I'm kind of... sad right now.
Between the show on Saturday, and how crazy the barn was yesterday, I was really debating about whether or not to even go today. But I decided to make the trip tonight, and give myself Friday off as a rest-day before the show.
The riding ring was even crazier than it was yesterday, unbelievably, but I had come to the barn with the intentions of doing some barn chores, and then just hanging out and watching the lessons. Due to technical issues (flat tire) the barn owner/riding instructor was unable to be there, as she had to go pick up a delayed hay delivery. So rather than a structured lesson, it ended up being "free time" for all the students (only two of which had actually had a /scheduled/ lesson today that had to be cancelled. Like I said, shows bring kids out of the woodwork around here!) There were 12 kids in the ring, ranging from ages 11 to 15 (mostly girls, one boy), and one adult riding, and their skills ranged from beginner, to intermediate/advanced. By "beginner" I simply mean someone who has not been riding very long, but their actual skill set allowed them to walk, trot and canter comfortably (if not beautifully) and hop confidently over small fences (about 1'5" or so). By intermediate/advanced, I mean that one rider (a 15 year old boy who regularly shows his quarter horse in western-type shows, and occasionally hunter-hack) knew enough to confidently direct and teach his horse, and the others could comfortably walk/trot/canter/jump and could do it with some style.
This is important for my observations, to note that none of these riders were professional by any means, but they also weren't flat-out beginners who don't know what they're doing.
So, as they rode, I watched. I also watched them interact with their horses on the ground, as they groomed, etc. I didn't mean for this to become a study of horsemanship behavior (I was really just hanging out killing time) but that's what it turned into. And honestly, the results both worried and saddened me. No one did anything that would be considered abusive by any means, but it was the small things that I saw that kinda broke my heart. Like the girl that swatted her horse on the shoulder (with her girth no less) to move him out of the way. She didn't hit him hard, and she didn't hit him angrily, but I have to wonder what the horse was thinking when she did it. Couldn't have been nice thoughts. Or the boy who yanked on the reins to backed his horse five steps, simply because when he'd "ground tied" him, the horse had dropped his head to snuffle at a stray piece of hay and the boy had mistakenly thought he was about to wander off. (seriously, I nearly cried at this).
I want to take a moment and remind: the barn owner is NOT here for this. She definitely doesn't teach this sort of "horsemanship" behavior, and probably would have had strong words for both situations. However, I was not in a position to give instruction or discipline, though I did speak on behalf of the ground-tied horse to point out he hadn't actually done something wrong.
There were a myriad of little things that I saw, none of them brutal, or harsh, or mean in intention, but all of them were things that impressed upon my mind how little these riders really understood their horses. And I know they are all horse-crazy as heck, and they all absolutely love their horses (lesson ponies and "private" ponies both) and would never dream of intentionally hurting them. I'm also sure they all think they know the horses they ride, but it just hasn't dawned on them that the horse might see things a bit differently than intended.
And what really, REALLY broke my heart, is that I used to be one of them. I'm actually tearing up a bit as I write this, thinking about it. I loved my horse. I would have died for my horse, I loved her that much. But did I understand my horse? I thought I did. I thought I knew why she behaved the way she did, but I know now that I had the completely wrong idea about why Missy wouldn't jump when I wanted her to. About why she would get argumentative when I asked her to do things she didn't want to do. I used to say it was her "boss mare" attitude. Her stubbornness. Her bitchyness. That she was just mean, and wanted to fight with me. Maybe some of this was true, but I was clueless as to the motivation behind the behavior. It never dawned on me that I was the cause of her problems, because I couldn't be bothered to think from her point of view.
I will be forever in debt to Missy. She put up with me, and she taught me some very valuable lessons about being patient. She was no push over, and she wouldn't let me micro-manage or boss her around. If I was being a slave-master, she'd dump my butt on the ground. Eventually, after about a year, I finally got it. I learned to be patient, sit relaxed, and politely ask her to do things. I learned that I had to stop demanding she do everything /right now/, and to let her do things her way. I will never, ever, forget the last show we went to. It was a hunter schooling show. In the three years I owned her, I had never jumped a clean round without a refusal... until that day. I went into the ring knowing it would be our last show together, and wanting only to have fun... and she gave me the most beautiful performance I had gotten with her yet. We didn't win anything, but I didn't care. I cried into her neck and thanked her for being there for me.
Nine years later, I have the privilege of working with her daughter Gwen. I can't believe how much I love her already. And I am so, so unbelievably thankful for finding Natural Horsemanship, which has given me the chance to form an actually relationship with her, one built on mutual respect, trust, and love.
Interacting with a couple other horses today really opened my eyes to how much Gwen already trusts me, and responds to me. I knew she was getting better and more responsive to things like yielding, but it wasn't until I actually worked with two other horses today that I realized how she pays attention to ME. The other horses were dead in my hands, their attention only on me when I was asking for something, and I only got a response after I remained persistent. It's hard to explain, but I could just tell that they weren't used to being "talked" to.
Now, I feel the need to say a few Thank You's. Thank you Emily, for introducing me to Parelli through writing your blog. You have no idea how it's changed my relationship with horses. Thank you to Missy, for putting up with my crap all those years ago. Thank you to Pat Parelli for making natural horsemanship so accessible and easy to follow. Thank you Gwen, for giving me the benefit of the doubt and letting me be your human.
Today it really clicked in me how much Parelli is teaching me to understand Gwen. It's not just me making myself understood, it's about being able to understand HER, and to anticipate her needs and wants, and then to fulfill them.
J
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