leading a little ways and mounting further down the trail.  I agreed.  The chainsawing was intermittent, making it hard for Dante to get used to it and relax.  Even when we got to the spot that we planned to mount, I could see that Dante still was very tense.  No big deal—we would just lead to the bottom of the hill.

Before we got that far, a woman came up the hill on an unknown horse.  Dante got more tense.  He is very distrustful of other horses—and actually has trouble tolerating any horses that are too close to him.  At his moment, 3 deer went dashing through the woods.  Deer seldom bother our horses, but Dante was ready to burst, so he went flying backwards.  That sent Cole dancing, too.

When we got to the bottom of the hill, we mounted and started walking back and forth on the flat part of the trail.  I wanted to Dante to settle down.  He wasn’t.  He was tossing his head around and walking very impatiently.  Cole was fine for Ellen, but Dante was still wound up and not unwinding.

As we were going back and forth at the bottom of the hill, I glanced up and saw the woman on the strange horse trotting down the hill in our direction.  It looked like she had very little control.  That was enough for me.  I hopped off and waited for her to get to us.  Dante stood still.

After she turned around to go back up the hill, I decided to lead Dante back and forth on the bottom of the hill to see if he would calm down because the riding didn’t work.  The morning was very, very foggy, and at one point, the sun came out and lit up the fog among the trees.  It looked very beautiful to me, but I think it looked threatening to Dante because he gave yet another big spook.  Sigh.  I was starting to get discouraged, but stuck to my plan.  Back and forth we went—countless times. 

Finally, I saw his head drop down and a quiet look came into his eyes.  I did one more back and forth, and we headed up the hill.  When we got to the spot that we like to turn around, it was time to add another dose of demoralization.  When  we turned, Dante threw a little temper tantrum.  When he does this, he will bounce up and down, pounding his feet and try to go the direction he wants to go.  I quietly circled him a few times until he gave up and followed me down the hill.  After a minute or so, it looked like he gave up and was ready to cooperate.

When we got down to the bottom, I mounted and rode him back and forth a number of times.  He was the old Dante, again.  Not once did he misbehave or even feel tense.

We then rode up the hill and back home.

So much for showing Ellen that Dante would be just fine.  Her hunch was correct—he hadn’t been out on the trail in a few weeks, and he would be over excited.  I think that was only part of the problem.  It put him in a mood that couldn’t tolerate the chainsaw, the strange horse, the deer and the fog that made everything look strange.  He was over stimulated and that caused him to not be his calm, laid back self.  Everybody has a bad day, sometimes.

I was very disappointed in him.  He was acting like a baby horse—not a seasoned 9-year-old trail horse.  Still, I felt good that we were able to work through the mood with no major drama or confrontations.  In the end, Dante accepted that all we wanted to do was walk up and down the hill, quietly.

It was raining the next day, so we couldn’t repeat the lesson.  From my experience with Dante—I am sure he would have been considerably better—if not perfect on day 2.  That’s just how he is.

Finding Ellen

Finding Ellen

Cruiser and I had a game we used to play called “Find Ellen.”  I would take him out on a trail ride and Ellen would go for a hike on the trail.  Of course, she couldn’t keep up with us because we trotted and cantered.  We would ride out and meet her on the way back.  I would chant “Find Ellen, where’s Ellen, find Ellen,” in a high pitched voice.  After a while, Cruiser figured it out.  His head would go up, he would look left and right and then he would start walking faster.  The more I said it, the faster he would walk.  Eventually, he would be gaiting—something he would only do for me when he wanted to trot and I wouldn’t let him.  It was a lot of fun for both of us.  As soon as he found Ellen, he would settle down and walk by her side all the way home.

Kevin taught Starry to look for Cruiser the same way.  If I was out on a ride and Kevin was looking for us, he would say, “Find Cruiser.”  He didn’t get Starry to go any faster, but Starry would start to neigh.

We have been going through a cold spell.  Ellen prefers to ride Dante in the arena when it is really cold.  I prefer to ride Cole in the park.  So, I watch Ellen with Dante in the arena and then take Cole in the park.  Ellen meets us on the other side of the river and walks with us.  The ground has been frozen solid since there hasn’t been any snow to insulate it.  I prefer not to trot on it—and Cole agrees. 

Over New Year’s weekend, as I rode Cole down the hill to the river, I decided to try to teach him “Find Ellen.”  The first day, I did the chant, he crossed the river and found Ellen on the other side.  The second day, I did the same.  On the third day, I was halfway down the hill when I started the chant.  Cole tossed his head in the air, shook his mane and neighed.  He very seldom neighs when I ride him, so this was something new.  To prove it wasn’t a fluke, an couple minutes later, he did it again.  When he got to the bottom of the hill, he tried taking off at a trot to the river crossing.  (I made him walk, of course.)

After only 3 tries, Cole seems to have figured out the game.  He is a genius.  It also goes to show you how much he, just like Cruiser, likes walking with Ellen.

A Christmas Ride

A Christmas Ride

Ellen and I met out at the barn on Christmas morning.  It is a tradition with us to ride on Christmas morning—but then again, it is a tradition for us to ride on together on all holidays if we are both not working—actually, that includes weekends, too.  I guess riding on Christmas isn’t such a big deal, after all.

Going on a long trail ride on Christmas morning is special, though.  There are a lot of Christmas mornings that we have extreme cold, rain, ice, snow storms or can’t cross the river.  Even if we can get on the trail and across the river, it is usually very cold, so we go for a short ride.  This year was an exception.  With the temps’ in the 40’s, we were able to go for a lovely, longer ride.

There was only one problem.  The river was a little high.  Now, it was crossable.  I crossed just the day before with Kevin.  (Ellen was working.)  It was pretty high then, but we had no problems.  I knew it would only be lower, and she could do it, but since we haven’t had much rain in months, she was out of practice and was nervous about riding Dante across.

She had an ingenious idea—we would switch horses!  She would ride Cole Train and I would ride Dante.  (Why she felt braver riding a pony across when her own horse is a couple inches taller and much more sturdy doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but I didn’t question it—it meant we would be able to go on a trail ride.)

We rode down to the river, slowly.  Cole wanted clicks from Ellen, so he started trialing behaviors.  He was doing silly walk and going sideways.  I saw him overdo the sideways and jackknife once.  I just kept plodding with Dante.

When we made it to the river, both horses didn’t really want to cross.  They each wanted the other horse to go first.  Cole finally stepped in, and Dante slowly followed.  It really wasn’t very high—up to the top of Cole’s knees.

Once across, Dante and I had a disagreement.  He wanted to go to the left.  He always prefers to go that direction.  We wanted to go to the right.  It is a nicer ride if you don’t want to go more than an hour and a half.  I circled him and pointed him the direction we wanted to go. 

I decided to go first so that Cole could follow slowly behind and not worry Ellen with any excessive speed.  She certainly had nothing to worry about.  Cole decided to take advantage of the situation.  He began trialing, again.  He would stop and tell her he needed a treat—and she would give him one!  Well, that opened the Pandora ’s Box.  He kept stopping, and I think she kept treating.  I don’t really know exactly what was going on.  We kept trotting and they were long out of sight.  At times, I stopped and let them catch up.  Dante’s favorite trot is much slower than Cole’s favorite trot, so this was a huge switch from normal.  Usually, I am waiting for Dante because Cole goes faster.  Now, I was waiting for Cole—simply unheard of.

We got to a point where we hadn’t seen them in a couple minutes, and Dante realized what was going on—and started to cry!  He has the most horrible voice.  We just stood there and waited.  Cole finally woke up and trotted up to us.

By this time, Kevin caught up on Starry.  The more the merrier on this Christmas morning.

We went down a little hill and around a corner—and got to the spot that we usually canter—we call it the canter stretch.  I certainly didn’t want to put Ellen through that.  Cole, if he is in the mood, will canter very, very fast.  I suppose I should call it a gallop.  It is my fault.  I love it and encourage him.  It doesn’t bother Starry or Dante when we get too far ahead.  They will go a little faster, but they get left in the dust.  We will stop and wait for them to catch up.  Any other time, he canters normal—but not on the canter stretch.  Dante goes a good, fast speed, but it is still a rational canter.  Ellen isn’t used to Cole’s gallop, so it was best just to trot.

Since all three horses would have preferred to canter, we trotted fast, and it was fun.  Ellen and I both love a fast trot.  We stopped at the next river crossing.  Since the river is always higher there, we decided to cross on the ford.  Since Ellen likes to lead across it, we dismounted and switched horses.  After that, it was a normal ride.

Shortly after, Kevin turned back.  He had less time than us because he had a Christmas event with his family.  Our family knows better than to schedule anything that would interfere with our riding.

On the way home, we once again switched horses to recross the river.  Cole is not happy about that river bank because it has gotten very muddy at the bottom and some of the bank has washed away.  He has to step down into the mud.  Dante just slides down the edge of the washed out area into the mud.  It doesn’t bother him at all.  We were across the river waiting on the other side, and Cole was still trying to find a way to avoid getting his feet in the mud.  Ellen patiently worked with him to get him to go down the bank into the water successfully.

Once they got across, we both opted to dismount and lead up the hill.  We were a little chilly.  On the faster parts of the ride, we got pretty sweaty.  As we walked home to cool the horses down, our sweatiness cooled us too much.  Leading up the hill is a perfect solution to warm up.  It is something we do often.  We switched back to our proper horses.

I had fun when I was riding Dante , and Ellen felt the same on Cole.  We now have a way that we can cross when the river is a little too high for Ellen’s comfort, yet it is safe to cross.  She could ride the little horse.  

My Garden

My big, multi-year project.  This is my garden wall that my sister rebuilt a few summers ago.  I have been working on bringing the garden back to life, but nothing has thrived.  This winter, I am bringing home tubs of rotted horse manure every time I go to the barn and adding them to my various gardens. This one has about 6 inches of manure on it, now.  In the spring, I will be planting all kinds of flowers in it.  Hopefully, the deer will allow some to grow.

This is the view outside my dining room window.  It used to be a thing of great beauty before the wall started to collapse and killed much of the flowers.  I hope to return it to it's former glory.

Update on Ranger and His Girlfriend

Update on Ranger and His Girlfriend

She loves him; simply loves him.  He thinks she is a pipsqueak and ignores her most of the time.  It is wonderful.  I can clean his stall when he is in it, and he isn’t trying to kick the wall or snake his head at her.  She will stand by his wall and reach her little nose up as high as she can to see him, and he doesn’t care.

The other day, we were out leading Ranger on the loop.  One end of the track goes along the fence of the outdoor arena, and the pony was out there.  We trotted Ranger along the fence, and she trotted alongside him.  It was so cute, and I could see he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, yet he was a gentleman the whole time.  He didn’t try to race her—or snarl at her.

She cries when he leaves the barn, and he could care less.  The more she adores him, the more he ignores her.  We couldn’t be happier!