A small miracle occurred today. Since the day he came into my life, Sammie has always had trouble with farriers. He dislikes them intensely and nobody could manage to shoe his hinds without a great deal of doping or a knock out injection.
His problem wasn’t helped by his hind foot problem which resulted in an operation in 2006. I can’t describe the hell he went through and how he nearly gave up. I’ll never know how he came through it all but he did and he was still prepared to try and trust.
After the operation the only way to shoe him was with the Vet giving him an injection so he was hardly able to stand up. This happened every five weeks for some time. It wasn’t the cost that made me feel ill every time, it was the whole awful process.
After about 10 months of doing it this way, the Vet agreed that we could try him with Sedalin. The farrier disagreed. I don’t blame any farrier for not wanting to take on a difficult horse, so I had to find an alternative.
I eventually found a farrier that would work with me and my clicker training ways; a very patient man who seemed to have all the time in the world. He instantly recognised that Sammie’s problem was pure fear rather than him being “aggressive and difficult.”
I had to hold the hind feet for him while he did his job (not at all easy for either of us) and Sammie got rewarded with a click and treat for good behaviour. Sammie just wouldn’t let the farrier pick up his hinds, no matter which way we tried to do it.
Over the months I gradually reduced the amount of Sedalin. We had a few set backs and Sammie was still showing signs of fear, but we were getting somewhere. My friend (Max’s owner) was also coming across to do the click and treat at the front end which was an enormous help and comfort.
On this special day, I asked the farrier if he would mind just trying to pick up a hind foot and put it down again. He had the option to say “No” if he didn’t feel safe. He picked the left hind up with my friend and me at the front end treating Sammie with pony nuts like crazy. Then he continued to remove the shoe, trim the foot and put a shoe back on. No problem. Sammie didn’t flinch or kick out once (he has managed to kick out under a knock out injection before) - truly amazing!!
I asked the farrier how he felt and he said that he didn’t really feel in any danger at all. Then we made the mistake of tackling the right hind and that proved to be a step too far for Sammie. Why do us humans always try and push things? So we went back to me holding the foot. But we still achieved something truly fantastic. Sammie was only on a few mils of Sedalin – he was most certainly awake enough to give the farrier hell if he had chosen to.
I was gobsmacked (and I still am to a certain extent.) I’m just hoping that we can now build on this progress. It’s taken time, effort and patience, but it seems to be paying off. As I said before, Sammie really makes you earn his trust and this is a perfect example.
Something or a series of horrible things has obviously happened to Sammie with farriers before we partnered up, but if we can keep taking these small steps then one day he might just learn that he can’t tar all farriers with the same brush.
Monday, 31 March 2008
Sunday, 2 March 2008
Rev me up!
Over the last few months I’ve discovered there is a tipping point with Sammie when we’re long lining or riding. My instructor calls it “Getting him to bubble.” It’s not done through antagonising him or being harsh with him in any shape or form, it’s getting him revved up so he is almost doing the next thing before you ask for it.
It’s very hard to explain and I guess it’s different with each horse, but I just know when he’s ready and it’s been a real eye opener for me. It seems to come from using my voice and my body in a certain way. I grow tall and lift myself (whether I’m on the ground or on board) and I encourage him with the tone of my voice. Using the sound of his name seems to have an effect as well.
I feel his body puff up, he grows a bit and I have every bit of his attention. It’s like he’s excited without the distracting side effects that often come with an excited horse.
I first felt it in my early lessons with my new instructor. She kept saying “He’s bubbling, he’s bubbling. Ask him now.” However, instead of going into action, I just sat there wondering what on earth was going on underneath me as I’d never felt anything like it before! It’s a good job my instructor had endless patience in those early days.
And now I think I’ve started to create the same effect while we’re long lining too. It’s only been a couple of sessions but we’ve managed walk to canter in a very controlled fashion. Again, I have to rev him up and his body tells me he’s ready. I’ve known this horse long enough now to know that if he really doesn’t want to do something he won’t, so I guess I must be getting something right.
I don’t think a lot of horses need to go through this stage, but with Sammie it’s like he is agreeing with me, “Yep, I’m ready. I’m warmed up. I know what you want. Let’s do it!” I guess it’s feel, pure and simple. It can’t be timed or processed; it’s just us working together, with Sammie providing the feedback. There’s no force, no punishment – just communication and agreement.
I just wish I’d had somebody to show me all this stuff years ago. Sammie used to be a horse that didn’t really move at all in the school and if he did, it was with the least amount of effort possible. And who can blame him after the life he’d had? Now, a touch of the leg and we’re off. The problem I often have now is slowing him down!
It’s very hard to explain and I guess it’s different with each horse, but I just know when he’s ready and it’s been a real eye opener for me. It seems to come from using my voice and my body in a certain way. I grow tall and lift myself (whether I’m on the ground or on board) and I encourage him with the tone of my voice. Using the sound of his name seems to have an effect as well.
I feel his body puff up, he grows a bit and I have every bit of his attention. It’s like he’s excited without the distracting side effects that often come with an excited horse.
I first felt it in my early lessons with my new instructor. She kept saying “He’s bubbling, he’s bubbling. Ask him now.” However, instead of going into action, I just sat there wondering what on earth was going on underneath me as I’d never felt anything like it before! It’s a good job my instructor had endless patience in those early days.
And now I think I’ve started to create the same effect while we’re long lining too. It’s only been a couple of sessions but we’ve managed walk to canter in a very controlled fashion. Again, I have to rev him up and his body tells me he’s ready. I’ve known this horse long enough now to know that if he really doesn’t want to do something he won’t, so I guess I must be getting something right.
I don’t think a lot of horses need to go through this stage, but with Sammie it’s like he is agreeing with me, “Yep, I’m ready. I’m warmed up. I know what you want. Let’s do it!” I guess it’s feel, pure and simple. It can’t be timed or processed; it’s just us working together, with Sammie providing the feedback. There’s no force, no punishment – just communication and agreement.
I just wish I’d had somebody to show me all this stuff years ago. Sammie used to be a horse that didn’t really move at all in the school and if he did, it was with the least amount of effort possible. And who can blame him after the life he’d had? Now, a touch of the leg and we’re off. The problem I often have now is slowing him down!
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Just lazin' around
There used to be a time when Sammie didn’t find it very easy to relax and unwind, but over the last three or fours years he’s developed a great liking for it and it’s a lovely thing to see. Today when I went up to the field to collect him for a ride out in the sunshine he was lying there, soaking up the Springtime rays being watched over by his surrogate mother.
When I entered the field there was no sign that he had any intention of getting up and when I walked up to him he flopped his head down onto the grass and squinted at me out the corner of his eye.
“You wanna go somewhere huh? You got plans? Yeah well you’re lucky. I’ve just finished my snooze and if you hang on a minute…ooh, aah, oooh, there you go, I’m up an’ ready Ma’am. Quick shake, yep, I’m definitely ready.”
He still had his sleepy head on as we ambled back down to the yard together but he soon woke up when he found a juicy load of hay waiting for him. I just love the fact that he now feels safe and relaxed enough to take the weight off his feet, especially with one of the kindest mares you’ll ever meet watching over him.
When I entered the field there was no sign that he had any intention of getting up and when I walked up to him he flopped his head down onto the grass and squinted at me out the corner of his eye.
“You wanna go somewhere huh? You got plans? Yeah well you’re lucky. I’ve just finished my snooze and if you hang on a minute…ooh, aah, oooh, there you go, I’m up an’ ready Ma’am. Quick shake, yep, I’m definitely ready.”
He still had his sleepy head on as we ambled back down to the yard together but he soon woke up when he found a juicy load of hay waiting for him. I just love the fact that he now feels safe and relaxed enough to take the weight off his feet, especially with one of the kindest mares you’ll ever meet watching over him.
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
It's TV, but not as we know it
We’ve decided that tying Sammie up at the end of the barn so he can look out over the gate and view the countryside beyond, is the equivalent of putting a human in front of the TV. I reckon his nightly viewing must be the equivalent of a good old Soap, the local news, a scary movie and a wildlife programme all rolled into one.
Every evening I normally tie him up there while I get his bed, hay and water supply sorted for the night. He’s just as happy as a sandboy, standing there gazing out seeing all sorts of things that we just don’t see.
He snorts the odd alert “Well I never! What a nerve! Would ya believe it!” His ears strain forwards at the slightest sound or rustle “Who goes there? What you doin’? You just watch it pal!”
None of the other horses pay much attention except the Dutch Warmblood in the end box. “What is it? Oooh should I be scared! Tell me, tell me!” “Nah”, says Sammie, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. You foreign horses just don’t understand the ways of the countryside like us Irish natives.”
Whatever lurks out there will keep him amused, amazed and shocked for anything up to an hour. As soon as I approach and ask if he’s ready for bed, he turns his head to look at me and takes a step back. “Yep, I think I’m about done here. I’ve put out the necessary warnings and I don’t think they’ll be anything bothering us tonight.”
Where would the yard be without Sammie Soldier making sure that all was right with the world before turning in for the night?
Every evening I normally tie him up there while I get his bed, hay and water supply sorted for the night. He’s just as happy as a sandboy, standing there gazing out seeing all sorts of things that we just don’t see.
He snorts the odd alert “Well I never! What a nerve! Would ya believe it!” His ears strain forwards at the slightest sound or rustle “Who goes there? What you doin’? You just watch it pal!”
None of the other horses pay much attention except the Dutch Warmblood in the end box. “What is it? Oooh should I be scared! Tell me, tell me!” “Nah”, says Sammie, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. You foreign horses just don’t understand the ways of the countryside like us Irish natives.”
Whatever lurks out there will keep him amused, amazed and shocked for anything up to an hour. As soon as I approach and ask if he’s ready for bed, he turns his head to look at me and takes a step back. “Yep, I think I’m about done here. I’ve put out the necessary warnings and I don’t think they’ll be anything bothering us tonight.”
Where would the yard be without Sammie Soldier making sure that all was right with the world before turning in for the night?
Worms and pitchforks
Well today was a double whammy for Sammie Soldier and it made me realise just how much he has learnt to trust over the last couple of years or so.
First of all it was worming time. This used to be a time when Sammie would spy the syringe, run to the back of his stable, turn his rather ample behind on me and menacingly swish his tail (whilst spying on me out the corner of his eye) He could out manoeuvre anyone at that stage. You move to get round him, he moves to block you. Get too close and you get a real ugly face and an even bigger swish of the tail - enough to put off the bravest human!
Today it was head over the door watching me get the syringe out of it's casing, headcollar on, syringe presented, a few bobs of the head "No, no, no. Oh ok then", and bob's your uncle it was in there, over and done with. There was much sucking and chewing plus a look of general disgust on his face, but nothing worse than that and certainly no attempt to run away. White lipstick? "Hey, I think I look rather cool!"
We also, by pure accident, had two sessions in his stable with wheelbarrow and pitchfork. The first time was this morning. I was running late, he was eating his breakfast. I tried to tie him at the end of the barn to finish it off, but that is the equivalent of letting a child watch TV when you want them to finish their meal. He just can't concentrate as there is just so much to keep an eye on out there. One mouthful, then it's head up for a good old 'stand and stare' (with the odd snort) "Ooh, now what else was I supposed to be doing?"
So to fit in with the turnout brigade I put him back in his box and decided to give mucking out a go. He's in a large foaling box now so there's much more room for both of us. He wasn't bothered in the slightest. He kept an eye on me but was not threatened at all. Before you only had to approach the stable with a pitchfork and you would be risking life and limb, he simply wouldn't tolerate it. He never harmed me, but there were enough scary warnings to make you think maybe it wasn't worth pushing your luck.
Then this evening, I was running late again. He was very busy with his evening hay and he looked so happy I didn't want to take him away from it. So in I went, wheelbarrow piled with straw and a pitchfork balancing on top. He gave me a snort and a sigh but that was about it. I chucked the clean straw all over the place and around his legs and he couldn't have been less bothered. There was no way I would have attempted any of this a few years ago, especially if he was eating!
It struck me that there hasn't been a sudden turnaround moment with this type of thing. It's developed over the years (he's been with me for 7 years now) but especially so over the last couple of years (along with the introduction of clicker training). It's all to do with trust and boy, does this horse make you earn his trust! It's so easy to forget how far we've come, but it's times like this when I realise that we have made progress, even if it has taken a long, long time. We're certainly no where near the end of our journey together but I guess his world must be a far better place than it used to be.
First of all it was worming time. This used to be a time when Sammie would spy the syringe, run to the back of his stable, turn his rather ample behind on me and menacingly swish his tail (whilst spying on me out the corner of his eye) He could out manoeuvre anyone at that stage. You move to get round him, he moves to block you. Get too close and you get a real ugly face and an even bigger swish of the tail - enough to put off the bravest human!
Today it was head over the door watching me get the syringe out of it's casing, headcollar on, syringe presented, a few bobs of the head "No, no, no. Oh ok then", and bob's your uncle it was in there, over and done with. There was much sucking and chewing plus a look of general disgust on his face, but nothing worse than that and certainly no attempt to run away. White lipstick? "Hey, I think I look rather cool!"
We also, by pure accident, had two sessions in his stable with wheelbarrow and pitchfork. The first time was this morning. I was running late, he was eating his breakfast. I tried to tie him at the end of the barn to finish it off, but that is the equivalent of letting a child watch TV when you want them to finish their meal. He just can't concentrate as there is just so much to keep an eye on out there. One mouthful, then it's head up for a good old 'stand and stare' (with the odd snort) "Ooh, now what else was I supposed to be doing?"
So to fit in with the turnout brigade I put him back in his box and decided to give mucking out a go. He's in a large foaling box now so there's much more room for both of us. He wasn't bothered in the slightest. He kept an eye on me but was not threatened at all. Before you only had to approach the stable with a pitchfork and you would be risking life and limb, he simply wouldn't tolerate it. He never harmed me, but there were enough scary warnings to make you think maybe it wasn't worth pushing your luck.
Then this evening, I was running late again. He was very busy with his evening hay and he looked so happy I didn't want to take him away from it. So in I went, wheelbarrow piled with straw and a pitchfork balancing on top. He gave me a snort and a sigh but that was about it. I chucked the clean straw all over the place and around his legs and he couldn't have been less bothered. There was no way I would have attempted any of this a few years ago, especially if he was eating!
It struck me that there hasn't been a sudden turnaround moment with this type of thing. It's developed over the years (he's been with me for 7 years now) but especially so over the last couple of years (along with the introduction of clicker training). It's all to do with trust and boy, does this horse make you earn his trust! It's so easy to forget how far we've come, but it's times like this when I realise that we have made progress, even if it has taken a long, long time. We're certainly no where near the end of our journey together but I guess his world must be a far better place than it used to be.
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