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Weekly Blog Roundup

Third Annual Deck the Bobby Christmas Pictures from Poor Woman Showing
ahahahahaha. awesome.

Mr. Moose Baby Goes to a George Morris Clinic, Part One & Part Two from Viva Carlos
Great insights & a very cool experience.

Kenai’s Rehab: Complete from In Omnia Paratus
Not horse-related but still fascinating and really cool.

When Disappointment Translates Into Anxiety from No Longer Fiction
An all too common situation, written about honestly and bravely.

The Things I Didn’t Like Enough to Review from The $900 Facebook Pony
This is interesting to read and is actually I think kind of important in a blogging world in which all of our reviews tend to be positive (or why would we want to go to the effort of reviewing them?).

How 2015 Has Changed My Blog…and What’s to Come in 2016 from The Maggie Memoirs
Awesome.

DIY: How to Make DIY Peppermint Treats from DIY Horse Ownership
These look great. I’ve tried horse treats in the past but never been happy with how they’ve turned out.

Pony Club from A Enter Spooking
I was a DC for a few years, and have judged many Pony Club events since then. I love it, but it is not without its flaws. This post does a really nice job of laying everything out.

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What breed is right for you, and how do you know?

I’ve been thinking about this one on and off for a few weeks. I think it started with that 25 questions meme that was going on – one of the questions asked people if they would own a “hotter” breed, and mentioned Arabians and Trakehners as examples of that. I saw a lot of people who were frustrated with that characterization.

Andrea at The Reeling recently wrote about her own transition to rescue horses, and her ideas about breeds & breeding. I really liked the way she wrote about her thought process.

Tristan is a BLM mustang, which I describe as an All-American equine mutt. Some people call mustangs a breed, and they get all involved in the DNA typing of various strains, and they come up with clever names for certain types of them. That’s really not my thing. Mustangs are typey mutts, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve seen a lot of them, and there is an overall “look” but there is not anything approaching the standard set of characteristics that you would get from an established breed.

Tristan’s BLM mustang freezebrand identification

I’ve known and ridden hundreds of horses from dozens of breeds, and I’ve known a lot of people who have really strong and clear preferences. A lot of eventers are Thoroughbred people. A lot of dressage riders have their own particular breed of warmblood that they prefer – or they sit on one side or another of the warmblood/Spanish type debate. My current dressage barn has quite a few Lusitanos in training.

I live in Vermont, where there are clearly established Morgan People. They have their own tack, their own show circuits, their own style of riding, their own set of views on horses that are shaped largely – if not entirely, in some cases – by the Morgan horse.

And I have been thinking about dogs, too, and how we pick the dogs that are a fit for us. My family – immediate and extended – are dog people. I grew up with yellow Labs, and my parents will always have them (no matter what my father says about no more new dogs…). My brother has a German Shepherd. My aunt had Golden Retrievers, then herding dogs, Border Collies and Aussies. My mother grew up with a Boxer, Doberman, and Irish Setter. My uncle has always (except for one Irish Setter) had hounds.

my parents’ current dog, Willow, a few years ago

My own dog, Arya, is some kind of mutt – she was listed as a Boxer/Lab cross, but probably has hound and maybe some pit bull in there. She is a different type than the more solid, more laid back Labs that I grew up with, but I love that.

I chose my horse because I fell in love with him after working with him for the summer. He was not necessarily the “type” that I usually like. I chose my dog because she does represent a type that I have an affinity for: cheerful, sharp, sweet, and has a general look (medium-sized, short hair, blockier head, athletic & slim body) that I like.

Obviously, we all have a brain type that we like, and obviously every horse (and dog) is an individual. So we all know whether we like a kick ride or a pull ride, a thinking horse or an over-eager horse, on and on.

But most of us, however much we say we choose for brain first, have at least some breed preferences. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with those breeds, it just means it doesn’t fit our aesthetic or riding choices. And the very fact that there are breeds mean that some characteristics are more common in them than not. While it is misleading to say that all representatives of a certain breed are hot or cold, smart or dumb, you are more likely to get those characteristics because there has been a program of selective breeding to encourage them. That’s why we have breeds.

So I am wondering how we get there, as individuals, how we develop preferences for breeds, and how that influences us.

I didn’t necessarily pick Tristan totally blind, as he has lots of things I like:

thick neck, close-coupled, pretty but not delicate head, good bone

I’ll go first. I don’t like breeds with lots of hair: Friesians, Gypsy Vanners, some of the drafts, some of the ponies. They do absolutely nothing for me. I don’t like the more “delicate” looking breeds: most Arabians, some of the taller/thinner Warmbloods (like Trakehners, usually), breeds like the Akhal Tekes or Marwaris.

My all time favorite breed, the one I will buy from someday, the one whose base characteristics match up with my aesthetic preferences and what I like in a brain, is Morgan. I like them with lots of bone, thick through the body and the neck, short-backed and close-coupled, with a fine but not dainty head. I like a horse that’s smarter than I am, that has energy and sensitivity but would like to negotiate, and that has more of an all-around profile than something specific.

Why do I like that? I like the feel of a more solid horse. I like a horse that is quick but not reactive. I like the look of a heavier horse, but not as heavy as a draft. It’s a bit tough to really spell out.

So: what do you like? Why? Do you think it’s nature or nurture – were you exposed to a lot of that breed in formative years, or have you always loved them from afar? Do you really think you have zero breed preference at all? Why is that?

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Talking through it

I did not know Irene, as many of you did, nor had I read her blog, through some kind of terrible oversight. I’ve read posts about her in quiet grief.

I am no stranger to effed-up brain chemistry. I can’t imagine that anyone is, in this world. Depression is a disease, and it is ruthless.

If you are in this place, please, please reach out, ok? Doing so is not weakness. It’s bravery. You are an extraordinary person, and the world needs you. Don’t let your depression tell you otherwise. Depression is a fucking liar.

There are people who are trained to help you, and who want very much to help you, if you feel you are unable to reach out to your regular support group, or if you feel like you don’t have one.

Here’s just one resource: the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. Call them at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Please, please, please.

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More Poles

New and different poles exercise last night, done with a bareback pad and at the walk.

Three poles set up in a fan pattern in the corner, with the fourth about two or three strides away. We did it at the walk, starting with just a big warmup around the ring, getting him a little bit loose and swingy and a bit softer and more bent.
Then we did the two poles on the outside line, which were set up so I could avoid the corner fan, and got him to start lifting his back and really stepping over the poles.
Then we incorporated the fan into it, staying in the middle but still going all the way around the ring. This proved trickier, since a) I hadn’t gotten the striding quite right and b) Tris still wasn’t really with me yet.
I took a break from this to ask him to canter a bit – not really a lot, or to school it, just to get a bit more jump in his step and to get him thinking a little more forward.
He was reluctant to canter, through, I’m sure some combination of stiffness and my lack of really solid seat with the bareback pad contributed to that. Once he did, he moved much better.

Then we moved to a smaller circle and worked over just the fan of the poles. The nice thing about having them out like that was that I could guide the exercise more specifically. We worked on the inside of the poles, requiring a much tighter stride, and then on the 15m circle we spiraled out and went on the outside of the poles, which meant a bigger stride.
I was really pleased with how the exercise worked out, but not necessarily with how I rode. I just wasn’t quite present like I needed to be to handle Tristan’s stiffness and unwillingness that day.
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Still here

I hear you, puppy.

No blog post roundup this week, sorry!

Tris and I are both still alive and well. We’ve just been insanely busy this week.

Him, eating and sleeping and doing lazy horse things.

Me, going at breakneck speed on house projects, dealing with eight million things at work, and then hosting my entire family for Thanksgiving. Which went great! Despite the usual snags and oh the upstairs toilet and the kitchen sink going on the fritz. Sigh. Also, the downstairs bathroom not being finished (more on that later).

In addition to that, I brought my home computer in to a shop this week hoping that they could give it a tune-up. I am one of the last of the dinosaurs using an older desktop computer for most home computing, and mine was running like molasses. They cleaned it up and are going to double the available memory for me, which should get me another 3-5 years of use before I have to re-purchase.

Hence, less blogging. I didn’t really think about how much I relied on having a home computer to blog, especially during an insanely busy work week, but there you have it.

I am hoping for a return to normalcy and sanity soon. I’d like that.

In the meantime, here’s a shirt I bought while getting new shower curtains at Walmart. I would like t-shirt weather back so I can wear it!

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Small Victories

Some months ago, I found a really nice Goretex insulated barn jacket on clearance at SmartPak. I examined every inch and determined that the zipper was broken: it no longer had a retaining box at the bottom to stop it from opening up again once it was zipped. I was willing to live with that for the great price – it was a style of coat I really wanted.

I have started wearing it in past weeks, as it got colder. First I thought I would just leave it unzipped. That did not work. Then I thought I could use a safety pin to hold the bottom closed once zipped. That did not hold up to the rigors of riding.
Then I thought I would have it fixed, but the sewing shop I have used for small things in the past said it was unfixable, and I would have to replace the zipper at a cost of 2x what I paid for the coat. No thanks.
So I bought a zipper repair kit, and spent about 30 minutes Googling and thinking and trying different things. The end result? I added a second zipper clincher (the thing that actually moves up and down) to the bottom of the zipper. So now I can unzip it from the bottom if I want (like if I want more freedom of movement in the saddle) or leave it down, and it will stay zipped.
The zipper kit cost $10, I paid $40 for the jacket, and it retails for $279 right now. I call that a win!
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Unspeakable

So I was going gangbusters for a while there, and I just…am not right now. I’m not coping terribly well with my life. My usual coping skills are frayed and taut, or I am not giving enough attention to them. I have so many balls in the air I am honestly not sure how many there are, much less what color and shape they are – and when they’ll come down.

Case in point: I wrote a stack of cards, some of them with payment of bills. I addressed them. I put stamps on them. I carried them in my purse for 3 days to mail.

I have no idea what happened to them next. Literally no idea. I cannot place a memory of them, and I cannot find them. I assumed that I had mailed them in a fugue state until I checked my bank balances and the money was still there. Shit. Cue emails and apologies. I will double-pay the farrier on Friday. I will re-mail another payment. I will re-write the card to my friend who moved away.

Moments like that terrify me, because what else am I not thinking of? I run over and over and over the things I need to do and check on, and add to my lists, and review my lists from last week and yesterday, and hope that I’ve got it all, and that I haven’t screwed up any of the important things.

Which is a long way of saying I’m tired. I have family coming for Thanksgiving and a bathroom in pieces and I have to rip up part of the attic floor to try and get the upstairs bathroom functional and I have to shampoo my carpets because the dog decided for a few days to forget she was housebroken and I have to find a turkey and I have to plan everything and finish unpacking the library so there’s somewhere for my brother to sleep and and.

What does this have to do with horses? Well, I was late to work this morning because I woke up and it was 18 degrees and I ran around getting things ready for the handyman to work on the bathroom this morning and fretted about the cat and then I realized that Tristan’s medium blanket was still in the back of my car. So I dropped the dog off at daycare and then dropped Tristan’s blanket off at the barn and was late to work. It’s ok though I’ll be here until 9pm today!

Last night, I did get to the barn and free longed Tristan for a while, which was not his favorite thing, and soaked one of his feet because he’s been having some thrush problems. He was spunky and a little grumpy about not having had his grain yet, but overall it was good to fuss over him for a while.

I’m happy with his general condition right now, though I would like more muscle; he’s in good flesh and overall happy and healthy.

Pony JAIL. They never feed him, clearly.
We never feed this one, either. Her life is really hard. She did not believe me when I told her she was going to daycare today.
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3 Things I (Re) Learn Every Time I Drop Stirrups

Happy No Stirrup November, everyone! I am not fully participating in the festivities for a variety of reasons that mostly boil down to, I can’t always do the work I need to with Tristan without stirrups, at least not right now.

I am, however, trying to do 15-20 minutes of quality schooling work within each ride without stirrups. When I dropped them for the first time last week it had been quite a while since I’d purposefully schooled without stirrups. I ride without a saddle all the time, but am rarely working in trot or canter when I do that.

So I started thinking about all the things that change on me when I drop stirrups and try to be productive.

1. I ride some things better and some things worse.

With stirrups, I am far better at riding and improving the trot than the canter.

When I drop stirrups, my trot abilities go by the wayside, and I am magically much better at sitting deep and properly using my core to lift up in the canter.

My up transitions are better without stirrups; my down transitions are better with stirrups.

The walk is a toss up, since I ride that so often both ways.

I am better at encouraging and correcting for straightness in Tristan without stirrups and am just more sensitive to tipping or weighting one hind leg over the other.

On the other hand, I am much better at putting together a cohesive, planned ride with stirrups.

2. I am somehow always surprised by the journey I go through with my muscle groups.

It always starts out with me tensing my hip flexors as I try to go a little bit fetal.

Then, as I learn to let go of those – usually just as they’re getting a little sore or tweaked – I re-re-re-realize how much more deeply I need to engage my core. So I go down that route.

Then I re-learn just exactly what engaging my core means, usually about the time I’ve given myself a nice little side cramp from holding my breath and/or letting my lower back muscles slack off.

Somewhere in there I also go through a slump/straighten cycle with my shoulders and neck, and a round under/straighten up cycle with my pelvis as I work to follow Tristan’s movement without jarring him.

3. Tristan is not an easy horse to ride without stirrups, but he is a saint.

Tris needs a lot of leg. He needs to be sharpened off the aids early and often. His default is to slam his shoulders around and get thick and heavy and difficult to steer when he’s not thrilled with what’s going on. His gaits have never really been smooth (though in his defense they are not dramatically choppy, either). So that means that I have to make trade-offs in what I want to accomplish with him versus myself when I’m riding without stirrups.

On the other hand, if I am fair to him and warm him up properly, soften his back a bit, and then start to work without stirrups? He’ll tolerate my flailing around all day long. If I get too badly off-balance, he pulls up automatically. He gets very worried about me when I’m clearly not coping well. He’ll truck along and take the joke all day long, and often, once I’ve got my feel and my rhythm and my balance nailed, he gives me big lovely sweeping on the bit trots because he’s just glad I finally connected my damn core through my seat.

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[Probably] Last Ride Outside

Vermont – and most of New England – is in a bit of a heat wave for early November, by which I mean it’s in the low 60s for the high. So earlier this week I got to the barn while it was still light out, and thought, hey, I could go outside and get some work done!

Tris was sore from a hard school we’d done the day before so I was focused on getting him moving and stretching. He was not thrilled with that plan, especially when it involves some long & low work over trot poles. For Tristan, being in the outdoor is an time to flail around, run through his shoulders, and generally work on freight train management.
Because there were jumps set up, we also had some steering issues: he wanted to bolt toward them and jump all the things, which would not have ended well for either of us. So I mostly tried to re-route that energy.

You may or may not be able to see in this photo, but he has a fair amount of blue paint on his front left hoof from knocking into poles. So, mixed success on re-routing.
He was sweaty and puffing after even that very short ride – both from the work he put in avoiding what I was asking him to do and from the temperature. So he got walked out for a while and then clipped.
It’s possible we will get one or two more schooling rides outdoors, but between the time change and the impending change of season, I doubt it.