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Oct. 12th, 2004 12:17 pmToday I did feet with Mezcal, starting with a rope looped around them. That went okay (picked up all four) and so we progressed to hands. That also went well. It's a start, anyway. Her rope skills are coming along, though she's got absolutely no patience for standing still yet. We will have to work on that. She's also a little goochy about the hindquarters. Hrm. That'll need sacking out. Those are projects for tomorrow and the days to come.
As planned, today we did sheets of tin. This was weird. She gave it a decent go, got a foot or two on, and then gave me an hour of shit about not going over them. *sigh* Throughout the process, Liss and ValJean (name comes from Les Miserables, pronounced Val Jean (like blue jean) -- his mother read the book, had never heard it spoken.) poked their heads out of the door and offered helpful insights: "Doesn't look like you're making any headway." "What are you trying to do, teach the horse to stand still while you hit it?" These are the sort of helpful insights I could do without, really.
So later, over breakfast (two eggs, bacon, toast, coffee), Liss tosses off the following not-exactly-throwaway comments: "Actually, I sort of thought you were rushing things. I don't expect you'll ever learn patience." *sigh* Hell of a cut direct there, to make bacon taste like ashes in my mouth, particularly since I really like bacon. Maybe I lack patience -- it's certainly something I work on, since it doesn't come naturally to me. However, if I'm that fucking useless, why the hell does she have me out breaking her horses? Why doesn't she have her own kids (she's got three) out there doing it?
Also, is an hour for a basic request really "rushing" it? The horse isn't sweating. The horse isn't even particularly worried. There are no whites-of-eyes showing. There is not any yanking of the lead rope to try to get away. The horse is not rearing or spinning or going over backwards. I held her easily with one hand the whole time -- she weighs a thousand pounds and I weigh a hundred and fifty. If she wanted to leave, I would not be able to hold her. My view is that she's not overly upset, here.
As planned, today we did sheets of tin. This was weird. She gave it a decent go, got a foot or two on, and then gave me an hour of shit about not going over them. *sigh* Throughout the process, Liss and ValJean (name comes from Les Miserables, pronounced Val Jean (like blue jean) -- his mother read the book, had never heard it spoken.) poked their heads out of the door and offered helpful insights: "Doesn't look like you're making any headway." "What are you trying to do, teach the horse to stand still while you hit it?" These are the sort of helpful insights I could do without, really.
So later, over breakfast (two eggs, bacon, toast, coffee), Liss tosses off the following not-exactly-throwaway comments: "Actually, I sort of thought you were rushing things. I don't expect you'll ever learn patience." *sigh* Hell of a cut direct there, to make bacon taste like ashes in my mouth, particularly since I really like bacon. Maybe I lack patience -- it's certainly something I work on, since it doesn't come naturally to me. However, if I'm that fucking useless, why the hell does she have me out breaking her horses? Why doesn't she have her own kids (she's got three) out there doing it?
Also, is an hour for a basic request really "rushing" it? The horse isn't sweating. The horse isn't even particularly worried. There are no whites-of-eyes showing. There is not any yanking of the lead rope to try to get away. The horse is not rearing or spinning or going over backwards. I held her easily with one hand the whole time -- she weighs a thousand pounds and I weigh a hundred and fifty. If she wanted to leave, I would not be able to hold her. My view is that she's not overly upset, here.
