Monthly Archives: October 2012

Now that I have Mocha in the Back on Track hock boots with a plan to give her the weekend off from them (per recommendation from the manufacturer), there’s been some interesting complications to the horse life.  Today, I premiered the next step of the new regime by stopping to put her boots on before going to work.  When I finally reached the barn tonight (prep time at work plus meeting), the hocks were toasty warm.  And The Girl was ready to work.  Not as elevated as Friday, but still, very much of a difference.

We also spotted a covey of quail outside the arena door early in the warmup (second walk loop).  I reacted in predictable ADHD mode…”Oooh!  QUAIL!  SHINY!” and pulled Mocha up at the door to watch them.  About twenty quail in all, pretty good-sized.  They skittered back and forth, nervous about us watching them, then finally flew off.  Mocha didn’t get excited but just watched them, ears forward.  Good horse.

The work was snaffle, pretty much plain vanilla schooling.  Tight circles are right out because the footing is slick in places thanks to the monsoonal downpour outside creating seepage and some drips.  We did several fanciful features that had larger small circles but allowed us to avoid the slick spots while still working on bends and changes.  After a bit of limbering up, we schooled counter-canter and a few tempi changes.  She’s tense about it, but that’s why we’re schooling in the snaffle.

After that it was just plain putting on some mileage.  Schooling figure 8 circles, but lots of trot as well of canter before changing direction/leads.  Consistency in reading seat and leg is the name of the game, and this winter I really want to improve the shape and placement of our larger circles.

At the end she was sweating pretty good but breathing steadily.  Normal function of early winter weather in the high 40s in early winter/late fall haircoat.  Walked her out then stuck her on the crossties with the cooler on while I checked waters and did other small errands.

Overall, I’m pretty pleased.  She’s clearly moving better, even after only a few hours with the boots on this round.  More responsive to seat and leg, springy movement in the hind end.  She’s also more willing and relaxed about working on things like counter-canter and tempi changes.  Clearly an arthritis/pain issue.  Not that she hasn’t been compliant before, but she has more energy and is just a bit more keen about her work, which clearly makes it a case of a low-level but very real pain that makes her more self-protective.  The end of ride coolout walk was her big, happy, swinging walk.

Had the barn to ourselves, rain drumming on the corrugated metal roof, other horses occasionally stirring but for the most part, a quiet schooling ride as wet afternoon became damp evening.  Yep.  Winter riding time, once again.

Donning my asbestos undies here….

Well, maybe not.  I don’t tend to attract a lot of the passionate equine arguers to this blog.  But it should serve as a lovely example of horse neepery to the non-horsey.

Anyway.  At the horse show this past weekend, I observed (in the frenzy of competition myself), two entirely different facets of the Western reining world.  Reining competition (for those not in the know) is frequently compared to dressage in the English world for its performance demands with regard to the level of athletic ability required to perform at the highest levels.  Many of the complex movements in both disciplines are similar.  Many of the training methods are similar.

Good and bad alike (well, okay, I doubt that aggressive fencing is common in dressage, while rollkur has its adherents in reining).

I saw training examples of both.  One trainer openly stated this show was a prep for a big California show.  That trainer and the trainer’s students rode in a very similar style.  Heavy-handed.  I literally saw one student yank and jerk her horse to a stop, see-sawing on the reins.  Every damn horse this trainer and their students rode looked more like a heavily framed up Western Pleasure horse than a reiner.  Backed off the bit, overfaced, sullen horses.  The trainer’s own mount moved off stiff-legged after a run.  The trainer was standoffish and a little bit pushy, and the trainer’s students were kind of the same (except for one extremely polite student).  None of this trainer’s students completed the pattern.

Those horses had good spins, though.  But I can imagine the aggressive schooling done for those spins.

That trainer and the students spent a lot of time in the warmup arena as well, riding and riding and riding.

In contrast, the other trainer was friendly and chatty with all of us.  This trainer took the time to give me some tips.  The horses this trainer’s students rode accepted the bit and carried it without being backed off of it.  The trainer hollered about seat and leg cues, not snatch and jerk like the other one.  None of these horses looked like broken-backed overfaced Western Pleasure horses.  Spins weren’t as fancy, and there were schooling moments, but overall the rest of the ride was much more correct.  Those horses also didn’t get their legs worn out in the warmup arena.  The trainer had a number of horses in the string coming back from layoffs (mostly due to injuries or broodmare time).  The trainer and students didn’t push the horses past the limits of what the horses could do in their current condition.  The trainer’s philosophy is one close to mine–this trainer repeatedly said “if a horse can do reining, they can do anything else” and talked about the value of cross-disciplinary training.

Which leads into a corollary thought.  One buzz that went around the holding pen during the beginning of Western Pleasure was a half-heard, quiet comment from one big exhibitor to another that these judges meant to enforce the rules on head position.  I didn’t hear all of it because I went off to show in Equitation, but the general buzz from what I heard was quiet approval.  I know I didn’t see much of the excessive broken-backed peanut roller movement.  In fact, a couple of the consistently higher scoring Pleasure horses were ranch types, moving out on light contact with light collection, nose slightly ahead of the vertical, head and neck either level or slightly above.  They also demonstrated the consistency and smoothness I associate with a good Pleasure horse.

That said, for me, a Pleasure class is a means to an end–practice in moving consistently and smoothly at all three gaits, in the show ring.  I can get that to a certain degree at our home arena.  Getting it in the show ring is still a different story.  Mocha is not bred to be a Pleasure horse, but she can certainly move respectably enough to place in a well-judged class.  At least in walk/jog.  Once it becomes walk/jog/lope it’s clear she’s a reiner.

Nonetheless, I figure it’s worthwhile to school for the consistency of Pleasure gaits because that turns around and helps me with the consistency and control I need to have with Mocha at speed in a reining run.  G told me today that she looked and moved like a reiner should, especially in her large fast circles.  It was clear we were fast but also under control.  I don’t think the two months we spent schooling large/fast and small/slow transitions necessarily built that speed control.  I do think the long periods we’ve spent schooling the maintenance of smooth and consistent pace at all three gaits created it.

Let’s just say that maybe I’m seeing that some of my theories about schooling seem to be coming together.  I prefer a horse to accept bit contact rather than be backed off like the horses of the first trainer.  In that respect, I’ll enter a Pleasure class with no real expectation of placing simply to practice consistent pace in a show ring setting.  But then again, for me, Pleasure’s a seasoning and schooling class, and a stepping stone to more challenging work for horse and rider.  That’s what I always thought it should be, rather than an end in itself.

But that’s a minority point of view.

Anyway, this is getting disjointed and rambling.  But I wanted to get these thoughts down before they skittered away.  Just a few thoughts from the horsey side of my brain.

This show ended up being a number of firsts for both me and Mocha.  Some of the biggest firsts for her included her first overnight/multi-day show and her first trip to a show alone without a barn buddy.  While we did several classes that were new to us (actually, the bulk of the classes were first timers), those two factors were really huge for her.  There definitely was an adjustment issue, but not enough to throw off her ability to perform.  She was anxious, yes, but it was more of the same sort of anxiety she showed at her first show, where she screamed any time she went outside of the barn and away from other horses.  In the barn and in the arena, she did fine.

I got inspired by watching halter classes and banded her mane–a first for both of us.  Instead of a single row of bands, I did a double row.  Saw it on a little dun mare who was clearly a reiner type, with a mane like Mocha’s, and thought it looked cute.  So I spent an hour banding her mane.  It looked cute, was an attractive way to give her a little bit of a cultured look, and the bands stayed in all weekend with only a few falling out overnight.  Win!  The process also relaxed Mocha and sent her into drowsy mode.  Girl does like her primping!

I got further inspired and added 18 and Over Showmanship to our schedule.  I figured we didn’t have a snowball’s chance of placing in the large classes, especially since Mocha’s not had formal Showmanship squaring up training and it’s been 38 years since I last did Showmanship, but I thought it would be a good way to expose her to the arena and to competition before In-Hand Trail.  Um, well, despite her calling once, peeing, and being a little antsy, we got two fourth places (and I think a fifth, can’t remember now).

Trail ended up being pretty exciting.  The course was deceptively simple, with a gate, a mailbox, a water obstacle using a tarp, sidepassing a L, and walking a pole around a barrel.  The complicating factor was the transitions and space between obstacles.  Gate to mailbox was walk.  NBD.  Jog 20 feet to tarp.  Bit of a challenge.  Lope 25 feet to the L.  Now that was tight.  Even little short-coupled Miss Mocha found it tight.  Luckily, she’s sensitive enough that I could halt her right at the edge of the tarp (as shown in the pic) so we could pick up the lope, get in two-three strides, and stop right at the L.

This was the challenging obstacle.  Two barrels and an eight-foot piece of molding with attached handle.  You had to ride up to the side with the handle, pick it up, and walk around the barrel to replace it without allowing the molding to fall off of the barrel.  It helped that Miss Mocha seemed to have been watching the other horses doing the course and knew That Thing Is Not Supposed To Fall.  She watched it closely and we did well.  Namely, two blues, several thirds.

Then it was on to the Reining classes.  When I lined Mocha up to wait for the starting whistle, things narrowed down around me.  We launched into a lope and I kissed her up to a full gallop.  The first couple of strides, she was hesitant, then she dug in and went for broke.  As we sizzled around the first corner heading for the rollback, I felt my hat wobble.  Semiblah rollback, around at lightspeed for the second rollback, then the large fast circles.  Mocha was going for broke, thundering hard but steering well.  As we went by the gate, I flipped my hat off so I wouldn’t keep thinking about it.  G said he knew then that I was going for broke.  Which we did.  We flew around the large fasts, then checked for small slows, the flying change, and back to the large fasts, with another nice small slow, then on for the last build for a hard stop, backing up at least 20 feet, and spins.

About halfway through the first run, I started hyperventilating and gasping.  I think I’d been holding my breath until then.

Afterwards, the runner, who’s a barn rat from our barn, came up to us and said “Dayum.  You guys were smoking out there!”  I thanked her as I choked on my asthma inhaler.

Second run was much the same, except I bagged the hat from the beginning.  And kinda sorta remembered to breathe.  On the third run, Mocha bagged out of the spins.  She’d been a little off on the rollbacks, but she flat out objected to the last spins and sidepassed to the wall.  I didn’t push but took the DQ as I figured she had a reason–soreness or something–and I wouldn’t push it.

Later, I found that we’d been at the top of all three judges’ cards until the spins.  First one, I went five spins.  Second one, I went three.  Four was the correct number, and only four were allowed.  Oh well.

By this point it was nearly midnight.  DH and I thought we’d unsaddle her by the car, so as not to have to lug the saddle to the car.  Point of having a horse, right?

Well, uh, no.  She was convinced there were Horse Eating Monsters in the parking lot and she wasn’t going to have it.  So I took her into the barn, where she calmed down.  Fed her, put the Back on Track boots on, watered her (I’d watered her during the competition, during the Trail class breakdown–basically, took her back to the stall, dropped the bridle and let her drink).  Headed off to the motel, worrying that she’d colic or freak out about the hock boots.

In the morning, the main thing was that she was hungry.  And she Did. Not. Want. Botheration while she ate.  She was a little sore in her chest but the hocks were good.  We went on to pick up several more fourths and fifths, as well as a couple more thirds.  There’s the final ribbon pic.  Two firsts, five thirds, six fourths, and three fifths.

She was pretty funny when she got home.  Eager to go in the arena, she had to amble around for about ten minutes before she finally dropped and rolled.  Then she was ready to go back to the stall.

This post is long enough, I’ll write more about training and Pleasure later.