Smile of the Day

Dante’s Turn

Dante’s Turn

It was time to get Dante down on the trail.  I had been taking Cole out quite a bit once the time changed, but Ellen rides in the morning when I am at work.  She doesn’t want to do this on her own, when it is too cold, when the river is a little too high, if it is windy or if she isn’t feeling confident.  We kept putting it off.  In the meantime, she was working in the arena (and getting bored of it) and riding Dante on the loop in the back of the barn’s property.

Easter Sunday was warm and beautiful.  The river was in good shape, too.  Ellen had ridden Dante 3 days in a row.  I felt it was time.  I’m not sure what she felt, but since I was going to ride him, I took charge.  Ellen would ride Cole Train.

We turned Dante out to play and chased him around.  He ran a bucked and ran and bucked.  He was ready. 

We survived the ride.  There was spooking, stalling out, bursting with excitement, a slip in the river caused by another spook and lots of silliness.  That was Cole.  Dante was perfect.  I mean simply perfect—an A plus ride.  He did absolutely nothing wrong—that is—if you don’t count not wanting to turn around to go back home.  He was so happy to be out, he wanted to keep going.

Sure, he was excited and tossed his head around.  He always tosses his head when he is feeling good.  No matter how much he tossed his head, his feet did just what I wanted them to do.  After a while, even the head tossing that went away.

He readily stepped into the river, he had fully functional brakes and nothing seemed to bother him.  He spent the time looking to the left and looking to the right—there was so much to see after the long winter.  The ride was mostly trotting on the way out and we walked on the way home.

That was my ride.  Ellen’s was much different.  Cole was playing games with Ellen, and she fell right into his trap.  He would refuse to go—and say that he needed a treat.  She would give him the treat, and a few minutes later, he would stop and refuse to go, again.  I told her he wasn’t supposed to get treats on demand, but she has a hard time saying no to him.  The good news—he will be just fine when I ride him.  He always is.

He’s the one that spooked when the loud motorcycle went by.  Dante ignored it.  Cole refused to go down the river bank on the way home.  We just watched on the other side.  (Cole doesn’t like the mud.  Dante likes to slide down the mud.)  Oh, and Cole had a Cole Burst.  That is what we call it when he just jumps in the air and say he wants to go.  It is easy to stop him, so they don’t intimidate either of us, but it is not something that Dante does.  Cole was doing silly walk—and I saw him side-passing a few times, too.  There is never a dull moment when you are riding Cole!  None of it was scary except when he spooked and slipped while crossing the river.  It is never fun to have a horse fall in the river.

So, overall, I had the easy ride, and Ellen had the fun one.  I don’t know if she will take Dante on the next trail ride and give me my entertaining horse back or if she will stick with Cole a few more times.  I’ll keep you updated.

The First Evening Trail Ride of the Year

The First Evening Trail Ride of the Year

This is a day I always look forward to each year—the first ride after the time change—no more riding in the inside arena or on the loop in the dark.  I get to ride on the trail.  Not only that, but I get to go riding with Kevin and Starry.  We have a great time on our evening trail rides.

Not surprisingly for the month of March, the river was too high to cross.  Actually, that is better than the last few March’s when we couldn’t cross because the river was still frozen.  Riding up and down the hill isn’t that much fun most of the time, but this time of year, it is a treat just to be out.

This certainly wasn’t my first time on the hill this year.  I have done it a number of times by myself and last weekend, I did it with Ranger.  This was my first time with Starry in a long time, and we thought the horses might be a little hyper.

We were right.  Cole was just plain excited to be on a trail ride in the evening and he scurried down the hill at a very fast walk.  Starry strolled down, slowly, but when he got to the bottom, he was all excited because he wanted to trot.  We opted to put Starry in the lead, because Kevin thought he might act up is Cole trotted too fast.  My challenge would be keeping Cole quiet.

As Kevin started to trot, I felt Cole surge, but gently asked him to trot steady, and he did.  We made it to the end of the trail in seconds, turned around and walked up the hill.

The sky was getting a little dark, and I knew there was rain coming because I checked the radar.  Still, we both agreed to got back down the hill.  One trip didn’t seem enough, and there was no trace of thunder.

When we got to the bottom of the hill, we felt the air change temperature.  Starry trotted off in the lead, and Cole was a little tougher to keep behind him, but in the end he cooperated.

When we turned around and looked at the sky, it seemed a little ominous.  We knew this would be our last trip.  A few minutes later, as we were walking up the hill, I said, “We aren’t going to make it.”  I hopped off in anticipation of problems. 

Within a minute, it wasn’t just raining, it was a deluge.  Cole freaked out.  I wasn’t surprised.   Not many things bother Cole, but rain can really get to him.  He has always been this way.  The very first time it started raining when I was riding him, he tried to spin and run home.  I thought it was a fluke, until it happened the second and third time, too. 

After getting caught in the rain way more times than I can count, Cole has learned to tolerate it.  A light rain doesn’t bother him at all—but this wasn’t a light rain.  It was very hard, very sudden and it was the first evening trail ride of the year when he was wound up to begin with.  The wind was gusting and there was plenty of thunder and lightning to boot.  He wanted to go home—as fast as he could.

What followed was several frustrating minutes of circling, and trying to keep him out of the ditch on his side and me away from the edge of the hill on my side.  They trail that is wide enough to drive a truck down, suddenly became very narrow. 

And then something happened.  Cole just settled right down.  Maybe he realized that he couldn’t get home fast if I kept circling him every time he tried to charge.  Maybe he realized the rain wasn’t going to hurt him.  I really don’t know.  He just put his head down and marched home.  I tried to click him and feed him treats while he was walking, (he wasn’t going to stop for a treat) but I had trouble getting them in his mouth.  Instead, I just started a “good boy” chant.

We were less than 10 minutes from home when the storm hit.  We were drenched.  Lucky for me, I had a jacket on, so simply taking it off and switching from my wet boots to my dry shoes made a big difference.  Kevin didn’t have a jacket, so he decided to go home and change.  (He only lives a few minutes away.)  I scraped the excess water off Cole and started cleaning stalls to warm up.

I was disappointed that I couldn’t take Ranger outside for his walk, since it was still raining.  Walking about the indoor arena isn’t very exciting.  To make it more fun, we played “touch Princess.”  She is the tyrant cat that follows me all over the place.  She loves attention, but too much will end up with teeth and claws.  When Ranger touched her gently, he got a treat.  He liked the game, and Princess was cooperative.

Bus Stop Revisited

Bus Stop Revisited

Traffic is Dante’s Achilles heel, and one bad behavior moment ended up with Ellen breaking her ankle—causing her a lot of anxiety whenever she has to lead him on the street.  The following spring, I spent a lot of time getting him accustomed to traffic.  After doing it in the driveway with Kevin in his car, we ventured out towards the real world.  I would lead him to the end of the driveway and stand there to watch traffic.  I called it Bus Stop.

Dante learned to enjoy the game.  In fact, it became his very favorite game, ever.  When a car would come by, I would ask him to lower his head, and I would then click him for standing still with his head lowered and his eyes on me.  He could play this game all day, and I would end up getting bored and bring him back to the barn.

Now that we are reintroducing him to the great outdoors after a winter in the indoor arena, it was time to review his favorite game.

Last Saturday, after Ellen rode him in the arena, I led Dante down the driveway with Ellen at our side.  She was so nervous!  The only thing I was nervous about was the possibility that Dante would disappoint her.

We walked halfway down, stopped and waited for a car.  Car, click, carrot and continue.  We went about 10 steps further down the driveway.  Finally, we were close to, but not quite to the end.  The very end is under a tree, so the sun hadn’t melted the ice that covered the whole driveway, just the day before.  I didn’t want any horses dancing around on ice, so I thought it would be best to stay where we were. 

Our street doesn’t have a whole lot of traffic, so there was more waiting than clicking.  Ellen was still nervous.  I was getting bored.  Dante was perfect.

Ellen was worried he might misbehave when I turned him to go back to the barn, so she explained to me how I should point to the ground to ask him to lower his head on the turn.  It worked like a dream.  He dropped his head and followed my hand as we turned to home.  Of course, he got clicked for that.

He walked back to the barn like a gentleman.

Ellen was so happy that he was so perfect.  She was just beaming.  Day one of traffic training = A plus.

Day two was the next day.  This time, the driveway was completely thawed and I was able to lead him down to the end of it.  Once again, he got an A plus.  Once again, Ellen was elated.  I don’t think he will be any trouble leading on the street this spring.  I will review bus stop as much as I can until then.

It never hurts to review old lessons like this.  It reassures the horses because we aren’t rushing them into scary situations, and it reassures humans that our horses will be able to handle those situation.

Cole Train in Slow Motion

Ellen had a little fun with her camera this weekend and took some video of us in slow motion.  This is the bottom of the hill right before the river.  There is a short, flat section of the trail that we will trot and canter back and forth when we can't cross the river--like this weekend.

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!