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Posted by Marianne Williams, Jan 27 2009, 10:20 AM
It’s past time to invest in some tack. Deb has good-naturedly hauled her saddles and pads to my house several times for me to evaluate fit and style, but I need to take the plunge and buy my own gear. I did some research on-line, talked to some knowledgeable folks, and settled on making a road trip to Hemphills in Vassalboro, Maine. This is a family-owned full-service feed and tack shop with a reputation for solid value and excellent customer service.
I walked in the store probably knowing less about saddles and bits and bridles than anyone else in recent history. In my hand I clutched a yellow legal pad with some handwritten notes of advice from my trainer. She had recommended that I focus on purchasing a saddle with a full quarter horse bar and advised me to sit on at least a couple dozen saddles before making a choice.
I approached the gal behind the counter and told her what I was looking for and asked for some help right up front. Her name was Kelly and she herded me off to the western saddle racks and start hauling all kinds of saddles down for me to try. There was a molded plastic saddle tree conveniently located right in the middle of the aisle so I tossed the selected saddles on it, climbed aboard, and started riding.
I found that I could discard some saddles immediately as they were too hard or too big or just didn’t feel comfortable to me. The ones I liked, I set off to the side for 2nd and 3rd rides. I had walked in thinking that a 16 inch saddle would work best, but found that a 15 inch saddle fit me a lot better. I whittled my choices down to 6 saddles and then began comparing workmanship, style, and price. Then I rode some more. Folks in the store smiled at me as they walked by doing their own shopping. This was hard work.
I asked Kelly about the store’s return policy in the event that I chose the wrong size. She said that I needed to keep the tags attached and that I could fit Bella with the saddle, but that I couldn’t take her out for a test ride. I assured her that Bella was far from the cold day in Hell when she was going to let me ride on her back, so this return policy was perfect for me. I happily settled on an all-leather, coffee-colored, 15-inch Mississippi Trail Reinsman saddle with a flex tree. From there, it was an easy reach to the saddle pads and I quickly chose a Professional Choice Air Ride pad that boasted of being #1 in orthopedic pad technology.
With those decisions made, I headed off to choose a bit, bridle, and reins. Hemphill staffer Bonnie offered to help me with these choices and together we evaluated types of bits. Deb had advised me to go with a 5-inch sweet iron snaffle bit with copper inlay and Bonnie agreed that this was a good bit for a young horse. I knew from my research that the sweet iron would rust and taste sweet to Bella, and the copper in-lays would make her salivate and keep her mouth comfortable. I chose a simple bit, and with Bonnie by my side, made my way over to the bridle wall.
Bella loves to scratch her head so Bonnie and I decided to go with a full head stall as opposed to a one-ear styled bridle. I like elegant, yet simple styling, and chose a plain Tex Tan head stall with matching split leather reins from the dizzying array of choices hanging on the wall. Bonnie gathered up my purchases to take to the front, giving me time to wander through the aisles stocked with farrier tools, cowboy hats, boots, oil-skins and fringed jackets. Outside there were horses for sale and various out-buildings filled with feed, fencing, bedding, and horse trailers. I was told that they also have a lot of used tack for sale and that they take trade-ins. Hemphills is definitely a one-stop shop for horse lovers and the staff (including the owner’s daughter Brenda) lives up to its reputation of friendly, knowledgeable customer service.
It was raining when I arrived home, so I had to wait until the following morning to fit Bella’s saddle. I introduced her to her new pad and settled it on her back. I brought out her saddle next and let her nose it through the fence bars. I was careful not to let her get her teeth on it in the event that I needed to return it to Hemphills. Bella never even flinched when I tossed the saddle up on her back. It looked great. From my unskilled point of view, the fit appeared correct, too. Deb is coming out in a couple of days to check it out, so I removed it and stored it safely in the house until her arrival.
I expected that Bella would love her bit (as she is so oral) and I was right about this. She took it in her mouth without a problem and happily tongued and slobbered all over it. The head stall also went on easily and Bella wandered happily around the pen licking her new bit as I snapped her photo. I planned for more desensitizing around her flanks for the next day’s training with an additional focus on mounting block work. Deb wants me to get her to stand quietly at the block in preparation for an eventual 2nd chance at sitting quietly on her back. This time I’m going to remember to keep my energy low and my focus on Bella. I’ll also be wearing my helmet – just in case.
Posted by Marianne Williams, Dec 19 2008, 01:49 PM
Finally, Bella’s Parelli bareback pad arrived. It’s beautifully constructed of black suede and brown leather and has a leather handhold where you normally find a saddle horn. My trainer (Debbie) had me place it on the ground so that Bella could approach and sniff it. Right away it got quite dirty from her pawing and gnawing so I got over that “new saddle smell” right away.
I took my time in introducing it to Bella and was rewarded with a calm, complacent horse. I rubbed it on her face, her withers, her flanks, and up and down her legs. I tossed it over her back and quickly removed it several times. By the time I was ready to lightly cinch it, Bella was completely comfortable with the entire process.
I led her to my mounting block and spent quite a bit of time leaning over her and pulling on the pad from either side. She attempted to walk off and I led her back each time and made her stand. Debbie stayed outside of the pen and watched us work. When we both felt the time was right, I began leaning across Bella’s back, placing a bit more weight on her each time. We took it slowly and I backed off any time I sensed her discomfort.
Debbie kept a close eye on us and encouraged me to breathe as naturally as possible in order to keep Bella calm. I draped myself like a sack of potatoes over the saddle and tried to do as Debbie instructed. As time went on, I slowly brought my body around so that I was in what I like to call a superwoman position on Bella’s back. This seemed to go well and Debbie encouraged me to slowly bring my legs down (without touching Bella’s sides) and slowly ease myself up to a semi-sitting position in the saddle.
Now this is when things got interesting. Unaccustomed to seeing someone over her, Bella began nervously moving across the pen. In my ignorance, however, I took this as a sign of willingness on Bella’s part to ferry me around the round pen at a slow trot. In my excitement, I let out a big “YEE-HAW!” Debbie’s jaw dropped in absolute amazement at my sheer idiocy.
I went flying off of Bella. I mean, really flying -kind of like superwoman without the planned landing. Up until this point, Debbie had been snapping photos of the two us. She had to stop, however, when I went flying through the air because she just couldn’t believe her eyes. Fortunately, I had my helmet on. Though I landed hard, my only injury appeared to be a somewhat compressed spine from landing so forcefully on my feet which was quickly followed by an even harder landing on my butt.
At that point, there was only one logical thing to do: I had to get up and resume our lesson. As one can imagine, I got quite an earful from Debbie about “remaining calm” and “learning to read Bella” and “safety first”, etc. I tried to explain that this was just my natural exuberance coming out, but my explanation just garnered me a steely, red-headed glare from the boss.
To date, this has been my only ride on Bella. Afterwards, we went back to the basics of groundwork and desensitization and I was given a bunch of homework to do. But Debbie comes tomorrow – and she’s bringing her Crate western saddle. It’s a real beauty. I can’t wait to see what it looks like on Bella.
Posted by Marianne Williams, Nov 24 2008, 10:35 AM
My blog has had 1554 views. I can’t imagine how many people have read my entries and thought, “What a fool. This woman has no business trying to train a mustang. She’s probably going to get herself killed.”
I’ve already had several opportunities to do just that, but not with Bella. I accidentally shot myself one time (in the hand) and I did run myself over with my own truck and even got tangled up with a bagful of urchins after running out of air while diving. However, the most memorable incident was after I shot a 45 pound cobia during a spear-fishing tournament only to have it swim circles around me while tangling the stainless steel lead-line around my fool neck. Now that was scary. But these were all foolhardy things that only involved me.
I am much more mindful of how careful I must be with Bella. She depends on me to act in a thoughtful manner and to be someone that she can trust and depend on. Writing a blog adds an additional dimension to our training as it allows me (or forces me) to assess our work with a critical eye. I am honest with my readers about my feelings, my frustrations, and my doubts about my own ability to train this horse. I make mistakes and some days are better than other days. Today was a good day. It went like this:
1. Whistle for Bella and reward her with an apple (placed on the ground) when she comes.
2. Affix her rope halter and lead and begin moving her feet. She backs with just wag of my finger, disengages her hindquarters when I cock my head, and leads with a slack rope.
3. We do a bit of driving at the walk and trot. I have her change directions several times by doing inside turns.
4. We head for the gate. She stands quietly with the lead at her feet as I open the gate. She waits for my cue, then we step outside the gate and walk down the dirt road.
5. As I lead her, I abruptly stop. She stops. I back, she backs. I zig-zag along the road and she watches and follows my every step.
6. Back up the drive we go to the round pen. I lead her in, drop the rope, and then take my time getting her brushes and toys from outside the gate. She stands quietly.
7. I begin to brush her. She starts to move her feet. I stop brushing and practice the one-rein stop and disengage her hindquarters. When she becomes still, I praise her and begin brushing again. Every time she moves, I put her back in a tight circle and quit brushing. Eventually, she gets it. She sighs and stands still. I brush her.
8. I move in front of her head to brush her forelock. She raises her head. I pull gently on the lead and tell her “head down”. She lowers her head. I begin brushing. She pops her head back up. I quit brushing. “Head down”, I tell her. And on it goes…Eventually, she keeps her head down.
9. Out comes her saddle. She isn’t cinchy at all and stands quietly. I drive her gently and then check the tightness of her girth. I cinch it up a bit and then load a couple of sandbags on her back. No problem there. I have her make a few circles around the pen with just hand signals from me. She isn’t exactly enthusiastic but she does as she is asked.
10. I move on to desensitizing her. She has a problem with me touching her flank which interferes with our porcupine game. More than once she has swished her tail and cocked her leg. I use my carrot stick for this so I can stay out of kick range. I wield the stick like a violin bow and saw it across her back. I move it down her back legs and under her stomach and quickly dart in to her flank and then dart back out. I do this for nearly 20 minutes. She appears to be less sensitive by the time I finish.
11. I ask her for a front foot by gently squeezing her chestnut. She lifts her hoof at my slightest touch. I inspect it for rocks and then place it gently on the ground. I move to her other side and do the same. I still use the rope to assist me in lifting her back feet. I don’t trust her completely in this area. She willingly lifts her hooves, but also tries to back at the same time. I make a mental note to ask Debbie about this.
12. Yesterday she freaked out when I brought out some orange survey tape ribbon. Today I take a 6 foot section and ball it up and then begin rubbing her all over with it. I slowly let it unravel to its full length then tie it to my carrot stick for further desensitization. She is unsure about all of this so I take my time in showing her that it won’t hurt her. I play the friendly game and toss it across her withers, her back, around her feet and over her ears. By the end of the session, I’m snapping it around the pen and over her head and body like we’re in a circus and it’s a big flag. I add in some circus music singing just for good measure and then bring out the lobster pot and top to use as a cymbal. I make a fearsome racket. My husband says that it is good that we have no close neighbors.
13. We end our training session by tying her lead to the rail for 5- 10 minutes. I have found that I cannot use a safety knot as she can untie one of these in 5 seconds flat. I sit atop the rail and just hang out while she tries to untie my granny knot. She finally gives up and sighs and just rests.
14. It’s getting dark now. I untie her from the rail, lead her to the center of the pen, and then drop the lead. I unfasten the gate and then return to stand in front of her while I relax my posture and pretend to look out to sea while secretly watching her with my peripheral vision. If she even starts to move, I straighten up and look hard at her. When she stills, I relax my posture again. This exercise lasts just 5-6 minutes, but it is important. She needs to stand when I stand and not move off. Like everything else we do, she gets this almost immediately.
15. Back down to the pasture we go. I remove her halter but still keep it around her neck. She attempts to shake it off. I keep a hold on her until she stands quietly. Then I let her go. Good girl, I tell her. You’re a good girl, Bella.
NEXT: THE FIRST RIDE (AND IT WAS A SHORT ONE!)
Posted by Marianne Williams, Nov 24 2008, 10:33 AM
It’s not about the Gate
A new day dawns, my confidence returns, and so does my trainer. The first bit of wisdom that she shares with me is that, “It’s not about the gate. It’s about me as the leader.” Grrr. I am definitely getting tired of this. “Why is always about me and never about Bella? I thought we were supposed to be training the horse. If Bella would just behave, I would be just fine…”
My mental musings are interrupted when Deb sends me in to Bella’s enclosure. I slip her rope halter and 12-foot lead line on and out of the pen we go. I spend the next 2-3 hours under Debbie’s direction as I practice leading Bella, backing her, directing her nose, and playing red light/green light games. Deb tells me that that these are all exercises geared towards getting Bella to pay attention to me as the leader.
Up and down the driveway we go. Bella makes many attempts to do things her way and Debbie switches places with me in order to show me what I must do in order to be the leader. As usual, this is exhausting for me. I am unaccustomed to doing things wrong. I have flown planes, I have run fishing boats, and I’ve worked as a commercial diver during many frigid Maine winters. I even have 2 teenage boys who work in tandem with one another to usurp my parental authority and I generally come out on top. Why on earth is it so hard for me to figure out how to be a leader to this horse?
Debbie senses my frustration and encourages me to take a couple of grazing breaks with Bella. She and I talk while I play the friendly game with Bella with my carrot stick. This stick is about 3-feet long and is made of fiberglass. It has a 3-foot long slender rope attached to it with a small leather popper on its end. I lightly throw the rope over Bella’s back and around her legs and over her face and ears during our friendly game. She tolerates this well, except for her ears, so I use my advance and retreat skills that I learned during my wild mustang training workshop to work this delicate area.
Our lesson culminates with me leading Bella to the gate. She immediately balks and begins to back. Deb instructs me to turn this backing behavior into my idea so I vigorously back Bella up another 10-15 feet. She’s a little surprised and I let her think a minute about all of this. I begin to lead her again towards the gate as Debbie quietly instructs me: “Don’t hesitate. Look at the gate. Look ahead of you. No, don’t look down. Look ahead, Marianne. Keep walking.”
I resolutely march towards the gate, eyes ahead, trying not to hold my breath, and trying not to think about the distinct possibility of Bella balking again. We’re now even with gate and she carefully lifts her hooves over the steel threshold and walks obediently in to the enclosure. Debbie claps. She is very proud of us.
I learn that Debbie was right. It wasn’t about the gate. It was all about me and my leadership skills. I come to realize that Bella will make me earn her trust and her respect before she allows me to wear the leadership mantle. In addition to her wild horse wariness, she has the highly developed sense of dominant mare. I know little of her history save for the fact that she is now 3 years old and was captured when she was just shy of turning 2 years old. Her band of wild horses was small – with approximately 70 horses of various ages. They spent their time foraging for grasses, fleeing from wild fires, and being on the look-out for predators such as mountain lions. Bella is hearty and strong and I yearn for the day when she finally allows me on her back.
But we have many lessons to go before this happens. We continue our daily work together and I spend my evenings reading horse training websites and watching Parelli DVDs that Debbie loans to me. I like watching the body language of Linda Parelli. She is supremely confident, yet never over-bearing, and is quick to recall her own training mistakes. I watch and rewind. Watch and rewind. I store up questions to ask Debbie and I observe Bella’s behavior as I attempt to implement what I am learning from my research. I find that the DVDs make it look a lot easier than what happens in real life.
As time goes by, Bella and I leave the yard and venture out in to the paths that crisscross the woods that cover our island. I discover that Bella loves the woods. She gamely crosses stonewalls and slides between closely knit trees. Overhanging branches fail to faze her and she confidently walks through the fallen slash of dead wood. We are having more fun together than I could ever imagine. We walk for 2-3 hours at a time. It occurs to me that Bella behaves well when her mind is engaged. She likes a challenge and so do I.
As the rains begin to fall, we find that some of our familiar paths are blocked by giant puddles. I’m wearing my leather cowboy boots so I skirt the edges of the puddles. Bella refuses to walk through the water and follows me closely behind as she perches precariously on the narrow, slightly-raised edges of the paths. I can’t believe that Bella won’t walk through the puddles. I bring this up the next time that Debbie comes over to work with us. I tell her how Bella follows me everywhere in the woods but that she is afraid of water.
Debbie questions me closely about our walks. She asks me if I am walking through the puddles. I tell her no because I’m wearing my really cool cowboy boots. She tells me to get some rubber boots and walk through the puddles and I will find that Bella will follow me. She tells me, “It’s not about the puddles. It’s about you as a leader.”
Bella and I go out walking the next day. I wear my old rubber fishing boots and wade right through the middle of the puddles. Without the slightest hesitation, Bella follows me. It dawns on me that I had been silently telegraphing to Bella that the puddles were unsafe. As her leader, she watches me, and she follows me. If I walk on the edges, she does the same. She doesn’t know whether a puddle is 2 inches deep or 200 feet deep. She only knows that she must trust in the leader to do what is safe for the herd.
For now, it appears as if I am the leader of our herd. At least over puddles. I guess that’s a start.
Posted by Marianne Williams, Nov 7 2008, 09:42 AM
Bella – Part Two
Bella and I continue to work inside the pen. Even though it is a large enclosure (50 foot round pen) it’s hard to do much of anything aside from leading her in a circle or backing her up. My trainer (Debbie Little) wants me to practice leading her in a straight line and with a purposeful manner. This is hard to accomplish as we hit the fence line within a few steps of taking our imaginary walks to the grocery store or the bank or (my personal favorite) the local bar for a margarita. I’m quite entertained but Bella begins to show how absolutely bored she is with all of this and with me in particular. Debbie gently suggests that it is time for me to take Bella out of the pen and begin working with her in the drive-way. I hesitate doing so as my relationship with Bella is still in its early stages and I’m not absolutely certain that if I take her out of the pen that I will be able to get her back in the pen.
The afternoon comes, however, when I feel bold and confident enough to swing open the gate and lead Bella out in to the world beyond the confines of her enclosure. She immediately begins attacking the grass with gusto and I think to myself, “Shoot, this is pretty easy”. We hang-out and she eats grass and my job consists of keeping the 22-foot rope from tangling around her hooves. Twenty minutes go by, then 30 minutes, then 45, and it begins to get dark. Then the mosquitoes come out. Next I realize that I’m supposed to be up at my in-laws’ house for dinner in less than hour, and I still have to shower and slap on some make-up in order to be presentable. “Time to head in”, I cheerfully remark to Bella. Bella doesn’t budge. I give the lead rope a bit harder tug and Bella tugs back. I stand-up nice and tall and begin to walk with grave purpose towards the enclosure’s gate. Bella backs up with even more purpose and begins to systematically strip the 22-feet of lead rope right out of my hand. Then she begins dragging me across the lawn where there is greener and much taller grass. I seriously begin to think that I may be there all night - maybe even until Debbie shows back up for our next lesson.
The mosquitoes pull me out of my sorrowful musings and I assume my leadership stance. I stare longingly at the gate (which is now much further away) and apply pressure to the lead line as I begin to stride towards the gate. Bella follows me! I don’t dare to glance back at her but continue my quest for the pen until we are at the threshold and she steps daintily across the ground bar and we are safely in. I begin mentally rehearsing my phone call to Debbie while simultaneously berating myself for getting a wild horse that I obviously have no control over and who doesn’t respect me as a leader. I call Debbie and relay the whole misadventure. Debbie listens to me and then calmly says, “Yeah, we’ll have to work on that. See you tomorrow.”
Posted by Marianne Williams, Sep 25 2008, 09:25 AM
My name is Marianne Williams and I recently adopted a 4-year old mustang filly at a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) auction in Somersworth, New Hampshire. She had been in captivity for over a year after being captured in a round-up in the hot Nevada desert. I have named her Bella in honor of her Spanish Heritage. She is not only beautiful but she has a proud and noble bearing. We are partners in training – both of us green to our daily exercises. She is the smarter partner, by far. I appreciate her tolerance of me.
I prepared for Bella’s arrival by attending a 3-day wild mustang training workshop at the Ever After Mustang Rescue facility owned and operated by Mona Jerome in Biddeford, Maine. There, under the direction of world-class trainer Donna West, I learned equine safety, basic ground work, pressure and release, advance and retreat, and how to disengage a horse’s hindquarters.
I also studied the works of famous trainers such as John Lyons, Monty Roberts, and Linda Parelli. The more I learned, the more I realized how little I knew about horse training. My saving grace was to find a local natural horsemanship trainer by the name of Debbie Little at www.horseandriderconnection.com. Debbie has flaming red hair, the patience of Job, and a wonderful sense of humor. She is five foot nothing with the quiet commanding presence of a natural born leader.
We work together for two to three hours a day generally twice a week. I’m exhausted when she leaves. I’ve never done so many things wrong in such a short amount of time. We work on how to lead. I attempt to drag Bella along. Wrong. I start again. More dragging. Debbie switches places with me. I study her body language. I think I have it. I re-enter the pen. Now Bella trails behind me at least six feet. This is wrong, too. I start again. Once more I attempt to pull her. Wrong again. This goes on and on until finally, the light bulb comes on in my head. Eureka. I finally get it. I’ve just learned the most basic of training commands. It took me three hours to learn how to lead correctly. This is a humbling experience.
With Debbie’s guidance, I learn to walk like a leader, to maintain my space, and to quit letting Bella move my feet. I learn the subtleties of pressure and release and I rejoice when Bella learns to back with just the wag of my finger. I’ve now had Bella just 3 weeks. My confidence has increased and I begin to experiment.
I introduce Bella to a tightly rolled-up tarp. I rub it all over her using the advance and retreat method that I learned at the mustang workshop. Slowly, I unroll the tarp as I continue to work it all over her body. She hates it around her ears. I retreat again and again until she lets me rub this vulnerable part of her anatomy. The brown tarp gets bigger as I gradually unfold it. I rattle it around her. She stands for me as I place it on the ground in front of her. Tentatively, she reaches out a hoof. She paws it and then reaches down and grabs it in her mouth and gives it a big shake. I jump out of the way as she flings it around, scaring herself and me. She soon drops the tarp. I fold it again and we start all over. Someone once told me that gentling horses was a similar experience to watching paint dry. I think it’s more like hours and hours of repetition punctuated by moments of sheer terror.
We continue our tarp work. I whisper to Bella that she is a brave, brave girl. Slowly, I open the tarp and position it across her back and around her shoulders. Finally, after two hours of work, I have made a small accomplishment.
She looks like a super hero.
I feel like one.
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on Bella – Part Four