90 Days

As life often has a way of going, mine has been considerably busy these past few weeks and I have neglected to write. It’s tricky when this happens because then I am faced with the task of picking out highlights to share and inevitably I forget key moments or ideas. That said I will do my best to catch up and hope not to fall so behind again. A lot has changed in my life this past week, but that is a story for another time. I actually wrote this post almost two weeks ago, but I don't want to muddy it with the new stuff. There will be plenty of time for that!

21 May 2018

We are well into month three and things are moving along, but we have intentionally slowed down a little so as not to push Ollie to hard. He is really young and thus still growing and my number one priority with him is to always to keep him the priority--my retired Belgian cross Rory was worked really hard when he was young. He was an Amish plow horse and now, at 11, he has developed joint issues and has old injuries that make him unrideable. I do not want the same for Oliver and Sean and I have been in constant communication about how to safely and respectfully train him.

Since I last wrote, I have done a few rides on my own with Oliver. This was intimidating to me at first, but by ride number three I felt much more confident. We are working now on getting Oliver to respond to cues under saddle and most of my work with him has to do with taking direction and moving around (both in the round pen and arena) at the walk. Sean has worked with him a the walk, trot and once at the canter and Oliver responded well, but even Sean has kept his last rides short and kept work at the walk.

Oliver is moving out better and better each ride. He still has his moments of resistance, but it seems mostly when he is trying to figure out what is asked of him. Once he gets it, he relaxes and moves forward. He is comfortable with turns, has a great “whoa” and is responsive to cues to back up. We will likely stick with these skills for now, though Sean may step things up in the coming month or so when he is working with Ollie on his own. I am heading up to our new home in Bend, Oregon and will dedicate the next month getting things ready so that the horses can join me in a few weeks.

Earlier today, I read a Facebook post written by a woman who is curious about possibly adopting a mustang for the first time. She asked great questions and got some good advice from members of the group about how to get started and what to expect. Reading her post and the replies got me thinking about my own reflections on this process as a first time mustang owner and, true to my teacher form, I thought it would be appropriate to step back and consider some takeaways that I have from these first 90 days of the Oliver adventure. So, in now particular order, and with humility because I am only an expert on my experience, I want to get down in words (and maybe a few pictures) those thoughts. If anything, it will be interesting to look back on them a few months from now to see if they have changed.

1. Find a community. This one I don’t think will change. When I first learned about mustangs and started to consider adopting one of my own I did so, really, because I already had a network and the luck of landing with my retired horse at a barn with an incredible mustang trainer. Those of you who have followed Oliver’s progress know that Sean Davies has been the key to all of this for me--I might have done it otherwise, but I doubt it would have gone very well without his guidance and support. In my time in Colorado, and more specifically at Sean and Dani’s ranch in Erie, I have seen firsthand what can happen when mustangs end up in the hands of people who lack the knowledge and experience to gentle and train them. They arrive in Sean’s care often--many of whom have been deemed dangerous or unrideable by folks who have approached working with a mustang as one might a domestic horse. Undoing the damage done to a mustang who has had a rough start can take months and even then many of them who have been mishandled retain their fearfulness. It is painful to see how many problems can be caused in such a short time and these animals deserve the best right from the start. If you don’t have the knowledge yourself, find someone who does. If you can’t, then a mustang is not for you.

2. Listen to your horse. I have learned a great deal from Oliver and it has really been a gift working with him. Throughout this process, though, Sean and other members in my horse community have reminded me to pay close attention to how Oliver responds to new things and to be sure to keep his needs the focus. While this is a learning process and great opportunity for me, it really isn’t about me at all in the end. What matters is that Oliver learns how to be a person’s partner without losing trust, but while also maintaining respect. He tells us when he is ready for new things and when he needs time to adjust. We do our best to listen.

3. Listen to yourself. That almost cliche idea that horses are a mirror rings even truer when you are working with a wild horse. I say this more from my experience watching some of the other (arguably more “wild”) horses at the barn. Establishing a strong, respectful confidence has been key for me (and is still a work in process). I need to pay close attention to this as I work with Oliver because the whole “fake it ‘til you make it” does NOT apply here. He knows the minute I question myself, so it is better for me to find ways to gain confidence by asking questions and seeking support, than it would be for me to just go forward with things on my own.

4. Try, when at all possible, to do it right the first time. This goes back to my observations of mustangs who have had negative experiences with trainers but also relates to my work with Ollie. The beauty of adopting a mustang is that, in many ways, he is a blank slate when it comes to people. Though many people have luck adopting mustangs who have had TIP trainers or who have gone through the prison training programs, it is really important to do so (I believe) knowing a bit about how those trainers’ processes. In watching Oliver and also Boone, the BLM mustang who arrived at the barn a week after Oliver, I have seen how mindful decisions are made as trust is built.

5. Be patient. This should probably be starred--or at least underlined. Oliver is a unique mustang in that he was born at a sanctuary and really came to us very trusting of people. That said, it has been really important to be patient with his progress and to keep in mind, always, what pace works best for him. We have had weeks where we have made huge strides and then those where we have simply maintained. Honestly, I have had little expectations about when we are “supposed” to reach different milestones and I think this has served us both well.

6. Love the process. Though I am generally more adept with words than I am with horses, I am not sure if I can, as of yet, find the words to express how incredible this process has been for me. Each step forward (and even those times we took a few steps back) has been an incredible learning experience. I have learned more about myself in working with Oliver than I have in a long, long time. Appreciating the incredible nature of this opportunity--I mean seriously, when I think of how this all came together I am still in awe: I met Sean, I heard an NPR story and I read a book. Three months later, I am still earning the right to my cowboy boots, but I have adopted what might be one of the sweetest mustangs in the west (though I am admittedly a little biased). While the end goal here may be a long term partnership with an incredible horse, the trail that leads there has been the most rewarding.

Spring Break

After a truly fun-filled weekend back east, it was still nice to return to a routine with Oliver. I can’t say he lost ground with the 5 days off, though he has seemed (more yesterday than today) a little antsy and definitely more mouthy. I think his teeth are bothering him and much as a toddler might he is trying to chew on anything he can. He also got his new halter and lead, which is the perfect color blue (I am a little biased).

Before heading down to the barn Tuesday, I read an interesting article that Rebecca (who brings Callie in for training) shared about horses’ ability to read human emotions. Apparently, horses and dogs share this unique ability/emotional intelligence and though I feel like most horse owners could have told you this without performing a study, it was nice to see some affirmation in print. I have also heard over the years from just about every horse person I know that horses often act as mirrors for people, and perhaps magnifying mirrors at that. They reflect emotion you may not even realize you have back out at you--sometimes in an unavoidable way. What a gift. What a complication. You can fake it until you make it with a horse--but the only one you are really fooling is yourself.

The more I learn, the more confidence I build (forgive the repetition--I know this is a theme) and thus convey in my interactions with Oliver. But, there are times where I know acknowledging my lack of confidence (which really stems from a lack of knowing what to do), hitting pause, and seeking support so I can come back and revisit is the best course of action. I ran into this during my last session alone with him before I left--both when picking up his feet and when working some obstacles, specifically the blue tarp (once familiar when flat on the ground, but horrifyingly novel when crumpled off to the side of the arena). In both incidences, Oliver responded unexpectedly: he got super nervous when I was cleaning his left hind foot and he lost his mind when I tried to lead him over the crumpled tarp monster. In response, I tried to push through with him, but then hit a point where I felt I might be doing more back-peddling than making progress and decided to move on to work on something with which I had greater confidence. I knew that next time I worked with Sean I would have a chance to revisit these scenarios and get some guidance.

I didn’t have to explain the foot issue today when Oliver and I were back to working with Sean because once I got to that stage of grooming Oliver he did a great job of demonstrating for me. 10 minutes and bloody knuckles later (my own doing--there was a hoof pick involved) I asked Sean to step in to see if he could figure out what was going on with Oliver. Sean’s eyes sparkled a little when I asked him the question in that way. I realized immediately that there was nothing going on with Oliver. This was affirmed when Sean approached Ollie’s left hind quietly, ran a hand down Oliver’s leg, and slowly and calmly lifted Oliver’s foot. Oliver stood stoic, quieter than he had been since I arrived. I tried really hard not to breath/sigh to audibly.

You must approach “with intention” and then “commit,” Sean explained. He also showed me how to better manipulate Oliver’s fetlock to get Oliver to lift his foot instead of me lifting for him. I took a breath and after 2 tries got it. It wasn’t pretty, but Oliver stood still and it was way better than all my previous attempts, so I will call it a win. I should throw in here that I have a subconscious fear of being kicked that throws me off in these situations; it’s subconscious to me, but apparently not to my equine looking glass.

Our second task was to work with the tarp. I explained to Sean what happened when I was alone, adding that one of the reasons I didn’t want to push Oliver at the time was because Maranda was riding in the arena and while she is a much better and more experienced horsewoman than I and could likely handle if there was a ripple effect, I didn’t want Oliver’s panic to throw her horse Beanie into a spin. Sean agreed that I made the right call by moving on and then went on to explain why the tarp in crumpled form could cause such a stir. I always appreciate what some folks might consider “digressions,” because in learning more about how horses think I better can understand the different training approaches. The stories, explanations, and connections Sean and others draw for me simply better help me to understand what I am learning and why.

Because they lack the depth perception had by those of us with front-facing eyes, horses are unable to determine whether tarps are flattened objects on the ground, or whether they are six-foot water holes. This is partly why tarp desensitization work is so helpful--it prepares horses to handle water. Additionally, predators often come up from the ground, so strangely shaped objects on the ground, especially if they are moved by some wind or a curious horse nose, can immediately spark fear in horses and often do. That said our first step with the crumpled tarp was to reintroduce it to Oliver from higher up (chest level), to give him a chance to smell it, to have him follow Sean while Sean was holding it and THEN to have him work on walking over it when it was placed on the ground.

Sean started by holding the tarp up to Oliver, who was clearly nonplussed by the introduction. In time, though, he sniffed it and then (of course) tried to eat it. Sean rubbed his neck with it and proceeded to essentially rub it all over his body, leaving it for a little bit on his back. Sean then took the tarp off and repeated the process with Oliver’s other side. After earning Oliver’s trust, Sean then put the tarp on the ground in the round pen and moved Oliver over it back and forth until it was no longer a big deal.

When I worked with Oliver again alone today, I repeated the process Sean had followed to the best of my memory. Oliver was still startled by the tarp at first, but I was able to lead him over it by the end in both directions (a few times) with some help and observational support from Renee, whose horse Lilly is currently in training with Sean as well. Renee had been with us in the arena the day before during our training session and she was able to help me to recall a few things (and also to provide tarp support when called on). Oliver and I were both grateful for the company.

Tuesday’s training continued with some more round pen work. Sean sat on Oliver a few times and though he declares these first rides I am still holding true to the idea that I will do the first REAL first ride when we are ready and Sean seems receptive to calling these first “sits” instead. Sean again reviewed some quick exercises to practice: moving Oliver in tight circles, side passes (which I attempted today and was only met with sidelong glances from Oliver that seemed to ask “What the hell are you doing?”), and walk-trot-canter transitions. We finished up by having me round pen Oliver for a bit off the halter. He is having trouble picking up the right lead canter again--mostly in the hind end--which seems to suggest some pain or weakness in his stifle (which we saw before) so we will have Caitlin look at him again to see if she can do some adjustments.

My work today with Oliver was rewarding in that I felt we were able to keep moving forward with most things. He was better when I picked up his feet (read: I was better when I picked up his feet) and overall less antsy than yesterday. One might say he was slow moving and I wondered if he might be a little sore from the workout yesterday. I also think he just sometimes likes to take it easy--and perhaps, in the days following some time off, needs an afternoon to relax after a dip back into work. Then again, that might just be me looking in the mirror.

Day 12: Happy Hour

Friday’s wind precluded riding again, so instead of a lesson for me, Sean and I decided instead to spend the time working with Ollie. I think in total we worked for about an hour, but in that time we were able to accomplish a great deal (and by “we” I mean Sean and Oliver in that for this session I really more of a camerawoman and cheerleader).

First up was obstacles and Oliver obliged as Sean set up barrels, a cavalletti, a wood bridge, a tarp “river,” and the dreaded hanging shredded tarp. He was most aware of the tarp as Sean carried and unfolded it, but he followed along closely regardless as Sean lay it flat and then carried poles over to hold down the sides.

Clearly, Oliver has a great deal of trust (which Sean noted we have worked hard to build and maintain), and this was evident as Sean lead him over and through a first run of the obstacles. First, he followed Sean over the barrels with not even momentary hesitation. The cavalletti was nothing. As they approached the bridge it was clear that a little more explanation was in order; the first time through, Oliver tried to go around the barrels that made up the sides, but once Sean moved him back and sent him forward, Oliver appeared to prance in slow motion his first steps across.

Some of our work with Oliver simply requires patience and moving through the hanging shredded tarp was a great example of this. While Oliver didn’t panic as Sean walked through it, he was hesitant; actually, his body language at first pretty clearly said “nope.” Sean waited on the other side of the tarp, alternating between applying a little pressure forward and gentle coaxing. Oliver was entirely uninterested in walking through, though he was aware that to get to Sean he would have to move through it eventually. So, we waited. After a little while Sean was able to get him to push his nose through, and then we waited some more. After a while, again with some coaxing, he walked through. Surprisingly, he didn’t spook or rush through as the flaps moved over his back. After that success, Sean moved him back through it a few times and Oliver seemed resigned to the fact that drama wasn’t called for.

We spent only a few minutes on each element, which seems to work for Oliver, whose attention span is, as noted, extremely short. To finish off the circuit, Sean brought him back to the barrels, this time asking him to approach at the trot and jump instead of walking over. He did beautifully and seemed quite pleased with himself after. 

For the second half of our time together, Sean brought Oliver into the round pen, worked on side passes from both directions, and then reintroduced the saddle pad. As before, Sean put the saddle pad on over and over again first from one side and then the other. This time, though, once the saddle pad was on instead of the surcingle, Sean walked over and grabbed a saddle, which Oliver eyed with interest (and apparently hunger as he tried to nibble on it). After following Sean around as he held the saddle, Oliver stood quietly as Sean put the saddle on his back. As with much of what we have done, Oliver was aware of the saddle and shifted a little under its weight, but he didn’t protest and he certainly didn’t blow up. Sean nodded and smiled at this (and I was glad I wasn’t the only one pleasantly surprised) and then he lead Oliver around to see how he would do carrying the saddle. Once it was clear we weren’t going to have any excitement, Sean buckled both cinches (leaving the back cinch very loose) and again moved Oliver around. Carefully. At first, Oliver paused to nose the stirrups as if to ask “What is THAT?"

As Sean noted when Oliver first tried walking with the surcingle on, points of transition (e.g. walk-trot) are where horses generally blow up or panic when first using new equipment. While we didn’t see much of anything with the surcingle, Oliver did seem uncertain as he started to trot with the saddle on and Sean quickly brought him down, changed direction and got him walking again. Honestly, I think it may have been the combination of the saddle and the wind, which by this point was shaking the metal doors on either side of the arena. But, whatever it was, Sean didn’t push it in the round pen, and after getting him to walk and trot briefly in both directions he took Oliver out to move him through the obstacles again, this time with the saddle. He did beautifully.

I’d say Day 12 was a real success: Oliver was certainly pleased with himself and honestly I couldn’t be prouder. The possibilities are going to be endless with this one.

Bubbles

As a teacher who currently works with a number of significantly disabled young adults (18+), one of my many roles is teaching students how to maintain personal space. Body language can be particularly challenging for certain folks, especially those who may face some spectrum-related challenges. Thus, the teachers I work with and I use pictures, create role-plays and also come up with verbal and physical cues to remind students when they are too close and to prompt them to give others personal space. The hope is to help them to develop an understanding of that personal space (or what we call “your bubble”) so that when they go out in the world they avoid the dangers that come along with invading someone else’s bubble (even innocently) as such can have disastrous consequences. Stick with me. This is not unrelated to my work at the barn today.

First, though, in my excitement yesterday, I forgot to secure the chain latch on the mustang pen. This morning, Maranda, who works at the ranch, found my new shaggy friend hanging out near one of the other paddocks, having freed himself at some point in the middle of the night. He wanted to make friends, apparently. She had him confined and Sean was able to walk up to him, catch him and lead him back in and both he and Maranda gave me a pass for my carelessness. It won’t happen again. Needless to say, when I arrived today he was back where he should be in what seems to be his default position, eyes closed, standing in the sunlight.

I had spoken to Sean earlier in the day and asked what I should work on since I assumed I would be on my own for the first time. We decided together that I would simply work on haltering, his getting used to being brushed and some leading. My biggest concern in all this is that I will somehow, in my naivete to the process, undo the progress we make with training or react in such a way that makes the horse fearful. I want to establish in him a healthy respect and not fear and I can describe to you what this might look like, but applying it in context is a different story. We are both learning. That said, I want to be able to do continue the work we do with Sean when I come myself so I can really be a part of the process.

I was able to halter him easily (a first for me with this guy) and we walked without incident from his pen over and into the arena. He is still a little skeptical of being inside (what is the point of a ceiling anyway?) but we explored and he was really brave as we approached the hanging tarp curtains, which always remind me of the yip-yip Martians from the Muppets, so of course they are super creepy-- all the other random things on the sidelines of the space like chairs and windows and the random sounds of dogs barking and horses anticipating their dinner in the barn hallway. As we walked around I noticed he was getting close to me and I tried to use some of the techniques I have learned to back him up, but he was not getting the message. This was my fault as I knew I was not saying it clearly enough, but truthfully I was afraid of being too “clear” and having him react.

After a little bit Sean came in and joined us and we spent about 20 minutes getting the gelding to back up, then move forward, then change direction and move forward again. (This will be a theme we touch on again and again for at least forever.) Dani was there two and both she and Sean talked about the importance of maintaining space with mustangs--even sweet ones like mine. It may be alright for other horses (read domestic ones) follow closely when leading, but given the potential for a strong reaction to just about anything from a mustang (mostly due to lack of understanding on his part) it is good to have about 6 ft of safe space when leading and it’s best that when you stop, they stop as well, maintaining that buffer of space. In keeping with his puppyish nature, my horse-dog wouldn’t have that; he clearly prefers to be close by and it took a great deal and some grand gestures for me to get my point across. I am getting it though, and I am slowly (Sean might qualify that with a “VERY”) gaining the confidence I am going to need to do these things on my own. It’s just the lack of truly knowing how this little guy will react to different pressures that keeps me cautious.

Once we got a little better at leading, stopping and space, we headed into the round pen for a short session moving around the circle. Again, I was learning how to push his shoulder out (he spirals in) and to keep him moving not-at-all gracefully, but still forward, on the circle. Though super bumpy, I still call the afternoon a real success for both of us. Small successes, sure. But that is the way this is going to work for at least the foreseeable future.

Last but not least, Sean was able to pick all four of the gelding’s feet up. Again, not beautiful, but honestly (and I am embarrassed to say this) he was almost better than Rory (my 12-year-old retired draft cross); he’s a little more delicate about his dancing around (Rory more leans in, bulldozes and sighs). For this young one, it seems like feet are not going to be an issue.

Getting to Work

Our first day of real training was full of surprises (even the training was a surprise--I was supposed to have a conference call, but unfortunately it was canceled). “Junior” (still no name!--from here on in I will sub some in to try them out) has really settled in nicely. When I walked up to his pen he had his eyes closed in the afternoon sunlight and he was listening calmly to Sean talk to another gentleman about the trip up to the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary. I caught the tail end; Sean was mentioning that a BLM mustang would be arriving at the farm this coming weekend and that we may see a big difference in temperament between him and Rumor (Rumi for short?).

First and foremost, Doc (Holiday of course) is super curious. He came right over to say hello when I arrived and seemed intent on getting to know all of our smells, especially the apple Sean was eating which he tasted surprisingly gracefully. He seemed surprised by the taste. Everything is new!

I had no idea where we would start, but Sean suggested we go into the arena; there was a lot going on outside (painting, dogs barking, etc.), so he went and got a halter and went in to get him. If this horse is fearful of people, he hides it well and Sean was able to walk right up and halter him and then lead him out and into the barn with the arena. Buddy made a few skittish steps: first when he encountered a hose (clearly a snake!) on the floor and then walking through the door (a dangerous cave!) into the indoor space, but nothing of note. Just like yesterday’s coyote run-in, he recovered from these moments remarkably quickly. We toured the whole of the arena and Dakotah followed along needing only a few reminders to give Sean his space. With that out of the way, we moved to the round pen.

Sean started off as he does (and has taught me to do) with all horses...he got him moving in a direction of Sean’s choosing. Sean noted that it wasn’t beautiful, but it was way more than I expected. Though he clearly had no idea what some of Sean’s cues meant, Amos was striving to please. He is not a super reactive horse and may need some encouragement to get moving, but he catches on quickly. Sean was able to get him to walk, trot and canter and even to let Sean picked up all four of his feet with mostly no real panic.

At each literal and figurative turn, I just smiled. I don’t think we could have picked a better horse for me. This little one (and Sean, too, of course) is going to teach me a great deal. I look forward to every minute.