I ‘ve got to admit, it was a little intimidating when my
pumped-up four year old hurried down the ramp off the luxurious van that
delivered him. Fortunately, Willow was reasonably polite, and not having a place
to temporarily confine him for quarantine and getting aquainted, I had to go
ahead and turn him out into the large field with the other geldings. Amazingly, there were no fireworks and
everyone was friends from the get go. I love
geldings!
I occupied myself with ground work and manners for most of
the first year. I’m not in any hurry,
and I don’t have an agenda with my horses.
I used to, but I guess it’s one of the things I grew out of. There’s nothing wrong with having goals, they’re
great, and I still have them too, but I’m happy with any improvement of anything at all every time I’m with my
horse, and I’m never disappointed.
Something’s almost always better than it was before. It makes every interaction a happy one and a
cause for quiet celebration. So, Willow
and I worked on things like fly-spraying
on a loose or dropped lead shank (no good place to tie up anyway), voice
commands, lunging, tieing, and walking fairly politely. It actually took me until the last year or two
before I achieved all my fly-spraying goals.
To begin with I was satisfied to be able to get the spray on the horse!
It took me probably an hour of “lead
shank lunging” to get Willow to where I could spray him without him leaping and
backing out of reach. While I still can’t
spray him without a halter---and the little bugger knows it--- I’m thrilled to
be able to drop the shank on the ground and have him stand---stiffly---for
it!
At this point I realized I’d bitten off quite a large chunk
by getting a green horse. I know I’m out
of shape and therefore can’t possibly have the seat I think I used to have, and I’m always alone when I’m working my
horses, and I’ve never had access to a ring.
This equation made me do everything in the tiniest baby steps I could
possibly devise. First, I had Willow
broken to drive, reasoning that that would polish up his bridle skills, and
give him lots of “real world” experience, which it definitely accomplished.
In the six years I’ve had him, Willow’s gotten
a very easy ride, so to speak. Most
years I’ve only ridden him about ten times on average. Chronic depression holds me back quite a
bit. It’s hard to work up the energy to
get your “baby” out when it’s all you can do to get him fed and minimally cared
for. Another major factor is I’d
forgotten what Saddlebreds are like in the pasture. And this I kick myself for often. Typically, Willow acts like a nut in the
pasture, given to blowing, scooting, and running at the slightest provocation. With
the abovementioned limitations foremost in my mind, I would watch him and
think, “well I sure don’t feel up to dealing with that today!” I’m embarrassed
to say it took me years to realize that immediately you put your hand on him,
Willow is a saint. A totally different
horse, from the way he acts loose in the field.
Once I realized that it freed me up to ride him a bit more because I
didn’t have to feel totally on top of my game to ride and enjoy him. I ride him a little more often now, maybe
fifteen times a year, just slow mileage on the trails. He’s amazingly brave! At least with hazards and obstacles. He loves water, and I can ride him up to a
loaded, idling logging truck with no hesitation from my wonderful boy. The only thing he’s really scared of is a
stranger. He’ll never forget his
earliest training.
Two years ago we accomplished our biggest goal so far,
participating in a Mark Rashid clinic!
At the time Willow still had only about twenty-odd rides under his
belt. It was a freezing January weekend,
and in my usual fashion, I hadn’t ridden him in two weeks. Our goals for the clinic were relatively
small, just to go forward more reliably, steer better, be in general the best
partnership we could be, and hopefully, see if we were on the right paths. I’d had no professional help and no one to
troubleshoot for me, and was extremely afraid I might be doing things wrong
without knowing it. Willow was great,
and probably the very most valuable thing I got from the clinic was the enthusiasm
of the auditors for my little “cripple”.
I don’t think Mark was particularly impressed with us, but he helped us
as much as he could, especially with standing still for mounting, leading
perfectly, and the steering issue. I
guess we weren’t in the same class as most of the other “serious” rider/horse
combinations.
After evaluation,
Mark described Willow as “seriously physically compromised”, which I guess is
fair, especially if you intend to do something particularly physically
demanding with your horse. Which, in
fact, I don’t. I’ll be happy with
whatever Willow can give me, I didn’t get him with hard mileage in mind. Long mileage, possibly, but not
pounding. Anyway, Willow rose to the
occasion with his usual steadfastness. Surrounded
by dressage horses, reiners, and snorty little endurance horses working on
their gallops back and forth almost under his nose, he was perfect. Stood like a champ, unfazed by it all.
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