Grass

A widely held tenet of horsemanship is that your horse should regard you as the leader of your herd of two. This is a conversation I often have with Molly because she is so headstrong and I am really, I suppose, inherently democratic.

Still, I press on. The latest arena in which this dynamic is playing out is the grassy field. Molly gets plenty of good quality hay but she adores grass.

Many people who have horses will wait to feed them till after they work, both as a reward and to avoid digestive issues. But Molly had clearly often gone hungry by the time she came to Duane's, and she was anxious and ill tempered prior to feeding time. I used to get to the barn early enough before lessons to give her her morning hay. This way she was noticeably easier to work with. Then I would take her for grass afterwards.

Later, I took to letting her have grass while I groomed her and tacked her up, thinking this would make her even more amenable. At the new barn, there is a gorgeous grassy patch on the way to the tack room, so this summer I have been letting her eat grass while I groom her.

Experienced reader, you can see where this is heading. She recently began charging toward the grass as soon as we got out of her paddock. This is dangerous as well as rude and I clearly had to take her in hand. Connie and Duane had had to do something similar because early on, Molly was just unmanageable. So I learned from them how to correct her and insist that she mind. It is not easy, and requires absolute consistency in order to be effective. We are making progress again.

So much has been written about horsemanship. Mules seem to need both a firm hand and a certain sympathy. It is a journey to learn about all these things, and decide what to try, and see what works.

The River

Molly and I went into the river. Intentionally!

The first couple of times I hand walked her in following C. on Monet or Koda. When I first rode her in she displayed her usual caution by stopping, going to the left, then the right, and backing up. I kept tapping her with my legs and encouraging her. Finally she walked right up to the edge, stopped dead, and dropped her head low, staring down into the unknown depths.

It must be very disconcerting for our equines when we ask them to do new things. This is one reason it always knocks me out when Molly goes ahead and gives something a try. What is she knitting together in her mind, from all her past experiences along with her current observations?

What I finally did was keep her between my legs and hands and keep saying, "You can do it! I know you can!" while C. and her mount gave further support. And in we went.

Keeping your horse between your legs and hands is one of those bits of equestrian instruction that you read in every book and hear from every instructor. You may be thinking, "But she is already there!" or "If she's not there, then where is she?" or even just "Whaaat?" This is the first time it's ever worked for me. It seems like the type of thing you can't really do until you know how to do it. This is one of the mysteries and challenges of riding, this weaving together of an idea, a feeling, and a body over time.

I often think of all my instructors, who must have looked at me in my nervous, middle aged, poorly postured form and just sighed and got on with it. In the hours that they spent with me they were laying a good foundation for both my intellectual and physical development, but the going was so slow it often seemed like nothing was happening at all.  

Here's the river, without two equines and two humans to make a ruckus.