Teaching the Basics
As springtime settles in, there are so many changes afoot - this week feels progressive towards those goals, while at the same time held in a waiting game.
Cruz in her rehab paddock, all on her own
Cruz has started to recover from her abscess, and is moving out normally again. Cleared for regular work, we are really pushing efforts towards regular turnout time and activities. She has become adept at navigating her small turnout, including it’s hills, and has new friends in a chestnut mare and pinto pony mare. Most notably, Cruz has come to respect the electric fence tape enough to have a spook (and subsequent canter frenzy) without once looking at the tape as an easy exit. With crossed fingers and hooves we hope to have her integrated into turnout by her third birthday (coming up on April 16th).
With the end of her rehab plan, though, it does mean an end of me regularly sitting atop her. Riding and training, save groundwork and lunging, have come to a halt as we wait until December to really start into work towards the 2023 Thoroughbred Makeover. Horses contending for the RRP Makeover must not have more than 15 rides before Dec 1 during their eligible time prior to the Makeover in which they plan to compete. For Cruz and me, this means a return to limited saddle time (April thru November, that’s 7 full months, so no more than 2 rides a month…or save them until September and ride once a week) and a whole lot more opportunity to spend ground time together.
We’ve begun walking the property, her in a halter, me in sunglasses with treats, and we just walk. Factor and I did this to start (and still do to this day!), walking around on foot to explore what might be seen and gain confidence in one another’s reactions. To be honest, walking with my horses is one of the most cathartic things I do with them, and my relationship with them is often molded by how these walks go.
Walking with Cruz - Factor watches from his field
Cruz, who is so young and lacks a lot of experiences in life, has no idea level of reaction is appropriate. She seeks feedback constantly, wanting to make sure her reaction is reasonable, within scope - frankly, the sign of her excellent brain. Sometimes she does fly off - but in very short order she comes right back…provided, of course, nobody else is still freaking out. She is starting to look to explore around us on the farm, but often comes back to reassert her association to me. She’s equally independant and social, wanting time to herself (can you blame her? Aug-Mar or more attached to a human if out of stall? Yikes.) but wanting to be enthusiastically part of the herd she now sees herself within. Our interactions have turned from getting her to relax enough to just enjoy the exploration to suddenly becoming almost conversational, moving away to explore then moving back to re-establish connection.
As Factor does, so Cruz also now gives a nickering call when I arrive and make myself known at the barn - Factor gives a call almost reliably when he hears me arrive on the farm, and has since the day he came home. Cruz was intermittent at first, moreso through her impaction, but now reliable in her greetings. Because the horses get overnight turnout, Cruz moves into a stall in the main barn at night so she has company with a few other horses who stay in. If I arrive after turnout, Cruz has identified the sounds of my car and voice to whinny hello as soon as I’ve greeted the farm’s dog - which often elicits a far-away Factor greeting as well!
This brings to mind a conversation I had, about how horses can really bring out the best in us and teach us things, but also about how our horses are an amazing reflection of us. (Articles and studies exist showing how mirror neurons influence our relationship with horses, but I don’t claim to know the science well enough to quote.) As someone who struggles with anxiety, horses have been a source of confidence, focus, and a certain amount of relief for me through the years. Their honesty, consistency, and willingness to adapt are all qualities I have respected from the minute I met them. I have learned that freaking out, or reacting to a moment’s panic, is not going to yield a workable situation because if I freak out, my hot-blooded horses will also (amazingly, this lesson has proof of being learned, with Cruz as an example!) and the result will be an out of control me suddenly needing to reprioritize dealing with an out of control her…and probably over-reacting [and making things worse] by doing so.
Do you know what happens when Cruz is invasive, rude, or otherwise reactive in a negative way towards me because of a spook? I jostle her leadrope until the movement of the noseband overrides the spook and she realizes for herself that the reaction is causing a problem for her, and nothing else.