My horse Gou  has a history as a bit of a sickly chap – I think my insurance company would agree.   In the two years I have had him he has had approximately £12,000 worth of veterinary treatment and a million billion pounds worth of feed, supplements, oils, massages, physiotherapy, e- bleeding cetera.  As well as hours and hours and hours of my time slogging round on long lines, over poles, up and down hills, and round and round the indoor school.

After all this time, he is undoubtedly moving better, he looks slightly better and is beginning to think that maybe he could work out some stuff rather than panic when asked any kind of question.  My vet thinks further medical intervention is probably out of the question (I don’t know how he is going to afford to keep going without Gou on his books). Some of the supplements seemed to help, but who knows, none of them have made any real lasting improvements. So, shit, it looks like if there are going to be any long term prospects for Gou from here on in, it is down to me. Blimey. Deb Bennet  would have a field day.

What’s that Winston Churchill quote – There’s something about the outside of a horse which is good for the inside of a man? Well I am pretty certain that there needs to be something on the inside of a person which is good for the inside of a horse.  I think that all great horse people are providing this for their horses regardless of the different techniques they are using, or things they are doing. They give the horse what it needs in terms of direction, clarity, security, being completely present and having a confidence in themselves and their horses.

I have just spent the weekend working with Mark Rashid on exactly this. If I could get my crazy human brain out of the way, I think Gou and I will be flying. I am fortunate that I have a very conscious friend close to hand who can help keep me on track, and she doesn’t take any prisoners. I get a feeling this is going to involve changing the way I think a bit, being brave enough to make some mistakes, being completely consistent, and doing all of this with an intent and feel that is appealing to my horse, oh and to me.

It’s really simple, but it’s not always that easy – we only mere people after all. And I don’t think it is ALL that you need. I still think you need to understand how to school a horse, and what he needs physically to carry you and stay sound. But I think the quality with which you do this is critical.

If Gou is going to really blossom, he is going to need to feel better, and no amount of brewers yeast or meso therapy is really going to get to the heart of the matter.  He is an exacting horse, expecting the best from his rider, and it looks like he is feeling physically well enough to get on with it now, so I had better step up to the plate.

I know this post isn’t very amusing, but I feel like I need to get it out of my system so you’ll just have to bear with me.

A good horse has never got a bad hair do.

Following on from Sarah’s comment about some horses finding ridden work easier than others, here are some of my AMAZING thoughts on the matter. Now I do believe “dressage” is for all horses, and all horses benefit from being ridden in a way which is good for them physically and mentally. But, I have discovered a short cut to prancing about (which is essentially what I want to do).

Not too long ago I owned a lovely, handsome, sweet cob x called Texas Pete. I had Tex from when he was young, and he was marvellous. His main talents were;

• Letting his lower lip wobble
• Falling asleep with his head resting against a wall
• NOT spooking at things
• Cantering slowly in straight lines

At this time I was spending far too much time on youtube watching videos of various riders and trainers twiddling about looking fabulous. However, when I went out to work with Tex  we seemed to be so far away from what these guys were doing, I would literally cry.  Tex was trying his best, I knew that, but his best was not producing what those guys on the intraweb were doing. And if I really believed that all the responsibility for this lay with me and not with the horse, then the real problem sat with me. I was gutted – I was shit and I had to face it. At this stage I did own Gou, but his physical problems were so major, riding wasn’t really on the cards…

Then one day we were working with some friends of ours who owned Lusitanos, and as part of the schooling session both Sarah and I rode the little stallion. Oh lord. Despite the fact this horse was rushing and worried (which is what we were working on), this was a whole new experience.  This small horse was the smoothest, most perfectly balanced creature – he could turn on a sixpence and felt like riding a grey sofa. Sarah had to be prised off his back by two grown men.

I was also studying more about the way horses are put together and was beginning to think that some horses were going to find certain things easier than others. Markedly so, it was beginning to appear. I decided to just dip my toe into the Iberian horse market and see if they were really all they were cracked up to be. And it turns out, they were. I tried a few horses and every single one blew me away- so balanced, so comfortable and with workmanlike attitudes to boot. I was beginning to think that all these guys doing wonderful things loose or ridden had actually made the wise decision to invest in horses who knew how to do all this stuff from the moment they plopped out into the straw. Now I am not saying they are not great horse people – many of them certainly are. But I think they might find things slightly tougher if they were trying to convince Hamish (or our resident Fjord, Gali) to do a levade whilst loose schooling. Both those boys would be off to tuck into the nearest available hedge…

So, on going to see Tycoon just three weeks into ridden work, walk, trot, canter around what appeared to be a BMX track,  I decided to just stop berating myself for being a cop out and get him. I am a complete cheat, and I know it, but life is short- get the horse who does the job you want, it makes things considerably easier all round.  Tex is now ambling happily around country lanes and eating polos. Tycoon and I are beginning our career of prancing, cantering in circles and doing stuff with big sticks (of the garrocha kind, not the hitting with variety). Fancy riding made simple – kindly brought to you by Spain and Portugal.

In the picture taken just after this we are doing something INCREDIBLE.

Has your horse finished his GCSE’s and is Not in Education, Employment or Training?  Does he need a place on an exciting apprenticeship scheme?  Hang on, that’s my day job…

I have been pondering a lot recently on what it means to give something purpose for a horse. There is a school of thought which postulates that everything you do with a horse must be a ‘job’ – that you should always be preparing for something which has ‘meaning for the horse’, otherwise he won’t understand or care about what you are asking.

I have experienced the difference a ‘job’ can make to the horse. We have a lovely cob here called Hamish who we used for the kids project. Hamish admirably tolerated lumping teenagers around the school, but he didn’t love it. Until one day they decided to harness him up and attach a mountain board to him – then we saw a different side to Hamish. He threw himself into the harness and seemed clear about what needed doing. We have seen this with him since, dragging barrels around the place (an important job on Dartmoor…do you think we need to find something to do?) and he is just a marvel at it.

I was talking to Tom about whether horses do need or understand a ‘job’. Tom is pretty clear that employment is a human concept (and one that he wants as little to do with as possible) and that actually all horses want is to feel safe. In actual fact, a horse doesn’t consider anything to be a ‘job’, but some things we ask him to do make him feel more ok. In the case of Hamish, pulling stuff is something he physically feels very able to do – and when he is doing it he is not being hassled, he finds a peace, or release. He has been taught how to do it, and he UNDERSTANDS it. So he feels safe. I was asking Tom about why Gou seems to love rounding up cows and ponies so much (he is like a guided missile at the sight of horns appearing over the horizon) he was saying that maybe as Gou is quite a worrier (ahem), when he and I are rounding up cows then we are both totally focused and there is no space in Gou’s brain (or mine) to worry about anything else. Sarah thinks it’s because he’s a bossy f****r.

So, if a job is something that only humans understand, what is it about ‘work’ that helps the horse – is it actually the effect it has on us? Do we get off the horses case when we are focusing on the job and so he has space to just be? Are we really clear about the purpose and this gives the horse the same feeling – and should we be trying to bring that to everything we do with our horse; whether that be a canter half pass or a circle in walk? Can we help the horse to play to his strengths and give him a focus in all we ask of him, whilst not drilling down into his every last thought?

I am trying to work out where Tycoon feels most safe and what job he might thrive in. So far it looks like standing still and becoming the Worlds fattest little stallion are his main employment aims. Tell that to Job Centre Plus .

Hamish- earning a crust.

Damn you, Widdicombes. And you Philippe, in your impeccably tailored suits (which cause me a whole other set of problems, probably not for discussion here…). Oh, and Mark Rashid, you’ve dealt me a difficult hand too. Tom Dorrance – don’t even get me started. And there are more of you on my hit list. Ritter, you’re a problem. Racinet, not much better.  Marijke, pretty and kind as you are – you have spoiled things for me.  And the bunch of old dudes who started it all are really going to get a piece of my tiny mind.

Once upon a time, I knew just the one way – and it was easy. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, or what kind of animal a horse was, but we kind of got by. When I wasn’t falling off.  Sometimes I couldn’t stop, but as long as the hill was long enough and steep enough, it wasn’t an issue. I seemed to need the attentions of a physio after each session schooling my horse, but I guess that was normal..? And I had been taught the age old art of fiddling your horse’s head down; putting him ‘on the bit’ we call it in the UK, and that made everything FINE.

And then I was shown another path – by those buggers at the top of this post. And all of a sudden, things weren’t so simple anymore. It’s a bit like life (how very innovative, relating some horse based insight to a wider context…) once you see things for what they are, you can’t go back. Fiddling your horses head down is easy – it gives the appearance of a ‘round’ horse,  makes the horse easier to control, and you basically just hold him in place. Pimps.  Teaching your horse to seek the bit, to softly bend, to change his balance as and when you need him to- and to FREELY do this- a whole lot bloody tougher.

On top of this, it seems I need to understand how my horse functions physically and mentally, and to try to make him feel better on both counts.  And to learn to manage mine and his balance, critical I now see; why didn’t anyone ever mention it before? And I have to be aware of my horses’ natural crookedness and to be prepared to take as long as it bleeding takes to ride him straight. Oh, and calm. And hang on, also forward – not by the means of constant nagging with my legs. Jeez.  You lot don’t want much do you?

And for any of this to be really meaningful, one must develop excellent feel and timing, equestrian tact, or whatever you want to call it. And you must practice a meditative, being in the moment, completely present state, at all times. No more mental shopping list writing or texting whilst riding then.

And, the big one –  not a single jot of this is my horse’s responsibility, it is all mine. As the dashing Frenchman so eloquently put it, ‘Ze horse ‘must’ nothing!’ It is not down to him, it is down to me. And I’m already 35, where on earth am I going to find enough years to get good enough? I can hear Gou tapping his hooves impatiently as I type…

During my time in Portugal, Pedro and I had many interesting discussions  (I know not whether Pedro considered them to be interesting, or even discussions, but that is the beauty of living only in my head), and disagreed and agreed in fairly equal measure.

Key points of disagreement include:

• The length of one’s chaps or trousers. On this matter we both remained intractable.  I stand by my principles on this – no mans trouser should come above the top of the shoe.
• Whether you need to say please or thank you when asking for or receiving some mind blowing cup of tar like, caffeine fuelled (surely amphetamine?) coffee.
• Ginger cats. Me = manna from heaven; him  = vermin

Things we agreed on:

• Listening to music whilst riding is a much underrated combination.
• Drinking alcohol and riding at night, with fire involved, is more fun than can possibly be conceived of.
• Going fast sideways in canter whilst sticking things into a bicycle masquerading as a bull is hugely enjoyable, even for the vegetarians amongst us.
• Sitting on a magnificent horse makes you a better person.

During my lessons Pedro talked about what he wanted from his horse and some of it really rubbed me up the wrong way. He described the need for absolute compliance from his horses and was pretty clear about who was ‘in charge’.  I had already confronted him on a number of technical matters and techniques (I am sure the views of an annoying girl from Devon must have impacted hugely on a member of the National Working Equitation team…) and was now psyching myself up for the BIG ONE. The next time he said something about what he wanted from his horses in terms of their attitude towards him, I would tell him what I thought.

Next day, before my lesson had even started we were chatting about something and it came up,

Pedro:  casual; ‘What I want is submission’

Me: smug; ’ No way Pedro, what I want from MY horse is understanding and  a willing acceptance’.

Pedro: shrugs, Portuguese style ,‘This is submission’

Me:  frown, say nothing, English style. Stalk off to get on another impeccably trained horse.  Note to self – have a big think.

IMG_2511 – click here for video

Many thanks to Pedro Neves.

I do not believe that horses are here to teach us, but it seems we are able to learn some important stuff from them. Plus, when self help books and incessant naval gazing don’t improve the situation, one begins to clutch at straws.

If Gou, my 7 year old Lipizzaner, were a man I suspect he would be handsome, skinny, mildly neurotic and quietly arrogant. Just my cup of tea (sadly, I’m not joking). I have spent the past two years concerning myself with every nuance of how Gou feels –emotionally and physically. From moment to moment I have tried to understand how he is reacting to any given situation and how I can make things better. Is he anxious now? Or now? Is that a shut down expression, or relaxed one – sometimes it’s hard to tell.  Is that ear fixed on me in a worried fashion, or is he listening attentively? I have left no stone unturned to discover what the causes of his anxiety might be. Is it his past? In which case, I just have to prove to him that there is a new future with me and everything will be ok! Is it something that happened in the field today or maybe even last week?  If he would just trust me he could find a way to relax I was sure. Maybe it’s the way I am being? Maybe I’m too tense, maybe I’m too goal orientated, maybe he hasn’t forgiven me for a time I got angry with him three weeks ago.

I have just been to Portugal to ride for a week – of which I will write more in future posts (that’s a warning…). It seemed to me that they cared less about what the horse might be feeling and would just like them to get on with the task in hand thank you. And miraculously, the horses just get on with the job.  So, since my return I have worried less about the specifics of what Gou may be anxious about and have just asked him to get on with it, please. Although this sounds like a considered tactic it was actually born out of,  ‘Oh for fucks sake, if those 4 year old Portugese stallions can carry a flaming Garrocha , I am sure as hell you can handle the spooky corner in the school’.  And interestingly, since I have stopped watching his every last move and obsessing about how I can make things better, Gou has cheered up considerably.

It seems I have been doing my horses head in with worrying about what’s going on inside it. Hmmm….’But, what are you really thinking??’ Maybe not that helpful after all.

I have also been party to a hard lesson in Treat ‘em mean, Keep ‘em keen this week. Gou is something of a Lathario and likes to keep all the mares to himself, fending off any incoming geldings. He is gelded, but pretty much behaves like a stallion. He rounds all the mares up, acts as their lord and master and in the spring is rather too interested in them. At the moment one of his mares is living in the indoor school for a short stint and he is keeping her company. She appears to have taken him at his word and endlessly follows him round trying to be within 6 inches of him at all times and wherever possible, pressed up against him. He simply cannot bear it and walks away from her rapidly with a look of utter exasperation on his face. It appears that while he loves the chase, any sign of neediness is utterly repelling and he didn’t make any promises about anything long term, actually.  I will be taking the mare out for a drink tomorrow to tell her she deserves better and they are all selfish bastards.

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