February 4, 2011

• Three Steps Forward, Two Back

  I've been making some progress with the horses.  They're teaching me patience as they try to revert to their bad habits, but each day they grow a bit more tractable.  I felt exceedingly smug at having taught Gemela to stand quietly, while being mounted, in one lesson; but that pride dissipated  when I went to swing up into the saddle on Monday, and she pranced out from under me.  Back to square one.

  Today, I spent another fifteen minutes, mounting and dismounting, until my butt muscles complained.  When she finally stood still, it was time to hit the trail.  We worked up and down the street, passing by the road back to the barn, until she accepted the idea that we were not going to prance all the way home.  Out on the street, she worked herself into a sweat refusing to step up a curb.  I urged he forward with legs and hands until my legs could squeeze no more.  At last I jumped off and led her and she followed with some trepidation.  Once she had followed me up and down the curb a couple of times, I got back on and then she did it with only slight hesitation. 

  I get off and lead a horse over an obstacle only as a last resort because it puts one in such a vulnerable position.  Not only are you in danger of being stepped on or bowled over, there's no way to control a panicked animal that outweighs you by  eleven hundred pounds.  As long as you are astride, you can at least stay with the horse, and normally you can keep him from bolting by turning him in a circle.  I say "normally" because I once rode a horse who could gallop in a straight line with his nose to your toe.  That was pretty scary.

  Speaking of bolting, Flo got fed up with standing still in the barn and galloped off with me only half on, the other day.  My sister and cousin, who were cleaning the corral, stood with mouth agape as we came sailing out of the barn.  Clinging for dear life, I managed to pull him around before he got up too much speed.  When he came to a stop, all I could do is sit quietly until my heart returned to its normal pace.  He knew he was in trouble and stood rooted to the ground until I regained my composure.  What a brat!

  • 12:32 am
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