a fine romance

She handed off the little red horse to me, all the while cataloguing the litany of his sins and faults: ‘stubborn, you’ll have to crop him, then he’ll try to buck you off, he only wants to follow the others, then he will settle down – he likes to jump [whoa! – my class isn’t jumping yet!], his canter’s just ok’ . . . all this had apparently made for a very frustrating previous hour’s class for her. I smiled and thanked her and led Junior back to center ring to make our fresh start.

Somehow, I knew that there was another side to the story and I sensed that we were going to be able to “work things out”, me and Junior. After all, I was now in Intermediate Level 1 and our level is all about becoming independent, the leader of your horse. However, as soon as I mounted young Junior (he’s only 9 -- young compared to most of the horses I’m given to ride, 20 or so on average) I felt him settle into a determined stillness. Undaunted, I asked with my leg, repeated, spoke firmly “walk on” as I asked more insistently, eventually adding crop to leg. Junior remained absolutely immobile and then, as predicted by my predecessor, he kicked up his heels and somewhat halfheartedly tried to buck me off. For some reason all of this amused me and I sat quietly on him, asking again, willing him forward with all my best intentions.

My teacher Martha mentioned that I would need to use everything I had ever heard in the Centered Riding® clinics to be successful with Junior; she also mentioned that I was already doing much better with him than the previous “advanced” level rider! I felt myself swell with pride, but pretended to take it in stride. That type of comment, properly timed, can certainly build confidence, and since Martha is not known to hand those out routinely, it enhanced the effect and I took it to heart. Center, breathe, soft eyes, ease and release the neck, don’t react, just repeat. In fits and starts we began to walk. 

Still determined to show my independence and leadership, I asked him to circle away from the group in the large outdoor ring. A dead stop followed and we began again. Hummmm, she did mention that he liked to follow the other horses, so I decided to let him see the others as we picked up a trot; once we established our rhythm and he was fast approaching the rear of the horse ahead I guided him to cross the ring, determined to keep my clear intent. And cross the ring is just what we did, blending smoothly in to trot merrily along the rail.

With a matchmaker’s skill, Martha casually dropped a few choice comments: he’s always been one of her favorites, he’s just a big teddy bear, and the not-so-subtle wouldn’t you two look great galloping around together . . . love was in the air. Seriously, once we got moving, Junior was a very nice little horse (little is a relative term where a few hundred pounds here or there define the gradations). I felt very comfortable with him, felt his appreciation for my sensitive yet firm approach, my compassion for him, and my good-natured acceptance of his just being a horse, testing me because that is what they do!

This week, after our second class together, I began to wonder about my beloved – is he a chestnut, or maybe a sorrel, yes that sounds romantic – he could be a sorrel. (No, Martha says he is a chestnut!). Memories surfaced of the curiosity that comes along with courtship . . . it is a kind of love affair, isn’t it?

No, that is not Junior shown above, but another redhead: Annelie’s chestnut mare Abby who I had the pleasure of meeting during my first year of riding. Easy-going Abby knew I was a “pushover” at that point and took advantage of my green-ness to eat all the grass she wanted as I delicately attempted to persuade her otherwise!