Peter Hurd
English 50
10-08-02
Lessons Learned from
a Hard Fall (part three)
During my summer of horses I learned
things that might qualify me as an intermediate. I am fairly proficient in leg
yielding; I keep my eyes up, heels down and back hollowed out. I can post, sit
to a trot, canter, and survive most bucks and crow hops. I know about the round pen, ground
manners, and tack. But for all I managed to squeeze into that summer, there is
one thing that couldn’t be rushed: Experience. From experience grows the mental
aspects of horsemanship, such things as confidence, force of will, and
perseverance. Some horses do not require these virtues in great amounts.
Unfortunately, Blossom is not one of those horses. As such, my lack of expertise
announced itself to Blossom when I failed to meet her
demands.Consistency must be maintained if a horse is to learn. A
reward or punishment
must be consistently given for a specified action. If a horse is being praised
but at the same time it senses hostility from the trainer, it gets confused.
Eventually this confusion leads to distrust. If you have a horse like Blossom,
who is a perfectionist and requires constant reassurance, they get very angry,
very quickly when they become unsure of themselves and their rider.
Why did Blossom do what she did? In my
narrative I began with Blossom throwing me, when in reality that event did not
occur until near the end of ride. I began the ride in the round pen and had
intended to stay in that circular area and practice her canter, but she would
have nothing of it. We had been working in the round pen for the last few weeks
and she had grown tired of it, to such a point that any command I gave was meet
with a snarl and buck. Finally, we decided to move to the field to practice her
canter. By this time, I was both unsure and angry. I tried to calm her with pats, but it did
nothing, Blossom knew what I felt. She went much better in the field at first,
trotting and cantering to the left very well, but Blossom was trained to be a
race horse and turning left was familiar. We decided to go to the right and test
if we had made any progress in the pen. I wasn’t sure of her ability to canter
to the right. Blossom sensed this as well and refused to canter at first. I
persisted and gave her another kick. Frustrated by my indecision she responded,
though not in the manner I had hoped. It was more of an effort to remove the
two-faced rider from her back than to canter. She succeeded and then managed to
break into a very nice right lead canter.
Of course the story doesn’t really end
there. Blossom and I have not gotten over our issues as of yet. Nor will we do
so in the immediate future as I am occupied as a BioSci major at UVM. For the
time being, my teacher/trainer tackles the task of raising Blossom. This is
heartening not only because I know her to be a good trainer, but because Blossom
tries to throw her as well. Though our relationship is less than perfect, I
still have hope. We are both young and youth contains the promise of growth. I
suspect that as Blossoms grows, she will gain patience and respect. Likewise, as
I mature, I will gain the skills needed to contain Blossoms less-than
subservient behavior. This is the nature of relationships; one half grows to
complement the other. Though natural, it is not always apparent. Sometimes it
takes a push, or a fall, in the right direction.
