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Aug. 30th, 2012 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickConditioning again. So, how'd that go?
Mia is staying through the week until next Monday. After the falling-off-Mariah incident the other night, I invited her to ride along with us during conditioning (because she really wants to ride, like, A LOT, and because I thought it might be instructive for her to be in an environment where she can compare herself to my ten and eleven year old riders vis a vis skillsets). I can set the table with slices of humble pie but that doesn't mean anyone is going to eat them. *sigh*
So we went conditioning. Olivia and Mia went out "before" conditioning for "a short ride". They came back AFTER Jaice and Kenz had their horses caught and tacked up, so we had to wait for them to get ready. (Annoying delays are annoying!) Olivia took Copper out, Mia was on Jessie (the pre-selected, dead-broke, ridden by drunks, high-withered packer of infinite patience and understanding). So, Jessie, who was out of shape, had already been ridden before conditioning.
We checked her tack fit again (Olivia and Mia are not capable checkers-of-tack-fit) before we headed out as a group. Jessie's saddle was sitting ON her admittedly-high withers. (Withers are bony. Saddles that sit on withers are painful for the horse, especially when you have a buck-eighty of flops-forward-all-the-time sitting on the saddle and, y'know, flopping forward, grinding the rigid saddle into the skin-covered-bone of the withers.) We addressed the issue with the wither pads, which much improved the saddle fit for Jessie. The wither pads did tip the balance of the saddle back slightly (more of a chair seat) but that was better than having it sit ON her withers and represented the best of some not-very-good options. (Normally Jessie gets ridden in a thick neoprene pad and a big old western saddle -- she's for people who don't ride. Best to think of her as a pack horse wearing a pack saddle only we don't lead her or tie the people onto the saddle. Before this we never considered the issue of English saddle fit for her.) I tightened up the girth on Jessie pretty snugly, more than I would consider appropriate if I were riding. I figured it would stay the hell put no matter what Mia did up there.
So, we head out. Each day when we go out to condition, we do our exercises during the warm-up. We do these at the walk and they are not super-difficult exercises. Here's what we do: Hand in the air, hand down to same-side-toe (other hand holds reins to steer and stuff -- we're in the open, steering is important), hand in the air, hand down to other-side-toe. (Repeat with other hand.) Hand in the air, hand to ears, hand in the air, hand back to tail. (Repeat with other hand.) For these stretches, butt stays in saddle and each pose is held for four beats of Nick's walk. The idea is to improve your balance, strengthen your torso, get you used to "being out of position" (when you lean forward or back to do the stretches) and "returning to proper position" (as you return to vertical for "hand in the air" parts), and loosen you up for proper riding. Reins on pommel, hands out straight from shoulders, airplane left (turn torso so that left arm is back over horse's tail. Head looks back over left shoulder towards tail), airplane right. Frog legs (drop stirrups, repeatedly pick up legs on both sides of horse, with heels down, so that the "up" part looks like a frog, kinda. Think of the cadence of situps. We do about twenty a day. This loosens the hip flexors and stuff, makes your seat more fluid, improves your balance.) for a count determined by Jaicey but usually between 20 and 30.
Mia had quite a bit of difficulty with the stretches. Balance wasn't all that and she was not very confident about shifting around in the saddle. I don't call out people when they are having trouble doing stuff, but I do add more instructions like "Stretch way up, open up your ribcage" and "When you lean forward to ears, try to keep your butt in the saddle" (Our horses are actually ponies of the 13.2 to 14.2 size group. The tail and ears of such critters are within reach for reasonably mobile adult-sized people.) The instructions are not aimed at anyone, just directed to the group in general. Mia (wisely) did not even attempt the frog legs.
We went down the hollow and then two-pointed up the hill to the buckwheat field. I started off at a fairly sedate jog around the buckwheat field (we refer to it as "flat" but it really isn't very flat, and thus is scary to people whose only trotting experience is in a ring). Olivia was like, "What is this? Why are we going so slowly?" (Shut the fuck up, Olivia.) "We have Mia today, and she's on a new horse that she's never ridden before. It's not polite to take off at ninety miles an hour before she's had a chance to get comfortable." So we jog around the field. Mia tips forward, but the saddle stays glued to Jessie's back (yay withers and exceptionally snug girth). Trys helps Mia with her position (head up, shoulders way back, up straight) every time she tips forward. One lap (we usually do three) of the field and down we go. Mia gets coaching on downhill riding from Trysta. Up again, in two-point. Mia is up by me, her reins have contact and Jessie is in frame. This is not appropriate for climbing a hill as steep as we are climbing. "Mia, give Jessie more rein. Like four inches on each side, more rein. She needs to use her head and neck to help her climb. Your rein length is too short for her to do that. Jessie needs more rein to be able to climb efficiently." (I am trying to be clear about what Jessie needs. Do you think that maybe you might consider giving the horse some more rein?)
One lap (other direction) of trotting slowly around the field. Mia looks somewhat better at the trot, but still every thirty seconds or so needs a positional reminder. Down the hill. Up the hill. I split us into me & kids and Trys & Mia so that the kids and I can do three laps around the field at a decent trot. Trys & Mia do a more sedate lap and a half.
We meet up and head down the hill again, then up the big hill to the pear tree. Mia again/still has Jessie's reins too short for her to be able to climb effectively. "Mia, give Jessie more rein. Horses cannot climb hills effectively when they are in a frame with a high neck, a vertical face and poll flexion. They need to be able to use their heads and necks to help them climb. Making Jessie climb the hill like that is cruel, like the bearing reins in Black Beauty*. It's very hard on her back and hindquarters, like ten times harder than it needs to be. Please, give Jessie about four more inches of rein on each side." (What are you, stupid? I've told you like fifty times that it is NOT OK to ride like you're in a ring when you're in a trail setting. Put some damn slack into the reins, you horrible lump.)
I swear, I am going to take some rubber bands or hair ties to the reins if I have to go out with this child again. IF I SEE YOUR HANDS CLOSER TO THE BIT THAN THESE HAIR TIES, THERE WILL BE A BEATING!!!
We get done and come back with the kids and critters so that Jaice, Kenz, and Liv can go to church. Jessie is dripping sweat from her belly (fat kid, plus also out of shape, plus also having to do too much hill work in a frame). Mia is like "I'm really disappointed that we didn't get to play jumps. Can we go do that now?" "Mia, Jessie is really tired and sweaty. I think she's had enough for today. Let's get her cooled off and hold her on the alfalfa for a while instead." (Are you stupid? A horse is not a motorcycle! Can you not see the horse is fair to knackered?) "I'll come with you -- Nick was kind of mad at me today because I made her go play jumps yesterday after she thought she was done. She could use some alfalfa, too."
Mia is staying through Monday, then she will be gone. I will not die from this. Jessie will not die from this. Mia may improve some of her skills in the interim. Patience, it is a virtue that needs to be worked on. I will work on my virtue.
* In case you somehow failed to read Black Beauty as a child, it's basically a polemic about the treatment of horses in Britain at the time. Here are the passages that bear on the topic at hand. :) Beauty (the horse) is narrating...
Chapter 22: "York came round to our heads and shortened the rein himself -- one hole, I think; every little makes a difference, be it for better or worse, and that day we had a steep hill to go up. Then I began to understand what I had heard of. Of course, I wanted to put my head forward and take the carriage up with a will, as we had been used to do; but no, I had to pull with my head up now, and that took all the spirit out of me, and the strain came on my back and legs. When we came in Ginger said, "Now you see what it is like; but this is not bad, and if it does not get much worse than this I shall say nothing about it, for we are very well treated here; but if they strain me up tight, why, let 'em look out! I can't bear it, and I won't."
Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing reins were shortened, and instead of looking forward with pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used to do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed restless, though she said very little. At last I thought the worst was over; for several days there was no more shortening, and I determined to make the best of it and do my duty, though it was now a constant harass instead of a pleasure; but the worst was not come.
Chapter 23, or "Ginger Has Had Enough": One day my lady came down later than usual, and the silk rustled more than ever.
"Drive to the Duchess of B----'s," she said, and then after a pause, "Are you never going to get those horses' heads up, York? Raise them at once and let us have no more of this humoring and nonsense."
York came to me first, while the groom stood at Ginger's head. He drew my head back and fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable; then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her head up and down against the bit, as was her way now. She had a good idea of what was coming, and the moment York took the rein off the terret in order to shorten it she took her opportunity and reared up so suddenly that York had his nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off; the groom was nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both flew to her head; but she was a match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner. At last she kicked right over the carriage pole and fell down, after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. There is no knowing what further mischief she might have done had not York promptly sat himself down flat on her head to prevent her struggling, at the same time calling out, "Unbuckle the black horse! Run for the winch and unscrew the carriage pole! Cut the trace here, somebody, if you can't unhitch it!" One of the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought a knife from the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger and the carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned me in as I was and ran back to York. I was much excited by what had happened, and if I had ever been used to kick or rear I am sure I should have done it then; but I never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my leg, my head still strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very miserable and felt much inclined to kick the first person who came near me.
Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. York came with her and gave his orders, and then came to look at me. In a moment he let down my head.
"Confound these check-reins!" he said to himself; "I thought we should have some mischief soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But there, if a woman's husband can't rule her of course a servant can't; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can't get to the duchess' garden party I can't help it."
York did not say this before the men; he always spoke respectfully when they were by. Now he felt me all over, and soon found the place above my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled and painful; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and then some lotion was put on.
Lord W---- was much put out when he learned what had happened; he blamed York for giving way to his mistress, to which he replied that in future he would much prefer to receive his orders only from his lordship; but I think nothing came of it, for things went on the same as before. I thought York might have stood up better for his horses, but perhaps I am no judge.
Ginger was never put into the carriage again, but when she was well of her bruises one of the Lord W----'s younger sons said he should like to have her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called Max; he had always been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was he bore it.
"Well," he said, "I bear it because I must; but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too if you have to stick to it."
"Do you think," I said, "that our masters know how bad it is for us?"
"I can't say," he replied, "but the dealers and the horse-doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer's once, who was training me and another horse to go as a pair; he was getting our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there asked him why he did so. `Because,' said he, `people won't buy them unless we do. The London people always want their horses to carry their heads high and to step high. Of course it is very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they come for another pair.' That," said Max, "is what he said in my hearing, and you can judge for yourself."
What I suffered with that rein for four long months in my lady's carriage it would be hard to describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted much longer, either my health or my temper would have given way. Before that, I never knew what it was to foam at the mouth, but now the action of the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and the constrained position of my head and throat, always caused me to froth at the mouth more or less. Some people think it very fine to see this, and say, "What fine spirited creatures!" But it is just as unnatural for horses as for men to foam at the mouth; it is a sure sign of some discomfort, and should be attended to. Besides this, there was a pressure on my windpipe, which often made my breathing very uncomfortable; when I returned from my work my neck and chest were strained and painful, my mouth and tongue tender, and I felt worn and depressed.
In my old home I always knew that John and my master were my friends; but here, although in many ways I was well treated, I had no friend. York might have known, and very likely did know, how that rein harassed me; but I suppose he took it as a matter of course that it could not be helped; at any rate, nothing was done to relieve me.
Mia is staying through the week until next Monday. After the falling-off-Mariah incident the other night, I invited her to ride along with us during conditioning (because she really wants to ride, like, A LOT, and because I thought it might be instructive for her to be in an environment where she can compare herself to my ten and eleven year old riders vis a vis skillsets). I can set the table with slices of humble pie but that doesn't mean anyone is going to eat them. *sigh*
So we went conditioning. Olivia and Mia went out "before" conditioning for "a short ride". They came back AFTER Jaice and Kenz had their horses caught and tacked up, so we had to wait for them to get ready. (Annoying delays are annoying!) Olivia took Copper out, Mia was on Jessie (the pre-selected, dead-broke, ridden by drunks, high-withered packer of infinite patience and understanding). So, Jessie, who was out of shape, had already been ridden before conditioning.
We checked her tack fit again (Olivia and Mia are not capable checkers-of-tack-fit) before we headed out as a group. Jessie's saddle was sitting ON her admittedly-high withers. (Withers are bony. Saddles that sit on withers are painful for the horse, especially when you have a buck-eighty of flops-forward-all-the-time sitting on the saddle and, y'know, flopping forward, grinding the rigid saddle into the skin-covered-bone of the withers.) We addressed the issue with the wither pads, which much improved the saddle fit for Jessie. The wither pads did tip the balance of the saddle back slightly (more of a chair seat) but that was better than having it sit ON her withers and represented the best of some not-very-good options. (Normally Jessie gets ridden in a thick neoprene pad and a big old western saddle -- she's for people who don't ride. Best to think of her as a pack horse wearing a pack saddle only we don't lead her or tie the people onto the saddle. Before this we never considered the issue of English saddle fit for her.) I tightened up the girth on Jessie pretty snugly, more than I would consider appropriate if I were riding. I figured it would stay the hell put no matter what Mia did up there.
So, we head out. Each day when we go out to condition, we do our exercises during the warm-up. We do these at the walk and they are not super-difficult exercises. Here's what we do: Hand in the air, hand down to same-side-toe (other hand holds reins to steer and stuff -- we're in the open, steering is important), hand in the air, hand down to other-side-toe. (Repeat with other hand.) Hand in the air, hand to ears, hand in the air, hand back to tail. (Repeat with other hand.) For these stretches, butt stays in saddle and each pose is held for four beats of Nick's walk. The idea is to improve your balance, strengthen your torso, get you used to "being out of position" (when you lean forward or back to do the stretches) and "returning to proper position" (as you return to vertical for "hand in the air" parts), and loosen you up for proper riding. Reins on pommel, hands out straight from shoulders, airplane left (turn torso so that left arm is back over horse's tail. Head looks back over left shoulder towards tail), airplane right. Frog legs (drop stirrups, repeatedly pick up legs on both sides of horse, with heels down, so that the "up" part looks like a frog, kinda. Think of the cadence of situps. We do about twenty a day. This loosens the hip flexors and stuff, makes your seat more fluid, improves your balance.) for a count determined by Jaicey but usually between 20 and 30.
Mia had quite a bit of difficulty with the stretches. Balance wasn't all that and she was not very confident about shifting around in the saddle. I don't call out people when they are having trouble doing stuff, but I do add more instructions like "Stretch way up, open up your ribcage" and "When you lean forward to ears, try to keep your butt in the saddle" (Our horses are actually ponies of the 13.2 to 14.2 size group. The tail and ears of such critters are within reach for reasonably mobile adult-sized people.) The instructions are not aimed at anyone, just directed to the group in general. Mia (wisely) did not even attempt the frog legs.
We went down the hollow and then two-pointed up the hill to the buckwheat field. I started off at a fairly sedate jog around the buckwheat field (we refer to it as "flat" but it really isn't very flat, and thus is scary to people whose only trotting experience is in a ring). Olivia was like, "What is this? Why are we going so slowly?" (Shut the fuck up, Olivia.) "We have Mia today, and she's on a new horse that she's never ridden before. It's not polite to take off at ninety miles an hour before she's had a chance to get comfortable." So we jog around the field. Mia tips forward, but the saddle stays glued to Jessie's back (yay withers and exceptionally snug girth). Trys helps Mia with her position (head up, shoulders way back, up straight) every time she tips forward. One lap (we usually do three) of the field and down we go. Mia gets coaching on downhill riding from Trysta. Up again, in two-point. Mia is up by me, her reins have contact and Jessie is in frame. This is not appropriate for climbing a hill as steep as we are climbing. "Mia, give Jessie more rein. Like four inches on each side, more rein. She needs to use her head and neck to help her climb. Your rein length is too short for her to do that. Jessie needs more rein to be able to climb efficiently." (I am trying to be clear about what Jessie needs. Do you think that maybe you might consider giving the horse some more rein?)
One lap (other direction) of trotting slowly around the field. Mia looks somewhat better at the trot, but still every thirty seconds or so needs a positional reminder. Down the hill. Up the hill. I split us into me & kids and Trys & Mia so that the kids and I can do three laps around the field at a decent trot. Trys & Mia do a more sedate lap and a half.
We meet up and head down the hill again, then up the big hill to the pear tree. Mia again/still has Jessie's reins too short for her to be able to climb effectively. "Mia, give Jessie more rein. Horses cannot climb hills effectively when they are in a frame with a high neck, a vertical face and poll flexion. They need to be able to use their heads and necks to help them climb. Making Jessie climb the hill like that is cruel, like the bearing reins in Black Beauty*. It's very hard on her back and hindquarters, like ten times harder than it needs to be. Please, give Jessie about four more inches of rein on each side." (What are you, stupid? I've told you like fifty times that it is NOT OK to ride like you're in a ring when you're in a trail setting. Put some damn slack into the reins, you horrible lump.)
I swear, I am going to take some rubber bands or hair ties to the reins if I have to go out with this child again. IF I SEE YOUR HANDS CLOSER TO THE BIT THAN THESE HAIR TIES, THERE WILL BE A BEATING!!!
We get done and come back with the kids and critters so that Jaice, Kenz, and Liv can go to church. Jessie is dripping sweat from her belly (fat kid, plus also out of shape, plus also having to do too much hill work in a frame). Mia is like "I'm really disappointed that we didn't get to play jumps. Can we go do that now?" "Mia, Jessie is really tired and sweaty. I think she's had enough for today. Let's get her cooled off and hold her on the alfalfa for a while instead." (Are you stupid? A horse is not a motorcycle! Can you not see the horse is fair to knackered?) "I'll come with you -- Nick was kind of mad at me today because I made her go play jumps yesterday after she thought she was done. She could use some alfalfa, too."
Mia is staying through Monday, then she will be gone. I will not die from this. Jessie will not die from this. Mia may improve some of her skills in the interim. Patience, it is a virtue that needs to be worked on. I will work on my virtue.
* In case you somehow failed to read Black Beauty as a child, it's basically a polemic about the treatment of horses in Britain at the time. Here are the passages that bear on the topic at hand. :) Beauty (the horse) is narrating...
Chapter 22: "York came round to our heads and shortened the rein himself -- one hole, I think; every little makes a difference, be it for better or worse, and that day we had a steep hill to go up. Then I began to understand what I had heard of. Of course, I wanted to put my head forward and take the carriage up with a will, as we had been used to do; but no, I had to pull with my head up now, and that took all the spirit out of me, and the strain came on my back and legs. When we came in Ginger said, "Now you see what it is like; but this is not bad, and if it does not get much worse than this I shall say nothing about it, for we are very well treated here; but if they strain me up tight, why, let 'em look out! I can't bear it, and I won't."
Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing reins were shortened, and instead of looking forward with pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used to do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed restless, though she said very little. At last I thought the worst was over; for several days there was no more shortening, and I determined to make the best of it and do my duty, though it was now a constant harass instead of a pleasure; but the worst was not come.
Chapter 23, or "Ginger Has Had Enough": One day my lady came down later than usual, and the silk rustled more than ever.
"Drive to the Duchess of B----'s," she said, and then after a pause, "Are you never going to get those horses' heads up, York? Raise them at once and let us have no more of this humoring and nonsense."
York came to me first, while the groom stood at Ginger's head. He drew my head back and fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable; then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her head up and down against the bit, as was her way now. She had a good idea of what was coming, and the moment York took the rein off the terret in order to shorten it she took her opportunity and reared up so suddenly that York had his nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off; the groom was nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both flew to her head; but she was a match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner. At last she kicked right over the carriage pole and fell down, after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. There is no knowing what further mischief she might have done had not York promptly sat himself down flat on her head to prevent her struggling, at the same time calling out, "Unbuckle the black horse! Run for the winch and unscrew the carriage pole! Cut the trace here, somebody, if you can't unhitch it!" One of the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought a knife from the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger and the carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned me in as I was and ran back to York. I was much excited by what had happened, and if I had ever been used to kick or rear I am sure I should have done it then; but I never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my leg, my head still strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very miserable and felt much inclined to kick the first person who came near me.
Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. York came with her and gave his orders, and then came to look at me. In a moment he let down my head.
"Confound these check-reins!" he said to himself; "I thought we should have some mischief soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But there, if a woman's husband can't rule her of course a servant can't; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can't get to the duchess' garden party I can't help it."
York did not say this before the men; he always spoke respectfully when they were by. Now he felt me all over, and soon found the place above my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled and painful; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and then some lotion was put on.
Lord W---- was much put out when he learned what had happened; he blamed York for giving way to his mistress, to which he replied that in future he would much prefer to receive his orders only from his lordship; but I think nothing came of it, for things went on the same as before. I thought York might have stood up better for his horses, but perhaps I am no judge.
Ginger was never put into the carriage again, but when she was well of her bruises one of the Lord W----'s younger sons said he should like to have her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called Max; he had always been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was he bore it.
"Well," he said, "I bear it because I must; but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too if you have to stick to it."
"Do you think," I said, "that our masters know how bad it is for us?"
"I can't say," he replied, "but the dealers and the horse-doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer's once, who was training me and another horse to go as a pair; he was getting our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there asked him why he did so. `Because,' said he, `people won't buy them unless we do. The London people always want their horses to carry their heads high and to step high. Of course it is very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they come for another pair.' That," said Max, "is what he said in my hearing, and you can judge for yourself."
What I suffered with that rein for four long months in my lady's carriage it would be hard to describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted much longer, either my health or my temper would have given way. Before that, I never knew what it was to foam at the mouth, but now the action of the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and the constrained position of my head and throat, always caused me to froth at the mouth more or less. Some people think it very fine to see this, and say, "What fine spirited creatures!" But it is just as unnatural for horses as for men to foam at the mouth; it is a sure sign of some discomfort, and should be attended to. Besides this, there was a pressure on my windpipe, which often made my breathing very uncomfortable; when I returned from my work my neck and chest were strained and painful, my mouth and tongue tender, and I felt worn and depressed.
In my old home I always knew that John and my master were my friends; but here, although in many ways I was well treated, I had no friend. York might have known, and very likely did know, how that rein harassed me; but I suppose he took it as a matter of course that it could not be helped; at any rate, nothing was done to relieve me.
