Horsemanship, Relationships, and Success: A Closer Look

Alyssa came out and took some BEAUTIFUL pictures of Courage and I the other day.

right? how did she do this in an indoor??

Well let's back up.

First level is stressing me out. Mostly in a good way, but it's there. Even with an indoor, it's hard to ride in the winter. It's impossible to be consistent, and 85% of the time, I'm more concerned with relaxation than actually doing anything interesting (though when I word it that way, it actually seems like a good thing).

we've come a long ways in two years

I am a very driven, motivated person, especially with a big goal and a deadline staring me in the face. That makes it hard to accept that three days a week, I just toodle around the indoor on the buckle and chat with friends to give Courage a physical and mental break. I want to just WORK WORK WORK GIT 'ER DONE all day every day to super-extra-double guarantee that we don't embarrass ourselves at shows this year.

But I can't.

My horse would go nuts.

More importantly, I'd burn both of us out and change riding from a hobby that I enjoy to an all-consuming task that isn't fun for anyone.

And no one wants that, really.

So when Alyssa came out and took some beautiful pictures of us the other day, it was an amazing reminder of what I'm building with Courage. Not just pie-in-the-sky goals. Not just a vehicle to chase an arbitrary award from a bureaucratic organization that really is just in it for the money. That isn't what first attracted me to horses. If and when we achieve it, that won't be the pinnacle of why I'm here. I came to horses because I want more.

A relationship with a living being.

A partnership between predator and prey.

A subversion of the natural order of things in a way so simple and beautiful that it defies explanation.

Horses bring out that which is most in us--cruel people are made crueler and kind people are made kinder, all from the influence of the horse. They are a breathing thousand-pound microscope highlighting all that which is strongest in us.

And to me, the most and dearest and best thing is that relationship, that partnership. Not the awards. Not the satin. Not the glory.

It's going into his stall and breathing in the essential aura of horse. It's knowing that despite our disparate backgrounds--predator vs prey--centuries of blue blood vs middle class girl from nowhere--we can come together and be something more than just the sum of ourselves.

Something indefinably beautiful, even if only to ourselves.

I know everyone else sees a stiff old warhorse, a washed-up racehorse, a lower level dressage horse that's never going to "amount" to anything. He's a failed event horse. A creature too difficult for the average ammy and too old and plain to interest top talent.

That's not what I see. To me, Courage has become one of the most beautiful and amazing horses to ever grace the planet. I see the fanciest horse I've ever been lucky enough to call mine. I see soft brown eyes and a fighting spirit. A worthy partner. A fellow creature who challenges me to be the very best version of myself, every single day. He's someone who pushes me. Someone who makes me try. Someone who reminds me every day that success isn't counted in year-end points or national awards or public recognition.

Success is waking up every day and being proud of who I am. Proud of who I'm becoming. Success is doing all the hard work behind the scenes that no one will ever see or appreciate to create the groundwork of the person that I've always wanted to be. Success is going to bed at night satisfied with the life I lived that day.

Success is so much more than horse shows.

I still want my bronze medal. I'm still going to panic about not being ready and if I'm good enough and if I've trained Courage correctly and ALL the minutiae that's tied up in this silly sport of ours.

But if we never show again, never garner another ridiculously overpriced piece of $2 satin, I already know I've achieved everything I came here for.

everything.

The Right Horse at the Right Time

Several of you have posted about how you met/got your horses and it was just meant to be. There was a moment when you just knew that you were meant for each other. I think that's beautiful.

It never happened to me.

What I want to do today is follow in Kate's theme (initially brought up by Denali's Mom) about how you and your horse resemble each other.

When I was in highschool and riding, I leased an amazing OTTB mare named Cassie. She was light, catty, athletic, and really, really nervous. She was also aloof to most people, possessive of me, and touchy. We mirrored each other in a lot of ways--we even picked up bad habits from each other. To this day, I tend to walk backwards when I'm nervous--learned it from her. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was very sensitive to other people, not prone to making a lot of friends, and generally felt out of place, just like she did. Like her, however, I earned my place by my accomplishments, though I still didn't have a lot of friends. When she had her baby, I was one of two people (the other was the BO) who she allowed to come in the stall and see it. (Funny thing: the baby was Izzy). When I started riding other horses, Cassie let me know it was not ok. Instead of meeting me at the gate, she would pin her ears and make me come get her. The remedy to the situation was to feed her a treat before I even looked at another horse. Then she knew she was still first.

I pretty much quit riding in college--I didn't have time and I was exploring other interests. I still worked at the barn once a week for my horsey fix, but Cassie was having babies and I didn't have the time to invest in another horse, so not much happened.

In a gesture of absolute horsey-person kindness, the BO gave me Cassie's last baby, a lovely little TB/Friesian cross filly.
This is her first time wearing a halter, hanging out with her mommy, my beloved Cassie. FYI, Cassie is a super, super hard keeper with a baby on her. Yes, she's ribby in this picture, but she was eating like half a bale of fabulous hay a day, plus getting senior and vitamins and beet pulp. I think she just spent so much nervous energy defending her baby from any other horse ever looking at her that it was almost impossible to keep enough weight on her.

I really liked the baby whom I dubbed ' Natasya' after her Daddy, Nikolai.

Then this happened:
I hadn't seen Izzy since her owner took her away as a weanling, but I immediately recognized her--the funny facial marking, the friendly personality, the lovely conformation. I didn't need anyone to tell me who the tall, gorgeous new mare was when she showed up one day. Then her owner bought another horse, bringing her total up to three, and I heard that she planned to sell Izzy. At this point, I wasn't attached. I had patted Izzy and said hello, but I don't like to bond with other people's horses, so I'd pretty much left her alone.


The more I thought about Izzy being for sale, the more the wheels turned in my head. I was newly married and in college. I had plenty of time (ha!) to train a horse, but in a couple years, when my baby was ready to start, there was no telling where I'd be in life. I asked a few questions about money and horse value (none about training), and then proposed (through the BO) a trade.

Izzy's owner took a couple weeks to think it over, during which my feelings wildly vacillated. Half the time I thought I was making a huge mistake. I didn't know what kind of baggage Izzy came with, but I knew her owner couldn't handle her. Besides, my baby was super nice. What if I was trading a super nice horse for a mediocre one that I'd never really like? Ultimately, I knew I'd be ok whichever way my offer came out. I really liked my baby, but the timing was just better for Izzy, who was 5 at the time.

On February 1, 2009, I found myself as the proud owner of a barely-handled, quite muddy Oldenburg mare, registered name Isadora. I was elated.

And then I started hearing stories... the weather had finally started to improve, so I was actually starting to see other boarders. I learned that the way all the other boarders were introduced to Izzy and her former owner was by watching the mare break free and run off, then helping to catch her. They thought I was completely crazy for giving up such a nice horse to take on a crazy one. I went to the store, bought myself a rope halter, and went for it.

It was a long, trying process, some of which you have gotten to witness through our blog. One of our more memorable early moments was when Izzy decided to pull the same prank on me that she did for her previous owner--she pulled back while tied. Fortunately for both of us, I had actually tied her with the rope halter. There was nothing I could or would do but stand back and watched. She pulled with all her might for about 30 seconds. Then you saw the wheels turn in her head; her ears flicked back and forth, and then she just stepped forward and gave. She's never done it again. Smart girl.

I don't wonder if I did the right thing anymore. Izzy has turned into a fabulous horse. Really, we've been able to grow together. She and I very much mirror each other at this point in life. We're both pretty calm, but there's always the potential for nerves. We're willing to try new things, but we tend to prefer our routines. We're relatively even-keeled, but we definitely have a temper that we'll express when pushed. We figure stuff out... hard or easy, we'll get there. We express when we're not happy, and you will always know where you stand with us.

Plus, you can read everything in our faces. We can't lie for anything.

Well, Hopefully That's Over

I stuck to my plan for this morning. Izzy ran for almost 10 minutes, then I tacked her up quickly. I left off her splint boots and just brushed her off quickly instead of doing a thorough job and making her spotless.

We did so much better. She didn't rear on the lunge. I just put her out there, sent her forward, and as soon as we had walked, trotted, and cantered both ways, we were done. When I got on, we did transitions. Lots of them. I tried to ask for a transition every 5 or 10 steps, so she had to think constantly. At the same time, because we were the only ones in the arena, I got to focus more on my position and aids then on not getting hit by people who should be able to steer. We're still just doing walk/trot stuff, but I think we're getting to a place where cantering won't be unreasonable.

I realized yesterday that the turn on the forehand that Cathy had us work on is actually the prelude to lateral work. Perfect! I need to get Izzy moving off my leg a little bit, so we worked on this too.

All in all, a successful training day.

Progress

It's nice when I can actually see progress. Izzy didn't want to work hard this morning, but again, I was using what we worked on in our lesson and it went well. She resisted a little bit by trying to not go forward, but eventually, we did trot.

Also, the gnats have been bothering her when we ride, so today, I got her a cool little ear net thing to wear. She'll look like a big, fancy show jumper, except for the part about being trained. I also ordered a brass nameplate for the back of my saddle, to cover the part where someone else used to have one. We're getting all classy.

On top of all that, another boarder offered to give me a pair of black beeches. I'm kind of excited... I've never had any color other than tan. Oh, and Michelle and I are going to get our ponies all cleaned up and take pictures tomorrow. Watch for those when I get access to a computer again. I haven't replaced the power cord on my laptop since my beagle at it a few months ago.