by penny | Jul 11, 2021 | The Horsey Life
Best First Horse Ever
I celebrated a monumental occasion yesterday. 50 years ago, July 10, 1971, I got my first horse. I was 12, and a total horse addict. All of my Scholastic Books orders contained horse books. I had read every horse book in both the school and town library by the time I was in 5th or 6th grade. It was clear to my parents that this was not something I was going to outgrow.
Unbeknownst to me, my Dad had been driving around rural northwest Connecticut on his lunch breaks looking for a horse for me. One day in July, 1971, he stopped by a dealer’s farm and happened to notice a bay mare (although he wouldn’t have been able to name the color or the gender at that time). He spoke with the dealer and made arrangements for us to go try out the horse that Saturday. I was over the moon excited!
When we got to the yard, the dealer asked me a few questions:
Dealer: Do you ride English or Western? (Read – let me start working on my sales spiel)
Me: English
Dealer: Have you ridden much? (Are you likely to get killed by the horse if I let you ride her?)
Me: I can walk and trot and I’m in 4-H and want to ride in horse shows.
Dealer: This horse is going to be perfect for you!! She was owned by a girl who showed her in 4-H shows until she went off to college and had to find a new home for her.
The truth, we discovered much later, was that this horse arrived on a box car from Montana just a week or so before I went to try her.
The $400 was paid, and my horse was to come home in just a few days once we had everything ready for her. Like fencing. And shelter…
Neighbors of ours whose horse I had been riding, had an extra stall, and that’s where she spent her first few nights as my horse. My Dad, being of Irish decent and Scottish birth, suggested her name should be O’Malley, due to the OM brand on her left flank.
My Dad and I spent the next couple of days mowing the field, and putting up 1 strand of electric fence to surround it. Dad had already begun construction of a small barn to store his outdoor tools, and half of the 10’ x 20’ structure became O’Malley’s stall.
O’Malley was a wonderful first horse. She loved life in general.
- She went English beautifully. (I was ignorant enough not to realize that this could have been a problem).
- She went to horse shows – in the back of a pickup truck! We didn’t have a trailer, so we went to show with friends of my Mom’s. They put a wooden rack (for lack of a better description) on the back of their pickup, had a makeshift ramp, which she’d go right up and then stand trying to peek over the sides. (I was ignorant enough not to realize that this could have been a really BIG problem!)
- She LOVED trail riding and jumping cross country. We used to climb the Appalachian Trail which went up the side of a mountain a little way from our house. There was a State Forest at the top, and we poddled our way through it. Mostly on trails, sometimes through brush.
- She had very good horse sense. More than once on one of our mountain poddling adventures, (mostly when we were bush whacking), I’d lose track of where I was; but I never felt desperate or afraid. I knew (in general) which way our house was, and if I wasn’t sure I’d just let O’Malley choose the way home. We made it every time. And usually before dark. (Did I mention I was doing this at age 12 all by myself? Yeah – those were the days…)
- She was safe as houses. When I was a freshman in High School, our VoAg (Vocational Agriculture) department had an open day, and I got to bring my horse. But, we still didn’t have a trailer… So, I got to miss classes on a Friday to ride my horse the 12 or so miles to school. Fortunately, she didn’t object to the enclosure we made for her out of farm gates under an overhang of the building (possibly due to the amount of hay I gave her…) The plan was for her to stay overnight, be ready for the open house on the Saturday morning, and then we’d ride back home on the Saturday afternoon. Until it snowed… All in all, I believe she spent 2 or 3 nights at school, and never once tried to escape from her little covered corral.
The list of her positive traits was long, but there were a few she had that drove me nuts.
- She hated to be inside. The barn my Dad and I built didn’t have a door, just an opening where we were going to (eventually) put a door. O’Malley loved the whole no-door experience. Which was fine… except for the night before I was going to a horse show and I was trying to keep her as clean as I could. I used all sorts of barricades that I thought would work… Invariably, I’d get up at 6 only to find that she not only had gotten out, but had also rolled. Oh, and she didn’t particularly want to be caught, thank you very much. We only ever missed one show. She refused to load in the trailer that someone was picking her up in. She planted her feet and that was kind of it (despite royally pissing off the person trying to load her.) When the royally pissed off person kicked her in the stomach, I took the lead rope and took her back to the field. I didn’t want to show that badly…
- Oh, remember that horse sense? Yeah, there was a shadow side to that. We had an electric fence that made a steady tick – tick – tick noise. And it never took her more than 10 minutes or so to realize that there was no ticking, and she’d immediately escape.
- And the difficult to catch issue? She knew when I went to catch her after school that I was going to ride her, so she became rather difficult to catch. I can’t remember the number of times my Mom would come home from work, and O’Malley would be at the fence before Mom even came in the driveway. O’Malley knew the sound of the car, and that my Mom always brought her carrots. (The easiest way to a horse’s heart…).
As I mentioned earlier, O’Malley had an OM brand on her flank. It just so happened that a person who worked with my Mom (the wife of the man with the pick up with the rack), had an old brand book. Just on a whim, she looked up O’Malley’s brand – and it was listed!! I was so excited!
I wrote down the address (on the Montana/North Dakota border) and went home wrote a letter (it was 1976 at that point – pen and paper were still a thing). I could not believe it when I received a reply a week or so later. They had bred O’Malley, and still had her Quarter Horse dam Lady, although her Arabian sire had been killed by lightning a few years before. They sent pictures and we began communicating. The summer between my junior and senior years in High School, my parents and I travelled in their motor home out to visit the Moe’s and see where O’Malley had started her life.
We were welcomed into the family, and I got to ride Lady on a roundup 2 days after we arrived. Fortunately, I had been getting O’Malley and myself fit for a Pony Club rally, so I’d been spending quite a bit of time riding. But not in a Western saddle… Let’s just say it was a long (and amazing) day. Lady decided to go after a stray cow at one point. I figured she probably knew what she was doing better than I was! Once Lady was satisfied with getting the cow going in the right direction, I looked around and couldn’t see anyone. Which is kind of scary when you’re riding a horse in an area called the Badlands. But I figured O’Malley had to get her horse sense from someone, so I let Lady choose the way and we were back together with the main group within about 5 minutes. (5 looong minutes!) .
I should probably close now. I could keep telling stories about O’Mally for hours. It’s hard to believe that that horse that “a college girl rode English in horse shows” turned out t be a much better horse than that dealer could even imagine.
by penny | Jun 14, 2021 | The Horsey Life
Can you hear me now?
If you’re like me, you’ve got a constant conversation running through your mind. (Please tell me it’s not just me!) From things I need to do to hoping it’s going to rain to making sure I bring a mask when I clip Laddie (yup, I’m allergic to horses…) – it’s a wonder I even have time to speak with other people, much less the mental bandwidth!
The main trouble with this is that, in being buried in our own ramblings, we sometimes don’t engage fully when we’re speaking with someone. We’ve all had times when we tune out of a conversation and start thinking about what to cook for dinner, then suddenly realize the person we’re speaking with has paused and is expecting an answer, right? Awkward! Sometimes it works the other way, where you start a conversation only to have your mind hijacked and taken down the nearest rabbit hole, leaving the other person backing away quietly and glancing around for the nearest exit.
Now, consider your conversations with your horse. It’s likely you are doing most of the “talking”, either with words, body language, (or peppermints), but are you sure your horse is understanding? Since we’re the more highly “evolved” being (don’t get me started on why I prefer most horses to a fair amount of people…), it’s up to us to make sure we are being understood. As I mentioned in the last post, first you need to become self-aware and understand yourself before you can expect to be understood by your horse.
Listen to learn, talk to teach.
That was one of my Dad’s favorite expressions (along with “A good teacher answers the questions, a good student questions the answers.” My Dad was brilliant.) Well, in our conversations with our horses, we need to make sure we’re listening exponentially more often than talking. He already knows how to be a horse – there’s nothing you can teach him about that; however, if you want him to learn your language, you have to learn his first.
It can be frustrating to wait for him to understand a new exercise, and at times we may find ourselves increasing the volume and repetition of the request rather than taking a step back and figuring out why he didn’t understand it in the first place. It’s like waiting for a file to load on a computer.
How many times do you hit the enter key (usually uttering a bit of colorful language under your breath) because it just won’t load the damn page? Here’s a hint (both for your computer and your horse) – every time you click enter (or repeat your aid to your horse), it’s like hitting the reset button. – it just keeps sending him back to the beginning of the thought process, and it can make him anxious (and sometimes a bit cranky – but, can you blame him??)
Here are a few tips on how to become a better conversationalist with your horse, which will, in turn, help you become the owner he deserves.
- Ask once. Just once. Give him an opportunity to think through your request before you start asking over and over again. If it seems like his mind has wandered, ask him something simple just to get his attention back on the work at hand. It’s hard for him to focus when he’s gradually falling asleep at the end of the lead rope!
- Reward all tries. If you’re asking him to yield his hindquarters and he takes a step backward instead, don’t punish him – horses honestly don’t do things that frustrate us “on purpose”, it’s typically because they don’t understand our request. Spend a minute and think about your aid to the horse – if he didn’t understand, how can you present the request again in a way that’s clearer to him.
- Clear the static. Have you ever tried to tune in a radio station, but the connection so full of static that you could only understand every third or fourth word? Welcome to the world of how your horse can feel about your aids. I can’t tell you the number of lessons I’ve taught where a student told me that the lesson horse they’re riding is much better than he was a few weeks earlier. I’d then explain that wasn’t the horse who improved – he’d always been a good horse, it was the student being clearer with their aids that made it easier for the horse to understand them.
Give it a try! Next time you’re with your horse, and he doesn’t understand something you ask him, follow the steps above and you might just see that he was a good horse all along.
Until next time – love your horse, love your life, and love yourself!
by penny | Feb 13, 2018 | The Horsey Life
We all want to do our best with our horses.
Whether we trail ride for relaxation, compete at schooling shows, or hit the big circuit, we want to do what’s right by our equine partners. And this is a good thing. The trouble creeps in when we’re so busy striving for perfect that we miss excellent.
If you’re a dressage competitor, you’re familiar with the 0 – 10 scoring system. Fortunately, in all of my years scribing for dressage judges, I’ve only had to put that goose egg into a score box a few times. Sadly. I’ve only had the pleasure of writing that rainbows and unicorns score – the “perfect 10”- a few times as well.
The perfect 10 is something we’re used to pursuing culturally – from the 1979 Movie starring Dudley Moore and Bo Derek to the Olympic athletes that capture our attention and our hearts every 4 years – everyone wants a 10. But the truth about 10? It doesn’t stand for perfect – it stands for excellent -and there’s a very big difference: excellence is attainable, perfection usually isn’t.
Why Perfectionism Doesn’t Serve You
An article in Psychology Today compares how people pursuing excellence rather than perfection cope better with setbacks, learn from their mistakes, and are able to feel good about themselves, even when they come in second.
Let’s break these down a bit.
People pursuing excellence rather than perfection are better able to cope with setbacks.
Picture this – you’ve been doing well at shows all year, and if things go well at the last 2 shows, you’ll walk away with a year end championship. You’re so excited – you’ve dreamed of this for years! And then your horse goes lame. Nothing serious, but it puts you out of the running for that long-coveted 4 foot tall trophy, embroidered cooler, and bragging rights with your friends and family (and anyone who stands still long enough at the tack shop).
Your response is:
- They never drug test at these shows. I’ll just bute him up for the next 2 shows and then he can have the winter off. Nothing is coming between me and that trophy.
- OK, I’ll give him this first show off, bute him up, and then enter him in enough extra classes at the last show that we’ll still have a shot at that trophy.
- It’s only a trophy. My horse is more important to me than any trophy, no matter how big and shiny it is. I’m in it for the long game, we have years ahead of us. I have so many good memories of this year – the ribbons we’ve already won are so far above my hopes. I’ll go to those last 2 shows and groom for my friends.
If you answered 1, you’re probably (as in 150% definitely) a perfectionist. You need to cut yourself (and your horse) some slack. One or both of you are going to end up burned out, used up, or permanently injured.If you want to push yourself that hard, go into a sport that doesn’t require your horse to pay the price for your dreams of glory.
If you answered 2, you’re in the bargaining phase. Not quite resigned to giving up the trophy, still holding onto that child-like optimism – you’re walking the line between being a perfectionist and an excellentist (I don’t know why that isn’t a word, don’t you think it should be?) Hopefully, the optimistic child in you loves her horse enough not to do anything stupid, or should I say “ill-advised”, and you’ll give your horse the chance to heal properly.
If you answered 3, Are. You. Kidding. Me? What planet did you just fall from?? I mean, it’s awesome that you love your horse and you’re taking the setback in stride, but seriously – you’re going to go to the show that could have been the answer to your childhood dreams and groom for your friends? That’s almost frighteningly nice.
But I digress. The point here is that when you pursue excellence, you really do deal with setbacks better than the average perfectionist. (Is “average perfectionist” an oxymoron?)
People pursuing excellence rather than perfection are better able to learn from their mistakes.
So – to revisit the lame horse in our previous scenario – the vet feels the lameness issue could be because you forgot to call your blacksmith and your horse was over a week late for new shoes. Since his toes had grown out a bit, the change of the angle caused him to be a bit off… From now on, the blacksmith’s next visit is scheduled before he packs up his truck and drives out through the gate. You learned from your mistake – voila!
People pursuing excellence rather than perfection are better able to feel good, even when they don’t win.
So you’ve spent all season working toward that championship. You’ve cleaned up your aids, worked on improving a little every day, and when the day arrives, you and your horse just aren’t on your game. You come in 3rd. Or 10th. Or last.
Can you brush it off (after you go back to the trailer and have a good cry) and understand that it simply didn’t come together today?
Can you look at a “loss” and not beat yourself up about it?
Spend a little time thinking about how your mind works when you’re having a riding lesson, trying something new with your horse, or even preparing dinner for guests. Do you note the things that go right or the things that go wrong? Fretting over the fact that you got expensive wine for dinner and neither of your guests drink may stress you out, but fretting over the fact that your horse always bulges through the outside shoulder in leg yield to the right is going to affect him as much or more than it does you. This is where you call a time out, take a deep breathe (and don’t forget to breathe out again…), and find out what’s really going on – both with your horse and with your mindset.
If you’re in a perfectionist mindset, you’re likely to be having thoughts that include words like “should”, “always”, “never” and “why-the-heck-can’t-you-get-this-right-we’ve-been-working-on-it-for-two-weeks!?!” None of those words are going to help your horse stay straight in a leg yield. Try instead, “What’s actually happening?”
If you discover that he always budgets his shoulder when circling to the right, you’re also likely to realize he bulges his shoulder when leg-yielding to the left. Break it down until you can isolate a specific body part (or a few specific body parts).
If you’re not able to feel it, have a friend give you a hand (actually, a pair of eyes). If your friend happens to know what “bulging a shoulder” is, well then, you’ve got some pretty awesome (and useful) friends. If not, have someone, anyone, (even a spouse works for this) take a quick video on your phone. Then have a look and see if you can tell what’s going on.
By taking this step in curiosity, and a genuine desire to know what’s going on NOT so you can beat yourself up, but so you can thoughtfully and consciously work for improvement.
Perfect really isn’t somewhere we’re ever going to dwell for too long, but “better” is a great journey for you and your horse. Even though it may still be a stretch, “better” is attainable, realistic, and the “perfect” way to get to excellent.
by penny | Apr 16, 2017 | The Horsey Life
Things were going so well.
I was writing, spending quality time with my family, hanging out with my horses, exercising, loving teaching my therapeutic riding students – and then suddenly I wasn’t. Things stopped going so well.
In the space of a week, I was diagnosed with a heart condition (no wonder I’ve been so exhausted!), and I injured my knee severely enough to warrant surgery. I missed a few days of writing, a few days of exercise, a few days of spending extra time with my horses… and then it was a week, and then it was 2 weeks…it felt like I had lost my way. Can you relate?
Plans and Dreams or Pain and Drudgery?
The truth is we’re all faced with stuff that crops up and knocks us for a loop. Health, horses, family, work – none of it runs smoothly all the time. But how we cope with those unexpected issues can be the difference between returning to our plans and dreams, or getting stuck with pain and drudgery.
We can do what I did for about 2 weeks – we can wallow, play the poor me game, whine a little (or wine a lot ;-), and just let it all wash over us. In fact, that’s probably a useful thing to do. It gives us the chance to sort out and deal with all of the ramifications of our unwanted circumstances (like teaching my therapeutic students while on crutches and having major bouts of dizziness and lightheadedness.)
[Tweet ” But there comes a time to put away the pity party hat. It’s time to move on.”]
If you read my post about meditation, you’ll remember that I recommend the app 10% Happier – Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics. One of the teachers in 10% Happier is Joseph Goldstein, a man with an amazingly calming voice and manner. Joseph’s advice when your mind wanders in meditation is, “simply begin again”. I think Joseph is on to something.
We have a choice. We can continue to focus on the problem, or we can look for the solution. Lamenting the time I’ve lost exercising isn’t going to heal my knee or move me toward my weight loss and health goals. Far better to find ways to exercise that don’t compromise my knee, and simply begin again.
Throw my plans for my blog, my coaching courses, and my book out the window because I’ve abandoned my writing schedule for a few weeks or push my self-imposed deadlines a little further out, and simply begin again?
Fuss that I’m not riding or keeping on my training schedule for Bella, or spend my time doing ground work and relationship building with my horses, and simply begin again.
It’s a choice we all have – wallow or win? Whine or work?
For me? I think I’ll simply begin again.
![10 Ways to Find Yourself on a Horse]()
by penny | Jan 16, 2017 | Find Yourself on a Horse, The Horsey Life
The Beagle
As a mid-life, happily married woman, I have to confess, horses add a lot to my life that I just don’t get elsewhere. They fulfill my desire for beauty, for nurturing, for connecting with another life form, and yes, even for petting something warm and fuzzy. (Although the Beagle would insist I can fulfill my entire warm fuzzy petting needs with her…)
The reasons for the depth of the connection between horses and women are myriad, but even though many of us are aware of the connection, we’d like to make it stronger, or we simply go on in our habits (which might be decades old) of interacting with horses, and therefore miss a lot of the advantages of spending time with these amazing creatures.
I started this blog to help women become more mindful in their relationships with their horses, with the important people in their lives, and, most importantly, with themselves. I’ve owned horses for 45 years, and been an internationally certified instructor for most of that time. I’ve owned and run a large boarding, training, and lesson barn; taught everything from kids on ponies to adults who were working on national rankings in the dressage arena. I’m a certified Therapeutic Riding Instructor and Equine Specialist in Mental Health and Learning, and I’m an avid student who has learned (and continues to learn) important life lessons from horses. I’ve picked up a fair amount of wisdom (as well as knowledge) along the way, and I’ve helped dozens of women find their way. I’d like to help you, as well.
I’ll be focusing on 10 key areas over the weeks and months to come. They are:
- Awareness
- Understanding
- Trust
- Respect
- Communication
- Confidence
- Goals
- Planning
- Balance
- Harmony
I’ll be posting on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I hope you’ll join me on this journey and that in some small way, I’m able to help you find yourself on a horse.
