Anna Blake's Blog, page 16

Calming Signals: Thoughts About Spooking at Nothing

There are two kinds of spooking. This is the first: It was midmorning on the ranch, and we were riding out. My friend was on the best trail horse in the world, and they were helping me and my young gelding gain confidence. We usually walked through an especially beautiful ravine where the plant growth was stirrup high because it seemed Annie, that good trail mare, could call the butterflies in. One day it happened. A wild turkey fell out of a tree. Maybe it tried to fly, or maybe the bird had an unplanned dismount, but it landed on Annie’s head and turkeys have a decent wingspan. It flapped hard enough for a contagious response from all of us. Humans had no unplanned dismounts that day, but there was some dancing about, and to be honest, it was more alarming to me than to my horse. What a ruckus! The next time out, I noticed myself looking up more often for fear of an attack by air. I developed Chicken Little paranoia. Remember, it is not paranoia if someone is really after you.

The incident stuck in my mind all these years since because that was when it dawned on me that for all our practice with inclines and obstacles, I didn’t know how to train for the possibility of flapping things falling out of the sky onto my horse. We’d worked through plastic bags and mud puddles, but how do you prepare for a legitimate spook; random chaos that is both concrete and real, yet totally unpredictable?

The second kind of spooking can be equally energetic, but it seems there is nothing there or it’s something your horse seen a thousand times. Another young horse of mine back in the day would spook at dressage letters, in our home arena. They’d always been there but just like when Sesame Street would pick a letter for an episode, my horse randomly picked a letter and spooked at it for a week until another letter caught his eye. It was strangely consistent yet never with a visible reason. What is that about? How can I train for the fresh hell of our ordinary surroundings?

Just because there is no visible turkey, it doesn’t mean nothing is nothing going on. A spook can be a cumulative result of layered stresses. Possible issues could be physical like ulcers, bad saddle fit, body soreness, and ovarian cysts in mares. Spooking in a horse who usually doesn’t could even be early symptoms of an upcoming health challenge.

Then there are big-picture stressors like being bullied in the herd, extreme weather changes, living isolated in a stall, or struggling with exhaustion. Being a new horse or having had a recent move is stressful. As horses age, there are joint changes, arthritis, and hoof issues, as well as the knowledge as they get more frail, that they feel more vulnerable. Think of things like this as contributing factors to a stack of reasons a horse might lose confidence.

Perhaps the most notable stressor is harsh or fear-based training, the poor use of spurs or whips, and accelerating cues create stress. If the goal is to control the horse so much that the horse shuts down, be aware it won’t work forever.

Some of us appear to ride with horse-crazy bravado, making jokes about our horse killing us. We like the adrenaline rush. There is still an involuntary response in our nervous system. We might feel bold but our nervous system is on high alert. Others become defensive, but thinking we can control unknown chaos only makes us ride like coyotes, with tense hands and shallow breathing we let the horse know he has another big reason to be nervous. We say horses read our fear but it’s more fair to say they carry these erratic emotions on top of their own prey senses. 

None of these reasons are actual monsters hiding in the arena corner or behind a tree, but they exist and add up until the horse, trying to be stoic and get along, just can’t hold it together any longer. In other words, it might not be an easily identifiable overbearing issue, but rather avoiding the anxiety, belittling what the horse is trying to communicate, lean in and be curious about ways to help your horse rather than push him farther away. 

Could we change our thoughts about spooking? Instead of accusing the environment, consider if there could be a good side to spooking. I notice lots of times, a small spook seems to immediately improve the ride; that it releases emotion and steadies a horse. A spook might be almost like a sneeze, a full-body calming signal, like a neck stretch or poll release with a bit more energy. A spook might be a valuable message we miss if we’re busy looking for the cause in the branches of a tree. 

We can’t train a defense for either kind of spook. There will always be a surprise wild turkey equivalency, real or internalized, and horses will always believe every moment is a life-and-death situation. Spooking is a natural flight response; it’s survival. What we can train is our reaction. We can teach ourselves to feel when our horses are getting near a threshold and rather than flinch, praise them to build confidence. It’s counterintuitive for a predator to face fear with a smile, but horses need our help to change the dynamic.

 We must learn to not spook at our horse’s spooks, and instead of punishing them and searching for the external source, check our internal situation. Did we clamp our legs or inhale and soften? Both are cues. Horses are internally hardwired to spook, but we aren’t horses, we can breathe ourselves down, and in that moment, cue our horses to do the same. They need the reminder as much as we do. 

Start here:

Monitor yourself for tension before addressing it in your horse.
Breathe, cue quietly and consistently. Ask for simple transitions.
Use obstacles (even dressage letters) to train affirmatively, giving your horse time to process.
Experiment with ways to engage his mind, curiosity becomes courage.
Practice Leading from Behind, and let your horse gain the confidence to take you for a walk.
If you feel tension growing, offer your horse calming signals to soothe himself. Exhale, let him look away, stretch, graze a moment.
Stay engaged, give your horse something affirmative to think about, and praise his efforts when shadows rise. Stay affirmative when you both need it most.
Value building peace more than obedience. A relaxed horse is more likely to stay sound and are safer to ride.
Most of all, with a trusting rider, a calm confident horse spooks less often. 

The truth is there is a reason horses spook every time. Sometimes we blame the turkey, but the invisible reasons might matter the most. Fighting a horse’s fear response makes it grow, but by releasing nagging stress we’re creating safety for our horses. In this light, spooking might be something to make friends with.

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

 
Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Calming Signals: Thoughts About Spooking at Nothing appeared first on Anna Blake.

Reverse Anthropormophism: Building A Better Relationship

Do you ever go to the barn and pretend to be a cowboy? You’d wear the shirt that matched your saddle pad and put on a Hell Hat. You’d take a deep seat and a faraway look, you’d make out over the land for the herd, whether you have one or not. Horses can like a stoic rider; not so much moony-eyed grooming and more ground-covering action.

Maybe you pretend or an Olympic rider? You’d wear britches, a stock tie if it’s a show day, and always a helmet. You’d sit tall, quelling the noise of the crowd, and move forward confidently to the task ahead, feeling lucky to ride. Horses read our intention, we know they sense fear, but also confidence. They appreciate our consistency and focus. If all it took was the right outfit and striking a pose, anyone could ride. 

But it isn’t that simple and it takes no skill to recognize a dominating rider on a stressed-out horse. It’s more difficult to see what the best riders do to create that sweet connection that makes it all seem like a dance of equals, whether moving cattle, clearing an oxer, or negotiating the horse trailer. 

Isn’t that the thing most visible in the ride, either painful domination or peaceful partnership? And so we think we listen but soon, the rider gives a cue but instead, the horse tells us something about himself, maybe his back is sore. It seems like disobedience, especially if the horse knows the task. Too often, there is only one answer acceptable to us.

When I ask riders what they want to work on, most often they say a better relationship with their horse. It sounds pleasant and positive, but in truth what we want is for the horse to take our cues quickly, do exactly what we want, and look calm in the process. It could be complicated movement under saddle or “simply” standing for the farrier, but we know it should look. Getting the horse on board is another thing. 

Do you ever pretend to be Jane Goodall? Do you remember how she started? In the beginning, she had no special training. She went into the African bush and followed a family group of chimpanzees at a time when scientists generally didn’t study in natural environments. She gave the chimps names instead of numbers, affirming their existence as individuals. Then for the next sixty years, she watched them without correction. She learned their language and came to understand their culture. And she was roundly dismissed by the scientific community early on, accused of anthropomorphizing. She was doing the exact opposite.

“Anthropomorphism is the attribution of human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities. It is considered to be an innate tendency of human psychology.”  ~Wikipedia (an iffy source, but that second part!)

Jane Goodall didn’t see chimps as tiny humans. Instead shifted her perspective to see the chimp species as whole and perfect in their environment. She saw herself in their world rather than bringing them into hers. I’m calling it reverse anthropomorphism.

It sounds deceptively simple but as a human, we naturally hold the “Navel of the Universe” position. Some would say humans are arrogant but horses feel the same way about their perspective. Don’t all species have a survival instinct? We are all equals in this place until someone decides they are superior and all other species should bow down. That’s arrogance (unless it’s a cat and then it’s nothing out of the ordinary.)

It’s the second part of this definition that is important to understand. Putting horses into the human construct, seeing them as loving or lazy or belligerent or distracted is our natural instinct. From a young age, we do the same thing with inanimate objects like dolls and stuffed animals. Adults call dogs furkids and we refer to ourselves as our horse’s moms. Animals are at the center of our lives and it’s fine to make up stories, but for all the challenges that animals face living with us, aren’t we being a bit dismissive? Horses have a rich culture. We won’t understand them by seeing them as a combination of human traits. 

Even more challenging, we only have our language and experience to describe what we see in other species. It’s anthropomorphic by default, so we must stay doubly cognizant that behaviors that we recognize as similar to ours aren’t necessarily the same experience for another species.

In the important study of calming signals, there is a bittersweet initial disappointment in learning that what we saw as harmless play were messages of anxiety or pain. At the same time, we have to be careful to not take one instance out of context and then draw conclusions from that. Humans love to draw conclusions because it lets us feel superior to use human reason. And that’s the moment we lose connection with animals.

Now most researchers believe studies on horses must be done in the wild (thanks, Jane) to know what their genuine baseline normal behavior is. That a horse in captivity has had to acclimate to an unnatural life, and as such, will give unnatural results. 

Horse owners know that, and of course we all want five thousand acres. We do the best we can, feel guilty, and then do a little more. It’s an imperfect world but our passion drives us. We’re working to find balance. 

Here is an example of misunderstanding: We are aware of the danger around horses, and that we might be hurt in an accident. We expect horses to fear death as much as we do but they don’t think in the future. They don’t know the difference between spring shots and a syringe for euthanizing, other than our anxiety at the time. Horses have an overwhelming instinct to survive but that isn’t the same thing as fearing death. 

Conversely, horses believe they are prey and must remain constantly aware of the environment.  Everything they perceive is a question of life or death, their survival dependent on constantly scanning the environment for trouble. But we have the ability to focus on one small detail and block the rest out, so it seems horses are distracted when they’re literally hyper-focused.

I confess that I constantly pretend to be Jane Goodall, minimizing my human inclinations and trying to truly see the world through equine eyes. To love them enough to let it be less about me and more about their true nature. It’s brought their calming signals to the forefront of training. To see horses more from a standpoint of behavioral research, rather than labeling them by our worst, or best, human traits, helps me resolve training issues. It’s more than paying attention; it’s radical listening. I changed sides, I’m on their team now.

Try this: For the next hour, notice everything in your environment. Use each of your senses, take notes, “be horse” and feel honest prey anxiety. Can you hold that kind of focus? Are you exhausted from trying? Notice how many potential threats to survival you dismiss as mere background noise.

To improve a relationship with a horse, we must maturely and selflessly be on their side. We must be an oasis of yes. 

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward, now scheduling 2022 clinics and barn visits. Information here.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, interactive sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and join the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Reverse Anthropormophism: Building A Better Relationship appeared first on Anna Blake.

Calming Signals: What Normal Looks Like

Do you ever think about what horses give up in living with us? Humans have a way of always seeing ourselves as the solution, resting confidently in the knowledge that we are their saviors. We have a bank account to prove it. We talk about what they do for us, but rarely consider the cost to them. The courage needed for them to live in our world.

This photo is the big herd at Duchess Sanctuary. I had the extreme privilege of visiting them earlier this year in Oregon. The mares are all originally from the PMU industry in Canada where the pregnant mares stood in stalls with a contraption strapped between their hind legs to collect their urine for the drug Premarin. The industry is closed because the drug ruled unsafe, and these mares and thousands of others bred for this industry were out of work.

Does it sound barbaric? It’s no different than those horses who waited in fire stations for the emergency gallop to fires, those who moved logs to sawmills to build our cities, or those “pleasure horses” who stand in stalls today, spending their lives being our hobby. Relationships are always an exchange of goods and services. That’s what a friend of mine who is a pastor says. I used to fight the notion when I was a young romantic. I see the sense in that now.

Horses and humans have always had a complicated relationship. We love them, we use them. They hurt us physically, and we damage them with poor training and handling. They are a constant reminder of beauty and freedom, of sensitivity and intelligence that is elusive to us; they draw us to them in awe and wonder. And then we make them over to our specifications, controlling their environment, social interactions, and even their eating schedules. We anthropomorphize them into whatever story we want to tell, often ignoring their emotions while dumbing them down to something we understand. We are their guardians. We are their predators.

For their part, horses do volunteer. They are curious about us; they allow themselves to be trained. They have an involuntary instinct to survive; they care about safety. They fear our erratic habits but need the food we provide. We bend close to kiss them and in the next moment, flap arms to get them out of “our” space. We give conflicting signals. Want another example? Horses feel safety in a herd but we ask them to leave and then see their separation anxiety is a training issue. Or when horses stand with their eyes closed and we are certain they are at peace with us, but aren’t closed or partly closed eyes are a calming signal that the horse is pulling inside, evading us by withdrawing?

Our lives with horses can never be unscrambled. Scrolling through the Facebook feed, it’s all right there. Mustangs run over land the cattlemen want for grazing cows. Beloved horses being ridden well. Ranch horses abandoned to starvation and abuse. Humans threatening horses, humans encouraging them. Horses teased for a funny picture.

Back to the Duchess Sanctuary, an upside-down world where horses live the most natural life possible with no work or love required, and free of fussy humans with savior complexes. In sanctuary, horses owe us nothing, not even companionship.

Jennifer and I entered the upper pasture, a vast meadow with groups of mares standing in the shade of trees. Over a hundred and fifty of them scattered, their massive bodies at rest, their tails shooing flies off each other. One mare was apart from the group and down, and as we drew closer, she stayed down. Not normal. The other mares were watching us now, not frightened but also not pandering to us. Their autonomy was regal and glorious. Jen walked an arc one direction, as I stepped the other way for a better angle, knowing better than to think both of us walking quickly up would be helpful.

Just then, a black mare left the shade and walked directly to the prone mare and then turned to face me. I halted. She walked ten yards toward me but instead of sniffing me, she positioned her belly against mine, her body obliterating my view of the ailing mare and Jennifer. Silently, two other mares joined the black mare, stepping up behind me to form a triangle around me, bending their ribcages close enough that I could almost feel each of them with my body. No greeting, they weren’t curious about me. Not friendly and not emotional. They were massive and immobile, and I was contained. My breath stayed intentionally slow and deep as I kept my hands by my side. I did not take a selfie.

A moment later, the mares dissolved back into the herd. I joined Jennifer with their permission. It looked like colic so after a slow polite haltering process, the mare very reluctantly allowed us to lead her to the gate where a sanctuary assistant had pulled a trailer to carry the sick mare to the barn for treatment. There were moments when I wondered if the herd would let her go with us. It ended up being a mild colic, resolved in a few hours, and soon the big girl was returned, healthy and whole, to her herd. She didn’t say thank you and we didn’t expect it.

Horses need us to survive in our world and how arrogant we are to think the life we give horses is necessarily an improvement. We offer horses love, as we claim theirs, but the more I watch and learn, the more I think horses have something better. After all, we fail each other as often as we fail horses. Our culture is nothing to brag about, but remembering those mares, I wonder if horses have had it right all along. It was never about domination, but rather a cooperation.

There is a word in the Maori language that I think might define what horses experience in herds. It isn’t as selfish as individual love but rather lifts the ideal of community welfare:

whanaungatanga – Māori Dictionary (fa-nan-ga-tunga) 1. (noun) relationship, kinship, sense of family connection – a relationship through shared experiences and working together which provides people with a sense of belonging. It develops as a result of kinship rights and obligations, which also serve to strengthen each member of the kin group.

When working with your horse, listening to them in this unnatural world we share, the most important calming signal to learn is their baseline, their resting face. This is it, a herd grazing, breathing together, looking out for each other. This is their normal, beyond the screaming hustling inpatient world with humans. This is their understated natural home, even if they live in cities. If we want to connect with a horse in their language and on their terms, we have to be willing to let go of the things that create noise in our world and in our hearts. It’s an idea as revolutionary as a sanctuary.

We have to let normal be enough.

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward, now scheduling 2022 clinics and barn visits. Information here.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, interactive sharing, audio blogs, live chats with Anna, and join the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Calming Signals: What Normal Looks Like appeared first on Anna Blake.

Are You Having a Midlife Horse Crisis?

I got an email from a reader last week. She had a hard question. She acknowledges she was naive, but she adopted an Off-the-track Thoroughbred. He was a bit complicated, as I remember him, but she’s done an excellent job. He’s a solid citizen in the barn and on the ground. He’s been to professional trainers for a few years, but at 53, she knows he’s just too much for her to ride. I congratulated her honesty and didn’t think of talking her out of it. The problem is that he’s eight and she struggles with the idea that he is too young to retire for no other reason than being not the right riding horse for her. The family loves him, but is she being unfair? And by the way, she has three horses: her Appaloosa who was a perfect riding horse has retired due to EPM and there is a companion pony who is older than originally stated.

I wish this were an uncommon situation. Without a smile, I ponder the familiar question, “How many horses do you have to own to have one to ride?”

I heard about a group of seventy-something women who ride together. Who doesn’t want that? They probably get written up in the local paper. Do we confess a bit of envy? We would all choose it if all it took was passion and arduous work, things we are used to. Am I the only one who wants to congratulate them on their wild luck? It is luck if you’re seventy-something and riding, you have beaten the odds, and good for you! Sure, Queen Elizabeth is riding at ninety-six, but let’s be honest. She has staff. 

Especially bless their luck at having older horses sound enough to ride, ones that they have most likely been riding a decade or so already. Cheers for old campaigners, sane and mostly predictable. How fortunate to have a horse to grow old riding with. How many of those lucky riders have made the decision that this will be their last horse?

We want to think we’ll ride into our dotage but it isn’t always a choice we have. Life happens, and to get to that age without fear overtaking us or having a chronic physically-limiting condition, or without the support of a group of supportive friends, continuing to ride is almost a miracle. If we do make it, there’s a huge challenge when we have to make the change to a younger horse who is strange to us, assuming we could find one. Changing horses is always tough, and it seems the older we get, the harder it is to find the right horses. How many of us (of any age) purchased the wrong horse and don’t want to send it off to an uncertain future?

No one wants to talk about money, but around this time we age out of our highest income years while prices on all things horse-related continue to go up every year. Basic care costs soar. Some of us move because the climate is hampering our riding. We might begin to board our horse when we are down to a singleton, or we might move our horses to our own property thinking it will be cheaper. Nothing about horses gets cheaper.

How many of us fell for a kill pen scam because our hearts are filled with good intentions? Maybe our horses didn’t die in chronological order, according to our plan. Now the youngster is gone and the elder is, well, too old. We keep injury survivors and horses with chronic conditions who need a safe place. How many of us want a riding horse but instead take impeccable care of a small herd of unrideable horses? Shouldn’t there be an award for that? 

Let the seventy-somethings take another arthritic victory lap while the rest of us, those who fell short through no fault of their own, cheer them on, bearing no grudge, but feeling a bit unlucky, even as we cheer louder. Some of us truly never wanted to ride and yay for them. Some of us say we don’t but keep a secret. Some of us are painfully honest. We planned to ride until we have a peaceful death on the exact same day as our horse. We wanted it when we were thirty and nothing has changed.

The future gets a bit more uncertain every year. Are you over 50 and under 96? Let’s call it an awkward age. Others having a midlife crisis might buy a hot red convertible or start an affair with someone younger. We have never been like others because we have horses. Some are lucky and still riding like the Queen, but the exception proves the rule. To beat the odds, others have to be the odds.

So, now what? We stare our vulnerabilities (and our horse’s frailty) squarely in the eye and look for opportunity. My email box is as full of health reports, unhappy decisions, and unforeseen outcomes. And we know we should be grateful but we still want more. Are we doing a good enough job fighting the inescapable forces of life?

I warn you, it’s a lousy list and I don’t think it will help, but since you asked, here is my advice: 

Sell all your horses. Unrideable horses aren’t in demand, so lie about them. 
Buy a new horse.
Sell any new horse that doesn’t work out in the first week.
Buy other new horses. 
Sell those horses down the road when they don’t work out either.  
WAKE UP!  You’re dreaming a horrible nightmare.
Remember that horses need homes more than saddles.
Notice that for all your angst, you didn’t change your will, still leaving it all for the care of any surviving unrideable horses.
Recognize your own particular version of wild luck. 
Go out and muck. Adjust the fly mask and clean some hooves.
Smell the bittersweet elixir of the mane of an unrideable horse and let it be okay.

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward. Scheduling clinics for the fall in the Midwest and Eastern states.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

 
Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Are You Having a Midlife Horse Crisis? appeared first on Anna Blake.

Horses Are Like Bad Boyfriends (Or Why the Wrong Answer Might Be Better)

Horses are like bad boyfriends because they only want to talk about themselves.

Wait, let me explain. First of all, it isn’t a pejorative term. I’ve had enough bad boyfriends to know that I prefer them, for many of the same reasons I like bad dogs.

Sure, we have to give up having “relationship talks” where we “plan the future.” Things always go downhill when we try to make rules or quantify things with a horse. Their feelings take importance over ours. Plans seem made to be broken. It could be touchy when our feelings get in the way, but shouldn’t we value our independence, too? How do two self-reliant spirits come together? Isn’t that the dream of partnership with a horse?

Let’s be honest. Horsewomen can be a little schoolmarm-ish, too stuck in the straight and narrow. Sure, we are famous for sneaking horse blankets into laundromats and showing up in grocery stores with helmet hair. Our horse’s hooves look better than our hands, and we are party poopers who leave early to throw hay. It’s just that when it comes to horses, we can be a little linear. We want what we want, and we want it now. It’s as if we see horses through a narrow spyglass and want one specific answer so badly that we get blinded to the big picture.

Here’s an example: Say we have clearly asked for a thing. The thing might be doing an obstacle or a canter depart or just walking forward, but staying very straight and exactly thirteen inches off the rail. We have asked for a thing but the horse hesitates because he thinks you said, “Where’s North Dakota?” Then he hesitates some more because he’s confused.

If you have a bad boyfriend mare, she thinks you said, “Where’s Minot, North Dakota? I know, but why do you ask? Don’t you know?” and looks at you squinty-eyed. Mare boyfriends can seem tedious if you are the humorless kind. 

We want the thing really hard. We want it and watch like coyotes, but our anxiety goes up a bit with our expectations. Maybe we insist just a bit louder, “Where’s North Dakota?” because they probably didn’t hear us, standing right there. Giving the same cue louder never works. Any reasonable horse doesn’t respond well to threats and we don’t like doing it, so we’re half-hearted and we lose confidence along with the horse.

Maybe we make up a story about their abused past and then give a different cue entirely, a cue for Arizona, hoping if we change direction, we’ll end up in the right place. But it doesn’t work, so we absolutely swell up with wanting the thing. We walk another circle and make another desperate plea for North Dakota, interrupting the horse before he could take any of the various cues we’ve given. We want to have a connection with the horse so badly that we tangle ourselves up in it. 

Meanwhile, the horse is thinking about himself. And that is a good thing. He has emotions that we brag about when they flatter us. When these emotions get in our way, we’re stuck hearing old voices about domination and now it’s our mind making circles on its own. Maybe we have evolved enough to know that the horse is confused because we stacked a few contradictory cues before we knew it. It doesn’t matter how it started, both of us are stuck, the pause is heavy and we sit there trying not to do something else wrong. Egads, was that a double negative? We just wanted the thing.

The horse will make it okay. He’ll talk about himself. He’ll shake his neck, saying “I’m stressed out.” He’ll stretch his neck down although there is nothing to graze, “I’m no threat to you. You don’t have to worry so much.” Followed by a snort saying, “I was throat-breathing that whole time, I was so nervous.” He shifts his weight and releases his tail, “I just needed a minute.”

Sometimes horses have a better answer than the one we’re looking for. Releasing stress is always a better answer. So is going slow. And of course, we remember finally, less is more.

It dawns on us when our horse takes a breath that we should do the same. As the air fills our lungs, we get a little taller. In talking about himself, he’s shown us a path out. The bad boyfriend horse says, “I’ll soothe my own self, and you do you.” There is a novel idea; each partner gets to be their best self and accepts the other instead of trying to fix them.

Then, because the horse only thinks about himself, he asks the eternal question, “Am I safe?” as he licks and chews. And on your exhale, your good horse does the thing effortlessly, fluidly, by choice. In the process, he is more comfortable and you have given him space, albeit almost accidentally, to do it in a way that might be better than you imagined. At that moment, it all shifts because there is something fragile and beautiful we want to be part of. 

We love horses but sometimes wish they were more like Golden Retrievers. Some of us will shut horses down, drilled into answering by rote. Micromanaged into learned helplessness, horses will lose sight of their nature. We forget that we make art with horses. They feel depression which we mistake for obedience. It’s a death spiral that might work for a while, but horses are horses. They don’t live to serve us. It isn’t their job to be perfect. Like a bad boyfriend, it’s their job to be unapologetically themselves, a thing horses truly excel at.

Sometimes we soul-search and worry and sell ourselves short. We second-guess, should we have trusted more to start? We get so busy mentally, that we re-think our overthinking. We interrupt our compulsive excuses to rehash every instant. We take ourselves so seriously that the dull roar wears us down. So, what do we do when our minds can’t stand their own noise?

We take our busy brains to the barn. We have a plan; we want a thing. The horses are grazing and we pause to watch. What if we take that cue, and just for today, let it all go?

One of the horses lifts his head; he is tall, his chest full as he listens to the air and scans the horizon. In the next instant, the others raise their ears and they are off, galloping the field, hooves cutting the ground, spraying light like a dirt halo, their tails flying high. Being who they are, who they will always be.

Horses would like you to know it’s a confidence game, each of you asking and listening, reaching across differences to find parts that fit each other. Without surrender but allowing our sum to be greater than our parts, if just for an instant. And if you want a lap dog, get one. 

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward. Scheduling clinics for the fall in the Midwest and Eastern states now.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

 
Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Horses Are Like Bad Boyfriends (Or Why the Wrong Answer Might Be Better) appeared first on Anna Blake.

Bit Contradictions: A Confused Conversation

“Slower, please.”

“Here we go.”

“Don’t bang…”

“Almost ready.”

“… my teeth.”

[image error]

“Good…”

“Not good.”

“Stand.”

“Let go.”

“Back up.”

“Whoa.”

“Whoa!”

“Ouch.”

“Stand.

“Metal.”

“Walk on, but not too fast.”

“I can’t balance slow.”

“Why so fussy?”

“More rein, please.”

“I need to feel control.”

“I hate feeling controlled.”

“We need a different bit.”

“Not safe.”

“Don’t hold tight.”

“Don’t hurt me.”

“Must move.”

“Not safe.”

“I’m so anxious.”

“Might bolt.”

“Must escape.”

“No air.”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Won’t survive.”

“Must survive.”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the first draft of this essay, I used pronouns crediting the quotes to a horse or a human, but then took them off. Does it even matter who said what? Not when one of the most reactive animals on the planet is sitting on top of one of the most reactive animals on the planet. Both sides are passive-aggressive for as long as possible until the passive part wears thin and the aggressive part steps up.

The horse feels bit pressure on the bars of his jaw just being led to the mounting block. Then the rider blocks the rein while pulling the horse to one side before putting weight in the saddle. The horse’s balance is challenged and he wants to walk to rebalance and get rid of some anxiety. Walking is a calming signal saying the horse is no threat.

The rider corrects the horse, backing by pulling the reins, and the horse feels more anxious and tosses his head. Then the rider shortens the reins and the horse gets tense. The rider loses confidence in the horse, not noticing who caused the problem. The rider thinks they can leverage the horse’s body by controlling the fragile jaw, but soon the rider’s arms are as tense as the horse’s neck. The shorter the reins, the more air is cut off in the horse’s throat. The thing that makes a horse anxious, gives the rider false confidence. The thing about false confidence is that it’s a lie we tell ourselves. Lies are the opposite of trust.

A fussy horse is sending a message that they need a kinder bit and softer hands. Is it disobedience to say something hurts? No bad intent, the most common pain riders cause horses is done thoughtlessly. The most vulnerable volunteer a horse offers a rider is often taken for granted. The thing that riders forget and horses never will? Bits are Metal On Bone.

But the rider is frustrated, perhaps railbirds suggest they get a stronger bit. The new bit that makes a horse appear calm might actually be shutting the horse down. Quiet doesn’t necessarily mean happy. Why would anyone ever think that the thing that caused the problem in the first place, used in a stronger way, would ever possibly be the thing that would resolve the problem? When has more pain ever resolved pain?

A good rule of thumb is if the rider doesn’t think they pull the reins, they simply aren’t aware they pull. The rider who knows they pull when they don’t mean to is learning to be flexible and elastic, the quality we hope for in horses and riders.

Gaining awareness of our hands will always be the greatest challenge for riders. We are primates; we use our hands for everything. It’s against our nature to keep them at rest. The unconscious pulling we do with the lead rope on the ground, transfers unbidden to the saddle where the rider is the most vulnerable. But we rarely notice our shortcomings because riders are looking at their horses for shortcomings.

Even more counter-intuitive, if the horse did bolt, the correct response from the rider is to pull their legs off and extend their hands forward. Consider the chance that a rider might be able to do this amid the chaos the next time someone suggests a horse should be trained to act against his flight response.

So, the rider goes to a bitless bridle. It’s a good first step but many bitless bridles use leverage and pressure that can be as firm as a bit. And harsh hands will still make the horse anxious. However the rider pulls, the horse will still resist but now it’s a new set of contradictions. Now the rider feels vulnerable, even naked, without a bit, but the horse is quieter, maybe stretching their neck and striding out. The rider will need more courage but the horse needs less. In other words, the thing that scares riders, actually makes horses calmer. Is it a different kind of “leadership” if the rider is the one who works harder?

Bit anxiety or hand awareness is a chicken and egg problem. It doesn’t matter what came first or who started it. It boils down to involuntary instinct on both sides. Does this horse and rider conversation seems confusing, contrary to common sense, and totally twisted from what the rider meant? Horses agree, they know our confusion but the horse feels the reality of the threat more than the intent of the rider to be kind.

There is a simple solution. It’s leaving the horse’s mouth out of the conversation. It’s the process used with head-shy horses in rehab. Let the horse’s mouth rest. Let the rider’s hands stay at peace. Use a neck ring. Horses will halt intuitively and riders are often surprised at how quickly their horses respond to the cues from the rider’s legs and seat once the horse’s mouth stops hurting. It occurs to the rider, and they finally understand, that bits are a constant threat to horses.

It’s true riders can’t compete in a neck ring, and yes, there are certain times a rider might think they need a bridle, if only to soothe other riders or a list of rules. Needing it sometimes, or eventually, doesn’t mean a bit must be used constantly.

Start here: can you commit to not picking up the reins for twenty minutes of warm-up every ride? Can the horse have a neck ring, seven feet of cheap rope, for their comfort and confidence? Can the rider use the neck ring to train their own hands? Can we learn to ride body to body instead of hand to mouth?

Here is the most perversely counterintuitive part. The horse shows us a greater level of trust by allowing a bit in his mouth than the trust a rider shows by needing a bit in his horse’s mouth. The horse trusts us more than we trust them. How should a rider value that trust?

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…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward. Scheduling clinics for the fall in the Midwest and Eastern states now.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Bit Contradictions: A Confused Conversation appeared first on Anna Blake.

Is Your Horse Mentally Exhausted?

No other animal is quite like a horse; never fully wild and never quite domesticated. Engaged with us but never ours entirely. Some see horses as simple creatures and others of us hold them as a mystery we will never completely solve and we like it that way.

In 2012,  a group of prestigious scientists including Stephen Hawking signed the Cambridge Declaration of Consciousness. It was a result of a wide range of varied research on mammals of all sorts, peer-reviewed findings, using among other things, special MRI machines massive enough to fit large mammals, like horses, inside. Scientists had proven that animals, including horses, have consciousness. Good, that means they have an awareness that they are alive, but more than that, they found that animals have emotions “not unlike our own.” 

[To clarify, before you install a TV so the herd can watch the World Cup or Yellowstone, it isn’t that horses have the same emotions as us in the same situations. They still don’t have a prefrontal cortex capable of what we refer to as executive functions. “Executive” is an interesting word choice, but it sounds like something a human would come up with.]

Horse people cock a hip and sneer at the announcement. We don’t need scientists to tell us that! We rave about our horse’s emotions, we brag about their sensitivity, we think they love us, that they mourn our absence, that they stand waiting at the gate for us to give their life meaning. It’s human nature to think we are the navel of the universe.

But then we try to train horses out of emotions that are a problem to us. First on the list, they are too sensitive, spooky, stubborn, and opinionated. We want calm, sweet, submissive horses. Sometimes dumbing them down even appears to work. For a while. Kind of like strong women, we like horses until they become inconvenient.

 Maybe training a horse to be withdrawn in fear, or even shut down, would make us feel more comfortable but some of us truly do want a relationship with horses, which is a challenging enough goal with our own species but our passion for these beautiful elusive animals is deep and true. And for no scientific reason I know, horses continue to volunteer, so here we are, forging our way together.

Over centuries, horses have carried us far, but times have changed. Try as we do, it gets harder to create an environment for them to thrive in as cities expand, we try to cope with the prices of feed and the endless list of health concerns. As hay fields give way to housing developments, it isn’t just the expense and logistics that change. Global warming impacts the land and we have to constantly reinvent our management. Everywhere, it’s too hot or too wet, or catastrophic droughts. And on top, we seem to have less time and new ideas are hard to come by, but we have to find ways to support our horse’s healthy expression of who they are in this new world. We don’t use them for work as we once did, we have blurred the line. Are they pets now? Have we given them office jobs, keeping them in cubicles? Pretending we live in the old west isn’t working.

As we mold horses to our contemporary lives, do we also expect their nature to evolve to fit? Knowing they have emotions, are we training in a way that supports their mental health, asks the trainer who spends most of her time working with horses damaged by training?

The true nature of horses is energy, curiosity, and flight but our expectation of training is to change that to them into something tamer and more sedate, and in the process, I wonder if we pressure horses to be different so much that they struggle with confidence more than before. 

Some of us work our horses harder, ignoring their emotions in favor of pushing them physically. We reason that they live shorter lives and it seems to make us hurry them before they are emotionally mature enough to train, as well as dealing with the anxiety we feel wanting good results quickly. The speed our human world spins doesn’t give us much practice at being patient. Can horses tell the difference between physical exhaustion from dull repetitive work and our displaced struggles with our own feelings, perhaps not feeling good enough as we seek acknowledgment for who we are as individuals in a fast food world? Do they come to embody the worst of our insecurities?

Some of us don’t ride often, instead letting our horses live mainly as pasture ornaments, but at the same time, calling them our therapists, being our sounding boards for our emotions while not giving them the space and autonomy to escape the mental constraint. In other words, do horses get compassion fatigue from carrying our emotional burdens for us, as well as managing their own? 

Horse people are tough and capable. We were taught to ride them through difficult things and glorify suffering as if the one who hurts the most wins. We are wracked that we don’t do enough for our horses, that we aren’t good enough. We drink more coffee and try too hard and still come away trying to balance our love with our anxiety. We hold our failures larger and closer than our successes because we are still humans and, thanks to all that executive function, we feel heavy lethargic guilt. Do we notice the impact on our horses?

Asking too much from a horse, mentally or physically, doesn’t make them stronger, it wears them out. Immune systems get weaker, calming signals get louder. Their resilience wears thin and horses feel more pressured than supported.  We resist recognizing it in horses as much as we resist seeing it in ourselves. 

Conversely, being generous every ride means horses are more likely to have reserve effort for when you need it.

We’ve just completed a July-hot four-day clinic at my favorite barn in Wyoming. The organizer shares her herd and I come often enough to know the horses. Participants fly in for a different sort of experience. We have short rides focusing on one thing at a time. We learn to release our personal agendas and noisy desires. We practice the profound strength it takes to do less and notice their emotional experience, sometimes above our own. On each day, with each horse, we try to be the human they need us to be. 

In return for acceptance of their nature and emotions, the horses gave us more than we asked for. Each day, progress was compounded. At the end, the young mare who we all loved for her feisty nature, stood still with soft eyes, positively glowing with pride. It bathed us in joy.

When horses and humans accept and negotiate their individual emotional stumbling blocks instead of fighting about them, there is a release of dread on both sides. In the practice of humans doing less, our horses were able to express more. In giving them more autonomy, we found more within ourselves. And the circle is complete.

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward. Scheduling clinics for the fall in the Midwest and Eastern states now.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

 
Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post Is Your Horse Mentally Exhausted? appeared first on Anna Blake.

There Will Be No Faith Healings Today

 

We’ve all seen it. Someone holding a lead rope and hyper-stimulating a young horse with a stick until he shuts down, et voila, a tame horse. Or someone in spurs climbs on a young horse in a round pen, runs him through the gaits, pulls back to get a stop, and hallelujah, a trained horse. Or someone who lunges a horse at the back of a trailer until the horse, exhausted and in pain, goes into the trailer, because we make the hard thing easy. Easy for who? Well, horses have learned something, but it’s about humans. As if frightening a horse takes a measure of skill. As if punishment created willing partners.

One more thing we’ve all seen. Someone else who pays the full price on a horse, just to “rescue” it from a life of brutality. Only to bring it home, a few thousand dollars later, to find out that rehabbing isn’t as romantic in real life. Only to find that the base of those behaviors is more than bad training and there are pain issues underneath that may or may not be easy to diagnose. Yay, those are my well-intentioned clients. Raise your hand if your ears are burning.

We either overestimate the brutality and the horse comes around quickly, and we get to think we’re geniuses. Or we underestimate the damage done, and things go the speed of dog hair on a fleece jacket and we feel like we’ve failed the horse. The same hands go up.

It isn’t just new horses. Just to make things more nebulous, I’ve known well-trained horses who trailer loaded perfectly until the day they didn’t. Calm horses who stood still for the farrier until they stopped. Good horses who seemed perfect under saddle until they weren’t. A training issue appears where there wasn’t one before, apparently without reason.

We certainly do have a training issue. It’s ours, though. We think training is a logical, quantifiable, and finite experience, as stable as a can of beans in the pantry. This horse was trained to cross water, we reason, so we get the can of Water Crossing down from the shelf and open it up, suitable for any water, any time of day, any season. Then we’re surprised when the horse who will cross a stream on a trail ride, won’t put a hoof in a mudpuddle that has a rainbow of oil slime on the surface after a thunderstorm.

Maybe the horse is head shy. We know better than to flood the horse with torment, so instead, we try the opposite. We relentlessly fuss with the horse’s head passively. Not that this approach has ever worked for flies either, but still we fuss, in hopes of making the horse less fussy. Sometimes we lose patience and push, we reason that we have a reason for our inconsistency, but then we’re practically back to square one. We’re frustrated as if losing the progress we’d made was something we owned on a shelf.

We cart out all of our human logic and sort through it to understand the horse’s problem. But that’s the problem; horses don’t live and act with human logic. We know this because we have all tried training approaches that make profound sense to humans but totally fail horses. That is the other half of the equation. We are trying to re-train ourselves as we are re-training horses and in the process getting an up-close understanding of what didn’t work, and even with all your love, it’s still not working.

A horse’s fear won’t be healed by repeating the activity to “desensitize” the horse, even if our intention is good. More of the same intimidation isn’t the cure, it’s how they got that way. Understand that the behavior is there for a reason that helps the horse. It might be a wrong reason for us, but the horse believes survival depends on it. Nothing less than survival.

Ouch, the horse sees us as one of the monsters. It isn’t about us or our inability to control what others think. We reason the unreasonable, but it still hurts.

They say you have to hit rock bottom to change. And yes, we might hit a few false bottoms before we really hit hard enough to understand the difference between our idea of training and the arduous task of changing an ingrained habit. Habits are like icebergs, the largest part below the surface. It’s a relief when we finally accept there will be no faith healings today. Inconceivably, it’s even a bit liberating.

Let it go. As much as it’s our heart’s desire to heal the horse, we have to let our importance go. We can’t make a horse trust us any more than that dominating trainer could before us. There is no can of Peace or Confidence on the pantry shelf. The memory of their first trainer never leaves, any more than we can forget being bullied as kids. If we remember those dark emotions, expect no less from a horse.

Instead, get comfortable. Both partners need seasons ahead to build new habits. Eventually, the old memory finally fades, replaced by consistency and kindness recognized in horse time. In hindsight, we smile at our naive notion that a location change would be enough to change the nature of a horse. We aren’t less enthusiastic. It’s more about making friends with the passing of time. The other word for that is finding patience.

First, the horse needs to feel safe. Not frightened and not shut down. We can’t train this part; the horse has to get there in his own time. Our skill is less important to the horse than his own resilience. Can we trust the horse to do this? We still ask questions about mud puddles and halters over sensitive ears, but rather than forcing an answer, can we stand back and allow the horse time enough to build the inner confidence to answer? Can we let him heal himself? Even when change comes so gradually that it’s hard to quantify and put on that damned shelf?

Eventually, we get patient or the horse gets to a mature age or both, and the problems slowly resolve. We don’t remember a particular day of enlightenment. It was more of a long slow sunrise, with pink and yellow against a blue sky. We forget those long dark nights of resistance. We’re part of a community that cares less about what a horse offers us and more about the welfare of horses. We will always ride in the light.

With respect for my clients, especially those in our online group who started in the online school two long years ago, and who are reaping the benefits of patience and acceptance, please stand tall and raise that hand again. Take pride in your progress as well as theirs. Horses also let us know when we’re getting it right. We can trust that, too.

…

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward. Scheduling clinics for the fall in the Midwest and Eastern states now.

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, free participation in “group lessons”, and live chats with Anna. Become part of the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post There Will Be No Faith Healings Today appeared first on Anna Blake.

On The Road for Horses: Adventure, Drama, Dog Hair.

 

[image error]Aftermarket radar.

I hope you didn’t worry I’d get lost. I installed radar and didn’t take a wrong turn. Maybe a few alternate routes…

Holding Mister spellbound with horse talk.

Writing with Donkeys

A brief catch-up on my clinic travel. Even with the Covid shutdown, I could only overthink the situation for so long. Why not apply Affirmative Training to my work style? I could go slower and say good girl to myself in a more sustainable way. I wanted the flexibility of not being at the mercy of non-refundable plane tickets. I wanted to enjoy the ride. There must be a way for a clinic to be less like a drive-by shooting and more, well, relaxed and forward. So, I bought an RV. I admit, not an innovative idea. I have friends who have driven the gypsy trail for decades; insert their cackles here.We passed through 4 states in a month and returned home with a big bag of laundry and the confidence to head west.

[image error]Always a better view through ears.

Less than a month later, we started the trek to the Pacific with the first stop a Barn Visit in Arizona, where a wolf pack took down an elk in the pasture just beside us. It would have been especially upsetting to Mister if he hadn’t slept through it. On to California where there were writing workshops tagged onto the clinics. We traveled north through fields of produce and hillside vineyards and were reminded how we depend on the land. We took a one-lane mountain pass and were harassed by wild donkeys, but again, Mister saved us. It was wonderful to be teaching, wrestling with microphones, digging out neck rings for riders, and making new friends. The horses were perfect, the horse people were inspiring, and seeing the country through bug splatters is a beautiful thing.

We made it to the Pacific

Oregon was especially special with a visit to Duchess Sanctuary, one of my favorite places. There was a marauding throng of wild turkeys that surrounded our trailer and Mister had to run them off from the safety of the bed. It was a narrow escape. Two more stops in the open hilly countryside of the state where they don’t let you pump your own gas. The series of clinics were attended by kindred spirits; this horse world is changing for the better! We spoke in Calming signals, our mother tongue, to which Mister yawns and gives a good shake. The horses were perfect, the horse people were inspiring, and seeing the country through bug splatters is a beautiful thing.

Have I mentioned I’m working on a book? It has a great title, it’s more diverse and wide-ranging than my others, and has a dashing (if short) hero.

 

A holdup on a narrow mountain pass.

Duchess Sanctuary

With each mile, I fell more deeply entranced with the exquisite beauty of our Earth and simultaneously, more concerned for the myriad of challenges that horses and horse owners face from environmental change. It has a personal side; I worry about the size of my own carbon footprint while traveling to clinics, too. It’s a toss-up what’s worse, driving or flying, but neither is good for the Earth. I’m hoping for a solution that will serve the planet better. Any ideas?

It took us 6 weeks to make our way back to Colorado. I’m grateful to the organizers who invited us and the participants who welcomed us. Almost 7000 miles so far, in 10 states. I’ve seen miraculous sunsets, horrible fiery wrecks, diverse extremes in the landscape, and a smorgasbord of roadkill. There were elite resorts and destitute reservations. And of course, road rage. We are so many things, us Americans. I hope we all find our way home soon.

Waiting for the ferry in the San Juans.

Mister and I will hit the road again next week. After that short trip to Wyoming, we’re off in August to the Southwest, and in September, we’re proud to be part of the Higher Ground Fair in Laramie, WY. Then finally, we’ll strike out east for the Atlantic Ocean, stopping to work along the way, giving clinics where we’re invited. Arriving in a cloud of dog hair, but no less enthusiastic, we’re looking for horse training adventure and liver treats. It’ll be part clinic tour, part travelogue, part writing escape, and mostly a celebration of horses and dogs and people changing the world. You have stories and my pen is poised.

Calming signals from my self-care specialist.

We might be the only RV travelers NOT on vacation. Please consider hosting a clinic or a Barn Visit in the Midwest or east coast, check out my web page on clinics or contact me here. I encourage you to audit if you can. Obviously, I’ll need enough work scheduled in a region to facilitate going there. Updates are posted frequently on my travel calendar as clinics are added. Check back often.

In the meantime, Mister and I will rest up here at Infinity Farm, teach some online courses, eat cookies, judge a virtual dressage show, and spend some time in profound conversation about his belly.

Best wishes to all of you. Here’s hoping that you and your herd are finding some shade in these dog days of summer. Your horse wants to remind you it’s watermelon season.

 

We hope to see you… On The Road.

Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward

Want more? Become a “Barnie.” Subscribe to our online training group with training videos, audio blogs, daily quotes, participation in “group lessons”,  live chats with Anna, and the most supportive group of like-minded horsepeople anywhere.

Anna teaches ongoing courses like Calming Signals, Affirmative Training, and more at The Barn School, as well as virtual clinics and our infamous  Happy Hour. Everyone’s welcome.

Visit annablake.com to find archived blogs, purchase signed books, schedule a live consultation, subscribe for email delivery of this blog, or ask a question about the art and science of working with horses.

Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

The post On The Road for Horses: Adventure, Drama, Dog Hair. appeared first on Anna Blake.

Our Horses, Ourselves: Simple Steps to Having More Confidence

Want to do a kindness for your horse? Perhaps show your affection in a “love language” that suits horses? Did I just do that? Refer to a nineties self-help book for couples? Yes, let me give you the gist: maybe you want flowers but your partner changes the oil in your truck. Expressing love is complicated between humans but even more so for humans and horses. Sure, horses like to eat, but sugary treats are a mistake for horses with gastric or metabolic issues. Not all horses enjoy a bath or even just getting groomed. And I’ve known lots of horses who hate trail rides. What would a meaningful gift be?

Providing the Three Fs are a start: Freedom, (room to roam); Friends, (the companionship of other horses); Forage, (access to food and water). Beyond those survival necessities, confidence is the one princely gift that benefits horses the most. A confident horse is healthier, sounder, and more settled in challenging situations. Horses will always be hardwired flight animals, we can’t control or micromanage them, but a confident horse handles bumps and change better. A confident horse has more autonomy in his environment.

But confidence isn’t sold in a bag. It’s a nebulous quality. It comes and goes in different scenarios. Some rides are calm and forward while on other days a horse might be resistant. Soreness happens when we don’t see the cause, transitions in the herd make a dramatic difference, and fluctuations in the weather impact them. Mares have hormonal changes. Rehab can sour a horse. One day the trailer is easy and another day, not so much. We are wrong to think that once something is “trained” it can’t come undone.

There is nothing a horse can take for granted; the world always has the potential for chaos. That puts us in the same boat but are there things we might do daily to help our horses? Can we invest in their fundamental behaviors in ways that might pay off on challenging days? Can we model confidence for horses in peaceful, kind ways?

It’s easy to say horses can get their confidence from us, but how do we actually do that? Acting tough is no fun and what if we aren’t the most confident in the first place? Maybe we try to hide our uneasiness with bravado but our horse sees through it. For horses who have experienced fear-based training, it’s hard to trust in general and it takes the time it takes. Or maybe we have a good horse. We’re grateful and what to add to his well-being. The training fundamentals become even more important over time for horses as the challenges grow, and for us, as we tend to get complacent just about the time horses need our help.

To progress, we must grow our own skills and build on good habits that support our horses. Who doesn’t want to improve for their horse, but how to do it? It might take some soul-searching, some letting go of old approaches, and a bit of focus. As much as we like to hang out with horses, adding a little focus on our own behaviors is the place to start.

How aware are we of our own bodies? Do we furrow our brows, or are our lips tight? Relax that face and breathe. Are we tentative when distracted? Of course. Focus doesn’t mean micromanaging, it just means holding awareness of the environment in the moment, somewhat like what horses do. We don’t control things; we just notice them.

Perhaps it’s time to tidy up your process. Here are some ideas:

-It’s not about being perfect but could you be less forgetful? Organize yourself in the tack room, take an extra minute to look around and quietly see you have what you need and don’t need to take more trips for things you’ve forgotten. Horses read that as anxiety. Instead, take that quiet moment to settle yourself before you greet your horse and consciously present yourself in a quiet way. Confidence is peaceful.

-It’s about thinking about the route to take and planning for it. It could be about understanding the direction the gate opens and positioning the horse before getting there so we’re not forever turning our horse around because we have made a mistake. It means having a purposeful march to your walk that’s ground-covering. Confidence moves forward.

-It’s about planning ahead, turning the horse when there is enough room, rather than waiting too long so we end up having to pull the rope or reins. It’s asking for a bit more energy instead. The softness in our hands on the ground or in the saddle must be a top priority. Confidence is preparing ahead for transitions.

-It’s keeping an awareness of our hands every moment. Are we pulling, mauling, teasing, or just generally being loud when we should be watching calming signals? Are we crowding our horse’s space or do we step back and give the horse room to volunteer. Confidence is listening and letting the air rest.

-It’s consciously bringing energy to your horse. Be the same dependable human every day, and then change up your working patterns in small ways so you remain interesting. Lower your expectations so you have more to be grateful for. Confidence is saying yes.

-It’s about spatial awareness at the mounting block so we approach it slowly and don’t jig the horse back and forth. It’s a quiet plan to ride a simple pattern like a figure eight or a serpentine. Or to ride forward, looking at a landmark. Have a destination in mind because horses sense that. Let the horse balance himself by moving at a rhythmic speed he can relax at, not too fast or slow. Less correction, let him pick his way without over-steering. Confidence is letting the horse manage himself.

-It’s about flexibility, we aren’t overcontrolling perfectionists and don’t force the horse to stick to the failed plan. We’re forgiving of our horses or ourselves, so change is not a threat. So that our own attitude has an affirmative purpose and the horse finds peace in us when the world turns chaotic. Confidence is breathing.

-It’s about daily practice. Can we show our love in ways that benefit them? If we want to be there for our horses on the hard days, we have to start in small ways and on ordinary days. In order to be dependable, and mentor that quality in our horse when the challenge is great, we have to build it into their foundation by consciously focusing on our language and actions. Confidence is a habit.

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Anna Blake, Relaxed & Forward, now scheduling 2022 clinics and barn visits. Information here.

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Affirmative training is the fine art of saying yes.

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