Trials of Owning an Equine Supermodel

Not infrequently, I get asked by people how it is I have so many gorgeous pictures of Courage all the time. 

As tempting as it is to just bust out, "because I'm a bloody amazing photographer, bitches!" the truth is that Courage is a natural model. He's really, really, really ridiculously good looking and it's all the freaking time. That poses some natural challenges for me, his human accompaniment. Here is a list of some of them.

1) I'm not a super model. 

Unlike Courage, I have lumps and bad hair days and sometimes, my outfit just isn't cutting it. 

one of us is killing it

I mean, I love my hoodie and I'm fine with spending more time dressing C than myself every day of the week, but it does make for some unflattering contrasts. 

2) Everywhere we go, he gets recognized. 

I mean. It's fine. I know I'm his primary admirer and I'm the one who makes him famous, but basically every time the horse goes out in public, I hear "ooooooh look that's Courage". 

he always makes a splash

Do you know how many times I have been recognized in public? One. 

3) He requires an extensive wardrobe. 

You ordinary, average horse just wears whatever and nobody notices. 

yes more than one fully custom bridle

Courage is just so eye-catching and distinctive that I have a public duty to keep him in a steady lineup of finery. 

4) He needs more out of photographers. 

With Courage, I don't need some out-of-focus ass shot from that awkward moment in trot where it looks like the horse has two legs as sad proof of his existence. 

No. I need a PHOTOGRAPHER, someone who has high standards, excellent taste, and an eye for magic. Oh, and they have to like us enough that I can afford them, since all-out, pro-level photo shoots are just not in the budget every week.

5) It never stops. 

I can get all dolled up and look cute for a couple hours (hey, be nice), but then I revert to normal, you know? I think Carhartts are a good fashion statement. 

hullo fabulous

Whether Courage has pro lighting and accompaniment or he's just standing in his stall waiting for me to get my act together, he looks amazing. Like. Knock it off already. 

just posing like nbd

I don't have tips to make your horse a supermodel--I'm pretty sure it's just a genetic thing that makes Courage the way he is. I can say that if your horse doesn't spend his free time practicing showing off his best angles, thank your lucky stars. It's harder to get a good picture, but easier to look like you belong together.

The Plan (such as it is, subject to change)

Someone needs to tell 2016 that October is over. Until they do, I guess I'll appreciate the hearty doses of perspective I keep getting served up.

Here's where I'm at:

1) I really, genuinely like this horse and I'm (still) not ready to give up on him.
2) This year was really, genuinely awful and I don't want to do it again.

From where I sit, it looks like Courage is advancing well in his dressage training. On the days he shows up to play, he works hard, tries hard, and is definitely making progress. His body is changing. His muscles are changing.

Those days are great.

But there are also days where he flat doesn't show up to work. Doesn't want to play. Can't deal with life. Not just "a little bit doesn't want to" or "needs to go for a hack"--we're talking completely unmanageable, borderline dangerous, brain checked out, not coming back to earth stuff.

Everyone is going to have bad days, but for this to be worth it to me, the bad days need to be less frequent and they need to be less dramatic.

See, here's what's really interesting to me about this. For all his antics, Courage is never trying to get rid of me and he's really never trying to get away. He's massively claustrophobic, yes, but he's also terrified of freedom. He may leap and rear and bolt on the lunge line, but he never pulls away from me. He may break free at the trailer, but he immediately stops and wants to be caught.

That grabs my attention. This isn't a horse saying EFF YOU HUMANS. It's a horse with some rather severe emotional issues, but still issues that might be overcome-able.

And again, while I don't enjoy the leaping/bolting/flailing, I can and will ride it. We changed disciplines and trainers and everything for him and I don't resent him for that. Those things are fine with me, but I also need him to work with me on this.

The dressage training is definitely helping the good days, but I'm not sure it's improving the bad ones and I question trying to ask a pressure-averse horse to accept more pressure on days when he's already peaced out. If I show up and it's clearly a "not" day, saying "go sideways and step underneath yourself" doesn't seem to improve anything.

So I need a different approach. Something that addresses Courage's emotional instability and claustrophobia and teaches him different responses.

Dare I say it? We're officially in search of a good local cowboy. There will probably be a round pen. Pool noodles? Balloons? Flags? God only knows.

This is not something I undertake lightly--Courage is at best a fragile horse mentally, and I am not going to risk having him fried by someone who doesn't understand what we're after. I don't care if he can walk over bridges or get in the back of trucks or have guns fired off him or whatever. I don't need razzle dazzle and pizzaz.

I'm in search of someone who can get through to my man C-rage on an emotional level and help him learn some coping skills.

Existential Crisis x2

I have a standing Tuesday lesson. Theoretically. Last week, it got interrupted by a much-needed conversation with friends, which I was fine with because Courage did not show up to play and I figured it was good for him to at least have to stand there and have someone sit on him even if it wasn't what he really wanted.

Then there was this past Tuesday. I prepped--I had a decent-but-quiet ride Sunday and then went for a nice toodle Monday. No pressure. No pushing. At no point did I even pick up the reins. Just 25 minutes of hacking on the buckle, then eat cookies. 

I showed up for my Tuesday lesson. I had enlisted Alyssa to gather media. My mind was clear and calm. I caught my horse out of the field. I tacked up. 

And I got on tense horse who did not show up to play. 

and then trainer was like "uh get off and lunge before you die"

At all.

yup again. except because trotting. at home. in a straight line.

At. All. 

I've been struggling with this relationship (again) lately. I'm putting everything I can into it. I've changed trainers. Barns. Disciplines. I've backed off, started over, consulted pros, read and researched. I'm doing the absolute best I can. 

I've put almost two years into this horse in his present discipline. I've done over three years in total. We quit jumping, because he didn't like it. We left good trainers, because he didn't like them. We quit going to shows, because he wasn't coping. 

And three years later, it feels like he's less reliable than he was straight off the track. 

Now, I know Dr. Chiweenie and his cohorts Dr. Google and Dr. Internet are sitting over there screaming HE HAS ULCERS AND KISSING SPINES AND BAD CHI AND AND AND AND because trust me, not only do they comment here, but they also feel obliged to email me personally about how they are eminently qualified to diagnose actual medical conditions via computer. (They're the Dr. Phil AND Judge Judy, but of vet med.) But ok. 

Let's say I have 3-5k just sitting around to dump into this horse via various vet methods. 

Why the hell would I do it. 

Honestly, at this point, it sure seems like it would make more sense to buy a 3-5k horse that could, you know, be ridden regularly. Go to shows and not completely lose his shit. Actually try for me occasionally. 

It's not like I'm trying to get to the world championships of something. Hell, I don't care if I go to the regional championships. 

But I don't think it's unreasonable to want to go to a goddamn local schooling show and have a horse I can actually ride. I don't think it's nuts to expect that a horse living in it's ideal situation plus part time pro training to w/t/c around an arena a few days a week. I really don't. I think 99% of horses ought to be able to do that most of the time. 

I don't know why mine can't. I'm seriously questioning why he's mine in the first place. My trainer never, ever gives up on anyone and that's a great feature about her, but this is her livelihood. It's my hobby. That I do for fun. And maybe, if I stick it out and I don't know, spend the winter attending natural horsemanship clinics, I'll not only be able to ride my horse occasionally, but I'll also be the next freaking Tom Dorrance.

you can call me the wild stallion tamer

Or maybe I'm trying to force a situation that's never going to work. Maybe I'm putting years I'll never get back into a horse that isn't going to come around. Maybe it isn't meant to be. Maybe the reason I feel like I dump my heart and soul into this and get nothing back is because I'm missing the really obvious clues that this is never going to be a thing and maybe we'd all be better served if I moved on.

I don't have any answers right now. 

I know I don't believe in making decisions in the heat of the moment. I know that the fail photos I have plastered all over the internet would definitely be an impediment to selling. Come to think of it, this blog probably wouldn't help either. 

uh so if the whole thing disappears overnight, you know why

I'm at a loss, guys. It's not one bad ride or one missed lesson. It's not one bad show or one more stupid bolt. It's consistent. He's reliably unreliable for me. 

And frankly, I'm not sure why I'm here right now. It isn't fun. It isn't working. I'm learning a lot about how to manage a thousand pound diva that doesn't want to play, but I'm really not advancing my individual skill set in terms of moving up any level in any discipline and we're rapidly reaching the end of my willingness to put this much in to a situation and get nothing back. 

unless you counting lost shit. we have that in spades.

Maybe he needs to go to shows and do nothing but hand walk for the next five years. Maybe he just needs a change of scenery and a new person to thrive. Maybe if I stick it out another six months, I'll have a second level horse schooling third. 

Or maybe someone else will. And maybe they'll show up with him and beat me and my stupid new project horse I got off a feedlot somewhere at the third level championships.

But I'll go home and know that I have a partner who shows up to work. 

Honestly, that's all I want. The ability to work towards a goal with a reasonable expectation that we can achieve it. 

Is that so unreasonable?

PS I was obviously very emotional when I wrote this. I debated not posting it because it's quite raw, but what the hell. I specialize in being honest and this is/was honestly how I feel right now. So. Either that makes me a whiny bitch or I guess it's relateable that we all struggle sometimes. 

Answering the Nagging Questions

I've gotten a lot of questions about our latest round of show-fail, so here's my stab at addressing them in a more or less coherent way. I'm doing this in the most dickish way possible by interviewing myself. Questions are compiled from various sources and not exact questions from any one person.

Q) How do you feel about Courage now?
A) About the same. I've put a lot into him. I believe in him. I was disappointed and sad for a day, but failures are going to happen and I still have to move on. He's still cute, I'm still here, and we're going to figure this out.

Q) Does he have X vet problem?
A) Last I checked, vets had to actually physically check horses for problems (vs think about them on the internet) and to be a vet, they had to attend some sort of "schooling". I dunno. Never wanted to be a vet, so never looked into it. Regardless, I think medical advice needs to come from medical professionals. Either you assume that I am a good horse owner and deal with my horse responsibly or you assume that I am a shitty horse owner and don't. Either way, I generally don't take medical advice from strangers on the internet. I'd say you shouldn't either, but then I'd just be making a funny meta joke.

TRUST DR CHIWEENIE HE IS SO QUALIFIED

Q) How is this any different than the Hellmare?
A) If you've been around here long enough (YEARS), you might remember the Hellmare. She was actually remarkably physically similar to Courage if you disregard their plumbing. Well, that and the fact that she was pure evil. Courage has OPINIONZ. Izzy would actively try to kill me. I realize that might look the same to an outsider (or if I'm not writing well), but it works out to the difference between Courage letting me slide back in the tack after an incident and Izzy jamming me face-first into a rocky field because I was SLIGHTLY off balance. Intent is how they're different. Intent matters.

Q) Are you going to sell him?
A) No.  Even if I wanted to, which I don't, it would look something like this: for sale: older busted-up ex-racehorse with no professional training and no useful skills. Prone to bolting, leaping, and expressing himself. Not talented enough for pro, way too much for most ammies, doesn't take kindly to kids, not a jumper, hates trails. NO ONE BUYS THAT.

Q) Aren't you a terrible person because your training philosophy is slightly different then mine?
A) Of all the reasons I might be a terrible person, I wouldn't put this one that high on the list. YMMV.

I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and say that it's all butterflies and roses. It's not. I was really upset. Because I have a long, LONG junior career of being really terrible at shows, I can't say it's an unfamiliar feeling, which probably helped me rebound faster.

junior me would be so jealous

she couldn't even

I'll also admit that I was pretty damn jealous of the kid bopping around on the haffie pony while Courage flipped his shit, but then that ended right when the pony dirty bucked it's kid off and galloped loose through the warm up.

So here's the thing: horses are horses and from time to time, they're going to horse in ways we don't like. That's true whether you ride Valegro, Courage, my beloved Paddykins, a European Sex God, or a mule. The important thing is be sure that when you have those moments, you can deal with them.

mostly i deal by taking pictures

People with more means than myself can pay trainers to fix the bad parts, but I need to be able to ride through them. With Courage, I can (so far) handle it myself. He's athletic and can be a bit nutty, but he's never out to hurt me intentionally. I know what his range of reactions are, and I'm reasonably comfortable with them.

So yeah. I could try to get something else, but no horse is perfect and frankly, I like the the one I have.

most of the time anyways

Socially Awkward Equestrians United

non horsey people don't understand

Because I've met some of you, I know that I am not the only socially awkward equestrian out there. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that the reason most of us manage to blend in to non-horsey society at all is because we have online pony friends and blogs that let us scratch the itch so we can have occasional non-horsey conversations with co-workers and relatives and neighbors. 

But that still leaves us as a little socially awkward. 

For example: you possibly remember when I signed up for a dressage clinic at the fanciest barn in the area with a VERY BNT this spring. 

And then Courage wouldn't get on the trailer and I had to make this super-humiliating phone call (yes, AFTER introducing myself to the clinician while auditing) to say we weren't coming. 

Ahem. 

So I ran into the host trainer a few weeks back. She'd just hosted another clinic with said VERY BNT trainer that I was kindly invited to but was still too humiliated to show my face at. 

She says hello and is her usual super-polite self AND DIDN'T EVEN MENTION THE CLINIC and I'm all like "oh you just had another clinic. so sad it didn't fit into my work schedule so I couldn't come audit".

Which like.

Was a bald-faced lie. 

we do dressage better now

It didn't really fit into my work schedule, but that was 100% not the reason I wasn't there. I wasn't there because just thinking about it makes me want to sink through the floor and I hope that very kind gentleman who teaches the clinics forgets I ever existed. 

BUT WHY DID I BRING IT UP.

I don't know. Just awkward. 

cute Courage pic to cut the awkward a little

That's possibly almost as bad as the time I audited a Jimmy Wofford clinic. It was literally the week after he got turned down the the position of US Eventing coach, which was a basket he'd kind of put all his eggs in. Someone asked him about it and yeah, REALLY SORE SUBJECT. He did.not.want. to talk about it, which is fair. 

So all the riders go get ready. The friend I'm auditing with goes to get Jimmy coffee. It's just me and Jimmy Freaking Wofford, standing under the eaves of a house in the pouring rain. Side by side. 

And for the next 5 minutes, all I can think is "don't talk about the eventing coach position" and "don't say anything stupid that he might remember". 

So we stood there. You could cut the awkward with a Mack Truck. No knife required. To this day, I don't know what I could have said to him, because just thinking about the experience makes me so uncomfortable that I want to die. Oh, and yes, a trainer I rode with knew him and called him one time to ask about attending that clinic in another year. And he was like "please come. the people there are so weird".

same facility. no j wo.

And yeah, I know EXACTLY who he was talking about.

...which is why I'll probably never audit another  J Wo clinic. I bet he remembers. That was super weird. 

Ahem. 

So yes. Socially awkward. Any one else have a story to share? Please tell me I'm not alone.

Under Pressure: Language, Responsibility, and the Intelligent Animal

I'm a very practical person, despite my tendency to deck out everything equine in solid rhinestones. At the end of the day, kick=go, pull=stop, and I had better generally be getting more positive results than negative. I don't expect to be the best, but I do expect basic obedience.

And I don't think that's wrong.

However. There are multiple ways to go about getting it.

This spring, y'all probably remember Courage and I going through a rough patch. We basically did the same thing last spring (and both of those directly correlate with redacted). I've expressed frustration to various equine professionals and gotten a lot of different responses, none of which really satisfied me.

Here's the thing: the professionals I was interacting with weren't seeing the whole picture. Courage was. For various non-blogging-appropriate reasons, I have had two enormously shitty springs in a row. Like. Cannot even express how shitty. Really bad.

And so while Courage might have an attitude problem or struggle with spring weather or ulcers or a myriad of other potential problems, Occam's Razor suggests that the likeliest explanation is simply that I dragged all my shit to the barn with me and my incredibly sensitive thoroughbred (who mirrors everything I do) responded in kind.

I realize this isn't a popular opinion in training circles. I've been repeatedly told "the horse must give to pressure" and "don't let him get away with that" and the like.

But what if the horse already gave to the pressure I brought with me?

One (very bad) day last spring, I showed up to ride when Courage was turned out. He spent a solid half hour running away from me as fast as he could. Sweat was pouring off him and dripping on the ground. He was blowing like he'd just run a race, and he kept on running.

You could say that's because he's a thoroughbred.

Or you could observe that when I show up in a good mental state, he literally walks up and meets me.

The only variable that changes is me. My attitude, my emotions, my energy--they all feed directly into his behavior. This is why the right trainer is so important for both of us--an increase in tension creates a decrease in productivity.

Our current dressage trainer is far less concerned with showing and far more concerned with relaxation. "I have time" is the motto she lives by. I cannot even tell you how much good this has done for Courage. Instead of "pressure on, make him give", she just relaxes and everything is simple and what seems like treading water turns into leaps and bounds of forward progress.

I like to over-analyze everything, so I've tried to drag more information out of her. She doesn't say much, because so much of what she does is just feel for a horse on any given day. Still, it sparked an idea.

A few weeks back, I picked up Horsemanship Through Life, by Mark Rashid. Reading it was life altering. I'm not even exaggerating. I liked it so much that I promptly bought almost everything he's written off of amazon and bought a second copy of the book to mail to a friend.

He writes like my trainer teaches. Thoughtfully. Carefully. With the horse in mind. Without kowtowing to current training trends. One quote that's really stuck with me lately is this:

"Any behavior a horse offers is just information about how he feels. The only thing that makes that information good, bad, or indifferent is the importance we put on it."

BINGO.

I know it's unpopular among horse show people when I say Courage's flailing response represents me overfacing him and me pushing him too hard. Everyone immediately wants to say "IT'S HIS FAULT HE NEEDS TO LEARN TO DEAL". And maybe he does. But until I can present the information to him in chunks he can manage and I can build up his trust in me to the extent that he doesn't think he needs to check out of a situation to protect himself?

Until then, it's on me.

It's not his fault that he doesn't have a nuanced understanding of modern dressage principles. It's not his fault that he got too old to race (which he was good at) and landed in a sporthorse career where he's expected to do all kinds of new things. It's not his fault that everything that used to be the right answer is now the wrong answer and no matter what he does, he's doing it wrong.

Face it: that's fucking confusing, especially for an intelligent, sensitive animal that's used to being good at stuff.

That's what I've been working through lately. Then I read Saiph's post on Animal Behavior (it's long and so, so worth it) and I just wanted to jump up and down and scream YES THAT'S EXACTLY IT. As she so eloquently puts it, "Language is language is language, whether it be expressed with our voice and words or with our bodies, and animal body language is still a language."

This. So much this. Getting through to Courage is about much more than proper, correct riding--it's about learning to speak his language, so he can start to understand mine. Let's face it--people far more correct and skilled than myself can get on him and do all the right things, but that doesn't make him a fourth level horse. He only understands TO HERE (about training level and a third) and that is as far as it goes right now.

Rough patches are a part of training and they're never going to go away. However, if I know that I'm bringing baggage with me that will negatively affect my horse on any given day (or week) (or month) (or quarter) (or whatever), as the human in the relationship, I need to make choices that are fair to my equine partner.

If my life problems are clouding my judgement, it is on me (and not him) to make better choices, whether that means skipping the barn entirely, only doing ground work, or just having fun with no real training goals.

Those things build trust. Unleashing negative emotions on a non-participant sucks it away and makes a simple training setback into an insurmountable problem that is 100% my fault.

As horsemen, as trainers, as human beings, we owe it to our animals to do better.

Pressure doesn't fix a language gap. Shouting doesn't improve comprehension. 

So instead of cranking up the volume on my horse, it is my responsibility to show up to work each day with a clear, calm mind and a willingness to communicate. He's going to have good days and bad days, and that's perfectly normal. I have to check my baggage at the gate, appreciate my horse for who he is, and listen to him when he talks to me.


And then, we can have a conversation about moving forward.

Confidence and... Dressage? Sigh

it's a stretchy trot, ok?

So after my impulsive and rash decision and then my quite successful jumping lesson, I had a complete panic and scheduled a biomechanics lesson with S because...

Well. You know.

I CAN NOT HAZ DRESSAGE

(noted: no media from this lesson. all pictures are from other rides.)

And while I accept that clinics are all about learning and learning is great and all that, I just feel like if I'm going to sneak into a clinic full of fancy, competitive warmbloods on my green, self-"made" OTTB, well, I need to bring my A game so I don't look like the hick cousin we all ignore at parties. Does that make any sense?

this is good

Like I'm completely used to embarrassing myself in public and at shows, but if I'm riding for an internationally renowned clinician at a fancy barn that some kind soul invited me to, I don't want to be the idiot that everyone remembers.

And I realize that's probably too lofty of a goal.

Regardless. Lesson with S. It started out fantastic. She said I had nothing to worry about and that my position wasn't that bad and then promptly fixed everything. I felt like my hands were pretty much in Courage's ears, but I finally got them out of my lap. Body was up. Horse was forward.

She really emphasized sitting down on my horse while riding forward--which changes "MADLY CAREENING AROUND SKETCH FOOTING" to "hey, nice forward canter". Interesting. She was sensitive to Courage being green and pointed out that I always need to give him some place to go--like a small circle, but give him the inside rein.

We were having a grand old time and then she wanted one more canter.

(guess where this is going)

BOUNCE BABY BOUNCE

Courage was like "ENGAGE MELTDOWN MODE". And proceeded to hop up and down in place and fling himself around, which is the thing that immediately precedes the hijinks he's been favoring lately. So with S on hand, we played with different methods of addressing it.

It took a lot of hard riding on my part, but what really worked for us was to go to the place he was trying to get to anyways (the gate), then push my hands forward and loop the reins, and just clamp my legs down like vices and keeping him going forward.

And release when he listened.

You could totally see him go "well now this game is poo. nothing to have a fit about and just have to work ass."

I've got this better in jump tack

At this point, we are treating it as a behavioral pressure response--he goes really well until he hits his pressure limit and then he tries to take the pressure off by freaking out. If I take the pressure off (throw the reins away and relax), he calms down. So the goal is two fold--increase the amount of pressure he can deal with by doing 3-5 minutes hard work, then 3-5 minutes easy. This helps him increase his pressure tolerance and takes enough pressure off that he shouldn't hit the top of his limit.

Oh, and biggest takeaway from S?

"You ride him great. I know it feels precarious, but you're actually just fine. You need to trust yourself that you can handle this. Be more confident, because you've got this."