Yesterday I was pretty smug about getting Obama to relax on bridges, but as you would expect it has all gone pear shaped today. I can't get him across bridges. I can get him onto bridges, but when he reaches the middle he looks down on the thundering lorries and herds of Harleys and stands there, clearly saying "this is an incredibly high stress situation for a delicate little pony, and I need shed loads of carrots or a good ten minutes scratching before I will move".
This makes journeys over bridges just as problematic, but for the opposite reason.
However he behaved like a total star when a white van nearly took us out on a narrow road. Guy was just going to fast to stop and slid past us, Johnny Cash blaring, and managed to avoid the van which had stopped coming the other way.
But we still had the total terror performance on at least three occasions for absolutely no visible reason, and I just led him past till he decided either that the terrifying thing had gone, or that the game was boring.
We did manage to perfect team blackberrying. With enough blackberries, Obama can take out all the ones at his head level, and there are plenty for me at my level. Of course once Obama's blackberries run out, he speeds up, normally when my hand is in the wrong place for a move forwards. Oh well, nothing is perfect.
Sunday 28 August 2011
Saturday 27 August 2011
Training
I took Obama out for that fine Bank Holiday tradition, sitting in traffic in the rain,but the weather held off, and between Shillingford and Exeter the traffic was pretty cool, so we just buzzed down the flood relief channel to the river and Obama practiced bolting.
Everything was scary, sheep, sheep droppings, sheep footprints, lack of sheep footprints and so on ad infinitum.
We blatted around the area between the Quay and the Double Locks, either flat out with Obama waving his feet in my face, or sidling terrified towards some totally mythical threat. I am fitting the kicking strap before I drive again because high speed kicking hammering cross country through trees is distracting to say the least. Heading back home took forever, mostly with me leading an apparently terrified pony, who could only relax when his teeth were firmly anchored in a dandelion.
I could have brained him as a bad mannered, awkward, bloody minded so and so except for one factor. He went over the bridge over the A30 like an angel on the way out, and like an angel on the way home. His fear of bridges, ie bridges going over main roads, is entirely my fault. I took him over the very narrow curly footbridge over the A30 from Ide to Exeter with heavy traffic thundering under him at 70, and he has never forgiven me, or not till today. So he went through the foot bridge on the flood relief channel absolutely panicking at some really good new graffiti, but strolls over the A30 stopping to itch his backside halfway across.
He hasn't been out since we got back from Sussex on Tuesday, I don't know if he needed a rest, but I certainly did, so his performance was mostly about wanting to go out and fool around. But he has got over one of his major fears and I don't seem to have done anything except take him out and let him fool around. Some would say I never do much else, but working with the disabled, I expect, and get, reasonable behaviour from Obama.
His sympathy with learning difficulties isn't anything I taught him. His perfect behaviour when Isobel leads him, is I am sure, done to show me that he will behave perfectly for seven year olds, it is only idiots like me who can't handle him.
So I end a day with an absolutely brilliant result, but not one I was aiming for, or one that I did anything about. I feel the lessons from Dr Irene Pepperberg's parrot, Alex, are more relevant to horsemanship than we realise. And the main lesson is that they learn from us, all the time, except when we become unintelligible, because we are trying to teach.
Everything was scary, sheep, sheep droppings, sheep footprints, lack of sheep footprints and so on ad infinitum.
We blatted around the area between the Quay and the Double Locks, either flat out with Obama waving his feet in my face, or sidling terrified towards some totally mythical threat. I am fitting the kicking strap before I drive again because high speed kicking hammering cross country through trees is distracting to say the least. Heading back home took forever, mostly with me leading an apparently terrified pony, who could only relax when his teeth were firmly anchored in a dandelion.
I could have brained him as a bad mannered, awkward, bloody minded so and so except for one factor. He went over the bridge over the A30 like an angel on the way out, and like an angel on the way home. His fear of bridges, ie bridges going over main roads, is entirely my fault. I took him over the very narrow curly footbridge over the A30 from Ide to Exeter with heavy traffic thundering under him at 70, and he has never forgiven me, or not till today. So he went through the foot bridge on the flood relief channel absolutely panicking at some really good new graffiti, but strolls over the A30 stopping to itch his backside halfway across.
He hasn't been out since we got back from Sussex on Tuesday, I don't know if he needed a rest, but I certainly did, so his performance was mostly about wanting to go out and fool around. But he has got over one of his major fears and I don't seem to have done anything except take him out and let him fool around. Some would say I never do much else, but working with the disabled, I expect, and get, reasonable behaviour from Obama.
His sympathy with learning difficulties isn't anything I taught him. His perfect behaviour when Isobel leads him, is I am sure, done to show me that he will behave perfectly for seven year olds, it is only idiots like me who can't handle him.
So I end a day with an absolutely brilliant result, but not one I was aiming for, or one that I did anything about. I feel the lessons from Dr Irene Pepperberg's parrot, Alex, are more relevant to horsemanship than we realise. And the main lesson is that they learn from us, all the time, except when we become unintelligible, because we are trying to teach.
Thursday 25 August 2011
Meat eating horses.
CuChullaine O'Reilly is not the sort of guy you want to be behind at airline check ins. A good Irish name, so he should trip the IRA button, worked with the Mujahadeen in Afghanistan (but long before Bush's crusade) and a passport with more stamps than Stanley Gibbons, so you just know they are going to work him over. And now he has upset a whole new group. Yes the militant wing of the Pony Club have put out a contract on him, and loads more will follow.
His crime, telling the truth about horses.
Deadly Equines is his latest book, sensational, controversial and I disagree with large chunks of it, but that is rather like discussing bears' sylvan bathroom habits. Any book worth writing will get me to disagree with large chunks, and while my writing is a model of quiet reason everyone else's is sensational etc. The alternative is far worse, boring.
About every twenty pages I was overcome with the urge to contact CuChullaine to tell him he was talking out of his backside, massaging the data, drawing the wrong conclusions etc, but I kept going back to the text and found that I had read right through without sending a single snotty email to tell him where he was wrong.
I am now working on a long and complicated article to tell CuChullaine why I think he is right and to suggest various different directions in which he might wish to pursue his research. What surprised me, given the depth and range of his research, was missing the comment on the killer pony in the mines from George Orwell's "Road to Wigan Pier."
If you want to find out what I am talking about, now and in my next few posts, reading Deadly Equines is an absolute necessity.
It ranks with Rebecca Cassidy's Horse People and Temple Grandin's "Animals in Translation" as it forces you to rethink whole chunks of your equestrian experience.
CuChullaine, I still disagree with loads of it, but trying to work out why I disagree, exposes my beliefs to evidence that goes the wrong way. The argument will continue, for which I can only say, Thanks.
His crime, telling the truth about horses.
Deadly Equines is his latest book, sensational, controversial and I disagree with large chunks of it, but that is rather like discussing bears' sylvan bathroom habits. Any book worth writing will get me to disagree with large chunks, and while my writing is a model of quiet reason everyone else's is sensational etc. The alternative is far worse, boring.
About every twenty pages I was overcome with the urge to contact CuChullaine to tell him he was talking out of his backside, massaging the data, drawing the wrong conclusions etc, but I kept going back to the text and found that I had read right through without sending a single snotty email to tell him where he was wrong.
I am now working on a long and complicated article to tell CuChullaine why I think he is right and to suggest various different directions in which he might wish to pursue his research. What surprised me, given the depth and range of his research, was missing the comment on the killer pony in the mines from George Orwell's "Road to Wigan Pier."
If you want to find out what I am talking about, now and in my next few posts, reading Deadly Equines is an absolute necessity.
It ranks with Rebecca Cassidy's Horse People and Temple Grandin's "Animals in Translation" as it forces you to rethink whole chunks of your equestrian experience.
CuChullaine, I still disagree with loads of it, but trying to work out why I disagree, exposes my beliefs to evidence that goes the wrong way. The argument will continue, for which I can only say, Thanks.
Sunday 7 August 2011
Fear and riding in South Devon.
It lacks the zing of Hunter S's brilliant book, but I needed a working title so there it is. I was driving south of Exeter, up Haldon Hill and past the Belvedere, just to keep Obama fit and I met a couple of leading rein ponies. The young and nervous riders were 5 or 6 at a guess, and had little obvious control over their mounts, which is par for the course.
When one of the ponies squealed and reared a couple of inches (I was watching his feet so I know) the rider burst into tears. But what amazed me was the adult leading the pony saying, "Don't be scared. The pony can sense fear."
Why not say, "Don't be five years old and a novice." You would have the same chance of being obeyed, and you would have identified the reason for the fear. Can you think of any circumstance when being told not to be scared will make you less scared. No, I can't either.
But to add to the problem, the scared child is then told that the pony will sense her fear. Will that make her any less scared. If you are facing an enormous bouncer, and you are told that being scared of him will make him attack, just how relaxed will you be.
It is demonstrably true that the pony can sense fear. But what does a pony do when it's leader is scared. Treat him with contempt, kick him, run away from him. Let's take the obvious analogy, herd leader (choose whether male or female according to which book you read last) sees a lion stalking towards the herd looking ravenously hungry. If the herd leader isn't scared he will carry on grazing and some of the herd are going to be lunch.
If he/she is scared, the smell of scared herd leader, and the sight of scared herd leader and the sound of scared herd leader will tell the herd that there is a threat around. They will then look to the herd leader to get some idea of what to do. Maybe the obvious area to flee is into a box canyon, so the herd leader, while looking, smelling and sounding scared, will lead the herd towards the threat so they can escape off to the side to real safety.
A herd leader that is never scared is going to be somebody's lunch pretty soon. Fear is the norm if you are a prey species. So when you are riding, and a lion approaches, is your horse going to respect you because you remain calm and unafraid? No, he is going to think you are a brain dead prat who deserves to die, and will wonder why he has to risk his neck hauling your useless carcase out of danger.
Courage is respected by the army, and I have massive respect for those who risk, and frequently lose their lives, fighting for us. But I am sure Obama would be able to detect fear in the guys walking towards an IED, or patrolling or just sitting waiting for incoming mortar rounds. He wouldn't lose respect for them and nor do I. I respect courage, which is the ability to take the right decision while scared.
Not being scared when there is a clear and obvious risk, like sitting on a pony over which you have no control, is a sign that you are stupid. Somebody telling you not to be scared is rather more stupid.
The obvious requirement for a pony with a small, inexperienced, and almost by definition, nervous child on its back, is that it should be with people it trusts, and in places where it feels safe. Then the fear from the child will be treated as the natural behaviour of someone who doesn't know the area. But if the pony doesn't know and trust the people, and the area, then you have an accident waiting to happen and the adults concerned are stupid, and what is worst, trying to make the child feel that it is the child's fault that everything is not going smoothly.
Basically telling a child not to be scared because the pony will sense his fear, is stupid on about three different levels and the best known way to put children off riding. But telling people not to be stupid is nearly as pointless as telling them not to be scared.
When one of the ponies squealed and reared a couple of inches (I was watching his feet so I know) the rider burst into tears. But what amazed me was the adult leading the pony saying, "Don't be scared. The pony can sense fear."
Why not say, "Don't be five years old and a novice." You would have the same chance of being obeyed, and you would have identified the reason for the fear. Can you think of any circumstance when being told not to be scared will make you less scared. No, I can't either.
But to add to the problem, the scared child is then told that the pony will sense her fear. Will that make her any less scared. If you are facing an enormous bouncer, and you are told that being scared of him will make him attack, just how relaxed will you be.
It is demonstrably true that the pony can sense fear. But what does a pony do when it's leader is scared. Treat him with contempt, kick him, run away from him. Let's take the obvious analogy, herd leader (choose whether male or female according to which book you read last) sees a lion stalking towards the herd looking ravenously hungry. If the herd leader isn't scared he will carry on grazing and some of the herd are going to be lunch.
If he/she is scared, the smell of scared herd leader, and the sight of scared herd leader and the sound of scared herd leader will tell the herd that there is a threat around. They will then look to the herd leader to get some idea of what to do. Maybe the obvious area to flee is into a box canyon, so the herd leader, while looking, smelling and sounding scared, will lead the herd towards the threat so they can escape off to the side to real safety.
A herd leader that is never scared is going to be somebody's lunch pretty soon. Fear is the norm if you are a prey species. So when you are riding, and a lion approaches, is your horse going to respect you because you remain calm and unafraid? No, he is going to think you are a brain dead prat who deserves to die, and will wonder why he has to risk his neck hauling your useless carcase out of danger.
Courage is respected by the army, and I have massive respect for those who risk, and frequently lose their lives, fighting for us. But I am sure Obama would be able to detect fear in the guys walking towards an IED, or patrolling or just sitting waiting for incoming mortar rounds. He wouldn't lose respect for them and nor do I. I respect courage, which is the ability to take the right decision while scared.
Not being scared when there is a clear and obvious risk, like sitting on a pony over which you have no control, is a sign that you are stupid. Somebody telling you not to be scared is rather more stupid.
The obvious requirement for a pony with a small, inexperienced, and almost by definition, nervous child on its back, is that it should be with people it trusts, and in places where it feels safe. Then the fear from the child will be treated as the natural behaviour of someone who doesn't know the area. But if the pony doesn't know and trust the people, and the area, then you have an accident waiting to happen and the adults concerned are stupid, and what is worst, trying to make the child feel that it is the child's fault that everything is not going smoothly.
Basically telling a child not to be scared because the pony will sense his fear, is stupid on about three different levels and the best known way to put children off riding. But telling people not to be stupid is nearly as pointless as telling them not to be scared.
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