There is a saying that true horseman know that no tricks or gimmicks will ever replace soft hands, long miles and wet saddle blankets. I just needed time with Stat. He needed to have that constant exposure of working with me to have the habits take in his mind. To understand what I was asking of him and for me to figure out how to correctly ask him to do what I wanted. So many things come down to communication.
To assist with this communication, I jumped at the chance to enrol the both of us into a horsemanship clinic that was facilitated by Wayne, our barefoot trimmer. Whenever Wayne comes to do our horses feet, I marvel at the quiet and calm manner in which he handles the precocious Bree, or the ADHD Stat.
The clinic was going to be held at a farmlet owned by a friend of Wayne's called Gary. To get there I had to float Stat by myself. this was the first on several levels. Stat and I were being let loose on the world with no adult supervision.
The journey through Dunedin consisted of me spending a lot of time talking to myself. I wanted to give a smooth a ride as I could for Stat in the back and the numerous traffic lights that I had to go through in Dunedin did not help. So I reverted back to an old routine that I use to use when driving ambulances. I gave myself a certain Go-No Go decision point at a distance out from each traffic light. Before I reached this particular imaginary point I could pull up smoothly, slowly and safely if I had to. Beyond this point, then I was committed to going through the intersection, regardless. Its the little things that help.
It still did not make it any less stressful and the stress levels just kept rising. Wayne had been quite specific as to needing to ensure that I did not overshoot the entrance way to the paddock where he was holding the clinic. It was down a dirt road, past a small one lane bridge and after a paddock with a round pen in it on the right hand side. I do love explicit directions.
Sure enough, I overshot. I pulled into the first driveway after where I thought the paddock was (I was the first there it seemed. Sarah, who was going to a meeting out in the same area that the clinic was being held had followed me and she helped me unload. We decided to put Stat for the time being in the next door paddock to the one that the clinic was being held until we determined if we were actually in the right place.
About ten minutes later Wayne and Gary turn up confirming that we were actually in the right place. So I moved the float, then Stat in to the area of the clinic and we waited for the rest of the course participants to turn up. Soon several horse transports arrived and we all stood around with our horses quietly talking amongst ourselves as to the various reasons as to why we currently found ourselves standing in a field so early on a Saturday morning. Our horses all seemed a bit weary of the proceedings and were watching intently to all things that were going on.
Wayne started off by describing how the day would pan out, what we could expect and some of the key points that he wanted us to take away. We would be doing ground work on the first day and then depending on how things were going we would be on the horses back for the second day.
Wayne started us off with lunging in circles with our horses. Under his watchful eye he picked up that I was having troubles starting Stat off and after trying a few things he settled on that I had to get further back than the normal position of just behind Stats front quarter, so that my presence would make him move forward easier. I also received clearer instruction in how to make Stat change direction cleaner.
Wayne quickly picked up that Stat would do the bare minimum to get by. He needed some motivation. Another thing that I could relate to.
We broke for morning tea and I went to tie Stat back up to the float while I got a coffee. Wayne tells me to just drape the lead rope over Stat's back and let him go. I was a bit hesitant at this, I mean to say, Stat had managed to get himself into some pretty precarious positions even in the short time that I had known him. Wayne laughed it away. Let him go, if he gets into trouble, part of it is letting him figure it out himself how to extricate himself from a situation.
So I let him go, he wandered off to see what some of the other horses were up to as they meandered around the paddock, disappearing down into a small dip in the land. Five minutes later he comes wandering back up the incline into view. I look over to him and notice that he now no longer is wearing his rope halter and lead rope. Oh jeez, how did you manage to accomplish that?
So I spend the next ten minutes left of the morning tea, wandering around the paddock trying to find his halter and lead rope. I come cross it in the long grass and hurry back as the group starts to reform.
It didn't stop there though. Lunch rolled around and as we stood around tucking into our packed lunches, Stat this time wants to hang around where all the action is. At one stage, whilst Wayne is distracted talking to a course participant, Stat walks up behind him and reaches over to try and take the sandwich which Wayne had in his hand. The embarrassment! I try to do the whole, whose horse is that, but people aren't fooled, they all know who the class clown is.
The rest of the say is spent doing hind quarter yields and forequarter turns. I am constantly getting my hands the wrong way down, confusing myself and in the end Stat. we end up both just looking at each other with the same "huh?" expression on our faces. Thankfully Wayne is on hand to come over and untangle us.
During afternoon tea, Stat once again shone. I am there chatting away with the other participants when I looked over to see Stat by the gate to the paddock (he had probably been hopping to flag down a passing car for a lift back home) standing there with his lead rope wrapped around both of his front ankles, effectively hobbled.
this was interesting as Stat's normal reactions to when he stands on his lead rope is to violently jerk backwards in an attempt to escape. but instead, this time he was just standing there immobilised.
"See", Wayne pointed out, "leave him alone to get himself into a predicament of his own making and he himself has to figure out what to do next. In this case he has decided the only thing he can do is stand still".
Point taken. I head over to release him from his cuffs, thinking that I am maybe a bit too over protective of the idiot. He has to learn things for himself.
We end the day and I bed Stat down in his temporary accommodation. Gary has been gracious enough to let me leave Stat in his paddock. I just didn't want to go through the transporting him home again, just to bring him back the next morning. my nerves would not be up to that sort of stress.
I thoroughly enjoyed the day. if nothing else, it was just so satisfying spending the entire day with Stat even through his shenanigans. Tomorrow promised to be just as entertaining and mentally exhausting.
I got to the paddock early (after picking up a double shot latte), I felt that I would need it for the trials ahead) to see how Stat fared the night. He came racing up to the fence, nickering away as if telling me all about the night he had just experienced. Gary meet up with me and said that Stat had called out for part of the night but in the end had been distracted by all the long sweet, sweet green grass of his paddock. Oh goody, I now have a horse high on grass as well. Excellent.......
Today's work was all going to be in the saddle. Once we had all gathered Wayne wanted us to tack up. Still feeling a bit like the newbie, I got Stat all done and was waiting for further instructions. A fellow course participant tacking up beside me calls me over for some help in fitting the bridle onto his horse.
Who? Me?
You mean that there is someone else here with even less knowledge? Amazing!
"Sure", I drawled and swaggered over to him.
"Aha, mmm, yep, try this strap here....... thats better, now buckle that one there and..... okay, there you have it"
"Thanks" he said, with a heart felt sigh", I'm new to riding and and am still having troubles with the gear".
"Don't worry about it, the 'tack' (I gently corrected him) does take some getting use to" I sagely replied. "We all had to start somewhere" I quietly said whilst gazing off into the distance, giving the air of one with many dusty trails under the belt and more desert crossings than I could care to remember.
With a nod, I turned and sauntered back to where Stat was standing patiently, with a sort of "What the Hell?" expression. Only to notice that I had managed to put his rope halter on inside out.
Oops, before anyone saw (especially the newer Newbie) I quickly put it right.
After mounting up, Wayne started us putting what we had learnt the day before into practice. Hind quarter yields are important to bring a horse back into control, he explains.
Oh, that could be important for the future, I think to myself as Stat is starting to get a little belligerent under saddle.
What the Hell?! as he suddenly starts spinning to the right. I pull him up and he suddenly starts spinning to the left. Something is not right. As sudden as it started, the spinning stops. Weird.
We get back into line and we continue with the exercises. we now have a little bucking added into the mix. I growl at Stat to "settle down!"
More shying and a couple of small bucks.
Wayne comes over and suggests it may be the proximity of the other horses. I acknowledge that Stat has a protective bubble that IS measured in tens of metres. Wayne recommends I move a bit further out from the group and join in from a bit of a distance. As we are having this conversation, Stat is still trying to break out his dance moves for all to witness.
We move a bit further out from the group and Stat seems to start to settle back down.
Phew.
Until I try to get him to move to the right. And he is off. Spinning, bucking, reversing, a bit more bucking, lunging towards the gate (great, now we are going to try jumping as well). I am wrestling with him on his back, trying to get some semblance of control, not falling off and still trying to portray an air of light heartedness to the rest of the group as if to say "look at what my little scalawag is up to now, ha ha, isn't he just adorable" I would normally have said 'just to die for', but I didn't want Stat getting any ideas.
We are now pressed up against the gate and Stat is swaying from side to side as if gathering himself for a standing jump over the gate. I could feel the tension building up in his muscles just about to burst forward into action.
That was it, I decamped.
Back on Terra Firma, I unwound the lead rope and turned that pent up energy into rotational motion. around and around we lunged.
Wayne, seeing I was in trouble, comes over to give advice. under his guidance Stat slowly starts to realise that all this rushing around is not really doing anything more than getting a little tiring. he slowly slows down to a walk and then to a stop.
Wayne gives Stat a look over and starts fiddling with the saddle. He thinks that the saddle is the problem and it is creating pressure that Stat is trying to run away from.
Not the saddle! My comfy Barefoot saddle! NOOOOOOO!
Wayne goes and gets a spare saddle from his truck. We try it on Stat. "Give that a go" he says.
I get on, cool, its a Western saddle. Manly. Nice chiseled, oiled leather, large pommel that will remove my delicates if I am flung forward in a hurry. All those things that make you sit a little taller and upright in the saddle.
It also had nice bucking rolls at the front. Ohhhh, security...... I liked it immediately.
Stat also liked it. He stood there all docile. Off we moved, slow, fluid, no hesitation, yielded the hind quarters, turning the movement smoothly into an outside turn. We came to a stop and then reversed for several paces. Turning to the left we moved off into a circle. So sweet.
Now that we had stopped break dancing around the place, Wayne decided to dial it up a bit more. Off came the bridle and bit. Taking the lead rope, Wayne tied it up as a set of reins for me and we were then riding bitless. I liked it. Stat seemed to like it. we were on a winner.
Over a coffee, Wayne was telling me the history about the saddle I was now riding on. He had picked it up about 20 years ago. "It's a Fred Whitton" he tells me. I look blankly at him. "They aren't cheap" he continues, helping me fill in the blanks.
"Oh, what sort of money are we talking here?" I ask. Nothing is too good for my Stat. if he needs a saddle that costs a bit more then normal, then so be it. His comfort is the most important thing, above everything else. Plus, we had spent just over $1000 for the barefoot, so we were use to spending a bit more for the right sort of tack.
"Well, when I bought it in Australia 20 years ago it was $2000, then" he plonks out there in the open.
Coffee almost spurts out my nose!! Holy horse feathers!!! I look over to Stat, couldn't he just toughen up a bit? I mean, just grit the teeth a bit more and take one for the team?
Stat looks back with the 'maybe because I am worth it' look.
Your move, Buster.
Oh, but it is a nice saddle. For all of the afternoon, I admired the craftsmanship, the intricate patterns in the leather, the rawhide bindings wound around the pommel (or horn, I was slipping into the cowboy lingo) held in place with an intricate knot. The wide half twist of the fenders (none of your girly English saddle straps or shiny chromed stirrup irons here). Butch, chunky translucent rawhide covered oxbows were what I ride in. On that note, if I do get a Western saddle, I need to ditch the wussy half chaps I was wearing and get some cowboy boots!
But back to the clinic. Wayne and Gary had us move into the round pen and start trotting around. Wayne wants me to go faster. I try to go faster. Stat is perfectly happy with the current level of exercise, thank you.
"Raise the Energy!" commands Wayne. Go Faster! I command through my posture and movement on his back.
Na, all good thanks, Stat responds by maintaining his current pace.
Wayne calls me to a stop and comes over.
"What happens if you were to give him a little tap on the backside with the end of the lead rope?" he inquires.
"I don't know, I have never tried. I suppose one of two things could happen" I answer.
He pauses, obviously coming to the realisation that perhaps he should have drawn up those indemnity papers for the course participants to sign after all.
"Okay" concedes Wayne, "maybe we should just finish on a positive for today".
"Good call" I reply.
We had a group gathering at the end of the day to wrap up on all that we had learnt. Standing in around in a circle beside our horses, Wayne stood in the middle giving us individual advice on what he had observed and techniques to practice.
Stat stood there beside me, eyes closed, head hung low on my shoulder. As the debrief went on, his head got heavier and heavier as he went deeper into a state of sleep. Wayne looks over, pointing at us.
"That horse has used his brain so much today, look at him he is asleep on his feet"
Everyone in the group agreed that Stat had truly given his all to the clinic.
I gotcha ya, mate. I was brain dead too. I also had been using my brain throughout and was exhausted.
It was with some relief that we managed to get Stat onto the float and with exhaustion dulled senses, the return trip home was only about three quarters as stressful as the journey there.
Now I had to find a saddle for Stat. It was going to be a Western, it was going to be a Fred Whitton.
How we were going to afford one, I had no idea.
