Standing Up

Here in Saskatchewan, many things go on in rural areas that really shouldn't. Building codes are over looked, fires are lit where they shouldn't be, underage drinking, etc, but the worst thing by far is the animal abuse and neglect that is unchecked and rampant. In small towns, everyone knows everyone, and when people are neglecting their animals, no one says anything. They don't want to be looked down on by the community. But there comes a time when we have to stand up.

When I go on the bus on my way to school, I'm always on the lookout for animals. I notice the several different groups of horses that are around, and try to see if they're doing okay and are well looked after.

None of the horses are in perfect conditions, but lately, I've noticed that one group of horses are in a particularily bad situation. 5 draft horses and one foal are living in a 2 acre barbed wire pasture. There were several sad looking hay bales that were thrown in over the winter, but they're long gone. Now all the grass is eaten down, and lately they've been stripping the bark and eating the leaves off of the trees, because they have nothing else. At least they have a pond to drink out of  and a barn for shelter.

I've been kind of turning a blind eye on these horses, thinking "what can I do, I'm only 15." But I realized there is a lot I can do. I can report these horses, and try to make their life better. So, today, I went and took pictures for evidence, and I will be calling the SPCA tomorrow, as they only have Mon-Fri 9-5 hours.

I was shocked at how skinny they were once I was up close, and now I feel horrible about not intervening sooner. I also found that the barbed wire fence was down at one part, and two of the horses were out. They were fat from eating from the ditches, which makes me think that perhaps they were out for a while. As soon as the horses in the pasture saw us, they came right up, looking for food I think. One of the horses that was out ran back into the pasture, and got it's foot caught in the barbed wire, but thankfully got out. I termporarily fixed the fence to keep the horses from being caught in it. There was no one at the house, except for a poorly looking dog.

Hopefully the SPCA can help these horses, and if not, I will continue giving them hay (I threw in a couple of my horse's square bales after I took pictures). How hypocritical of me is it to say I have a heart for horses if I do nothing to help those that are in need? No longer will I stand by when I can be doing something to help them.

All ribs showing

This mare has a foal, and he's taking everything from her.

This horse was(and still is) outside of the pasture.

All are skinny except for the foal and the liver chestnut (he was the horse that jumped back in)

So so skinny

Horrifying

Downed fence

You can see the hip bones and everything.

Bravery

I dread every time I plan to work with Holly.

I'm afraid that I'll mess the little things up, and she'll lose any trust she has for me. I'm afraid that she won't want to be near me, that she'll fear me. I'm afraid.

Holly is my everything. She is my child, someone who I put more effort into than myself. She is my teacher, from whom I have learned gentleness, kindness, patience, and to live in the moment. She is my best friend, my therapist, the only being in the whole world that I can pour my heart into, and not have to worry that I'm talking her ear off.

I'm afraid, because if I lose Holly (if she dies, is sold, decides she doesn't like me anymore, doesn't respond to me) I am nothing. I have put so much time, money, passion, and sorrow into her, that to lose it all would be devastating. But not only that. If I lost her, I would be losing my child, my closest friend. If I lost her, I would go crazy.

So, I've tiptoed around her. I've avoided doing anything with her that would change our relationship, that would make her think that I'm not nice to be around. I've avoided bridling, because she doesn't like it. I've avoided grooming her, because she doesn't like it. I've avoided riding because I'm scared that I won't be a good enough leader on her back as I am on the ground, and that she'll lose trust and respect for me because of that.

Lately, I've realized that what I'm doing isn't helping either of us. We're not going anywhere, we're not moving. My parents are fed up. They want me to start riding Holly this summer, or they are selling her.

At first I was furious with them. How dare they threaten Holly like that. But, then I saw their point. Deep down inside, I do want to ride Holly, I do want to go places with her. I just have to face my fears. I have to be brave.

With that timeline in place, I've started to up the ante. I've started grooming Holly every day. And though she wriggled and twitched and swished her tail when I first started, I didn't give up. I made sure we were both in respectful shapes to each other, but let her move when she absolutely had to. The first few times I tried that, I was terrified that Holly would be angry with me for actually making her listen. But, to my surprise, she wasn't. In fact, after those grooming sessions, and even still, she had the most beautiful join up with me, even ignoring her food (which she was so desperate to stuff in her mouth while I was trying to groom her at first) to follow me, head level, without halter or lead.

I've also started round penning her more, and every time so far, Holly's given me gorgeous bows. I plan to start lunging her, and adding on more and more new things/work until we're riding.

I realized that this whole time I've been holding everything back (I was the same needy, cautious person with Miss B, and we didn't go anywhere either. Cindy says she's perfect now.) I was trying to control everything by keeping things slow and easy, at a speed I could manage. All it took was a kick in the pants from my parents and Cindy, and a little bravery from me, and now I'm starting to see good things. Holly hasn't let me give her a good grooming for 3 years, now she's calm for it every day. We'd only joined up about 3 times before, but now we join up every day as well. She nickers at me every time she sees me too ♥.


I've finally let go, I've freed Holly and myself from the terrible restrictions I'd put on. We're going to go places. Watch out. :P

Attempts at artistic pictures :)

She's so cute.

♥

Changes

Life. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes you wish it would go on forever. You get over things, you forget things, but it never stops changing. 

Four years ago, I never thought I would own two horses. Heck, I was ready to get rid of the one I had.

Two years ago, after Miss B came into my life, I never though I would sell her. Never. But now I have. 

For the past year I've been wondering things. Things like, would I be able to do more with Holly if Miss B wasn't in the picture? Would it be better if she just 'went away'? I quickly squashed those thoughts out of my head. There was no way I could sell her. She was my responsibility. I didn't want to ride her, but it was no fault of her own. I had pushed her to the edge, she pushed back. She scared me, and I scarred her (not physically, but still). I made her afraid of the saddle! How horrible is that? I vowed I would overcome it, I would make up to her for every time I had miss-used her, intentionally or not. And I started to, I really did. I worked with her in the round pen, I resigned myself to letting go of any goals I had for her, and eventually I just let her be in the pasture, with me there to feed, and gently communicate with every day. But, I never wanted to ride her again. I was happy with the relationship we had. When she would see me, she would bow and yawn (Holly too) and relax. I wondered if that was only because I wasn't making them do anything. Because I was just letting them be horses with no interference from me. I was terrified that if I tried working with (lunging, riding) her again, it would damage the relationship we had. I never wanted her to go back to being stressed by the very sight of the saddle, never wanted her to be so upset that she had to slam me into a wall to get me to realize it like she had to before.

Miss B has so much more potential and bravery than to just be a pasture ornament. She doesn't have conformation for anything like reigning, or dressage, or gymkhana, and don't even get me started on jumping. But, she can cross loud flowing rivers that are over chest deep without a single pause. She can truck over deadfall and through closely crowded underbrush like it's not even there. She even once stood without flinching while a herd of bison charged her from the other side of a fence (not with me on, thank goodness, but before I got her). She is so brave. Almost too brave, because she gets so strong sometimes. And I respect her for that, but I also fear her for it. There, I admitted it. I am scared of her. Before, I was scared that if I rode her, she would get "out of hand" and I wouldn't be able to control her. Lately, I've been scared of that, and on top of it, that she would hate me for doing it. 

So, I confided in the one person that truly understands my position with my horses, Cindy. She listened to my predicament, and finally came to a conclusion. She knows I don't want to do anything with Miss B, and that she's hindering me from doing anything with Holly because they're buddy sour. She also knows that I would never be able to sell her to just anybody. So, Cindy said she would buy Miss B back, and put her talents to good use as a trail horse like she was before. And I accepted. God forgive me, I accepted.

I knew I would back out of the decision if something wasn't done quickly, so the same day, Cindy came to give me a lesson, and then she would take back Miss B. In that lesson, I rode Holly for the first time since November. And it was the best ride we've ever had together. Something just clicked, and I knew I'd made the right descion. 

Both Holly and I will miss Miss B (well, we already do), but we will be better for it. I will have more time to work with Holly without any outside distractions. Miss B will be able to live up to her potential and have a job to do. Also, I know she has a great home, and I can visit her whenever I want, maybe even ride her. 

Miss B has been gone for less than a week, but already I've been progressing with Holly farther than I have in our entire life together. It's like the way life was before Miss B, except that I've learned so much, and I can deal with many of the things that Holly may throw at me. I've made goals, and plans, and I'm setting myself and Holly up to achieve them. (One of my goals is to update this blog regularly!)

I know plans change, life changes. But without change, there is no progress. It's very hard (to let go of Miss B, to work through my fears with Holly, to move forward), but I can do it. Holly and I can do it together. Miss B has been a curve in the road of The Journey, but one I have learned so much from. So, down the road I continue, with only one horse by my side.

Ignorance

"Only ignorance! Only ignorance! Don't you know it is the worst thing in the world, next to wickedness?" -- from Black Beauty, Anna Sewell

I was only 10 years old when Holly came into my life. My parents knew nothing about horses, and I didn't know much either. Because of this, Holly suffered in our early years together, with incomplete farrier and veterinary care, sometimes moldy and dusty food, sometimes not enough food, water or vitamins, not proper saddle or bit fit, and a terrible rider and handler who didn't understand her language (that would be me).

Over the years I learned that I was doing many things wrong, and that I was inadvertently treating Holly inhumanely through my ignorance. Like Anna Sewell wrote in the classic, Black Beauty, ignorance truly is the worst thing in the world, second only to purposeful cruelty. I began to deliver to Holly's physical needs through proper horse care, and her mental needs through the techniques I was learning from Cindy.

For my 13th birthday, I received Miss B, as I still didn't trust Holly enough to ride her. By then, I knew how to look after a horse, by providing all of the care necessary for optimum health, but I was still learning how to cater to a horse's needs on a mental level. When I first got her, and honestly up until this year, I saw Miss B as a machine, sort of like a motorcycle I could hop on and go for a as long or strenuous a spin as I wanted. I ripped her away from Holly, her only companion that understood her, and took her for long rides. Soon she became very anxious when she was separated from Holly, avoided being caught at all costs, and when I did ride her, tried everything to end it as soon as possible, including bucking and bolting. Eventually I stopped riding her except for when there was a group trail ride. This made things even worse because the trail rides were 12 km long, and Holly couldn't come with us. Miss B was not fit at all, and incredibly attached to Holly, her only friend, as I didn't do anything for her. The first ride, she tolerated it, but the last ride I had on her, in May, she began flipping her head non stop, jigging, and double barrel kicking at any horse behind her from the stress. It was only then that I realized that I had to rethink the way I was treating her. I'm a terrible person for allowing things to progress that far downhill.

It's now 8 months later, and Miss B finally allows herself to be caught, and she eventually calms down after some lunging, and gentle, calm handling. However, bring a saddle and/or bridle into the equation and she immediately gets extremely stressed out. Again, through ignorance, I have mentally traumatized Miss B, turning her from a safe riding horse, into a frazzled victim of my own stupidity.

I cannot take back my mistakes, and I can't just write them off by saying, "Well, I didn't know any better." I can only work through the effects of my ignorance, and they run deep. Holly can't be tied, she doesn't know how to stand for saddling or grooming, and I can't trust her not to do anything silly while I rider her. Miss B gets extremely stressed when inside and tied, and when she thinks I'm about to ride her, it's obvious that she becomes very anxious and upset. Through putting their needs as horses above mine (wanting to ride, no matter what the cost, etc.) I hope to let them know I can be trusted not to take advantage of them again, and then maybe, they will become the willing partners I've always wanted.

My beautiful girls, how I wish I could take back all the injustices I've done you. You deserve someone better than I.

Puzzles

  Miss B and Holly are polar opposites. If I do anything to offend Miss B, she will let me know with very subtle challenges, such as pushing her shoulder at me even if her barrel is bent away. She is also lazy and will try every shortcut in the book, but once I earned her trust and respect, I could tell she was there all the way, and she's never rude if I don't deserve it. Holly, however, is super expressive, and if I do anything wrong, she will let me know exactly what with big, bold gestures. She has an incredible work ethic, which unfortunately oftentimes works against me, as she does not tire easily, and never lets down her guard. Just when I think I’ve earned her respect, five seconds later she’ll put up a wall, and act like she never even joined up with me.

  I think their oppositeness is what allows me to deal with them, because if it wasn’t for Miss B’s sweet, honest actions, I don’t think I could get through the way Holly rejects me. For the longest time I thought I was actually accomplishing things with Holly; she was so soft and responsive, yawning when I was around, and generally just letting me be the leader so she could take a break. But, now she’s back to stoic defiant wild mare who has to protect Miss B from the world’s dangers while also being the biggest face biting bully. She’s turning her butt to me in the pasture when she thinks I can’t push back, she even pinned her ears at me when I went to her shoulder while she was eating!

  What I think happened with Holly is that through me not being there for her over this fall and winter, she has slowly lost all the trust and respect she had in me this summer, and is making me again prove to her that I am worth her time. I have to find some way to show her that I can make her feel better with me than she ever could on her own. The big question is how? I really don’t want her to become round pen sour (not wanting to go into the round pen because all there is, is work) like she was last year. Maybe it’s just an endless cycle of tests I must pass, and every time I grow up a little? The horses are just like a giant puzzle where the pieces kept getting mixed up and lost, and I have to fix and find them. *Sigh* 

Moving Forward

   Well, after a very long time of not doing much with my horses, I've started up a schedule again. My plan is to ride (in the round pen) Miss B and Holly once a week (on different days). Two of the five days I won't be riding, I will just tack up, round pen, and lunge. The other three days, I will just grain them indoors, and hang with them outside, bonding, and showing them that I'm not all work and no play.
   This was decided today, after I found that not only is Holly still rideable (she has only been ridden about 10 times in her life, and the last time she was ridden was the end of August.), but she has actually improved since her last ride, not stayed the same, or gone backward as I'd imagined. Of course this could be due to my improved confidence from the Dressage lessons (which sadly are over now because of MASS amounts of snow), so I'm not afraid to ask for more out of Holly. More being changing direction across the round pen, asking her to stay on the outside, stopping, and backing up. You must realize that I have been terrified of riding this horse for forever, and so it is a big step for me to actually get on and do something. I have no more excuses  because Holly's ground work is impeccable, and there are no more areas to improve in.
    However, Miss B is showing her bad side. She is really making me work and step up my game in round penning, because I have to watch for all her challenges, and figure out how to respond. Just tonight, she refused to go clockwise while round penning. It took some creative thinking to get Miss B to do what I wanted while still being respectful to her, but I did it, and it paid off, as I got some huge bows and sighs from her.
   I'm sorry if some of my lingo is confusing to any readers (if there even are any), but those of you using Chris Irwin's methods will know what I'm talking about. You can let me know if you don't understand anything in the comments, and in the future I will work at being more descriptive.

The End of an Era

    When the news of Hickstead's death reached me, the first thing that came into my mind was denial. There was no way a great horse such as him could have an end such as it was. Hickstead was a horse that deserved another Olympic performance, a retiring ceremony, and many more years relaxing on a stud farm. But when I watch the video, the great horse sinking to the ground, carefully rolling as if to set Eric safely down, I realized there was no denying it. Hickstead's death had really happened, and there was nothing I nor any other could do to change it. After this realization, I felt numb, but with a slight stinging to it, like the feeling you get when you've just been slapped. The tears came, quickly and heavily, and then the memories.
    The first time I saw that amazing equine, he and Eric Lamaze were competing in the 2007 CN International at the Spruce Meadows Masters tournament. Even though I didn't know the pair, I liked them instantly. There was something about Hickstead, the way his internal fire was so strong that it just radiated out of him, and made him impossible to forget. He wasn't a big horse by showjumping standards, but when he was in the ring he seemed to grow a few inches, and I swear to God he sported invidible wings. Hickstead's name kept popping up in Canadian showjumping news, and I was so proud of him and Eric. Truthfilly, they were the first showjumping pair that I followed closely.

Eric Lamaze and Hickstead winning the CN International in 2007

    The second memory I have of Eric and Hickstead was when they qualified for the Bejing Olympics. I felt so smug because I had known in my heart for a long time that they would make it. Even when he and Eric won gold and silver for our country, I wasn't surprised. Proud and happy, yes, but not surprised, as I had know again that they would be successful.

Hickstead clearing the water jump at the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing

   A few years passed, and I still looked forward to hearing about what Hickstead would do next. I had the amazing chance to visit Spruce Meadows in Calgary for their Masters Tournoment in 2010. There, my passion for all things horsey, expanded to include a much larger piece of showjumping. All of the horses were gorgeous and talented, but really there was only one I was crossing my fingers and toes in hope of meeting. When I finally saw him up close in the warm-up ring, I almost felt that I should kneel in reverence or something. But instead I just stood there, trembling in awe, taking in Hickstead raw and awesome power. Finally I was close to the horse who had truly inspired me. Unfortunatly, they did not win the CN International that year, as Eric was saving himself for WEG and trying not to rebreak his then injured foot, but they put on a great show, Hickstead clearing the massive oxer at the end of the course with room to spare.

A picture I took of Hickstead and Eric in the Cana Cup while I was at Spruce Meadows

    After my time at Spruce Meadows, I began following showjumping more, especially Hickstead and Eric. I rejoiced at their successes at WEG, and followed them across the tournaments in Europe, right up until he was back on home turf, at the Masters Tournament. Unfortunately I was not able to attend it, but I was glues to what I could see of it on CBC. I could barely watch the last round, when he tacked an extremely difficult course and, and completed it successfully, even while losing a shoe mid-round. I feel extremely blessed to have been able to witness Hickstead's last win on Canadian soil.

Hickstead and Eric at WEG in Kentucky, 2010

Eric cherishing his and Hickstead's final win on Canadian soil. 

Eric thanking Hickstead after their win at the CN International 2011

    Hickstead was a champion, through and though, and it was obvious, even from his unruly beginning. However, Eric found a way to channel Hickstead's greatness, and they became a partnership so great it is unlikely to see another one of that magnitude for a very long time. It has been said that for a rider there is only one horse, and for a horse there is only one rider, and this could not ring any truer than for Eric and Hickstead. They were made for each other, and Eric was just the right key to unlock all of Hickstead's potential.

    I am still reeling from the shock of what happened, but I am comforted by the fact that Hickstead achieved what I believe he was destined to. He became the best in the world, uniting a nation into hoping and praying for him in the Olympics, and inspired a lowly wannabe to reach out and make something of myself. Hickstead, no matter how much I am ridiculed for crying for you and told you were "just a horse", I will always know you were so much more than that. You changed my life. You were the best horse in the world, and you will forever live on in my heart and the hearts of many other Canadians who loved you just as much as I. So take those invisible wings and fly home, my boy.