As I was saying...

It was bound to happen.

I had it in my head, given all the good signs we'd had recently that I would be able to get up on Mikey. He'd shown no aggression or even antsiness the last while and seemed eager to have me do things with him.

Even on Sunday, when we arrived and the boys came up to the gate for pets and cuddles, when I whispered to him that I was going to ride him, he took himself off to where we usually saddle up. I laughed and pointed it out to D. "I think he really understood me." D agreed and we unloaded the saddles and other tack and the girls and I ran off to do an errand before riding.

Darling Son and his g/f had come out to do some riding. She claims a lot of riding experience and since MY experience with horses makes me wary of anyone that goes around claiming they are 'an experienced rider', I limited her to Jack to avoid any drastic proof to the contrary. Son got up on Mel and it was comical as Mel put on his 'I'm stubborn I can't hear you' ears and stood around a lot.

Son hadn't seen the horses yet, and thought Mikey was the nicest looking of the bunch. :) His tastes (in horses and MOST other things (with a couple of notable exceptions) usually jibes with mine so I wasn't too surprised. DD#1 has it bad for palaminos, and DD#2 isn't into horses anymore after getting dumped rather soundly by Cricket. B and L are into the sorrels and chestnuts, although L has shown interest in a lovely blood bay filly that Carol has bred. A full sister to Jack, by the way, so maybe her taste will change. B's interest in sorrels might well be because Jack is such a sweetheart of a horse.

L was all cute on the phone, talking to her big brother. "You can use my horse," she intoned in that matter of fact, yes I do own the world voice of a 6 year old, "but you can't be rough with him. He's a good boy and if you ride him right he'll behave." Mel's take though, is the harder you work at making him GO, the less likely he will be to do so.

Anyhow, back to the Mikey incident. I got Jack and Mel saddled and Son and G/F up. Turns out she's not too bad on a horse. A little rusty and no idea of schooling or how to train, but would make a decent miler. Son had fun with Mel, although eventually he did get a trot out of him.

Mikey seemed a bit on edge when I saddled him, but I put that down to the green grass they'd been turned out on. (Nice, that it was done, but I do wish they'd ask us first. We sort of wanted to keep him on the low side of energetic :P and he's an easy keeper so really wasn't in need of the greenery.) Still, I was visualizing and all confident as I saddled and bridled him. He took the bit with his usual gentleman attitude and although he twitched a bit with the pad I really didn't think too much of it. Till later of course. Hindsight, thy name is truth.

I led him around and he seemed okay. I shifted the saddle back, making sure nothing was pinching and yet there was a tenseness about him. Still, nothing I can't deal with I thought. Off we went to the small corral. You know, the one with the slab fence. The slab fence just like the ones they use at feedlots. You know, where he'd been injured, and had that whole 'we'll ride him till we buck him out' episode where he went through one of those slab fences? However, that's where I'd tried to mount him before and he'd seemed ready to take me, so it didn't cross my mind. Until later. See above note regarding hindsight.

I discouraged son from leaning on the gate and watching me. Mikey had been bucked out and 'watched' a few times so I was trying to avoid any of the 'tells' that he'd dealt with before. I guess I forgot about the slab fences at feedlots. Sigh.

I placed my stool and he stood, as always, but as I put my foot in the stirrup and started to shift my weight to his back he trembled and bunched. I stepped off, but the stool wasn't solid in the ground and I overbalanced, falling back on my ass.

I had him facing into a chute and that's probably what spooked him as well as the slab fence. He hunched and popped, reared up and pivoted and there I was sprawled out on the ground pretty much under him. It's an awesome sight, let me tell you. But one I'll gladly not repeat. He pivoted as far as he could, I could see the muscles in his hind legs straining and the twist of his fetlocks. I'm not sure that he looked down at me, but I know he knew I was there.

I rolled, it probably all happened in an instant, he came down, despite seeming to have hung suspended in mid air till I could get around to moving, and his front hoof caught my thigh as he came down. Pinching it rather than slamming down on it, which probably saved me from a broken femur, but leaving a very good simulation of the old charlie horse, not to mention the flower bloom of a bruise that is just now starting to green and yellow at the edges. He bucked away past me. I think I felt the wind of his hooves on my cheek as I continued to roll up against the fence, but that could be the drama quee... er storyteller in me.

By the time I scrambled to my feet he'd bucked across the corral, reared and hung again, trembling then bucked again. D was on the other side of the gate, hands up, calling out to him to Whoa! Even though he respects that I need to do this myself he's always watchful and he was soothing him by voice already as I got to my feet. I threw up my arm, as I really had no wish to be trampled by him darting across the corral after that narrow escape and he came to a halt, head down, blowing, then off he went again. He bucked past me, banging up against the fence and finally stood blowing and snorting, trembling from hoof to ears. Slowly we approached him and managed to get the reins over his ears.

He stood there, trembling and all I could think was 'he thinks he's going to be beaten and he's going to hurt anyone who tries.' That is probably the saddest thing I've ever seen a horse doing. Even a cast horse, or one down with colic isn't quite so shorn of its dignity as one trembling with the anticipation of a beating. *sigh*

My heart cried for him. I stroked his poll softly, slow, easy strokes till his snorting softened and the tenseness eased ever so little. I leaned down and blew in his nostrils and he almost ducked his head, but then sniffed at my scent and the trembling eased a little more. "I still trust you," I told him, stroking the outline of his blaze with my fingers and his ears twitched, head lowering into the caress.

He was still quite spooked, and never really calmed down the rest of the time we were there. D was going to try to mount him but he was still too nervous, trembling and shifting his weight when he tugged on the saddle. He did rest his knee in the stirrup and lean his weight and although that went alright, we're still back to word go, again.

More ponying, more lounging, maybe some driving from the ground, and hopefully a deep snowfall at some point where I can wear him out enough to ride the buck out of him. He's still an eloquent equine, I'm just having a little trouble with the dialect but I'm confident we'll find a common language soon enough.

Eeek! Two for One. A Mikey update.

Just in case the previous post is a little too weird for some :) I'll update you on Mikey and Me.

The other evening after work we ditched the kids and took off for a ride. We've been saddling Mikey here and there over the last while. Although sometimes we don't do anything with him to get him wanting to be saddled. The last time, D got up on him and rode (read nudged him gently into following the rest of us on Jack and Mel (the girls took turns on Jack bareback) till Mikey stopped, waited till I came and led him back and got off) him a bit.

Note, at this point in our assessing of him and reconditioning him back into a usable trustworthy horse any ride that ends with D's feet hitting the ground of his own accord is considered a success.

To be fair to ole Mikey though, he's not offering any indication of being MR.BIG BAD BRONCO HORSE , but his reputation precedes him and we're not inclined to take any chances. He is a big, strong boy and should he decide to launch anyone off his back they're gonna go, so better safe than sorry even though it's unfair to the sweetheart I see in his eyes.

Anyway, back to the other evening. I was up on Mel and D got on Jack. I'd saddled Mikey with an older Eamor we've been lent and put on a bridle over his halter. I'd left the shank lightly looped over the rail while I saddled Mel. Without thinking I mounted Mel, rode up to the rail where Mikey's shank was looped and pulled it off. Really, for all the precautions and carefulness, I instinctively trust him to be a good boy. He came along with no problem (no surprise to me, of course, but D made mention of it) and off down the road we went for a ride. Jack was getting a lesson in how that long grass was tasty and so long as he didn't stop to graze he could snatch a mouthful here and there. Mikey came up on my left side, easy as you please. Mel was a little put out that he had to walk on the road instead of the grass but there you go, Mikey's heftier and sort of shoved him over. This trapped my leg between the two of them.

Never one to waste an opportunity to take a chance :) I rubbed and tickled, nudged and poked my boot into Mikey's side. He didn't even flick an ear. He was just glad to get out of that paddock and go with us for a change I think. The ride down to the next road went without a hitch and we even trotted a bit.

As an aside, I find this a little bit funny as Mel is the boy that pulled me out of the saddle while being ponied off Blaze. Ironic even? But he was good, and Mikey was excellent, staying right in place and giving no indication of MR.BBB at all.

Turning Mel out I saddled Jack and rode him (for the first time... another strange realization as we've had Jack for a while now, and even before that became official we treated him as though he were ours. I guess in all of it, I just left him for the girls to ride. He's a great little horse, a type of which I'm fond and could ride his jog for hours. B was a little annoyed that he'd jogged for me, as she gets trot and trot faster mostly :)) while leading D on Mikey.

Honestly it all went so smoothly that I do sometimes wonder what all the fuss is about. I really think that were I not being such a weiner about mounting horses (still left over anxiety from a while ago... if you ever fall off, get back ON NOW...) I could just throw a leg over and away we'd ride, Mikey and Me, without a problem. He nudges me and gets between me and the horse I'm trying to mount and gives me such looks that say it all. "Quit being such a chicken and let's go, let's go ride for hours like we both want to, find our quiet places within ourselves and let my back be the salve for your soul." (what can I say, he's an eloquent horse at times :))

Stay tuned, he's bound to buck me off eventually :P

Strange....

how there's so many of 'us' and so very few of 'them' and yet, they rule the worlds we walk in, talk in and live in.

I didn't move around as a child. Actually had I not skipped a grade (cruel, unusual punishment that I hope the teachers involved spin in hell for)in elementary school I would have graduated with 7 of the 11 children I began kindergarten with. Not that I fit in terribly well before that happened but that was pretty much the kiss of death as far as my ability to find any peer group acceptance for the next 3-5 years. You know, jr and much of sr high? Definitions were drawn early on. I am a social pariah. People meet me and pretty much ignore me immediately. It's not something I'm seeking sympathy for, or whining about either, for the record, just stating a fact I've come to believe.

I've gone to any number of work related banquets, get togethers, birthday parties, even family reunions, weddings and funerals, pretty much any place where people congregate and sat alone. Time after time. Oh there's usually some kind soul who will attempt to engage me in conversation, but when I notice the tightening around their eyes and body language that screams 'let me go now' I make some excuse and allow them to have done with their good deed.

The odd part is, I believe I'm a gregarious person. I strike up conversations in elevators and standing in line at the store all the time. Pleasant, leave 'em chuckling or smiling conversations, that pass the time but do little more. Fact is, I'm not shy. The other fact is, I don't much like people, in general. Guess it's only fair they don't like me back, much. :)

This doesn't mean I don't have friends. I do. Very good ones, now that I've grown up enough to realize what really makes a friend a good one. Most of them are online. The odd few that aren't, worry about me for all the time I do spend on here.

I'm not whining. I am who I am. Online, when I don't have to 'look' a certain way, 'act' a certain way, 'dress' a certain way I fit in. I shine in fact :). I am a cerebral person. Like many of my online REAL friends, I don't care what people look like (mostly :)) how they eat, or what they wear. I care about what they think and how they articulate that...essence of themselves.

Sure, sometimes I crave human contact, but I don't live alone. I'm not an "untouchable" or afraid of being touched. I did have a touch of agoraphobia at one point but the meds are good (KIDDING!) (well mostly anyways). I work with the public, albeit mostly on the telephone, and I'm not bad at my job. I handle their issues, leave them smiling when I can and hopefully with a good impression of the business I work for. But it's all very superficial.

Maybe that's my problem. I dislike superficial people. I want to know what you REALLY think, not what's considered socially acceptable. When I get to liking someone I probe. I ask questions that socially one does not ask. I make assumptions but not based on just little whims of mine, assumptions based on body language, and syntax and expression. I catch little things like a hesitation before a word or a turning of the body and I interpret them into my assumptions, constantly processing and tossing out malformed assumptions to replace them with new ones. That probably makes people uncomfortable.

Mikey and me.

It's no secret that I'm a sucker for a sob story. It's also no secret that I enjoy working with horses and love the feeling of triumph and success when I turn around a cantankerous type or so called bad horse. How cool when it all comes together.

A couple of years ago, shortly after we started training for C. she brought me a couple of older boys that hadn't yet found homes. They're nice horses, one a very light palamino/grey and the other a copper sorrel. Bullet (the pal) is racy and elegant, would look great under english tack and has attitude out the yinyang. He's able to leap tall fences in a single bound and has a way of tossing his head that would make him ideal for film if he were black.

And then there's Mikey. They called him Big Mike, to differentiate between him and Yellow Mike. He's a rather ordinary sorrel coloring. Attractive head, nice blaze down from his forehead to his nose. No snip and only the hint of a star. Solid. Strong. Not overdone and sleek when he slips into his extended trot.

Willing too. "Try him in a lunge," C. told me. I did. He moved out immediately. Willing and able to understand even my hamhanded signals. I asked him for a lope and the transition was smooth, 2 strides and he was in full gait. Same thing coming back down, no jerking or hesitation... if he were a car he might well be well, maybe not a ferrari maybe a viper. Raw power but controlled. No finesse to it, but only because it's not yet applied.

Yeah, I'm a fan.

C. then told me his story. Yard pet foal to easy break horse, sold as a working horse to a pen checker at a local feed lot who used him well and trained him up right. Then he had the chance to go south and rather than take his horses he boarded them at the lot, for use. Someone either put a wet cinch on him or had a wet wet day and didn't check it. He galled (cinch burn scar of white hair on his belly 4" wide by about 15" long side to side :( ) poor guy was likely mad with pain. And they rode him still. He turned mean, or so they said. Tried to kill off a cowboy or two who were intent on 'fixin' that sombitch' They rode him and rode him and he bucked them off. C. took him back. Rescued him more like. Took him to a local trainer who did well with him. Until the day there was a blow up (seems someone decided they needed past the buggy and honked and honked till there was a wreck) Mikey took a broken stay in the gut. C. again took him back and put him out to pasture. But now... I was his chance, she said.

I looked into his eye. You never really know but I fancy that I can tell when there's meanness there, and I didn't see one tiny bit of it. I fiddled with him and he let me do a lot. I didn't push but I did put my foot in the stirrup and let him feel my weight. He shifted his front legs to square up and stood stock still.

Over time I did little bits with him here and there. Not enough, but each time was successful. No wrecks, no blowups. D. was up on him the 3rd day we started seriously working with him. I blew into his nostrils and he snuffled me back. I told him in a quiet whisper that he had to behave because I couldn't ride him till he was proved safe. I swear he nodded at me. Could be he just liked the jingle of bit too, but I'm sticking with nodding. D. climbed up, both of us watching Mikey's head, me ready to hang off the bridle like an ornament, D. ready to bail out at the slightest sign of trouble. Mikey's a big boy, muscular, heavy but agile. You wouldn't want to take the chance of being tossed by him. I sure wouldn't. Mikey shifted his balance. Squared up his front legs and uncocked his hind leg. He stared at me and I back at him. Slowly I passed up the reins to D. letting Mikey see me do it. "Let him ride you," I murmured and stepped back. Mikey stood still. Up till now when I'd stepped back he'd squared to me and moved with me. A dance of sort, training he received from someone else. A matter of distance and parameters. Stay x distance from me and all will be good. If I move back, move forward till x distance is maintained. I play with it, sometimes and we dance. Stepping back and forth and side to side facing each other. But this time, I had handed off control and Mikey's ears flicked, once, twice then again and he turned his head, feet still firmly planted and snuffled me again. Then D. rode him. A few steps forward and a turn to the left, then another few and a turn to the right. The idea is to keep the horse turning thereby making it harder for them to buck if they are so inclined. It's also a great opportunity to teach or reinforce leg aids and reining.

Here's a short video of Mikey and D after this session. Mikey's wearing no bridle or halter and simply going for a wander around the corral. Mean horse...yeah... dun think so. (NOTE: link is fizzed, I'll fix it soon)

My time being not so easily arranged I didn't get to do much more with him. An opportunity came up for him to be trained as a bulldoggin' horse. C. talked to me, asked me what I thought and I thought it was best for Mikey. A chance to re establish himself as a good horse. I cried after I hung up the phone but knew it was for the best.

Now he's back. The bulldoggin' training didn't happen, so he had a nice holiday on pasture and he's full of green grass. On sunday we were out to the ranch. I wanted a crack at him, and C. had promised me that rather than meating him if the bulldoggin' didn't work out (life is like that here, horses are a commodity and not just pretty animals in the field, they cost money to feed and shoe and vet and must make money one way or the other) she'd give me one more crack at him.

Sometimes when karma is knocking I get a little hard of hearing but this time I heard loud and clear. Mikey was back, grab him my little voice said. I proposed a deal to C. and she agreed. The fix was in. If I could get on him and ride him he was mine. So sunday was the day. He acted up in the slab fence corral. Reminiscent of the feedlot I'm sure. And again when people hung over the fence in the other corral, again, memories of when he was to be 'fixed', I'm betting.

I lunged him and he got it together. The intelligence was back, evident in every motion of his head as he missed nothing. Tacked and looking good, a little hunched looking cause of the extra weight he's packing, we led him out. D. fiddled with him a bit then gave me that look. I stepped to Mikey's head and talked to him, snuffling and chatting, stroking his nose and focusing him on me. Slowly D. got into the saddle, settling in to an ear flick and the familiar shift of balance, squaring up his front end. I breathed again and relaxed. D. sat still and I stepped back, asking Mikey to step up. 1 stride 2...whoa I said and he did. D. still silent and still in the saddle, only providing the weight while I 'rode' Mikey from the ground using only my voice.

D. climbed off and I'm sure C. breathed a sigh of relief. While we stood around and spoke D. climbed up again and off and all was okay. After a time C. headed up to the house and D. took Mikey (I thought) to the barn to untack. "Hurry up or we'll get caught," his voice came around the corner of the barn. "Say what now?" I asked walking around the corner. D. had walked Mikey into what we use as a mounting block and grinned at me. I stepped up onto the cement platform and slowly put my foot in the stirrup. Letting my weight lean on the saddle I stepped down again. Then into the stirrup again and swung my leg on his rump, sliding it, and still he stood, stock still, patient and uncomplaining. Many horses fidget in that spot. It's tight and they are impatient, ready to go, eager to be off. Not Mikey, he was willing to wait. Finally I was sure, I'd watched his ears and was willing to bet the farm. I swung up, settling into the saddle without even the teeniest of flutters in my stomach at mounting a horse known to be unpredictable. I was so focused on not scaring him I forgot all about my own fear of mounting a strange horse. I sat there for a triumphant moment then remembered to breath. Slowly I dismounted and once I was back on the cement I let out a whoop and hugged Mikey around the neck. "He's really my horse," I breathed and grinned.

More on Mikey as his and my journey continues. Stay tuned.