The Thinking Horsetrainer

Showing posts with label Canyon City training program. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canyon City training program. Show all posts

"Grace Under Pressure"

Published by Cari Zancanelli under , , , on 1:33 AM
Grace Under Pressure

If anything describes horsemanship it is the words "grace under pressure".   The ability to ride any horse, under any conditions and make it look easy is what I would call grace under pressure.  The best riders and trainers remain calm, un-flustered when things go wrong.  When the horse bucks, spooks, forgets something, over-reacts, under-reacts, whatever can go wrong a true rider can handle it and not let it ruin his/her disposition.

I was reading a book called In Search of Captain Zero by Allan Weisbecker. Essentially it is a book about a serious surfer - not the pro-surfer type, the gypsy globe trotting kind.  Looking for the perfect wave, the perfect place, etc.  If you aren't familiar, surfers can be serious hobbyists, taking their sport to heart like other people take religion to heart.  It can be a spiritual, intellectual and athletic undertaking to surf waves all over the world.  What does this have to do with horses? 

There was a part in the book where the author was talking about how sometimes when surfing the "I" dissolves and melds into the wave, you become part of the movement and the moment.  The same thing happens in riding too.  If you have ridden a horse to the point where it  is moving effortlessly under you, responding to your cues to the lightest touch or sometimes with barely a thought then you know what I mean.  It's when everything comes together - the weather, the horse and you to create this moment where riding the horse is spiritual, you lose the sense of dominating the horse and instead know that your desires are your horse's desires. 

In training you constantly struggle to get the horse to follow your agenda.  There really is no nice way to say it - unlike surfing, the horse needs to be molded to our goals.  They have a personality and an agenda of their own.  The younger the horse when it's started the easier it is to convince that it should go along with you.  My horses were all older when they were trained, for various reasons.  Most of them are still deep in the process.  Snickers was 12 when we got him, and convincing him to go along with my wants is sometimes not easy.  Angel was 9 and had very little formal training.  She only knew that if you squeezed with your right leg she should trot.  Pulling back on the reins meant stop.  And she kind of neck reined.  Both of them were stiff, fell in and out on circles, went their own direction and speed but were otherwise pretty mellow horses. 

It has been a joy to see them grow into well-mannered and trained horses.  They are ridden in the pasture - we have no arena, so they have to deal with ditches, small trees and clumps of grass.  They used to trip a lot.  They had never had a bit, just a hackamore and so I put them in a bit for the first time. They pulled and rooted the reins out of my hands, wouldn't listen.  Over time Angel especially has become a wonderful horse to ride.  She has a smooth trot that blossomed into a wonderful floating trot.  She learned her leads in a week, she can side pass and do shoulder-in.  In short, she became a cooperative and willing partner and a joy to ride.  She looks forward to learning new things instead of fighting me.  I had to figure out how to get her to like what she did, and what worked absolutely the best was clicker training. 

Finally, one day I was riding her at sunset after a solid week of working her daily.  Suddenly everything came together - I could feel her listening, ready to do anything I asked.  She was flexible and fit.  We could canter without drifting to the left, or charging.  Her tail never swished with irritation like it used to, she didn't balk or rear up or object.  That's a lot of "nots" and "didn'ts"... But Angel had become an angel.  She had become more than either of us thought she could be - she was beautiful and strong.  She was athletic and powerful and graceful. 

When the horse is finally light, and strong and flexible and knows all the cues, that's when "horse" and "rider" become a team and the "dissolution of the I" occurs.  It doesn't matter what kind of riding you do, this is always true.  You can tell when a particular horse and rider lacks in this area because instead of constantly improving they actually start to regress.  The horse develops it's own reaction to cues that are incorrect, or it becomes lame more and more often.  It gets sour and won't perform.  I am thinking of a particular horse and rider.  The horse was purchased for a large price from an excellent trainer.  It had a wonderful pedigree and a disposition to please.  Anyone could have ridden that horse and it would do what was asked.  This rider competed on it and it gradually became sour, unwilling.  It wouldn't do things correctly.  It became lame after shows.  In my opinion, the rider lacked compassion and the ability to bring the horse along.  They lacked patience with themselves most of all, and it came out in their riding. 

Riding well is about losing your ego even while having the self-confidence to be a leader for the horse.  The horse functions as a mirror for the rider, showing us our flaws.  Many many great riders and trainers have remarked on this fact, it is something that you can't help but come across if you do any research into horsemanship.  To me it is unfortunate to change such a great horse as this person had, but they also missed the opportunity to learn about themselves.  It is easy to put people down, to bad mouth them and make fun of their flaws.  It is better to learn from them, to look at what's happening to their horse and make sure it isn't happening to your horse.  What affect are you having?  Does your horse like to be ridden?  Is it getting lame or sour?  Is it getting and staying flexible?  Do you have those moments where riding is effortless, where you feel like you are one with your horse? 

Making a great horse is also making yourself be the best you can be.  Surfers have a much smaller margin of error.  If they aren't aware, if they don't bend to conditions and gather their courage for the monster waves, they could wipe-out or even die.  Riders can also put themselves in danger, for sure, but it's different.  The number of horses that are truly that dangerous are very small.  And because the horse is a living being, I believe that we usually have the chance to reach it's mind.  Waves ask for no compassion and give none.  The wave forces you to face yourself over and over.  The bigger the surf the more this is true.  This is where the "dissolution of the I" happens.  In riding, you face yourself in a more subtle way.  You have to look, to watch the horse to see your mistakes.  Once the horse is well-trained, it creates the mirror for you and begins to reflect the rider's flaws. 

Some people like to ride on a purely recreational level, and I understand that.  Not everyone practices riding like I do, or top level riders do (I am not a top-level rider but if I had the means I would go for it).   But if you do, there is so much joy and incredible oneness that can be achieved with the horse.  When you work hard and are honest with yourself, it becomes as much for you as for the horse.  Your agenda and the horse's agenda are the same, your ability matches the horse, you are improving each other and you are growing. That, to me, is what the purpose of riding is.

2. Bella Comes Home

Published by Cari Zancanelli under , , , on 3:35 PM
My step-mother Arlene, my brother Mark and I all piled into his pickup truck with his girl friend's borrowed trailer in tow and headed for Canyon City where Bella was being trained.  Although I had made an appointment the details about the status of Bella were vague.  I had picked her out at an adoption event in Meeker and the BLM transported her to the prison.  At that point she was in the hands of the prisoners and the wild horse training program.  At that time, from what I understand, the methods they used were a bit more "rustic" than today.  All I knew was that she had been there 6 months, which is twice as long as she was supposed to be.  The man on the phone thought that she should be ready to take home, but he hadn't bothered to verify it. 

So, with some trepidation we arrived at the training area only to find that Bella was out on a trail ride.  The guard called them back in.  We waited on some bleachers while a group of prisoners from the program gathered behind us and began to talk.  After a few moments I realized they were talking about Bella.  They said she had aborted her foal a few weeks earlier. I hadn't realized that she was even pregnant!  They also told me that the prisoner assigned to train her had been removed from the program for drug use. 

When the prisoner rode her into the pen and removed her saddle and blanket, I could hardly believe it was the same horse I had adopted.  With her photo in hand I studied her features and then compared them to the horse in front of me.  She was a different color, her coat was rough and dirty, she had lost a lot of weight.  She looked horrendous!  I was stunned and saddened.  My only thought was that I had to get her out of there that day.



Bella the day I adopted her in Meeker: Fat and Sassy!  She was fat and shiny after coming off the range



Bella more than 6 months after adoption and a few weeks after I got her home from Canyon City.  Her coat
 was still very dull and she had sores on her hips.  If you look closely, you can see her ribs.

The BLM representative, Brian, suggested that I leave her there because her training wasn't finished.  She had fallen through the cracks and due to some problems with the person training her, she wasn't ready to leave.  Yes, she had aborted her foal but they had not called a vet, had not called me, and had no idea why other than horses under stress tend to lose foals.  I was livid, but focused on Bella.  I told him that I didn't care about the money I spent, I had already spent more money to get down here to pick her up and she was coming home with me TODAY.  He acquiesced, finally, and we loaded her quite easily into the trailer.  This will be important later in the story...  Let me say it again:  she loaded easily and quickly right into the trailer!

                          Here she is, IN the trailer coming from Canyon City to her new home.

Once home Bella proved to be extremely skittish and afraid of everything.  She wouldn't leave her pen once she became comfortable there.  Her tail was matted with dried afterbirth and mud clung to her coat.  Once she would let me get close to her I cried into her neck.  I felt so guilty for sending her there and putting her through all that.  For the record, no one had known she was pregnant at the time of adoption, but I couldn't forgive them for not letting me know she had aborted and giving me the option to have a vet look at her. 

Suddenly, there we were, Bella and I.  Neither of us knew anything, both of us full of fear.  But this was my first horse and I wouldn't give up on her or on myself. I would have to do the training that had not been finished at Canyon City. At that moment a horse trainer was born - there was no looking back.