I've heard it said that people often resemble their animals. Or is it that animals resemble their owners? And is there actually any validity to this idea anyway, or is it just superstition built on anomalies? This is what I was wondering the other day, as I took Rocky on a new trail.
He backed out of the trailer and snorted, stepping quickly, looking around at his new surroundings. He calmed quickly, and I saddled him up and joined the other two horses we were riding with. As we started out, Rocky was on high alert. He was anxious passing other horses, spooked over a few dogs who rushed the fence - just nervous. After a mile or so he relaxed and we settled into our usual (and comfortable) trail position - last, and lagging way behind the other horses. I trotted him forward every so often to catch up, but we always ended up quite a few strides behind. When it pointed out that he's a slow poke, I just laugh and say "yeah, he's a slow walker". But I have to admit, it's where I prefer to be too.
For training purposes, because Rocky is still a young horse, I sometimes put him in the lead even though I know it makes him (and me) uncomfortable. He has no desire to lead (nor do I), so unless I make him (and me), he (we) never would. He (I) don't like other horses (people) rushing up behind him (me) and scaring him (me); and he (I) don't like other horses (people) following too closely behind him (me). It makes him (me) nervous. Regardless, I put him in the lead. He stopped at first, and looked around, as if to ask "um, are you sure? Why? Why do you want me to lead? I don't want to lead..." He took a step and stopped. Then another and stopped. I had to urge him forward, and even then he kept looking back, checking to see if the other horses were there, and if one of them would perhaps like to lead, and to make sure he hadn't been tricked and left behind. He began to walk at a decent pace, but his ears flicked back every few seconds to listen.
We came off the trail into an open space, where he graciously tried to step aside and let another horse lead. But I thought he could use a little more training, so I asked him to lead again. He spooked at a blue sign marking the beginning of a new trail, and began breathing hard. He did not want to lead; he didn't know what to expect, and he was scared. He wanted to turn around, but I kept pushing him forward and after a few circles, he moved past the sign. His behavior at this point was nervous but he didn't stop, just kept looking around, breathing hard. Then we came to a hurdle, and there was no where to go but over it. This took some coaxing; he had to sniff it, look around, then sniff it again. A little more coaxing though and he stepped over the hurdle. But I am left to wonder whether he stepped over the hurdle because he was finally comfortable with it, or because of my coaxing?
We continued on across two more hurdles, which he hesitated at, but stepped over. Then we turned around and went back the same way we had just come. This time through, he didn't hesitate at all - just stepped right over the hurdles and took the lead like it was no big deal. We came off that trail, back into the open space, and I finally Rocky to step aside and allow the other two horses go ahead. For the remainder of the ride, Rocky and I hung in the back. I let him walk at his own pace; he relaxed, I relaxed. And it was peaceful. The other horses were strides ahead of us. He wan't worried about where to go because he was following the horses ahead of him, and there was no one behind us so he wasn't tuned in to that either. We were content, which made me wonder: was I content because he was, or was he content because he sensed I was? And did I happen to buy a horse that had my same fears and reactions to new situations? Or did he adopt these behaviors because of me?
These are my thoughts: we both came to each other with preexisting personalities - similar, but not exactly the same. One thing is clear - neither of us like new and unfamiliar situations. They make us nervous. When put into an uncomfortable situation, we both prefer someone else to go first; and he (I) prefer having someone who is comfortable leading us. If we can follow someone we trust into uncomfortable surroundings, we don't hesitate to try new things. We don't like to lead, but will do it when asked or when necessary. Our hesitancy to lead seems to stem from that fact that we don't like people watching or scrutinizing us until we know what we're doing. We are both suspicious of our surroundings unless someone is there to show us things are okay. And we both have an irrational fear of being tricked and left behind, so we constantly want to look behind us and check. After we conquer an uncomfortable situation however, going back through it is usually no big deal, and leading becomes quite easy. We both prefer to like to hang in the back because we watch, listen, and take in our surroundings.
So, do I resemble Rocky? Or he me... Either way, we just seem to fit as a team.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
The Peppermint Chronicles
I know a horse named Lena who loves peppermints. She knows the crinkle of the wrapper from across her stall. If you give Lena a mint, she puts it immediately in her back teeth - crunch crunch - and it's gone, at which point she tries to nudge you for another one.
Rocky treats peppermints a little differently. I'll hold the mint to his nose and he'll take an exaggerated sniff and excitedly take it off my hand with his lips. But then it gets odd. He doesn't chew it, but kind of rolls it around in his mouth. He'll try to crunch it with his front teeth but the pieces can't stay in his mouth and they'll fall to the ground. So I've started keeping my hand under his mouth to catch the pieces and give them back, which he sucks back up. He'll take the smaller pieces and do the same thing again, rolling it around, like he's actually savoring the mint. After all remnants of the mint are finally gone, he stands there licking his lips, for forever... At first I thought it was treats in general, that maybe he just didn't know what to do with a treat - but he crunches his apple-flavored horse treats right away, keeping the pieces in his mouth. I can't imagine, however that this will go on forever - I don't truly believe that he's really sucking on peppermints instead of eating them, I think he just needs more experience with them.
Rocky treats peppermints a little differently. I'll hold the mint to his nose and he'll take an exaggerated sniff and excitedly take it off my hand with his lips. But then it gets odd. He doesn't chew it, but kind of rolls it around in his mouth. He'll try to crunch it with his front teeth but the pieces can't stay in his mouth and they'll fall to the ground. So I've started keeping my hand under his mouth to catch the pieces and give them back, which he sucks back up. He'll take the smaller pieces and do the same thing again, rolling it around, like he's actually savoring the mint. After all remnants of the mint are finally gone, he stands there licking his lips, for forever... At first I thought it was treats in general, that maybe he just didn't know what to do with a treat - but he crunches his apple-flavored horse treats right away, keeping the pieces in his mouth. I can't imagine, however that this will go on forever - I don't truly believe that he's really sucking on peppermints instead of eating them, I think he just needs more experience with them.
It got me thinking though. (Shocking, I know). As humans, I think we tend to adopt one of these methods when a good thing falls in our lap. Some of us accept it immediately, taking it in without so much as a second thought, devour it, and are instantly ready for the next thing. Others, although excited about the good thing, roll it around first - maybe savoring it, maybe unsure of what to do actually do with it - but letting a few pieces will fall out along the way; maybe you get the pieces back, maybe you don't.
On a deeper level though, one could argue whether or not a 'peppermint' is really a 'good thing'? And does a 'good thing' depend on the intrinsic value of the thing itself, the 'taste buds' of the beneficiary, or the ideology and opinions of the person giving the thing? And finally, if it's determined that the 'peppermint' is actually a 'good thing', can one achieve a happy medium? Somewhere between Lena and Rocky? What is it that gets us there...
Just a little food for thought...
Dark and Early in the Morning
You've heard the expression bright and early in the morning? Well, I'd like to tell you about dark and early in the morning, and how it is quickly becoming my favorite time of day.
I've never been a morning person; as a teenager I slept in on the weekends often until early afternoon; as a college student, I much preferred the still and quiet of night to study which only reinforced the idea that mornings were for sleeping; as an adult, I got up if I had something to do, but much preferred to sleep in; as a mom, this became less and less of an option. Of course, because I have older children, I'm awakened to the smell a kid making waffles, not the cry of a baby, but I'm up regardless.
Enter a two year old, named Rocky, who is teaching me about dark and early, about the time of day I've been missing all these years - the time of day my husband has always preferred and I never understood why. Whether I want to or not now, I'm awake around 4:30am. I hit the snooze for about 15 minutes and then throw back the covers, pull on jeans and t-shirt and tuck my hair under a hat. The dogs watch me move around the room, lit by only one light so I don't wake Johnny, until they realize that it's for real, that I'm actually getting up. I kiss Johnny good-bye and follow 12 feet who barrel down the stairs. I'm out of the house a little after 5am, a Red Bull in hand.
Down a bumpy dirt road, I pull up to gates behind which sit a house and stables - both still dark and quiet. I pull in, turn off the engine and step out into the dark. It's hard not to look up at the stars - they are the only lights out. I walk into the stable, set my things down and check on Rocky. He is often still sleeping on the ground inside his stall and will let me come in, scratch his neck and ears, and give him kisses before he even stands up. Just like waking a sleeping baby...
The only sounds that early in the morning are my footsteps, the creak of the tack room door as I open it, and horses - their nays, the crunching of hay, and the rattling of buckets from horses waiting (impatiently) for their grain. I slip Rocky into his halter and lead him out of his stall and into the cross-ties to be brushed and groomed. He is usually still sleepy but loves to be scratched on his neck, extending it out as far as he can. If you scratch under his chin he will tuck his head down and turn it from side to side so you can get the right spot. Sometimes, when he's tied to the hitching post outside the stable, he rubs his chest and neck on the wood. You can tell when he's finally starting to 'wake up' because he'll start to nibble on, well, anything - my shirt, my leg, my back, my phone, or most recently my hair. I saddle him up, swap his halter for a bridle and lead him into the arena to stretch his legs before taking him on a sunrise trail ride.
By time the rest of the world is just waking up and reaching for the coffee, I've been on the back of a horse for an hour and watched the sun peek over the mountains and light the sky, bringing us into a brand new day. Maybe the sunrise is why I like dark and early so much...
I've never been a morning person; as a teenager I slept in on the weekends often until early afternoon; as a college student, I much preferred the still and quiet of night to study which only reinforced the idea that mornings were for sleeping; as an adult, I got up if I had something to do, but much preferred to sleep in; as a mom, this became less and less of an option. Of course, because I have older children, I'm awakened to the smell a kid making waffles, not the cry of a baby, but I'm up regardless.
Enter a two year old, named Rocky, who is teaching me about dark and early, about the time of day I've been missing all these years - the time of day my husband has always preferred and I never understood why. Whether I want to or not now, I'm awake around 4:30am. I hit the snooze for about 15 minutes and then throw back the covers, pull on jeans and t-shirt and tuck my hair under a hat. The dogs watch me move around the room, lit by only one light so I don't wake Johnny, until they realize that it's for real, that I'm actually getting up. I kiss Johnny good-bye and follow 12 feet who barrel down the stairs. I'm out of the house a little after 5am, a Red Bull in hand.
Down a bumpy dirt road, I pull up to gates behind which sit a house and stables - both still dark and quiet. I pull in, turn off the engine and step out into the dark. It's hard not to look up at the stars - they are the only lights out. I walk into the stable, set my things down and check on Rocky. He is often still sleeping on the ground inside his stall and will let me come in, scratch his neck and ears, and give him kisses before he even stands up. Just like waking a sleeping baby...
The only sounds that early in the morning are my footsteps, the creak of the tack room door as I open it, and horses - their nays, the crunching of hay, and the rattling of buckets from horses waiting (impatiently) for their grain. I slip Rocky into his halter and lead him out of his stall and into the cross-ties to be brushed and groomed. He is usually still sleepy but loves to be scratched on his neck, extending it out as far as he can. If you scratch under his chin he will tuck his head down and turn it from side to side so you can get the right spot. Sometimes, when he's tied to the hitching post outside the stable, he rubs his chest and neck on the wood. You can tell when he's finally starting to 'wake up' because he'll start to nibble on, well, anything - my shirt, my leg, my back, my phone, or most recently my hair. I saddle him up, swap his halter for a bridle and lead him into the arena to stretch his legs before taking him on a sunrise trail ride.
By time the rest of the world is just waking up and reaching for the coffee, I've been on the back of a horse for an hour and watched the sun peek over the mountains and light the sky, bringing us into a brand new day. Maybe the sunrise is why I like dark and early so much...
 |
| Photo Credit: V Lowe (taken during one of our mountain morning rides....) |
I Belong to a Horse
I bought adopted belong to a horse named Rocky. Seven months ago, I knew practically nothing about horses. I've always loved them - lived my childhood in many western novels, dreamed of riding them, admired them - but a horse isn't an animal you can just go to the pound, pick out, buy a collar for, and take home. You have to know what you're doing first. And thanks to the very dear friends whom God brought into my life, I've learned enough about horses to have one of my own.
But I didn't truly understand those words until I fell in love with a horse named Rocky. He is still a baby...only two and half years old. A Dunn colored Quarter horse who loves to be scratched on the neck and under the chin, and bites his tongue when I ride him. He gives you kisses and tucks his nose into you so you can hug him. He is beautiful, and he's a horse with heart.
But the story I want to tell you isn't about my journey from February to September. The story I want to tell you is about the beginning of a love affair. With Rocky, with horses, with a way of life.
I read these words over and over growing up; they rest below a picture of running horses.This still hangs in my childhood home to this day."The Horse: Here is nobility without conceit, friendship without envy, beauty without vanity, a willing servant, yet no slave."
But I didn't truly understand those words until I fell in love with a horse named Rocky. He is still a baby...only two and half years old. A Dunn colored Quarter horse who loves to be scratched on the neck and under the chin, and bites his tongue when I ride him. He gives you kisses and tucks his nose into you so you can hug him. He is beautiful, and he's a horse with heart.
"He doth nothing but talk of his horse."This is quickly becoming a true statement about me. Perhaps because its all so new, perhaps because he and I are still in the 'getting to know each other phase'. Or maybe because I'm in love. Don't you remember that feeling of first being in love? Of talking about the person all the time? Of wanting to tell the world about the one you love? It's kinda like that. Except with a horse.
"Horse, thou art truly a creature without equal, for thou flies without wings and conquers without sword."
 |
| A photograph that hangs in my home... |
"Riding is a complicated joy. You learn something each time. It is never quite the same, and you never know it all."
I've come a long way since February, but I still have so much to learn. And I do, I learn something new every time I ride. But I've also learned that no matter how much general knowledge you have about horses, each horse is different and you have to learn the intricacies of that horse. Which means that no matter how much you know, or how long you've been riding horses, a new horse offers you the opportunity to learn something new.
“To ride a horse is to ride the sky.”
"In riding a horse, we borrow freedom."
There's nothing quite like the feel of being on the back of a horse - its a natural high. Not simply because of the power beneath you, but because of the life a horse leads you into. A life lived outdoors - in God's country - and a life lived at a slower pace. A life where you take the time to look around you, to be aware and appreciate the beauty of the surroundings around you. A life where getting a little lost simply means more time on a horse. A life that makes you ache for times gone by - for life 150 years ago and the simplicity that life offered then. But this life - this freedom - comes through a relationship of mutual trust and respect.
 |
| A painting hanging in my Grandma's cabin... |
"Yet when all the books have been read and reread, it boils down to the horse, his human companion, and what goes on between them."You can't tell a horse you know what you're doing, you have to show them. You can't communicate through words that you respect your horse, you have to prove it.
“All I pay my psychiatrist is the cost of feed and hay, and he'll listen to me any day.”Horses understand actions, and simple commands. They can't talk, can't converse...yet still we talk to them. Because they offer what a good shrink does - a unbiased, non-judgmental listening ear. I wonder if the sound of our voice is as comforting to them as their presence is to us.
"There are only two emotions that belong in the saddle; one is a sense of humor, and the other is patience."Horses are extremely perceptive of your emotions, of your decision-making and leadership skills, and of your level of confidence. Horses each have their own personality, and they make me laugh. I've also learned that humor leads to patience. Training moments don't have to be frustrating if you first find the humor, take the time to understand the fear or hesitance, and then work patiently through the situation. If you are frustrated, your horse knows it. And they don't respond as well. Horses have fears, just like we do. Some are rational, some irrational, some they anticipate, some they smell, some catch them (and you) off guard. But they are fears just the same. And like children, it takes the parent, or rider, to help calm and educate their fear.
“Feeling down? Saddle up.”The second your foot hits the stirrup, a bad day - a bad mood - can simply disappear. But again, it isn't simply the horse that offers this - it's the way of life. When you are on a horse, you are either riding or training in solitude - which means you have quiet time to think and eliminate the noise of life - or you are riding with a good friend - which also has a way of lifting your mood.
"The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears."God, are there horses in heaven? Please, please say yes! Because the joy that comes from riding a horse is something I would love to have for all eternity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)