Take the time
in this busy season
to hang out
with family
and friends,
to relax, recharge
and prepare
for a new year
filled with
infinite promise.

Happy Holidays!

One of the exercises I focused on when riding Ichobod recently involved sending him straight forward into pretty strong left-rein contact to get him connected enough on that side to release and stretch into my hand. Compress, compress, compress, loading the spring by lifting his back and asking him to push from behind into a firm hand. Then the magic connection happens and that loaded spring expands into an exquisitely balanced, elongated, elastic spine. It was the same exercise I coached a student through recently on her lovely Azteca mare, who is finally supple enough to actually start to telescope her heretofore stubby neck. And the student has developed enough feel and a stable enough seat to load the spring and soften just right when that release happens. Contact and connection in that fascinating and frustrating balancing act.

When I was done with my ride and cooling out, I got to thinking what a paradox correct riding presents. I know from my own journey of learning and from working with students in many disciplines how many of the basic skills are completely counterintuitive. How nuts must it seem to novice riders that they have to compress in order to lengthen? Maybe if they are students of muscle physiology, it’s completely understandable. But for the rest of is, it was hard to make that connection – mentally and physically.

Let’s see, what other paradoxes can we present? How about the way bending and lateral work are so imperative in creating straightness. Or how you need to shift the horse’s weight back in order to send him forward in balance? Geez, no wonder it takes so long to learn to ride. I’ve been at it for (don’t tell anyone!) 42 years, and I feel like I’m just starting to have a meaningful and useful understanding of the physical process in the horse and the human.

Along the way I’ve had a whole string of “ah, ha!” moments, some of which I remember vividly even decades later. One of those was the day a very hard-working dressage clinician (who had bravely agreed to teach a bunch of western riders!) instilled in me the importance and correct application of the outside rein. What? I have to keep my outside rein solid, solid, solid to pursuade my chunky quarter horse mare to soften and stretch into my inside rein? Mind-blowing stuff to someone who had pretty much only ridden made horses that neck-reined with micro-pressure.

So, what was your biggest counter-intuitive challenge – the riding or groundwork concept that made (or still makes!) your brain feel like it’s twisting inside out when you apply it?

Appears it might be circle-the-wagons time again for a certain group of people (who shall remain nameless) who spend their time and talents helping horses feel better in their bodies and providing valuable information for horse owners who choose a broad approach to managing the health and welfare of their animals.

Seems like one of our local veterinarians is once again on a mission to make the world safe from bodyworkers, chiropractors and the like who don’t also happen to have “DVM” as one of their credentials. These periodic witch hunts are now possible in most states, where the various veterinary boards have put in place ludicrously broad regulations that leave room for interpretations that would make it illegal for a professional even to touch a client’s horse.

For example, in Arizona, “a person shall be regarded as practicing veterinary medicine” if he does the following:

•    Perform any operation or manipulation on or apply any apparatus or appliance to any animal.

•    Give an instruction or demonstration for the cure, amelioration, correction or reduction or modification of any animal condition, disease, deformity, defect, wound or injury.

So, what if I, as a paid trainer, put a martingale or a therapeutic saddle pad on a horse I’m riding? The statute doesn’t define what constitutes an apparatus, so is that illegal? What if I were to show one of my students how to bandage a wound on her horse? That’s clearly meant to cure or ameliorate a wound or injury, so illegal, right? What about the client I teach who is learning to ride in a way that is helping her horse remodel a neck misalignment he has had since he was a foal? That’s meant to correct or reduce a deformity, so it could fall within the activities considered “practicing veterinary medicine.”

Look out folks! By the strictest reading of this ridiculous statute, I appear to have embarked on a life of crime. (I think I’m in pretty good company, though. Farriers, equine dentists, rehabbers, bodyworkers, trainers – quite a group.)

What a relief for the poor, stupid horse owners of Arizona that there are licensed professionals out there looking out for them by limiting their ability to choose how they care for their horses. The vet who is reportedly leading the charge this time seems to be well known for this kind of activity. I was warned about her when I first moved back to Arizona, told that she had been known to recommend her clients have a chiropractor or massage therapist work on their horses, then turn around and report the practitioner to the vet board. Nice, huh?

I once had the dubious pleasure of hearing this person expound at length on the benevolence of the state vet board, which according to her seeks only to protect horse owners and horses. No, of course they aren’t serving the fiscal wants and needs of their members, the veterinarians. They are there but to provide a vital public service. Bollocks!

I’m a bit of a contrarian by nature, and was raised to question authority – not defy it, but definitely not to accept something as fact just because the person saying it wears a uniform or has some credential that may or may not be relevant to the situation. So don’t tell me what I can and can’t do for the welfare of my horse. And don’t limit my choices of care to only what vets in traditional practice know and do. They know what they know, but they aren’t and cannot be experts in everything. And there simply aren’t enough of them who are good at these alternative modalities to go around.

I applaud all those veterinarians who have become attracted to study and apply one or more of the fascinating healing modalities that so adeptly complement traditional veterinary knowledge and practice. Moving beyond their vet-school training, these open-minded people seek to broaden their knowledge, deepen their understanding of the holistic nature of healing and provide their clients with valuable options for the wellness and treatment of their precious animals.

The first equine chiropractor I ever met was a veterinarian, and she was fabulous. She didn’t really fit the traditional model, though, with a practice focused on acupuncture and chiropractic way before these had really hit the mainstream. She was, I believe, both a veterinarian and a healer – a rare and precious thing, especially 20 years ago.

What I have seen too much of in the past decade, though, have been veterinarians who seemed to me to take up the non-traditional modalities grudgingly and only with an eye on the profit margin. They don’t really “believe in” the therapy, but their clients are requesting it and they don’t want to lose dollars to someone else. So, with minimal training, a shallow understanding of the modality and little belief in its efficacy, they are not providing even adequate therapeutic benefit.

What these people fail to understand is that horse owners like me really, really want to know their animals are being cared for by a professional they can really trust, someone who is mature and secure enough to admit he doesn’t know everything, intellectually curious and open-minded enough to explore and learn new things, and knowledgeable enough to refer out to other practitioners who are skilled at those things the vet is neither trained to do nor cares to learn.

This whole protectionist bent among vets is both small-minded and financially unsound. Let’s face it, if my vet can’t help my horse but can hook me up with someone who can, the vet is a hero! And, I’ll tell all my horse-owning friends that, over and over for years to come. That more than makes up for whatever dollars I spend with the other practitioner. The vet who pretends to know all while failing to help my horse will also be the topic of my conversations among horse people – to the detriment of his practice. Seems like a simple choice.

But still there are vets out there who refuse to face the modern reality that many of their clients are educated about and interested in a wide range of healing approaches they truly believe could benefit their horses. A person whose own body experiences relief from a chiropractic treatment or a therapeutic massage will logically expect the same might be true for a horse. And the vets who disrespect their clients’ knowledge and seek to limit their choices are, I believe, both morally wrong and ethically inappropriate. Not to mention, that whole “for the good of the horse” thing. To me, that is the only bottom line that counts.

If you’re curious about what the veterinarians have influenced your state government to regulate, search the web for your state veterinary board or state veterinary practices act. For a brief overview of all the states, check out this link.

“You know, to do this kind of groundwork, you have to be pretty self-confident,” one of my clients said to me as she was leading her lovely white mare in smooth serpentines around the ring, making minute adjustments to release the horse’s jaw, free up her shoulder and induce her to lift her ample barrel to engage her equally ample hindquarters.

“Huh?” I responded.

Yes, you too can walk funny while encouraging your horse to stretch her topline and step through!

“Just look at me,” she said with a laugh. Her mare was stretching her topline long and dropping her head, and her handler was adapting by bending her knees and doing a kind of crab walk that kept her body aligned and balanced while she supported her horse’s postural experimentation.

Really? Not everyone would feel comfortable out in public at a traditional equine venue doing very non-traditional work? One of those “Duh!” moments, for sure.

My client was right, of course. I’ve been doing unusual exercises with my horses and my clients for so long now, that I forget sometimes how strong is the urge to conform, to do what the other people are doing in the way they are doing it (and often wearing the same clothes and using the same gear.)

I’ve been “the crazy woman” for so long, it’s now my “normal!”

And I’m okay with that, mostly because the biomechanics-based groundwork I do and teach has created such amazing results for horses and their humans. Most people who see and experience these ground exercises do admit their efficacy. Many are amazed at what they can feel and experience with a horse just by taking a different approach to contact and connection. And a few find themselves hopelessly fascinated and realize their interactions with horses will never again be the same.

I’d love to switch that around so that most were fascinated just like I was after my very first clinic experience with Connected Groundwork, which is the backbone of much of my groundwork. Honestly, I’ve never really understood why more people don’t make that leap of faith and start experimenting with different ways to help horses feel better in their bodies.

Not that there aren’t a number of perfectly good training methods that aim to get to the same place, and I don’t really expect everyone to be interested in what I am. But there’s still way too much “same old, same old” going on. Like the guy who recently bragged to me that he’d used a tractor to pull his young horse into a trailer. He honestly seemed proud of the way he’d solved the problem of the horse he hadn’t taken the time to trailer train. Brute force is old news, guys. Been there, done that.

Continuing her very non-conforming crab-like walk, my wise client also noted, “That confidence issue is probably why most of your client aren’t teens and twenty-somethings. Most of them are still focused on fitting in with the crowd.”

I think she’s on to something. Most of the people who have become real converts to the type of ground and mounted work I do and teach have been mature men and women who either have actually been there and done that with other methods and are seeking alternatives, or who are just starting or returning to horse interactions with a focus on relationship and mutual enjoyment.

One notable exception was a lovely 16-year-old girl who took to the ground exercises like she had invented them herself. But she was a rare one, for sure. I’ve taught basic leading and ground exercises to a lot of young people over the years, but most of them only did them in lesson settings. And a few protested they were “boring.”  I don’t get it. Really. I’m endlessly fascinated by “asking” horses’ bodies balance questions and guiding them to the answers that make them feel the best.

So thanks to all of you who have the trust, the adventurous spirit and the confidence to come along with me on the miles and miles of S-turns and spirals, intentionally doing whatever contortions are helpful to your horse’s long-term balance and comfort. And to everyone else, an open invitation to come and play with us. Don’t worry. You’ll know us when you see us!

Not sure what in the world I’m talking about? Find more information here.

In my quest to develop robust interaction here in the ManeStream, from time to time I’ll post photos or videos and pose a question for readers to ponder and discuss. All the ManeStream Quiz entries will be about (surprise!) the finer points of horse and/or rider biomechanics. I hope you’ll all join in!

For the first installment, here are two pictures of a horse at the walk. We’re evaluating based on “pure” biomechanics – what is the optimum for this horse’s best performance and longterm soundness – not some artificial showring silhouette. No false frames here!

So, in your opinion, which of this photos shows the best carriage. Why?

Walk Photo A

Walk Photo B

(Remember, be nice. This is somebody’s beloved horse, so please answer in the spirit of constructive criticism. The rider in this case is me, so feel free to critique if you like.)

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon helping a client do some saddle fitting. Reminded me why I ride English.

Recipe for a tired human: heave four western saddles into pickup … lug four western saddles out of pickup and sling onto hitch rail … place one saddle gently onto horse’s back to check fit … hmmm, not bad … place second saddle on horse’s back … nope, no good … place third saddle on horse’s back … better, but needs different padding … take off saddle, change padding, replace  … repeat … repeat. … watch owner ride horse in saddle … remove saddle … place fourth saddle on horse … nope, no good … replace first saddle … change padding, replace … repeat … repeat … repeat … heave saddles back into pickup and drive to where I borrowed them and haul them all the way around the house and barn and replace in tack room. Whew!

Yes, the owner has vital info. on a saddle that fit his horse nicely (he just needs the version two inches bigger for himself) and a padding system that makes his current saddle passable until he finds one that fits both. But, what a process. Yikes!

Clipart courtesy Daily ClipArt

I just love teaching adult beginners to work with horses. Their sense of awe and wonder at things that are part of my everyday life and work really keeps me seeing with fresh eyes. Everyday interactions with my horses can’t become mundane when students are finding so much to captivate them.

Novice horse enthusiasts have a whole new language to learn when they come to work with the four-legged teachers. For anyone who has spent years at a desk hunched over a computer, getting back in touch with your own body is quite an adventure. Add the horse, the master of body language into the mix, and the lessons are endlessly varied and quite fascinating. And even people whose lives and work keep them in touch with the physical can find insights and new depths in the incredible subtlety of horse speak.

The path from being afraid of horses to riding competently can be enlightening and empowering.

What, you mean the horse will respond to my tone of voice or energy level? And respectful requests are generally met with more patience and compliance than demands? And when I get my intention aligned with my posture and movement, the horse seems almost to read my mind? Cool!

When grown-ups can come to a new activity with open minds and open hearts, allowing themselves to explore and enjoy new ideas and experiences, they gain so much. Let’s face it, by the time we’re adults, most of us have mastered the skills we need in our everyday lives – or at least learned to fake it well enough to get by just fine. We do our jobs, we manage our households, we participate in our relationships, and we run the risk of becoming stale and stuck.

Taking a break from all that familiar competency to spend time in the “beginner’s mind” can be very freeing. Really, how long has it been since you tried something you were bad at, just because you had never done it before? What did you gain by taking the time to study and practice and get better? Even if you didn’t ever really master the skill, or you decided it wasn’t quite the thing for you, wasn’t just doing it was good for you on many levels?

I do think that lifelong learning keeps us young and interesting and keeps those synapses from going all stale and mushy. Brain cells are like muscles, once you get to a certain age. Use them or lose them! So bravo to all the adult beginners out there, being brave and adventurous enough to explore the wonderous world of horses.

I’m fortunate to be able to work with many of my clients and their horses at their own homes. That means I get to do a bit of driving, much of which is on the outskirts of Tucson. But on Tuesdays, I get the scenic tour — Sonoita, Elgin and Rain Valley.

The 5,000-foot elevation and miles of rolling grasslands remind me of northeastern Colorado, where I grew up. This time of year, the wind wafts golden tufts and the afternoon sun paints the mountains pink and purple. What a lovely place to work!

I have been thinking about launching a blog for the past couple of years, but somehow other projects have taken precedence – website, clinics, newsletter, articles. But I have been longing for a place for to record and discuss those random and interesting tidbits that float around in my head while I drive between appointments. “I wonder whether anyone else has ever noticed …” or “Did you ever see a horse do …”

I have come to a realization, though, while indulging my creative muse to stockpile some shortish writings on thoughts and insights that aren’t suitable for expanding into a full-fledged article. When it comes right down to it, I seem to have this little problem writing short pieces. I aim for four or five paragraphs, and end up with an essay instead.

Blame it on all the years of counting words back when I was a print journalist and space was limited to whatever the marketing department couldn’t fill. Writing those pithy sentences and constructing perfect paragraphs, then inevitably cutting bits (or even hacking out whole painstakingly crafted sections) to fit into the shrinking spaces between the ads. And that was back in the days before word-processing programs counted the words for you. (Yes, I am that old.)

So, I do enjoy the indulgence of the internet, the feeling of infinite space. And color doesn’t cost extra. Oh, the luxury. Guess that means readers will have to put up with my blog in long form, at least part of the time. Extra points to those of you who actually read to the end. I’ll try to make it worth your while!

What I am looking forward to is the opportunity for people to interact, to comment and converse and generally come together to consider the topics I find interesting and important and entertaining. Please, do comment and opine and generally consider this an open invitation to speak your piece. Without that, I’m really just sitting here talking to myself … even though I’m not counting the words.