Hot nails

Duke was a little off after his most recent farrier appointment, so we missed out on several lessons.  I thought he was finally feeling better, and eager for a lesson, but John could see that he was short in the front at the walk, and confirmed he was off after one circle to the left at the trot.
John pulled out what I hope was the offending nail, and used a needle and syringe to put iodine in the hole.  Unfortunately, Duke felt the same the next day, so yesterday and today I have him on bute and have been soaking his foot in warm water and Epsom salts.
John said that a nail which touches the quick needs to be removed because it is hot, and then the iodine needs to go in to prevent infection.  I'm wondering if waiting a week let it develop a bit of an abscess (whereas if I had called the farrier the next day, he could have come out and pulled it out immediately) and that's what's bothering him now.
John said his feet were a little short (he's commented on that before) and also noticed his feet were cool when he was working on the nail.  Duke's feet seem to be sometimes cool and sometimes warm (although the warm might be just compared to the cool feet), and he seems to have his hind legs stocked up before he is ridden (but cool).
I'm kicking myself for thinking he was ok to ride - even though they were easy rides - after the two days off, and for not knowing to call the farrier and have the nail removed without John having to tell me.  My calendar has him off for two days, then a day off, then no comments for two days, then a comment he felt off again to the left.  I don't know if I didn't feel it those two days or if I ignored it.

John hit reset on Duke for me

Yesterday I had a pretty rough ride on Duke.  We had a great warm up (in the draw reins), but when I put him to work (I decided to do transitions), he short circuited.  He froze, bent his neck, then bolted; or backed, including until he hit the wall; he spun on the forehand; and he generally was just in full on freak out mode.  The first time, I was surprised, and hit him with the whip.  No response, so I gave him a good kick and got no response.  But then I saw his eye was all big, and after that, his heart started going fast, so I just tried to keep him calm.  I could do anything on him but halt.  We could walk, make circles (and change their size), trot, canter, and make serpentines on the centerline, but as soon as I tried to halt him, he'd do one of the incredibly crazy behaviors and stop responding to me at all.  It didn't matter if I had loose reins or tight reins (I thought maybe the draw reins got too tight, but from what I could see, they were already loose, and I didn't want them to get baggy and catch him in the leg if he was leaping around).
Anyway.  It freaked me out a little because I don't know what I did to trigger such an extreme reaction.
Thankfully, John was able to fit us in for a lesson tonight.  It worked out miraculously, because - for the first time ever - I got out of my Commission meeting (in Westport!) 45 minutes early.
He was jigging sideways at John's (all we did was walk until John got out), but it wasn't anywhere near as extreme as yesterday, and John said that he probably felt "stuck" and panicked.  He said that he once couldn't get a horse to stop bolting out in the cross country field - he just panicked and then couldn't get calm enough that John could get his leg over the top and would bolt (again) every time John tried to get off.
John said that he's working much rounder, but that means he doesn't feel like he has an escape, if I'm holding him in place, and that he's still struggling with bending to the left.  He said he also could have spooked at something and then just got wound up and couldn't unwind, or that he could have a little tweak somewhere that needs to get worked out, like a pinched nerve.
He gave me two easy things to remember at home:
First, do a reset and back things up a bit, do a halt - walk - trot - canter - trot - walk - halt, not skip a gait.  John watched me ride, then he rode, and then I rode again, and we did just a confidence building easy transition between the gaits, like walk, halt for a few seconds, get praised, walk again.  Without the draw reins and even after John rode him, Duke was chewing on the bit way too much for what was going on.  John said we'll work on that later, but for now, just let him know it's ok to halt.  He didn't think it was a nasty, get-off-me, but a genuine fear response from Duke.  John said when they're nasty, it seems like they plot it, and it generally is only one side, where Duke did it both ways.
Second, if he starts to get tight and panicky, switch to something he knows and that is easy for him, like trotting to the left.  Just change what's going on and give him a chance to relax.
The more nuanced part was to try to get his right side to bend and soften and step underneath him.  My leg was too far back, and the aids worked much better when I put my leg back up next to the girth.  John said to make sure not to squeeze and hold, but squeeze and release with my hands.  This actually felt a bit more like squeeze and then give - just a tiny amount - when he halts.  John said not to worry about him flipping his head up at the halt and the walk for now, and I've almost certainly been squeezing and then trying to hold his head down for the transitions.
We did some of the rein out, up, and back to help him bend his neck.  He braces and tries to just move to the inside to make the circle smaller, but if I patiently stick with it, once he gives in that neck, he relaxes all the way over his topline (is how it feels).  But it is really hard to make him give to the right.
The other big thing was holding my core tight.  John had me try to get Duke to breathe with me - breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, and it took three breaths for me to loosen my core, but as soon  as I did, Duke also did a big sigh and relaxed.  So I expect, especially as I couldn't fix it last night, even though I was talking to him and petting him, I was probably holding my core tight and stiff like a brick.
It was a good learning opportunity, but it took me by surprise - it was such an extreme reaction for something that I don't know what started it.  The only thing that was different was J and Will in there, and I think he just really doesn't like the sound echoing.
For the lesson, John had me put my outside leg on when he was stepping sideways, but a gentle touch, not a heavy squeeze and not leg completely off.  He also had me half halt with one hand, but gently.  Then we tried every so gently easing him into halt from walk and then going back again.  He moved nice and round with John, but it took him a while to relax when John halted him.  It was interesting to watch, because he was nervous and moving his head all around but then would start to flick his ears to listen for John, and eventually breathe, then John would pet his neck and walk him again and start over.  John pointed out he is still a really young guy.
We did bending to the inside work at both trot and canter, and after the work, did the halt -walk transitions a few more times.  By then, he wasn't stepping sideways anymore, but he was still pretty tense about it.
It'll be interesting to see how he is tomorrow, and I see John again on Saturday.  But it shook my confidence - well, it kept me humble just when I was starting to feel like I was getting the hang of things - and it made me afraid how easy it will be to ruin him by not knowing what I'm doing, and wishing I could be down there at Caber so I was always around John and not at home, ruining things and messing them up and making progress go so much slower.
The good news is that I stayed calm (after the first smack and kick) and that I tried a whole bunch of things.  I didn't just sit there like a bump on a log not knowing what to do.  I tried things for 20 minutes, then jumped off, hand walked him, and got back on and tried again.  I didn't fix it, like John did within a few minutes, but at least I thought of things to try.  And once again, thank god for John, and being able to ride with him the very next day.

Hoo-ya! First grid lesson of the winter

I got nervous about today's jump lesson, but couldn't figure out why.  It isn't like I haven't jumped Duke before or that he's ever been difficult.
We started the lesson with some flat work, which was super helpful, because Duke was wound pretty tight yesterday and spent most of the ride tense and holding his neck all rigid (I have now ordered some ear plugs to go with the ear nets because I am not interested in wasting all winter with him being tense instead of working on what we learned in our last lesson).  So John had us work on getting him to stretch through his neck and to give me some bend.  He said that when Duke's had a tense ride the day before, I need to get that movement in his neck, and I need to work on the stretch since Duke isn't a horse who is naturally inclined to drop his head down.  He said to be patient, that Duke is not going to give much, so I'm going to have to wait for it.
And I think that was the key - wait for it.  I try to get Duke to put his neck down by dropping the reins, which accomplishes nothing, other than giving him a loose rein that has no connection in it.  We will have to work on this more in a future lesson, but it was a bit of pushing forward and down, with inside leg to bend him and push him a bit out in the ribs.  And it went sooooooo slowly before he would take it and chew just a little bit.
John had me do a lot with my inside hand, like pushing it forward and then bending him again, and then softening a bit, then pushing forward again.  My outside hand didn't do too much, except for a half halt every once in a while.
With John's coaching, it still took probably 15 minutes before Duke started to give, so that will help me keep in mind just how patient I need to be, because it will undoubtedly go slower when it's just me, and when he's already tense (he's not tense at lessons with John).
From there, we started work over the grid, which started with a ground pole, cross rail, ground pole, ground pole, but the other poles on the sides.  Duke didn't hesitate, but flicked his ears around like radars, checking out all the poles.
We ended trotting in over the ground pole, cross rail, ground pole, vertical, oxer.  The vertical had a pole on the right on the far side and the oxer had a pole on the left on the far side, to create a tunnel for Duke to go through.
The spacing was ground pole - 6' - cross rail - 6' - ground pole - 6' - vertical - 15' - oxer, I think.  I stepped it out and it made sense.
And our final oxer was 3'11"!  It looked big, but I didn't really have time to think about it while we were riding, mostly because I was fuming about how my position wasn't that good, and how I was a special sort of stupid that after all these years I couldn't ride a freaking basic grid and keep my legs under me enough so that I could tell Duke which lead to land on, and so I immediately whined when we ended, and John pointed out the oxer was about the height we were doing with Charlie, where I couldn't keep my form at all, so it was actually much better than I had been doing.  And he pointed out that Duke, who doesn't appear to have done much grid work, looked at everything, tried to figure it out, and never once hesitated going through.
So, plenty to work on, but good news I think because John says grids will be good and help Duke a lot, and we've got lots of winter jumping to work on things.
One of the jumps was big enough that we were in the air for a while, and I had a second where I was so, so grateful for my life.  I get to come out and learn from John and fly.  I get to ride a horse and fly.    I miss Charlie so much, but I have only had Duke for five months and I already trust him enough to ride him over a big fence (for me, and probably for him too).  My life is pretty good.

Dressage in the dark

The time changed, and the weather changed, and it felt so much darker than it has ever been before on the way to John's.  It was odd.
The wind was blowing sideways and it was pouring rain when I left Olympia, so I left the trailer windows closed and poor Duke got too hot in there with his medium weight sheet on.  Lesson learned.  I cracked the windows open on the way home and he did much better.
John said it's ok not to clip him yet, to watch for the goat hairs and clip him then.  He got sweaty working during the lesson, but I don't think I've seen him sweat when I ride him for at least a couple weeks!  John reminded me that in the winter, it's not good to let them get sweaty, then cold, then heat up.
While John was at Galway, I rode Duke a couple times in the draw reins, but I couldn't get that same feel of Duke bending around my leg that I get in the lesson; it felt more like he just cocked his head sideways.  So although it was windy and chilly (and dark), Duke was a really good boy.  He thought about looking at what was making all the noise a few times, but if I gave him an inside aid, he'd flick his ear back to paying attention to me.  Like the snow and his two days in a row off, I was really impressed with his willingness to pay attention to me.
All that being said, we did work on 10 meter circles, to 20 meter circles to try to hold it, back to 10 meter, and then change direction.
It was one of those lessons where John told me each aid and when to give it, so he had to talk non-stop, and I had to stick my tongue out to focus to try to keep up.  I could feel when Duke got balanced, because the 10 meter circle didn't feel like we were a motorcycle cornering, but felt like we were a train on tracks - which isn't quite right - but his shoulders were up and even instead of leaning in, so even though the circle was the same size, it felt more square.
The good news is I can feel the difference.
The bad news is that it is so many aids, so quick and so different (right leg is different than left leg, and left hand is different than right hand, and the whole time I need to sit deeper), that while I can sort of - maybe - keep up with John, there isn't a snowball's chance I could figure them all out by myself.  And John said that's ok, that it's ok to just ride around and have fun on Duke some of the days when I ride him at home.  (Fun, what's that? Ha ha.)
What he did was sometimes inside leg, a lot of times half halt with the outside hand, sometimes (probably always) the half halt needs to go with inside leg just a fraction before it, sometimes both legs (when he got balanced), inside hand to help him bend - which varied from just a squeeze and release to a couple inches higher, a couple inches inside, and a couple inches back, sometimes a raised hand (to get rid of that head tilt), sometimes some leg yield out, sometimes haunches in, etc.
I had a moment where I gave an aid and Duke reacted (probably I put on inside leg and he tried to move out instead of bending around) and I thought of physics and there being an equal and oppose reaction, and then I had a tiny flash of insight into what it must be like for John to ride, in that he KNOWS if he puts on his inside leg, a horse like Duke is going to try to pop out of his outside shoulder, and so he can - before Duke evades, go ahead and stop that outside shoulder.  He doesn't have to wait for Duke to evade (and unlike me, he doesn't have to wait even longer while he tells me and then I give the aid, so the movement has already been going on for like 5 seconds), but can preemptively nip it in the bud.  That must be the next level up, anticipating the reaction.  That, plus also being able to give 15 different aids at once and thinking ahead.
I don't think two years ago I could have given two different aids with my legs (one aid for each leg) - if I squeezed with my right leg, my left leg squeezed too.  So there's that progress, but man, I am starting to appreciate (once again) how little I can do.  I am basically walking and chewing gum, which is better than just walking, but John is juggling, while riding a unicycle, on a tightrope, with a wolf chasing him.  Probably something is also on fire.
Duke is going to be a good teacher, I think.  I'm so grateful to be able to work with John.