Lesson Success. Finally.

He is the best at lessons with S

After much hemming and hawing (by me), S came out for a lesson on Sunday. You probably remember her as our fantastic biomechanics coach. She's also the only instructor that sees my little man on anything like a consistent basis and I really just needed straight up feedback on what in the world I was supposed to be doing with him.

I told her what we've been through recently. I told her what we've worked on. I didn't realize how upset I was about all this until I was very matter-of-fact-ly explaining it to her and realized just how badly I wanted to cry. And I'm not a crying person. And neither is she.

So I didn't, but I feel like I should get some bonus points for keeping it together.

Sprenger on the hunter bridle. Works.

Anyways. She basically said that it sounds like we're looking at a couple of issues combined. In no particular order:

1) Courage is opinionated about life and doesn't quite accept me as the alpha in our relationship.

1) Courage doesn't quite understand how to use his body in relationship to a jump just yet. He's green.

1) Despite his amiable demeanor, Courage is really picky about how the bit/HIS FACE are handled.

1) My cross country anxiety isn't helping anything.

Interesting note: of the three issues, only one of them is all me. S, while an amateur herself, pointed out that the trap ammies tend to fall into is immediately mistrusting and blaming themselves in all situations. While that isn't bad, it allows horses to skate by with some slightly bad behavior and sets them up for worse problems in the long run.

So lesson.

We started just doing lots of forward and back transitions. The focus was on PROMPTNESS. In order to address the greenness/alpha issue, I needed to set him up, ask, and then KILL HIM IF I HAD TO ASK AGAIN. Because he is clever, I only had to do that once. The entire ride.

Hole punch not available. Knot tied.

Next, we added in a highly sophisticated piece of equipment used by respected equine professionals around the world: a neckstrap. Because I'm a tack 'ho, I have a purpose made one. Obviously. Anyways. We adjusted it so that it was short enough to sit about halfway up his neck (measurement very approximate) and I got a crash course in it's uses.

Then we jumped.

Specifically, we trotted over poles. To address the "DON'T TOUCH MA FAYZ" issue, I had to ride forward (!!) around the turn to the jump, then put both hands on the neckstrap and just sit there. He could do anything he wanted and I just had to not ever touch his face for any reason on the approach, the jump, the landing, or really even several strides afterwards.

So felt like we galloped this, but just canter

As S pointed out, it's not even that I really catch him in the face (other than the deer leaping). It can be as simple as putting him back together too soon after the jump and not letting him finish the mental process. Or pulling on him on a crossrails derby course. Or whatever. Mentally, that's where he's at and we have to address it.

The poles went up to crossrails, then verticals, then even an oxer. We trotted into the oxer (with placing poles on both sides), and cantered the vertical. Every jump, I had to come around the corner, grab the strap, and just.kick.the.horse. GO.FORWARD. I don't know why riding freely forward is so damn hard for me, but that's where I'm at.

Now oxer certified. Finally.

Courage was good. He started out really apprehensive, but especially in our last round, he started to accept the exercise and really take me to the fences. His eye got softer and the ride got a little easier.

S says he needs hundreds of these jumps right now. Not big or hard or scary, but freely flowing forward, so he can build new memories and learn what he's doing.

We both need it.

Me and my neckstrap, we're getting acquainted.