Stuey's Sixth week of training

Sunday, July 9 (Chesna) Day 36

I rode Stuey out alone again today. While riding alone is good for all horses, I think it is especially healthy for Stuey. I talked with Cheryl a bit about my ride from yesterday and she pointed out that sometimes when horses are responsive it is typical to try and match them by riding very lightly (in other words, using subtle cues). However, in the process of riding lightly one may accidentally be too vague and actually just be confusing. Today I wanted to make sure my points were clear to Stuey while remaining as light as possible.

We went out around the neighbors’ property working on everything we normally do. I tried my hardest to keep my cues very clear and direct. It was one of those rides where I paid close attention to myself (if only I had the fortitude to do this more often). I think I have been doing a good job with Stuey, but it is always good to assess myself and try to strengthen my communication skills. Stuey tolerated my exaggerated attention to detail well.

Tuesday, July 11 (Chesna) Day 38

Hold onto your seats for this one, it was a wild ride!

But before that… I slipped a bosal headstall onto Stuey and hopped on bareback for some work in the arena. The bosal has a very different feel than the bridle or the halter, so I spent several minutes establishing bend and such. He responded nicely so we set out for a ride around our neighbors’ property. On the way out we worked on everything we usually work on, including “whoa-ing” off of voice command and backing up with the bosal.

It was early evening and cooling off, but I wanted to go explore the shade of the elk trails. Here my heart starts beating just writing about it. We walked easily through the tall grass that leads to the bog and woods, away and out of sight from friends. As we crossed the bog I smelled something strange and musky and I said to Stuey, “maybe we are going to see the elk tonight.” I was kind of excited because the elk use the elk trail (no really?), and once I even saw our five point bull elk up close. But as we stepped out of the mud of the bog I got an unnerving ‘oh crap’ feeling, like the feeling you get before something bad happens. At precisely that moment Stuey froze. Now granted, Stuey freezes for really ridiculous reasons sometimes, but there was something very convincing about this freeze. Another second later I heard a snap come from up the trail above our heads.

Before I continue with this little story, here’s the back-story: Ever since Kelsy and I have been living and riding out here in the wild people have been warning us to watch out for cougars. We get told over and over the terror stories of cougars jumping out of trees to kill unsuspecting victims below. One of our friends often recounts the time she and her horse were stalked by a young cougar on an endurance ride. And most commonly, people lecture us not to ride alone, at dusk, in the woods where large animals frequent and cougars can hunt from above.

So here I am, breaking all of the above rules, plus I’m bareback on a three-year-old green horse in a bosal for the first time. I hear a branch snap up in a large fir tree to our advanced left. Stuey and I both jerk our heads up in surprise, and I see that about 15 feet up the tree is a HUGE animal, and the animal is coming down the tree fast. I instantly think “COUGAR!!! Oh s--- we’re going to die!” Ignoring all advice I have learned over the years about handling predators (stand and yell, become intimidating, and never run), I turn Stuey around like a reining horse, grab a handful of mane, and nail him with both of my heels. There was no need to press on the gas pedal because Stuey was right there with me. He thoroughly agreed that getting out of there was a fantastic plan. As we took a fantastic leap forward I looked back over my shoulder long enough to suspect that our predator was not a cougar, but what looked more like a big dark brown bear tumbling out of the tree 15 feet behind us. All I could remember about bears in my panic was that they can run like 40 mph, they occasionally maul hikers, and if they have babies around they can be killers, so my fear was not at all lifted.

Between us and the safe path home was of course the bog. Good little Stuey leaped right in the watery muck up to his hocks and sprung out of there like a seasoned event horse. We swerved through the grass on the other side so that by the time we hit the fields to home we were going just about as fast as Stuey could go. Only then did I pause to look back (no bear following), take a deep breath and start laughing. Stuey slowed right down to a forward canter and we chugged all the way home to a waiting Cheryl. She and all of our horses had gathered by the fence to greet us (apparently in our great escape we had made a lot of noise, even though we were acres away). I slid Stuey to a stop, dropped the reins and frantically told Cheryl about our little encounter while shaking and talking like a maniac. Stuey lowered his head and took some deep breaths, he was more composed than I was!

After I had repeated the experience to Cheryl about twenty times and since our ride had been quite brief, I felt obligated to work in the arena. But I soon discovered I was way too full of adrenaline for walking and trotting in circles and besides, what tops bear training? Then I realized that I had probably done the last thing you want to teach a horse to do in the face of danger, that is, run as fast as you possibly can towards home. But then again, Stuey really proved himself a star. Not only did he stand facing a giant beast crashing towards him during the several moments it took me to decide a course of action, he responded instantly to my cues and we were galloping within two strides. He did not hesitate to fly into the bog, and he did not buck me off in our wild stampede out of the woods. In fact, he listened to me with an ear cocked the entire time we were getting out of there and I was yelling, “go Stuey, faster Stuey, we’re gonna die Stuey!” As Cheryl says, he saved me from the bear like a good horse is supposed to!

Since then we haven’t seen hide or hair of the big bear. I am not sure why it came out of tree, but I suppose it was just as frightened of us as we were of it. However, I’m glad that I didn’t try and stand there when it did make it to the ground within 15 feet of us, I’m glad that we were riding alone because I would have left anyone else behind, and most importantly I’m glad that I was riding Stuey to carry me safely home!

Wednesday, July 12 (Chesna) Day 39

Our friend Jessie was visiting for a few days to ride and ride and ride some more. Right off the bat we threw her up on Stuey bareback to give her the riding farm tour. “He’s only three with a month of riding, but it’s ok Jessie, he doesn’t buck!”

We started by going up and down every possible trail on our hill. Jessie and Stuey looked great from where I was sitting, and they didn’t hesitate to follow us on some rough paths. When we turned her to our cliff—a ten foot long little drop—she aimed Stuey right down and held onto mane. He slid and scooted his way down and stopped a few feet away at the bottom. According to Jessie, “it was like a roller-coaster ride!”

After complete exploration of the hill we ran through the field and creek and goofed around in the wooded trails. This was the first rider Stuey has carried besides myself and he responded well to Jessie. She did a great job of being adamant that her cues got responses. For example, once I noticed Jessie applied left leg for a sideways step, but Stuey walked forward instead. She kept at it until she got the sideways step she wanted and then she released her leg pressure. I’m glad Jessie didn’t back down on her requests, because that is how horses learn to ignore riders.

Thursday, July 13 (Chesna) Day 40

Kelsy, Jessie and I returned late from a great day riding at the beach. Although it was getting late, we decided to get most of the summer campers ridden in two shifts. I rode Stuey in the second shift, and by that time the sun was long gone behind the hills and it was quite dark. Night riding is awesome. Because your sense of sight is hindered, you experience the ride in a different way and you give the horse more responsibility.

We started in the arena and I fine-tuned some of our basic skills like backing and stopping. After some time in the arena we all made a break for our hayfield (I admit it, we were bored working in the arena). It was so fun trotting and cantering through the tall grass, even though we could barely see in the dark. Hearsay Stuey’s white mane and tail were like beacons against the black sky, so often we led the way in a path across the field. Stuey moved along like nothing was out of the ordinary, a perfect example of kidmanship at work.

Friday, July 14 (Chesna) Day 41

Today we were expecting some visitors to come and meet the Haflingers. This, plus the hot weather, gave us a perfect excuse to give Stuey-the-dirt-pony a bath (duhn, duhn, duhn…). When Stuey saw Jessie and I armed with several bottles of shampoo and a hose, he wasn’t interested. For his dirty tail we used Tide with Bleach to wash away the yucky spots. For his mane we used Cowboy Magic Yellow-Out. For his body we used cheap coconut-smelling human shampoo. With plenty of wiggling and spraying and bubbles we had Stuey scrubbed to perfection. All that was left to clean was his face. I got the gentle shampoo on with little trouble, but when it came to the rinse he was very difficult. I tried to explain to him that I couldn’t leave the suds on his face and if he would just cooperate it would go much quicker, but he insisted on throwing up a fuss—and in the process splashing his legs with mud again… But with persistence I got his face rinsed and his legs re-hosed, and we took him in the barn for a brush over with Show Sheen and a fresh clip job.

Later that day Jessie put a sparkling Stuey through his paces for our guests, riding bareback despite it being only the second time she had ever ridden him. He was his usual Stuey self and was very laid back. He was a little hard to coax to get his ears up for a picture (he doesn’t like being photogenic, even though in real life he always has a friendly expression). He enjoyed being included in the center of attention, and most importantly, he celebrated his roll at the end of the day in the dirtiest spot in the field.

Saturday, July 15 (Chesna) Day 42

Today Kelsy and I participated in our last three-day event of the season. The three-day events we attend actually happen in only one day with dressage, cross-country jumping, and stadium jumping held throughout the day. Kelsy rode her Thoroughbred mare Equinox and I rode my young Haflinger gelding Pippin.

For anyone who has ever attended a horse show, you may be familiar with “that horse.” You know, that horse who bellows so loud at the show that people put in ear plugs. That horse who tries to dig a hole to China at the side of their trailer. That horse who is so acrobatic at the end of his tie rope that people hunt you down and ask, “do you know what your horse is doing at your trailer?!?” That horse who flattens the person leading them and runs off to their friends. That horse (and not uncommonly, that horse is actually those horses). To avoid having that horse, we like to take our personal young horses to practice standing at the trailer, even if they are not participating at the show. Cheryl is our official show mom, and because she doesn’t ever take a horse to ride, she usually makes sure that whatever horse we might have at the trailer is behaving and gets exposed to the wonders of horse shows.

Today Stuey got to check out the eventing scene. We did this so he could practice coping with the somewhat stressful and overwhelming show environment, and so that we could market him as a horse for sale. We parked our trailer in the prime spot, right along the only trail to the stadium and cross-country areas and next to the dressage arenas. This way Stuey got to see just about everything there is to see, and just about everyone got to see Stuey with his For Sale sign.

When we first unloaded him in the morning Cheryl took him for a little stroll to work on groundwork and mellow out. He seemed to be attentive and in no time was all settled. We tied him to the far side of the trailer, opposite our horses, to practice some alone time. During the day our horses are coming and going to compete, so he needed to get used to being separate from them. He drank water immediately and tried his best to reach the grass for a snack. Cheryl unfolded her lawn chair to supervise. If he tried to paw she would throw a water bottle at him. In about two minutes he didn’t dare pick up his feet to paw.

During the day Stuey spent a lot of time tied to the trailer. If he were to throw a little tantrum we would let him do just that. Most horses figure out that that’s a useless way to expel energy. Cheryl also took him out and about to watch us compete. She held him at the end of the lead sitting in a group of people and horses around warm-up, watching us do our stadium rounds. Whenever I got the chance, I would look to see Stuey standing around sleeping in Cheryl’s shadow, despite all the horses cantering around and jumping behind him. If he got worried (like when Pip would come and leave again), Cheryl would just do some groundwork and get his focus back on her.

Plenty of people gave him pets and told him how adorable he was. I think he even used his dashing good looks to beg some carrots from passersby. He was very well-behaved and adjusted to the show scene like a been-there-done-that super star.