Setting the Pace

"Faith is to believe what you do not yet see; the reward for this faith is to see what you believe." 

            -Saint Augustine

        The following day I returned to the farm to take another stab at riding Auggie. The weather was better, so I wanted to see how much that affected his behavior. I asked Amy to put him on the list for the equine dentist at the end of the week as well. I knew the rescue had done a lot of work of rehabbing and vetting him, so I trusted that his teeth had been floated, but I couldn't rule out new dental issues for some of the head flipping action without having a professional check into it.  

    He seemed a bit grumpy and standoffish, but not quite as wired as the rainy Sunday afternoon. We played the same game with the bridle, but I was more prepared for it, so I tried to let him dip his head down and take the bit on his own terms. The way he threw his head, I knew I was never going to win a fight with him, unless I wanted to be smashed into the ceiling. Eventually, he took the bit and it seemed to be fitting properly, but he jumped at any attempt to pry at his mouth. It wasn't totally unreasonable to think that there could be some pain emanating from his teeth.

   

 

     I led him to the indoor arena before all the lesson kids could get in there and clog up the aisle way to the ring. Amy was standing in front of some of the stalls talking to a small group of parents from the IEA team. It was a nice day, and she would probably take her lesson group to the outdoor ring to jump, which meant that the indoor arena would be quiet for the time being. I tried to slink by without drawing attention to myself, but when you have a 17 hand gelding with a blood bay coat, it's kind of hard to hide. I didn't necessarily want to avoid Amy, but I wasn't really confident about getting into the details of the last couple days in front of everyone.

    "Hey! how are you doing?" Amy called as I walked by.

    "Oh good, good. How about you?" I said from behind Auggie's cascading mane.

     "Good. How's he doing so far?"

       "Oh you know, he's adjusting to being here. A lot of things are new to him," I replied. It was the truth, basically. Everything here was foreign to him, as life with the Amish didn't usually include jumps with fake flowers in them. 

    I continued on to the edge of the ring, and about fifteen feet into it, he locked up and refused to budge. He was not going to go near that mounting block, not for all the pleading in the world. No treat was going to bribe him and pulling on him was futile. He was big and powerful, and if he wanted to plant his feet, that's what he was going to do. I attempted to take him to the left, then to the right, but that wasn't going to work this time.

    Amy quickly noticed my predicament. People were beginning to filter into the arena to grab their ponies and horses for the upcoming lesson. Inevitably, some of them would need to use the mounting block inside before heading out to the ring. Auggie was going to be blocking traffic like a jack-knifed semi and I was useless standing there. I really didn't want to be the reason everyone was late starting their lesson.

    In a flash, Amy was by Auggie's side opposite of me. She took him by the bit and gave him a cluck, but the big horse locked up. His feet were immobilized.

    "Auggie, come on man, what's the deal?" she pleaded. "Don't do that Standardbred pose now!" She tugged at him, but all he did was stretch out like he was posing for Horse Illustrated. 

    "He's afraid of that space there for some reason," I interjected.

    "Well, ok. If he won't go to the mounting block, we'll bring one to him." She turned away to grab a rickety step ladder from the center of the ring. She plopped it down by his side and took hold of the reins from me. I wasn't sure if this was the best method for dealing with his behavior, but I wasn't in a position to argue at that point. As she held his head, I climbed on easily. He made no fuss about my weight on his back. 

    Once I was settled, Amy let go of the reins and turned to assist her students. I had the indoor to myself, and somehow I felt that I had more influence over Auggie's confidence level from his back than I did on the ground. He walked around the perimeter, snorting, but still moving forward. It was clear that he did not like this place; maybe it was the weird shadows, or sounds echoing off the walls? Maybe his back was getting sore? He needed that little push to get past the things that bothered him, but he was not at the point of trusting me that much. Somebody had let him down along the line, and he wasn't ready to fully forgive that quickly. 

    He was not 100% on taking cues from the saddle yet. He had gotten some basics at the rescue, but there was so much for him to learn. He was like a tourist in a new country scrambling to learn the language of the local population. He didn't know what the purpose of going around in a circle was, or how to balance himself and a rider just yet. This was going to take a lot of work. Slow work.

    I prompted him for a trot. He did not understand leg cues very well, but with some careful encouragement, he picked up the idea that he needed to go faster than a walk. I quickly learned that Auggie had three basic gears, Stop, amble, and 'hold on for dear life.' He scooted right into a pace, head up, full throttle on the straight away and came to screeching halt at the beginning of the turn. He had no clue how to take a turn that hard, since he had spent the last couple years of his life running all out on paved roads, pulling a cart as vehicles whizzed by. This was awkward and quite uncomfortable to ride, but it was the beginning of an understanding between us.

    I tried a couple more transitions from walk to pace on the straight away. I did not want him to just pace anymore, but that was going to take some effort to iron that out. As sloppy as it looked, I had gotten somewhere with him for the day, and I decided that was enough for one day. In the coming weeks, he was going to astound me with how fast he could learn something new. There were so many issues to solve with him, it was a bit like being a detective trying to piece it all together.

    I untacked him and cleaned him off in his stall. I put apples him his feed dish as a treat, but he didn't understand what they were for, so I pulled out my pocketknife and sliced one up for him. The juices intrigued him, and he approached me to see what I had in my hand. His face softened and his elastic lips delicately lifted the slice from my outstretched palm. He nodded as he chewed, clearly enjoying the flavors, just as he had done with the carrots before. He was like a brand-new baby experiencing things for the first time.

    The dentist was scheduled for the end of the week, so the next challenge was to expose him to the wash stalls for the first time. I was apprehensive about taking him in there and putting him on cross ties, as it can be a bit of scary place for a new horse; sounds echo off the walls and people rush in and out to make up feed, use the hose, or get into the bathroom. He would sort of cornered in there with all this auditory stimulation with no relief except to get out. 

    As I turned to leave for the day, I started to wonder if the saddle fit him properly. I'm not sure where the thought came from exactly, but it was a bit like a lightbulb turning on inside my head. Of course, the saddle could be a problem! He's an unusual shape for a riding horse, and my old Crosby was definitely not designed for something like him. I needed a professional saddle fitter ASAP.