ErosionaryPractices

Who knew??
Not me. I did say I'd blog about whatever enrages me, too. Uh, oh... I have been blissfully unaware of some common horrific practices out there. How on earth can a practice that removes valuable tissue from the horse's hooves be beneficial, to the horse?
Oh, right, it's PRETTY. When did the pretty start to outweigh the good for the horse? Is it really necessary to make a horses' foot "shine like glass"? There are some basic rules of horse-keeping that should never be broken.
First, do no harm.

To anyone out there thinking an electric-sander is an acceptable grooming product for a horse's hooves, all I can say is, stfu.

The picture above, (again, taken from a reprint by Lee Valley Tools, "How the Farm Pays" - 1884, William Crozier & Peter Henderson) is of a "Cleveland Bay" horse, from that era. What is wrong with this picture? I've altered it. Keep applying an electric power tool to your horses' hooves, and you will slowly destroy that hoof, for a good long time.

Oh, I just want to vomit. "When you are finished showing, you can remove the polish with rubbing alcohol and some heavy duty shop rags. Don't use your good grooming rags, they will turn black from the polish. When the hooves are clean, use some hoof conditioner to replace moisture (alcohol dries the hoof out)."
Ya THINK!!!

This too. Fcik. "Don't take too much of the hoof off while sanding, you won't get every bump gone..and over the course of a show season, they will lose a lot of the wall!"

How long does it take for the wall to grow back??
Yes, and walls help hold up the structure, ya moron... Take away the wall, what happens to the hoof?

It's barbaric. Or maybe it's just the sign of the times. Pretty is more important than useful...

I cringe at the idea of using wood filler. Does NOBODY look at the labels on these products???

The Unaltered, for comparison. What I love about this engraving, is that even though the artist showed feet that weren't "perfect" or "identical", the horse stands over his feet. As he should.



RIP.

Oh, I know, I've read the rationalizations. The moisture is replaced with hoof dressing, some farriers say it's fine, "never had any problems". Funny, though, the "for the sanding" camp didn't post any pictures of their horse's feet.

Here's a quote from a hoof care site..
"Avoid:
• Rasping the hoof wall to remove ridges and make it “look pretty.” Some rasping is necessary, but it removes the natural waxy covering on the hoof, so you want to minimize it. Over-rasping makes a hoof more susceptible to drying, cracking and chipping.

• Routine use of any type of hoof dressing, except for a specific purpose for a limited amount of time."

Dust, in the wind.

WonderKinds

Pictured, the first time Flip met my kid sister's dog, Millie. Instant love, instant kinship. They have a special bond, those two. When Flip first saw MillieDillie, she growled. I worried. I learned that my dogs use growls and hackles for excitement. Aggression just isn't in Flip's vocabulary. Anywhere. Unless she is killing a mole:)



Blazenhood thinks she's tough, but...
Oh, The indignity. Oh, the humanity..



Why?? Why do you do this to Me???


The sensitivity of animals never ceases to amaze me. The emotions they can express, if we watch closely, are hilarious, and sad, and illuminating. They can say so much with their ears/eyes/tail/body posture. Blaze moreso, having 4.75" long ears. When she flattens those ears, SOMEthing is up. Flip is very expressive too, but she is secretive. Flip likes to pretend she's forgotten about stuff she'd like to roll in. Doo, deedum, hah, there it is, Mom's eyes off me, check, roll roll roll. Stink! Oh, Mom is not gonna be pleased. But she always comes to me, with that shamefaced look. Sorry Mom. She'll go over to the hose, and stand by it. Flip knows the drill. It can be called a behaviour chain, I suppose, by you bondage experts. I prefer to think she's just planning ahead.

I've learned so much from reading other opinions about training, and I am always alert for the mistakes I make. They are my fault. Not my dogs..

Oh, I need to tell you. Remember Sega? Our next door neighbour little witch dog at work? Gawd, she's a character! Jack Russell/Yorkie cross. Flip thinks she's an idiot. Sega cowers to NO dog, except Flip.

Before we adopted Blaze, Flip put up with Sega's megalomania pretty well.


Now, Flip just steals Sega's stuffed toys. Sega cowers/piddles, all is well. I'm leaving work yesterday, both girls loaded up for the commute. Sega stood at her shop door, a stuffy returned that day between her paws, YELLING at us, before we left. "Where the hell has this stuffy been?? Why didn't I get it back before now!! Yap, yap, yap." Sega, (who hadn't shown ANy recent interest in this particular stuffy), between yelling at us, picked stuffy up for a little terrier-shake killing of errant stuffy. For good measure. Always a terrier trait. Girls stole a bone from her too. Sega had good reason to be pissed.

I give my dogs the best life I can possibly give.
It's the very least I can do.

GoodDaySunshine

Me 'n Boomer King, 1975, at a horse show. I am wearing a frilly western shirt, yup. I liked it!! Boomer was a little ex-barrel racer, I re-made him into a jumper, he taught me just how bloody smart quarter horses can be. My stirrups are too long, and my lower leg is stuck out in front of me. I had the affectation of keeping my tippy toe on the stirrup, not the ball of my foot. Bad, berry bad.

I had this mini-epiphany, or maybe maxi-guilt, not sure, reading NicelyDun's blog. I realized my brain still has some relatively useful information. It's true. If you look down (quick) as you are posting trot, and you see your toe in front of your knee-cap, your lower leg is too far forward..
Hey, I knew that! Then I felt guilty. See, I don't like to advocate looking down, at all.

I like to think of it as "keeping my leg underneath me". In any sitting position on the horse, you "should" be able to raise yourself, off of his back. With the strength of your upper legs, yup. Sorry. Fitness again. Two-point, again. Can't be done, if your lower leg is too far forward. Period. Try it, I dare ya:)

We've chatted here before about "proper" leg position, and how it is really determined by your horse's and your conformation, and how the two of you "fit". That's not very helpful to a beginner. And each horse you get on is a new beginning.

Any horse you climb onto, should be climbed on gently. Only practice will allow the non-requirement of a mounting block. Only. Fitness is your friend, y'know. We were given legs for a reason. Ask me, if you're interested. I know, from reading out there, in bloggle land, that there are many with questions. Good grief, it must be so confusing. I don't need a mounting block, or at least, I never used to. You can have a right leg that will "power" you upward, using just the stirrup's placement, NOT it's attachment to your horse. Yes, really. Yes, it's easier if the two of you are not ridiculously opposite. A short person can do it. Ya poor things;) No, I don't mean you & Buck, CCC!
It's a good skill to have, is all I'm saying. Done improperly, it IS hard on the saddle bars, the horse's back of course, and the stirrup leathers..

So, at risk of being truly boring/redundant/obvious, I will some day describe (again) how anybody can find their "ideal" leg position, on any horse they may ride, except for maybe Shetlands. Or if you are 6 foot tall, and your horse is 13.3. Ve haff problems with that.. That's for you all to figure out. It can be done, obviously. Even then, the leg position must really remain the same. Shoulder, hip, heel. The knee angle determines what type of riding you wish to do, and what conformation your horse has.

Saddle fitting, yes, now that I look, improper fitting is happening in western riding too. "Tenting" isn't happening. Always "Tent" your saddle pad, so that it lines the gullet of your saddle, at the pommel. Do it right now, if you haven't done it before. Apologies if you already do it.

If you do not do it, you are creating discomfort for your horse. Never a good thing, right before you get on. Make sure everything fits comfortably. If your horse is already tacked up for you, lucky you. I'd still check everything. Check your girth. It may be too tight, too. Check all fittings, all of them!

Oh, I am droning. Or am I?

Seems like there's an echo in here tonight..

hello???

Helllooo??

Yup, did ya hear that?? People are having summers, somewhere. I can almost smell the barbeque...Lucky buggahs.
That IS how ya spell Barbeque, Blogger!


To all of my readers enjoying sunshine, heat and dry air. Humid air, too. That I got. Just no HEAT. Thpftgh, or pffffffpht. Pah. Piffle. It's almost the end of July, Environment Canada. Could we get it together, shortly? Turning into mushrooms, here..

HollyHolyhocks!

Sooo, I had already tried turning Tad out the arena, and in the longing pen. He'd also been out in the smallest paddock I could find on the place. I'd never had to deal with a first-time turned out horse.

Tad had been quiet and obedient, in these initial turn-out excursions. I felt he was ready. I felt turn-out should be part of any young horse's regime. Always had been, in my previous experiences. And I did assume that what I'd been told was true. Tad had been turned out before.

I was in for such an unpleasant surprise, that day. Tad became wonder stallion of the world. His tail, (of course, in that picture I'd missed it), went straight up, over his back, like an electric eel shooting sparks out his butt. Tad became a hooligan, immediately. Yes, I had worked with him, yes, he'd been out in the arena first. But holy crowly, when Tad's feet realized they were Free? (For the FIRST Time??)? Good night...

I'd brought my camera, but it was quickly forgotten, as I watched at the gate, helpless. Tad wound himself up into quite the frenzy. There's a fence at the top of that hill. Tad roared around that paddock, as my dreams of my new horse flickered, terrified by the what if's coursing through my brain... What if he slipped? What if he fell?? What IF??

I'll bet my face was whiter than the snow. It was a fairly mild day, so the ground was a bit greasy on top. Tad did his best impression of the RoadRunner, revving himself up for each blast up and down the hill. Snow/mud flying. It was the turning at the bottom that finally did him in. Tad's speed and his lack of braking while turning balance, accomplished his sudden slip/slide (still galloping) along his side for about forty feet, as he tried a 90 degree right turn downhill at full gallop. He slid to a stop in front of me at the gate. How he managed to miss the posts of the post and board fence, I have no idea. Tad was SO embarrassed. He was fine, just solid wet clay on his right side, tip of nose, to tip of tail.. Tad followed me meekly back to the barn. In the rest of our time together, he never gave me the feeling he might fall.

Tad improved after that, but man, that first time.. Scared the crap out of me. Could I have done anything different? You have to take the chance. The horse has to learn where his legs are. I prefer they learn without me on them, at first. My idiot stick barn manager would tell me Tad had been turned out. Tad never got turn-out, unless I was there.

Oh, I am always struck by that picture. He was a looker, my Tad. No feet, but wow, if only..

Does anybody hear crickets chirping? Oh, it's so nice and quiet, isn't it? I love the country.

Goose Tales
I enjoyed my Canada Geese family and their flying lessons the other night. A family of 5, the Gander (is that right?) a gigantic fellow. Mr. Goose has poops the size of a small pony/large dog. He's about 46" tall, bigger when he's pissed off at the Great Blue Heron.

My dogs have several "oh, yay!!" words. The list is growing, but the best words are (always asked as a question) "Chipmunk? (or) Squirrel? (or) Rabbit?" (Flip's fave). Blaze's right now is "Geese"?

All that is accomplished, with any of these words is: Flip - alerts, will get up, bark, usually races towards the latest known rodent territory, bustling away on Very important business.. Blaze - Eyes pop out of her head, stamps her front paws up and down, bounces, spins, chews frantically on whatever toy she's got in her mouth (usually Frisbee) and races around like an idiot. She may wave her paws, roll-over, do her little "trill" bark. You just don't Know what she'll DO! Funny to watch, anyway.

So, back to point. The Geese have been on our side of the pond this year, more than usual, as the really tall pasture on the other side is harder to move through. Geese love cut grass. (Duh, I know you know.) Our lawn slopes down to the pond. First lesson for young geese, running down the slope, and jumping into the pond with awkward flapping and flopping. Performed with more alacrity when dogs are in pursuit, which is RARE, because both girls never seem to see them when I point, and say "get the damn Geese off the lawn!"

I know that daddy goose has tried to use the dogs for some motivation for his goslings, but my super herders don't "see" geese, until it's really too late. Geese are already in the pond. Mr. Goose has been disappointed with these new dogs. He's used to Samson, old red dog, and my sister's dog. They could put the run on geese!

So, "getting the geese" = Chaos ensues, but not in the geese direction. My dogs are geese stupid.

Mr. Goose has been doing the best he can. The other night, I watched as the family paddled up to the north end. A south wind blowing. I love to see the Mr. & Mrs. nodding/shaking their heads, and suddenly the five are running/slapping the water, and they are air-borne, just before they reach the trees encircling the south (& west) end of the pond. All bank, the three young ones so obvious with their "whoah, this is TRICKY!!" flails of their flaps. Plop, into the water. Much more head-shaking and nodding, and off they went again.

Later, Mr. Goose seemed to be plotting something. He kept bringing his brood up onto the grass, while we were there watching/playing Frisbee with the dogs, something he never does. They usually just watch from the pond:)

It was finally time to go inside, but I watched Mr. Goose. It was time for Blaze to have her evening ablutions. I had already tried to run off the geese, but dogs wanted dinner. Fine. We all come inside. Geese come up on the south end of our lawn. I let Blaze out for her poops, which she does, while the geese are on the lawn, maybe 100' from her. Blaze always runs and barks after poops. Mr. Goose knows this. TahDAAAH! Blaze finally sees them, drops into the classic slink stalk and puts the run on the family. Mr. (& Mrs.) Goose oh so gracefully, blocked the kids from heading for the pond, and off the three went, up and alone. Mr. and Mrs. Goose landed back in the pond, and talked the three through their first solo flight. What a sweet sound. Oh, we are free. Oh, we can Fly...
When they needed to land, Mr. & Mrs. Goose hurried up to the north end, to show the kids the way home.

It was beautiful to see. I am honoured to have been witness. Thanks, Mr. & Mrs. Goose.



HOLLYHOCK!

The monster on the right is 10 feet tall, if not more. I love hollyhocks. Plant 'em, ignore 'em. Perfect. They do try to take over, but so far, they've stayed within my very reasonable boundaries..


All horsie pictures are from "How the Farm Pays", 1884, reprinted by Lee Valley Tools. dagnabbit, forgot the authors, I will post it when I get home, promise.
Written by William Crozier & Peter Henderson.
There ya go!

Happy Belated Birthday Pat!!

Fear of Flopping

Tad Plaid, sans gonad(s).



A Hydrangea Flower.


Blaze Puppy, and the most important thing on her earth.




That's Leo Bear, with cool kid on his back. Oh, he was a nice kid. Had his own New Forest Pony, horrible thing, no neck or withers, not broke. The kid had already outgrown him, and it wasn't pretty watching them careening around the ring. I insisted he take some lessons on a broke horse. Kid loved to cluck, and chirp, and make the strangest noises with his mouth. The camera has actually captured the pursing of his mouth he'd do. The net forward effect was zero, of course. Well, except that Leo's mildly interested.

The poor kid didn't even know he was doing it, half the time, and with pony, it kinda sorta didn't work, at all. The kid didn't quite have the timing yet. Kid would cluck, and bam, into the fence the pony would leap, broad-side. Yeah, safe mount. His sister was a wonderful kind rider, boarding there at the time, and she was totally embarassed by the pony too.

The Riding Instructor (A Parody of the 23rd. Psalm), written in 1971, by moi.

The Instructor is my enemy.
To whom I DARE not talk back.
He draggeth me to the arena.
He teareth down my arrogance.
Yea, though I walk through the stalls of learning, I will hide my ignorance,
for fear of a fence.
The screams and cruses he flings at me.
My blisters swelleth over.
Surely pain and misery will follow me all the days of my life.
And I will sit the trot, forever.

Funny, I'd forgotten that silly thing. Mom carefully pasted it inside the photo album. Thanks, Mom.
I think, by then, I was taking lessons from Ed Rothcranz. Now, that man could yell! Good thing he was German, and I didn't understand half of what he was saying.
I remember the blisters, and the pain. Riding clear through my jeans. Blood crusting on my inner calves.
The joy. Always, the joy. First.

Fear of Flopping.
It's in everybody/everything, all the time, a little niggling worry ahead thing.
That picture of Tad gelding was taken around the time I realized he'd had NO turnout at his old place. Tad was three. Talk about yippee-kay-Yay!

The first time I chanced it was in this paddock, built on a hill. I thought it would slow him down.

To be continued......

OlderHorses

Oh drats, I have to do this for FernV. I mean, I don't HAVE to.
FernValley haz branding iron. Does no-one know how to spell anymore??
kreativ. Jeeeeeeeeeeezzzz.
How creative!! Am I supposed to tag three other bloggers too?

Snivelling ALERT!
OH, the pain, the agony, the whining is getting annoying, I'll stop. Really.

Seven Possibly Interesting Things About Me.

1) I have clothes that are older than NicelyDun. WAY older than Mel:)

2) I'm really good with math stuff.

3) I have perfect pitch. No, really, I do. It's a curse. In MUSIC, you guys!! I can't not notice off key. I just can't. Sorry, Mick Jagger, you really SUCKED on the 2006 tour. Oh, Mickie Jagger just fractured several of his classics. My ears about burst. Even my husband, as deaf as a post from machinery operation for a gabillion years, noticed. The mighty have fallen into olden times.
(Tangent..Have you SEEN U2's commercial for Blackberry?? jeesh, hope he donates THAT money!)

4) I have excellent hearing. Drives people crazy, what I can hear.

5) Now that I think of it, I can smell really well, too, surprising, cause I (still, I KNOW) smoke, and I've

6) Had rhinoplasty.

7) Is my favourite number. No really!

8) Okay, I'm easily distracted, which is why I usually read comments from the bottom up.

(SIGH)
Three poor unsuspecting links to awesome blogs, are hearby nominated forthwithingly, by me, the kreativ blogger award recipientator.. I decided to go with randomest additions to my reading list. Flipping a coin is HARD, FV. (sobs)
(cough, cough, cough)
Ahem.
UnionSquareStables sounds way cool. In Florida, for crying out loud. Trade ya some heat and humidity! It was 50Frickin'Fahr degrees out this am. I'd love to be warm right now. Really.

Oh, that would be nine, but it really isn't interesting.. I prefer heat to cold. Why do I live here?? Oh right, place of birth..

Um, a a couple of blogs that haven't updated, in like forever. They have real lives. With horses. Must be nice.
Grey Mares are Always Interesting

Did you get the carrots, Trooper?
How was Mongolia, BHM? Kinda barbaric, eh? Darned bohemians, living off the land, eking out a living. How foolish! Rip that paper-thin top-soil UP! Put in a parking lot for the jeeps, FCS. How is UPS supposed to deliver the beer & carrots? Where will CNN set up?
That was sarcasm, by the way. Just tryin' to keep you up to speed.

And an extra, bonus special link, to an extra special artist, ND_Appy. She's busy painting, shhhh, don't bother her. She has enough to do. Very kreativ blogger!

Snivelling ALERT continues!
There, whew, my POOR fingers! Owowowowowowo. Ow!

Back to Horses, of the even older variety.

Thought I'd keep changing up the time line, keep throwing ya off. Backwards in time, we go. From 1981 to...


Aaaaaah. 1970. What a year. I got the HEck out of First/Worst barn, by way of Next/Worse barn, bonus points for no fear of inappropriateness towards my person. That's the log pile we'd school over. Yes, I am holding a piece of binder twine. Yes, I am wearing penny-loafers and chaps.

Where this log pile was, is now Hwy#407 & Dufferin Street, somewhere in there...
I can't tell where half the barns WERE anymore. Houses, houses, houses, liquor stores, banks, beer stores, BigOrangeRetailGiant, BORG stores. Drug stores, of course. Office towers where I used to hack. Weird...

This guy that I rode this mare for, had low clue power. Berry, Berry Low. Nice guy, loved horses, couldn't ride one to save his life, knew nothing about them, really. TruckDriver guy. He did feed them well. He did some deals...

F/W POS guy "set me up" with S/W, after learning I'd (finally) talked to some other friends at the F/W barn. I was lying, apparently.. In front of his wife, I was given the lecture about my lying. I'm 13, what the fcik did I know? I was a little angry about that. Some things aren't worth lying about. No, never told my parents... Are you kidding?? Saying ByeBye to horses was not in my plans.

Oh, I was hard on this mare. For 2 years or so, and then, after arguing with S/W about jumping a two-year old, I quit. And, tahDAH parents finally caved, and bought me a horse. I was 15 and a half. I think:)


1970, same mare, London Horse Show, again, sorry.

I'm saving the other GoLightly picture I found, in our old family photo albums. Falling apart at the bindings, such precious, fragile, delicate memories our family has.
Thanks, Mom. I'd forgotten all about that picture.
It's posted, just not here:)

Some things need remembered. Some forgotten. Some should be cherished and nurtured, like a wood-burning stove in winter. Glowing embers of memory, fanned by the love of horses.
The Special Horses.
To Your Horses.

Gangles

I completely forgot about posting these gangly mare pictures! BHM hasn't returned from Mongolia yet. BHM and Trooper had already overtaken the jeeps, last I heard. The Mongolian Horses are pretty appalled.


HSE 1981 Horse Show, posing perfectly. I don't know what I said to the mare, but she didn't like it:) Probably got smoke up her nose. Mare had a couple flaws, conformation wise, but she was a sweet, sweet girl. Over-long back, a bit "disconnected" behind. Shortish, upright neck. Not really a ton of scope. Kind, willing heart.



That's better. She was pretty smooth in her gaits, a little short striding in front, just a bit narrow bodied, and quite "wiggly" when I first started with her. Her pictures are fun for me to look at, because I can see the difference my cousin made in my riding, between the "schooling" shot, taken before, and the "show" shot, taken after my visit to cousin. I still have the notes I wrote to myself.. "Shoulders back". "Look where you're going." "Shorten your stirrups for jumping." (duh) A biggie - "Let The Mare do the jumping!" "Do bounce fences and keep your upper body naturally straight".



I rode with a way long stirrup, for over fences, hadn't changed it much for years. And of course, I bent too far forward from the waist, "jumping ahead". Because my stirrup was tooo long. This shot shows how well she could jump, if I hit a nice, generous longish take-off spot. I couldn't "bury" her to closer distances, as she'd often take the rail down in front. Again, Because I was jumping ahead, weighting her forehand, just as she was leaving the ground. I also was very close to losing my teaching job at this barn, at this point, as I've mentioned before. I couldn't teach beginners to jump. No how.



After I spent the time with cousin, I FinallY started being more aware of my stirrup length, and in this shot, the mare has taken off much closer to the fence, and man, is she using herself! TahDahhhh! I'm Much better with my upper body, too. It's still exaggerated, but I'm not kissing neck. Her front end got even better, as she learned to use herself properly. She's splitting her front legs a bit here, i.e. her knees are uneven, but I really like the air she's giving the fence, seeing's how she'd been known for knocking them down in front for so long. Yes, my brand new just learned it crest release is mannered/artificial. TFB. I'd always been taught grab the mane.

This was a TBcross, no idea on the exact breeding, other than Tamarack was in her bloodlines. Lots of hunter horses around that area were, too, at this point.

The mare started to look pretty big league. I started to dream of riding in the big leagues... She wasn't quite big enough, nor I, but I didn't know that!

Yes, I did finally master teaching beginners to jump, too. I had to learn myself, first, AFTER riding & jumping for 15 years.

1981, a very good year.


Not so much for trees in my area, this year.

Yes, folks, the neighbour who likes a chainsaw is at it again. The space you see between the two "forests" used to be a solid wall of mature trees. I used to live to the right, and we were grateful for the wind break in winter.
All down, all dead. No good reason. None. Reduced to wood chips, used only for spreading all over the barren ground. Which starves the soil for a bit..



Above was yesterday. This is today.


And after a work stoppage, thank you thunderstorms, this is (I hope) the end, for now.



Man against Tree. Tree loses.


Developer mindsets will never rest, until the land is barren of all organic "real" life. These trees would have been full of birds and wildlife, at this time of year. All gone. Bye, Bye. Those trees won't grow back in a year. Maybe 50. Might be too late by then.
You wonder why I'm grumpy...
I haven't seen or heard a red-headed wood-pecker this year. The sighting numbers are low. What my neighbour did to his "new" land will be felt by the earth and it's creatures for decades to come.


"It doesn't matter" doesn't always work for me, Mrs. Small.


Somehow, it has to start mattering, to the people owning the land.

UnbelievablyFlippy..Sarcasm

Agree or disagree?
"The real truth is, that for a general purpose horse, the trainer doesn't NEED to have a truly independent seat, or perfect hands, or very subtle cues. In fact, the greener the horse, the LOUDER the cues, initially. Kind of like talking to a toddler, short, clear, loud words. You don't add subtlety until much later."

Yes, I always taught my greenies by yanking and kicking. They are not capable of feeling subtle cues.. Oh, and kids always respond better to yelling..

Sorry, sarcasm again.

I DISAGREE. My gosh, do I disagree..

Oye!!!!!

Sorry, now, at last, I am speechless.

Nice pictures of nephew and husband kidding around, Flip, peeking out from the hydrangea, and my delphiniums bluely blooming. That makes sense. The above? NOT SO MUCH.

Green horses and green riders are a match made in hell. For the horse.
Obviously, the above quote is from someone that cares not, for the horse.
Ribbons ReallY count, for some.

To Trainers and Coaches. Boy, do you need help, with opinions like THAT out there...
I can't believe it...

BTW, anybody out there got a general purpose horse? WTF is That? Must be a new breed or something.

I KnoW! Draft/Paint/Arab/Hackney/TB. Maybe throw in a bit of QH/TWH/SB. For kicks.
What do you get? Nothing at all, unless the horse is well trained, by an Experienced Trainer.

Good grief.
To Horses.
And trainers like kestrel & HP & FV & Trex..
Heaven help the horses with green trainers.

OH, and I have to report on the 10 year old Ontario SPCA Facility on Woodbine.
Wow.
Meghan Simpson mentioned a new program called Canine (& Feline) Personality tests, i.e. Canine-ality etc. Started by the ASPCA. Thanks, Yanks:)

Sure could work well in horses too, don't you think??

Little late for some, of course, poor things. ALL the animals I've known absolutely appreciated the absence of discomfort. It's a given.
Even for a trail horse. Yes, even them.

To Horses and their comfort. We ask them a huge question when we get on their backs. It's their answers we need to listen to.

sarcasm here... "Whack with a stick, step one. Kick with legs, step two, squeeze the breath out of them, step three, oh DRAT I forgot, Rake your sharpened spur into them, step one.. Whack with a stick, step two, ..." Sarcasm over.
fcik....
To Those Poor Horses..

NotSoNonchalant

Hellllp, hellp! I have no horse in front of me!! Help!!!!!!

Oh, this was such a bad show, late June, 1988. I'd had great success at a previous show, and this one was memorable for it's horridness. Nonchalant (Chaz) looooved his half-sister. Against my advice, owner decided to "bring her along, so Chaz wouldn't be lonely". Mare wasn't showing or anything. Fcik. Chaz started crying the moment we left the trailer. Of course, sister, in trailer, answered back. Allllll day.

It's a blessing, really, I have no over-fences pictures. Chaz lost me on the flip-side. Disappeared in front. I'm desperately trying not to touch him, but can you see how over-flexed he is?? I've got my leg on him, and I'm pressing, but the noodle just kept slipping around.. There's no weight in my hands at all. No point. His chin went to his chest, as he'd been previously trained to do. He kinda forgot about me.
Gahhh. See how low he is in the last stride on his leading leg! Heavy on the forehand much?

Are You My Sister??


In this shot, he's bleating for her. "Ooooooh, Sister, where ARE Youuuuuu?"

I'm laughing, and just sending Chaz forward. What the heck else could I do? Chaz couldn't be more um, disorganized. But I'm soft on him, at least.
He's a tiny bit better, here. I'm still just leaving him the heck alone.


Chaz looked and cried and carried on for sister for the rest of the show. It would have been okay if mare was showing. Why ME?? Chaz couldn't figure it out.

whine. Thanks for listening. Chaz's Owner was then rebuffed again, advances-towards-my-person-wise, and I lost the ride on Chaz and his siblings. Owner said it wasn't fun anymore. Yeah, not enough, I guess.

I have this picture too, and it makes me feel slightly happier with how I was riding. He isn't as heavy here.
But it sure ain't pretty. He's in the third time of his canter, and he felt like he was spilling all over the place. But at least he's not as low in front. I convinced him to come up a bit, without dropping his head to his chest. Yes, my elbow is out. Shoot me! Hah!


Then my mom died, 21 years ago tomorrow. June/July 1988 really sucked.

It's really the hardest thing GoLightly hammered into my thick skull. Leave the horse alone. No matter what, ride what you have at the moment. Chaz was like twenty-five horses, all at once, depending on which way he was facing that day. Sister is THIS way, I'm Sure!! Oh, where IS sister.. I had to ride each one in turn, patiently. The never really broke horses have twice as much road to recover. They have to learn avoidance is futile, without asking for more avoidance. It's bloody hard.

Tomorrow is always another day, Scarlett.

Did you know riding on soft asphalt is good for a horse's feet?? I sure didn't know that. Amazing what you can learn on the web, eh?
(SARCASmALERT)

FridayFunnyPicturesPlus!

One horse pic, because, well, it's funny. My first ride, 1963. I'm one happy kid. GUESS what the pony's name was?? Just guess..

Anybody remember my buddy Ami? Dearest old neighbour Mrs' Small's Black Standard Poodle? Mrs. Small refused to clip her poodle, thinking it was embarrassing and too "frou-frou" to inflict on her poor dear dog. After two years of fruitless arguing, I took matters into my own clippers. I returned him to Mrs. Small, after spending hours (again) removing burrs and stuff from his coat, but he was kinda odd looking. Think Arab Head, Clyde Body. Or Collie head, Great Pyrenees body. Anyway, I rather hurriedly returned him without stopping to chat... The phone call that ensued was hilarious.
"Bohbra, what has happened to my dog?"
Oh, Mrs. Small, I'm so sorry, I had to clip his head, as he'd gotten such terrible mats, and he was SO uncomfortable.
"WELL, Bahb, I can't walk THAT tomorrow morning, in PUBlic, can I??"
Why ever not, Mrs. Small??
hehehehehe. The groomer was called, at 8am the next morning. Mrs. Small got up early that day.


And, by miracle, the next day, Ami was transformed into..



Mrs. Small loved this picture. The table legs and Ami's legs have the same lovely curve and grace. And, you could finally SEE his legs! Dear Lorraine Tasker Small. After that, he was clipped every 6 months, and they lived happily ever after:)

Remember Samson? My husband's old Shepherd, the most amazing animal. Here he is, before I knew him, at three months old.


And 9 months later..

That's a LOT of dog..

Here's a good one. This is from Christmas, 1978. Picture makes me roflmao, every time. One madame, two tramps and a dweeb. left to right, Little Big sister, kid sister, mom and me geekily smiling..


To my USofA friends, have a wonderful Independence Day!
GO Andy Roddick!! It's like the darned revolution, all OVER again.
Tennis, people. It's a sport. Wimbledon?
Oh, never mind, you're all out riding.
Lucky witches..

FlyingThroughChanges

Spider, the jug-headed mare, 1982. Very smoooth moving girl. She'd spook when she shat.


My favourite stallyun, to honour Canada Day.


Scanned from Equitation - Henry Wynmalen, 1938


Scanned From Hunter Seat Equitation - George Morris 1971.
Line Drawing by Jan Conant.
You might have heard of George..

"A canter is the cure for every evil" - Disraeli

"Come, let me taste my horse, who is to bear me like a thunderbolt" - Shakespeare

Flying
One of the most beautiful movements to ride is the flying change. Swapping legs sounds so boring, and allows people to just look/feel for the front end swap. Disunited, or cross-cantering is the result of this type of request. i.e. The horse is cantering on the correct lead in front, but not behind. Feels horrible, awkward, disjointed. Like the horse is broke in two.

Much more rarely, the horse will swap behind only. That's usually a result of unsoundness of some sort. Even uglier to ride than a front only swap. And both are pretty ugly to watch. Watch for cross-cantering. It is a portent of uglier things to come, more often than not.

You cannot get a change with a heavy inside (the direction you're going) shoulder. Period.

Okay, okay, I'm TRYing not to tangent.. The canter, of course, is this sublime gait that some horses have. We all know the foot fall, yes? The horse in the second line drawing above is shown in the last stride of his right lead, with his right front on the ground, then the moment of suspension is shown next, all four feet off the ground, then the left lead, with his right hind taking the next beat. The third picture actually shows the second beat of the canter, in this case, inside (left)hind/outside front together on the ground. Blah, blah, blah.

It's the moment of suspension that freaks new riders out. AIRtime. The trot is such a "grounded" gait. The canter is the beginning of flying. A round, rocky rolling wondrous thing. The increased speed does lots of riders in. You are going faster. More can happen. So what? Oh, cantering...

One/two/three/fly, one/two/three/fly. Some horse's canters are more like one/two/three/one/two/three/one/two/three. Quick and flat. Some do what's called a four-beat canter, or what I like to call a caterpillar canter. One/two/trot/three/one/two/trot/three/one/two/trot/three. It's very comfortable to sit, actually. Sort of like riding a rolling table.

But the big movers. Oh, yeah. The canter is inherently exciting, being one gear below the gallop. My favourite canter EVER wasn't GoLightly's, truth be told. An ancient TB Hunter took that honour. Old Strokey, one/two/three/wait a half hour/one/two/three/wait a half hour/one/two/three/wait a half hour. He could canter at about three miles an hour.

GoLightly's canter was Huge. HUGE. ONE/twoooooooooo/threeeeeeeee/flying/Onnnnnnnnee/twoooooooooo/threeeeeeeee/flying. His stride was so adjustable, the suspension time was whatever you wanted it to be...

I first started consciously asking for flying changes whilst riding a mare with a gangly back end. The mare was a bit long-backed, a bit weak through her loins. The mare was one of my first horses that fell into my lap. I schooled her religiously, and worked hard to keep her balanced and straight. It was around this time that I visited my cousin, the one who put a thousand hours worth of flat work into me, in about a week.

ANYway, the problem with flying changes, is (for me) they are exciting! It feels so COOL! The first time I asked for a change from the mare, I got a beautiful clean change. I whooped and hollered, and scared the crap out of the poor mare. The best way to ride a change is to be matter-of-fact about it. It's no big deal to the horse, they do them all the time, out loose.

But don't ask for one, until your horse is already doing the following, easily.
Walk/canter, both ways. Simple changes (Canter/trot/canter) across the diagonal, and on the straightaway. Counter-cantering on straightaways. Simple changes as you change direction. Either canter/trot/canter, or canter/walk/canter. It is imperative that you keep the horse STRAIGHT, and light on his inside shoulder through his turns.

So many exercises will help that first request for a flying change. Just try not to whooop and holler when you get one. Scares the crap out of your horse.

OH, congratulations to Mario Deslauriers and Paradigm for winning the Nexen Derby at Spruce Meadows!!

GO CANADA!