What it feels like when Willig bucks

My mom forwarded internet photos, and this was among them. Unfortunately, no identified credit (other than on the side of the photo).
But this is how high it feels like we are in the air when Willig bucks. Seriously.

Elbows glued to hips

Today's dressage lesson was back to the good ol' days of progress into new areas, instead of working on going past the &#*(# scary side. Whew. Although it made my legs burn, and (disgusting alert) when I was all done and changing clothes to smell slightly less bad, I was soaking wet under my vest. Blech, but kind of satisfying.
We started with a brief discussion about my ride on Charlie, and how useful it was for me to ride another horse and then ride Willig. Mike pointed out that all horses are different, and while Charlie has some strengths, with some work, Willig will have strengths too (and different ones). A lot of what I commented on was training, that, over time, Willig will also (presumably) attain. Mike said that although frustrating now, Willig's jitteriness could transform into attentiveness for higher level riding, where every single step is something different that you're asking for. But he has to focus on me instead of the outside world, to be able to do that.
Then we started with some trot work, with Mike telling me, well, ok, you can be all floppy around when you start, but why don't you start pulling things together right away? Even though I had been out there 20 minutes warming up, most of that we walked past the scary side, and I don't know why it takes a good 10-15 minutes to really get him connected - I mean, obviously it's me. Maybe I need to warm up?
Anyway, so then we started pulling him together, Mike checked in on his responsiveness to the aids (those walk-trot-canter-trot-walk we've been doing have made a huge difference, and see Charlie discussion where I'd lurch forward at each down transition because it turns out I didn't actually expect him to do it when I asked him to) and my sitting trot, which, thanks to the chiropractor, his homework, and those miracle balls, has gone back to being doable.
Then Mike had us do something terrible, which was hold onto to the pommel (couldn't do) so saddle pad (could only barely do), at which point we lost all steering and careened around totally out of control (from my perspective). Little did I know that this was going to lead to today's big lesson.
Then we did a bit of canter, which Mike said was just so much better than last year because he's pulled together.
Then I asked about him flinging his neck around, and Mike said that was soft hands - I give away the connection ALL THE TIME, and then he showed me how if I think about keeping him bent to the left, and maintain the connection, the head flinging stops. It doesn't really exist when we're going right, because of that iron right hand I've got.
So then we worked on Test 1-2, just going through it. It was rough around the edges, but not so bad. The only part that's still sticking for me is the down transition from canter to trot or from lengthened trot to sitting trot again. Mike said that working on the simple lead change (which is not a canter, trot, canter, like I thought, but canter - walk - canter) for 2nd level (because if something is hard for you, you shouldn't be showing that yet, but working on it at home, BUT working on canter-walk-canter will help us do canter-trot or lengthen-sit). But to get there, we went back to connection.
Mike had me stop and imagine my arms as side reins. The way I think about this is elbows clamped to hips. Then Willig's neck arched up and tucked and got all 'waterfall' (and he wanted to back up), so then we did walk-halt-walk-trot-canter with the connection staying constant. This was hard for Willig - he wanted to avoid working - but he wasn't being naughty. So then we made the canter a bit smaller (just around Mike) and it was divine. He'd just LIFT his back and be cantering and it was so soft and easy to ride. This made me grin each time he did it.
Mike said to warm up for about 15 minutes, then work on elbows clamped to hips for about 15 minutes, then do something he knows how to do (that we've been working on) for about 15 minutes. But not to do 100% of elbows clamped to hips because it's new and hard.
It was a great lesson. Then we walked outside and did a quick, short lap in the pasture, and a tired Willig is a much more relaxed Willig.
He does have a little patch of hives on the left side (the same two big and deflated) and then the right side looks like the same mess of them but not yet blown up. It just looks like he slept on his hair wet right now. So (fingers crossed) hopefully our little system is holding them at bay until whatever allergen is setting them off again goes away.

My new favorite thing

Although it forces me to admit I'm getting old.

Two jump lessons and two good lessons

Shannon let me ride her training-level eventer, Charlie, for my Saturday lesson, and wooo-weee it was fun! (And educational. But mostly fun.)
We had a little 3-jump course with a little vertical and a bendy line, although of course Shannon had us start out on the flat. Charlie was soooo much easier to ride than Willig, both in his attentiveness and responsivness, and just sitting on him and riding. Especially when we started the canter, it was like sitting on a lake in a gently rocking boat, instead of, oh, on a surfboard in a hurricane.
When I asked Charlie for a down transition, he did it the SECOND that I asked, so I was constantly lurching forward because I wasn't ready for it when I asked for it, which did an amazing job of showing me how Willig has trained me back. I expect the transition to come at least two strides after I ask for it.
Charlie was also a total gentlemen when he'd pop his head up and I'd ask him to come back into connection with the bit, he'd do it immediately. I noticed his ears spent an awful lot of time listening to me, instead of radaring around looking for things to be scared of.
Although Charlie has (or maybe used to have) some of Willig's bad habits (not all of them, and he's got a few different ones), Shannon has had him since he was a young little colt (3, I think), and has trained him to be quite the nice horse.
The only other stand-out thing on the flat (other than how much fun I was having riding someone responsive) was that I had a terrible time getting him to pick up the ... right lead. When we switched to the left, he did it instantly. So when we went back to the right, I figured out it was my leg not moving back from the hip (what Mike has been telling me, and where I think the chiropractor connects in). I usually just squeeze, but when I'm "moving my leg back" I'm really just lifting it up to the saddle pad, which just confused Charlie. It was neat, if a bit painful, to see how horses read us.
When we jumped, Charlie was really gung-ho. It scared me a bit, because he actually went towards and over the jumps, and I had to think "1-2-1-2" to keep him steady and even on the way there. But he also just flew - it was soooooo easy to stay balanced on top of him, even the couple of times he took off a bit long or short - and (big sigh of relief) I do still love jumping. I haven't become a 35 year old chicken. Willig is just hard to jump. I also, even though I didn't know Charlie, noticed that I came to each fence so much more relaxed than I approach any fence (or anything) on Willig. I could sit back and wait for the fence because I wasn't anxious.
I was grinning for the entire rest of the day because I had so much fun riding him.

I rode Willig after that lesson, but we just puttered around indoors, went on a walk in the outdoor arena, and then went on a walk and did some hills and the water in the pasture. He was fine, not very spooky.
I did a lot of comparison, and the best way I can think of to describe it is that Willig is kind of squirrely compared to Charlie. He is constantly jerking and moving, and to ride him, I have to think about like 10 different things at a time, while Charlie I could just THINK about 1 or 2, and then just RIDE the rest. Willig doesn't pay as much attention to me as he does to the external world, he's harder physically to sit on, and he kind of jerks around, like a jumpy computer screen, even when he's being perfectly well behaved. I can't quite put my finger on how to describe the difference, but it makes a HUGE difference in how I sit up there.
Then today we had another jump lesson, but on Willig. He started out a tiny bit off (and he has a little patch of three hives. Compared to the last two years, they are staying under control instead of exploding over his whole neck and body, but they itch, which is different) but worked through it, something I have seen a handful of times. Then he was being a kook about the far end, even with Shannon standing at the gate, but we had to ride down there because another lesson was at the "friendly" end. This turned out to be good, because when we started jumping, he tried to bolt (he didn't try hard, but he tried) twice after the fence, and twice I managed to pull him the other direction and put him back to work. But then, we came around the corner and he did some leapy spastic thing and I finally just got, instead of scared, MAD, and started RIDING him, and then he was a gentleman the entire rest of the lesson.
So we did a three fence course from two different directions, and although he also came in a bit funny a few times (because he was looking at the lesson and other riders instead of the fence), he jumped each one like a champ. The big takeaway was that on the flat, when he kept being a goof, I kept being mad, until after a few laps Shannon started telling me what to do, and then the light bulb went off - why would I expect him to act different on his own each lap? I need to tell him what i want him to do different.
Let me go ahead and make this a take away message - I'm still slow on the punishment and almost non-existent on the praise. How in the world do I expect Willig to learn when I am not consistent, and when I almost never tell him "that's what I wanted, good boy"? He has no idea what I want from him without that effort on my part to breach the species-divide, and I'm just like a lousy girlfriend/parent, who nags nags nags and never shows appreciation. So Shannon had to remind me a couple of times, but I am trying harder to remember to either say "good boy" or give him a scratch with my fingers (I don't like to pat his neck) when he's done something that I asked.
And then I was jumping ahead in a big way, and when I opened my mouth to tell Shannon, I realized I should just fix it, so I went to each fence after that thinking "defensive heels" and that solved it.
Then I rode him thinking 1-2-1-2-1-2 to each fence, and then softening two strides out, and that took care of pretty much everything else.
And I also, because we were working on two curvy lines (for us), looked for the next fence. That worked spectacularly well when it was just one fence on a circle, and was not as good when I was doing the whole course.
Willig was a champ. I had a good time, although when he did his leapy thing, I held my breath and just about killed myself trying to ride him afterwards beacause I hadn't been breathing.
Shannon was happy because I actually rode him, and when I did, he responded really well. And I was happy because I handled the little events, and then knew (finally!) what to do with his antics.

Horse people

We were at the bank yesterday, and the woman we were talking with had a picture of her daughter showjumping their AQHA stallion over a nice size looking fence. She mentioned that she needed to get her knee replaced, and before I could make a joke to avoid her saying it was from a horse, she said it was from her years of barrel racing. The *second* we walked out the door, Tom pounced on it.
Also, the same horsey friend with the 4-yo OTTB from the last post was telling me how her husband gets excited when she comes home after a bad day of riding and grumbles about the time and the money and why do we do this, and then is deflated when the next day she comes home from a great day of riding.
I don't know other people who get the same kind of pent up stress if they don't get to ride. It's like turning the valve and letting off my steam. Even if it has been mostly the painful (and arduous) kind of learning lately instead of the fun kind of learning.

2 steps away from my huff (and two halves)

I had a good dressage lesson yesterday. The take away homework was:
- Lean back during the sitting trot and "firm up" my core. No more wavy following, but a firm, controlled "bounce". I can only just barely feel what my body is doing when I get it right - it is some refined motor control I don't control yet, but when I get it right, I feel Willig lift up in his shoulders. It feels to me kind of like, lean back (which is really just straight), think belly button pulled into spine like in pilates, have my heels and lower legs right, and then it is kind of a "sucking" him up on the down step with my inner thighs and butt. But it is something a little more than that, and I can't put my finger on what I am doing when I hit the last magic button, and I also can't make them all align at once when I want them to.
- Work on the responsiveness to the aids. Walk-trot-walk-halt-walk-canter-trot-walk immediately.
- Keep the correct bend in the shallow loops of counter canter. I have been, with that pesky right hand, turning his neck to the right.
- Work on "horsey sit ups" - the collected, small 10 meter canter. Do the responsiveness on a circle spiraling in, when I get in, ask for the canter, hold it for 2-3 strides, and then go big and let him trot. These are the rough foundation stones for the next cool stuff to come. Side note: 2-3 strides of this is like the same as 10 minutes of regular trotting around the arena - hard stuff.
Willig was pretty much a gentleman and worked pretty hard.
I am crossing my fingers that his recent few months of being kind of a doofus are the transition into starting 2nd level movements and polishing our 1st level, and that it's his way of testing me to see if I'm really going to make him work. And maybe we have, for the moment, passed that hurdle and he's back to giving me his good work outs.
The half step away from my huff is he was also good for J today, who jumped him on a bendy line.
The half step back toward my huff is a new horsey friend who bought a 4 year old off the track thoroughbred 6 months ago, showed him at the end of the year last year, and he jumps 3', ditches, and banks without batting an eye. (shaking my fist at the sky) He's a real cutie too.

A jump lesson that resulted in one step away from my huff

Today Shannon worked us hard, but effectively got me one step out of my bad mood that I've been stewing in for the past couple weeks.
Willig started out lazy on the lunge line and in our warm up (**and he has, on the left side of his neck, a whole nest of baby hives percolating**), but then, just after Shannon set up a new fence and before we could get going, he spooked at a flock of European starlings out the "scary" end, and then pretty much stayed in a mood the rest of the lesson. Unfortunately, that was really only about 20 minutes in, so I had 40 minutes of his mood.
The good news is that Shannon warned me at the beginning of the lesson to ride tough (mentally) and so it gave her the opportunity to teach me how to ride tough in a good lesson setting - not too crazy, but not Sweety McPacker either.
So we did a little cross rail with ground poles and a little vertical with ground poles, the latter with, when going clockwise, a hard right turn around the other fence, which scared me about making the turn but turned out to be doable. He tried to dart out to the right the first couple times over this, and miracle of miracles, I rode him to it, and used my wimpy right leg to keep him going "straight" over the fence instead of around it. Yay wimpy little right leg!
Then, as Shannon rearranged the fences into a little (2'3") oxer and a little bit bigger vertical than the first one, Willig decided he'd had enough of me not knowing how to stop him if he bolted, and gave us numerous opportunities for me to catch on. Mostly, these were him trying to bolt left (towards the barn; away from the scary end) so I had to pull HARD-right-fast. After a few times (thanks, Willig!*), I started to catch on, although I also just liked to steer him into the wall (not an option on cross country, I know).
(* = sarcasm)
So then we spent some time on a circle, then our first fence, then a circle with the new vertical (now smaller again), then other direction. This took a while.
Then he started acclerating toward the fence, and kind of rushing on the other side. So we worked on applying the brakes on the far side. Straight line to halt. This needed, sometimes, me leaning way back, and hands in the air pulling on his face, but after a few times of "oh, I'm really going to have to stop when Martha tells me to", he quit needing so much work.
This doesn't sound like much, but I was turning bright red and huffing and puffing because his head was like 2000 pounds of force, and so then Shannon had us work on control - squeeze, release, squeeze, release, and when she said halt, trot, back, or whatever, could I do it when she said to do it? Again, this one improved as we went along and Willig began to take me a bit more seriously, and (in Cartman's voice from South Park), "respect my author-a-tee".
Oh yeah, and somewhere in here Shannon turned on some vigorous music.
So then at the very end of the lesson we ended up with the circle we tried to start half way through the lesson - the vertical, past the scary end, over the oxer. Shannon wanted twice nice in a row, which we couldn't do the first couple times (rushing, mostly), so we had to do it a few times before we got something decent.
So the big change is to come into the fence, even from far out, with rhythm, and then keep it after the fence. It helped me a lot when Shannon said out loud 1-2-1-2 because I'd squeeze on 1 and release on 2 and it kept from me from ssqquuueeezzinggg the whole way to the fence.
Although not a fun lesson, it was a good confidence building and tool kit building lesson. Shannon's goal is to get me confident that I can jump him, and then hopefully that will be reflected in him building confidence that he can do whatever I am pointing him at - an upward spiral instead of the downward spiral we tend to fall into on our own. My goal is to be as comfortable as she and Mike are with shenanigans, and to ... get used to the idea that he's a horse and not a robot and isn't going to do exactly what I want him to do 100% of the time and is going to ... (news flash) act like a horse. Kind of a dumb ass horse, but that is another notch in the "lessons learned" belt for when I look for the next one. I'm fond of Willig, but he's teaching me really different stuff (good stuff, that I wish I learned a long time ago) than what I planned to learn from him, and I need to just get over that and accept where he's at and where I'm at and where we can go right now with that. I also need to remind myself, as I tend to be a black & white thinker, that when I'm feeling down, we're not going to be down the entire rest of my life, and when I'm on top of the world, enjoy it, because it isn't going to last either. Ahhh, meditation lessons creeping back in to my life to force me to learn them one way or the other.

My "show" goals for 2011

March 19 - Peteton - 1-1 & 1-2
March ? - School at NWEC
April 16 - Peteton - 1-2 & 1-3
April? - NWEC Adult Rider Derby - Hopeful
April 30 - Donida - Hopeful
April? - School at NWEC
April? - recognized dressage? (1-1 & 1-2)
May 14? - NWEC Pony Club - Hopeful
May 14 (if NWEC is a different day) - Peteton - 1-2 & 1-3 & BN Eventing
June - School at NWEC twice
June - recognized dressage?
June 25/26 - FPEC - Mike's recognized dressage show - 1-2 & 1-3 both days if I've done ok so far
July 2 - Peteton or Donida
July ? - School NWEC
July 16 - Caber Pony Club - BN **IF** Willig has placed in the top 3 in all hopefuls and hasn't done anything dumb like spook at poles on the ground or run-out or buck
July ? - recognized dressage
August 13 - Donida - BN (same as 7/16)
August 20 - Peteton - 1-3 & MAYBE 2-1 & BN eventing
August 27 - Caber Pony Club - BN (same as 7/16)
September ? - School NWEC
September 24 - Peteton - 1-3 & 2-1 & wildly, 2-2
September? - recognized dressage

Then, if all goes well, the longer term goals will be:
2012: BN recognized & unrecognized; 2nd level dressage; freestyle test for 1st
2013: BN recognized; N unrecognized; 2nd/3rd level dressage; freestyle test for 2nd
2014: N recognized & unrecognized; 3rd level dressage

And I dare not even hope we'd make it to training level & 4th level before Willig is 20.

Tidbits - chiropractor & 2 hives

Willig had one hive yesterday and a second one today, so tomorrow we are switching from Platinum Performance only, to Platinum, plus his Riva's Remedies herbs, and the Platinum mega-$ allergy stuff.
They don't really look like hives - more like two little bug bites, but since I can't imagine what bugs are out right now, better safe than sorry to try to nip this in the bud.

Also, I think the problem with the sitting trot (it was stiff) and Willig not picking up the right lead was my muscles being weird. I went to see a new chirpractor (long story that is really not that interesting) and he kept identifying these wack spots, and then telling me how the muscles being wack would affect me, and I kept thinking "well, that explains the sitting trot", "well, that explains the right lead the other day", "well, that further explains the sitting trot" on and on and on.
So hopefully, getting myself fixed up will help at least not give myself as many obstacles as possible riding.

Outside leg & Superjumper Willig

Today Tom came out to help me with feeling when Willig's outside hind leg leaves the ground at the walk and trot so I can refine my aids.
He also hung around so I could jump a bit with a spotter, and took this video of Willig doing a little course and a photo of the approximate height and spread of the training fence we did in our last jump lesson.
http://www.youtube.com/user/Tomonbelay?feature=mhum#p/a/u/0/N4ZE7v6lQSA
(Hopefully the link works. Otherwise, search for Tomonbelay's videos and then Martha and Willig and about today's date.)
Here's the aid:
When walking clockwise (to the right), it's when your left hip is pointing towards his right shoulder. (Unless I reversed it - because it's the opposite of what I expected it to be.)
When posting the trot, it's as your seat starts to hit the saddle to sit before lifting again.
When sitting the trot, it is the "deeper" sit.
Willig was a total champ with the fences, which look puny on tape.
Jumping today, which I got anxious about ahead of time, and then wanted to throw a party afterwards I was so happy he was so good, cemented the lesson from my last lesson with Shannon and made me come up with a little strategy for preparing for this season. It's what everyone knows, but I somehow forgot: when you jump 2'9" at home, 2'6" at the show looks like nothing.
**I'M** the one who wants to jump, Willig could care less, and so if **I** want to feel comfortable jumping 2'6", then I need to work up to 2'9" at home and every scary thing I can throw at him, so when we get to the show, we BOTH think - "Oh, man, the stuff at home is sooo much harder. This is a cakewalk." It's the same test for moving up to the next level.
I'm amazed at how many times I have to say "duh" to myself.

The elusive right lead canter

I don't know what was going on today, but we could not pick up the right lead canter to save our lives. Willig was doing gorgeous, beautiful collected canter work, and he has nooooo problem counter cantering, even on a little 10 meter circle. Or when I'm contorted around bending to the outside to "assist" him in picking it up correctly.
Now, of course, there's something actually going on with me (other than what appears to be a total mental riding break down), and somewhere on the right side of my body, I'm doing something that is so strong and powerful that it overrides the aids that I think I'm giving with the left side.
Today's take away is that I am so frustrated. Yesterday we had this decent ride where I finally felt like my heels got the message, and I was so looking forward to today's lesson to show that off, and instead, we could. not. pick. up. the. right. lead.
So I don't really have any takeaways, because all we did was flop around in circles and look like we had no idea what we were doing.
Mike spent a lot of time demonstrating what looked like yoga warrior moves to show me how a horse picks up its leads. He also talked about the bend in my body (not holding the inside leg on him when I'm asking him to pick up the lead), and moving my leg back (sliding it back, not just lifting my heel) to ask for the lead. And then we did this funky trot-walk-trot-walk-canter-trot-walk stuff where Mike changed it every few seconds, so that Willig had to LEAP off my aids and do the transition.
Mike was very satisfied with Willig's canter ability. He said it was basically 2nd level about to do flying changes. I gritted my teeth because it doesn't matter if we can do flying changes if we can't pick up the lead I'm asking for in a 1st level test. Or go past a spot where, horrors, someone raked and there are rake marks in the earth. He even spent extra time with me, and we still just flailed around, and then after he left, I started crying.
I don't know what's going on with me. I think I've hit a wall.

A more succinct way to state next year's goals

I'm not going to get any better by whining about not being better, so I should probably just shut up and ride already.

Reflections on 2010; Goals for 2011

I left my last dressage lesson and last jump lesson feeling down, instead of elated and excited, and I've been thinking about why for the last couple of days. That coincided perfectly with the normal tradition of reflecting back and looking forward for the New Year, so I thought I'd try to make some sense out of what my mood is about while setting some new goals - kind of a two birds with one stone sort of thing.
I think that I am still stymied by my expectations for him. I wanted a push-button horse. What I got was a horse who is teaching me how to ride, and it is much slower going than what I had in mind. I want instant, immediate gratification without having to work for it. I don't want to know how to ride - I want to get on a horse and have him perform flawlessly like a robot, predictable horse.
And yes, I realize that I don't actually want that. I'm proud of how far Willig and I have come together over the last year. I'm really, really grateful for how lucky and fortunate we are to have such an incredible barn and two trainers who work really well for us. (And who are patient with us.) Willig came at the right time for me to learn how to ride, before I got even older and more set in my ways. I just didn't realize that I didn't know how until he came along.

Looking Back at 2010:
In general, over the course of the year, Willig has gotten friendlier towards me. When he sees me coming to his paddock, he walks to meet me, and while I'm grooming him, he likes to groom me back. He also saved me from what would have been a humiliating deer-attack, despite his profound fear of deer. Then again, he also fell down while playing in a paddock when pretty much every one at the barn was looking.
I also have way more tools in my tool kit when he acts up, so I can feel it coming, and put a stop to it before he gets speed built up like a rocket. This is thanks to both Mike and Shannon, although mostly Shannon since he still pretty much refuses to act up in front of Mike (although other people have confirmed to Mike that indeed, he does act up when Mike is not there).
He did NOT get hives this fall (although he had them at the beginning of the year), and we got a "new" dressage saddle and a new Rambo blanket, and he's gained enough weight and muscle that this year he's going to have to ride with a pad with his jump saddle.
He went to quite a few unrecognized shows and derbies, and did pretty well at most of them. His lowest score was a 5th at a derby but that was where horses were eliminating right and left. He did jump a hopeful fence from a standstill at that show. He got high point or something at the one recognized dressage show we were at (Training level).
I have a lot of blog posts raving about awesome dressage and jumping lessons.
And, he got his portrait taken (and now on display at work and at home) by Mary Cornelius.

* Dressage *
At training level, he scored mostly from 61 - 66%.
I can sit a 1st level test at the trot.
We can also do all the 1st level movements.
We are starting to work on 2nd level movements.
That's pretty &*(*##&*&*(# spectacular, given that I have no idea what we're doing at 2nd level, and I haven't been able to sit the trot my entire life.
He's got awesome lateral movements.

* Jumping *
At the start of the year, he was still bucking and I was hardly ever riding him over fences.
He did so-so at the shows, at some kicking butt and at others, being spooky. While he was consistently in the ribbons, he wasn't consistent at the shows. Shannon has suggested this has to do with who is designing the courses and I should be more selective.
At Caber Pony Club x-country, we actually had fun.
Jumping without stirrups rapidly and dramatically improved my leg position. And I got WAY more comfortable in my jump position.
He ended the year jumping training level height and a scary fence without running out. And no bucking. And he carried me over it, because I was a useless sack of nerves.
J's work with him has really shown. He has built a LOT of confidence.

Goals for 2011:
In an ideal world, we'll sell the truck and trailer and get a "new" lightweight trailer.
But his saddle will probably have to wait until 2012 if the stuff we have on the agenda comes together (like Nepal for a month).
Next year I swear I will give him a better clip job. Poor guy.
And I hope the crap on his nose goes away.

* Dressage *
Keep polishing 1st level movements.
Keep polishing "basics" (heels down, hands still and steady, leaning back, my aids)
Work on 2nd level movements.
Show unrecognized and recognized 1st level.
Start making 1st level freestyle test.

* Jumping *
Keep working on "basics" (heels down, legs defensive in front (being left behind over fence), hands still, even, & steady, better use of half halt and dressage, cluck, use my legs, and use my whip to be the boss and tell him what to do (i.e. ride assertively towards the fence))
Continue to work on confidence - go over anything scary like a cone
Continue to work outdoors/away from security of indoor arena
Continue to work on trails & riding in pasture
Continue to haul to derbies (and maybe other places?) to make travel ho-hum
Work on height at home - be comfortable over 2'6" when competing hopeful; 2'9" when move up to beginner novice (this should be after no more silly spooking at shows - and consistently placing in top 3)
Ideally, ride beginner novice by end of season.
(Next year (2012) we'll add ditches and banks and maybe (!) recognized shows.)

So to repeat a quote from back in August:
"The measure of success is not whether you have a tough problem to deal with, but whether it is the same problem you had last year."
- John Foster Dulles

Willig was a superstar today (me, not so much)

In today's jump lesson, Willig did a few really cool things:
He took the lead and took care of the jumps, without me helping, and with me, frankly, in some places hindering.
He jumped a training level height fence. More than once. Probably he kept his eyes open.
He jumped a new "scary" fence without running out the first time at it.
What were the take aways?
I've become a complete and utter chicken. I barely peeped out one or two clucks at him, and my "aggressive" riding towards the fence was one or two pitiful leg twitches. My whip never moved. My mouth never opened.
Long version:
It was cold out. 20 maybe in the morning. I tried to get to the barn in time to lunge Willig, but like usual, ran out of time, so Shannon gave me a few extra minutes to finish lunging and warm him up. Despite being ridden twice yesterday (jumping with J, going over a piece of garland on a trot pole with me), and being lunged, once I got on him he wanted to shy at the bundle of jump pieces.
So we started with that. Leg yield past it. If he tries to look, ok to use my hand to bend him to the inside (and then release), and if he's a goof, make a small circle and go past it again.
Then Shannon set up two jumps on a circle - roughly 3:00 and 9:00, but angled on the circle instead of perpendicular to the walls. At first, it was a little cross rail with a couple of cones under it and a little vertical. Next it became a little vertical with the cones and a vertical with some small white poles angled, to kind of make a steeplechase, only not really anything like a steeplechase (I can't think of how else to describe it).
Shannon's message was: RIDE him to it and over it, which we did. Remarkably. (Remarkable that we did it, not remarkably well.)
Then we switched directions (and she switched the sides) and he did it again.
Then she made the cone fence taller, and he did just fine.
Then she made the cone fence enormous - training level height which is about the belts on your waist if you wear them like an old person (it looked like - well, frankly, it looked like the top of my car, even from tall Willig's back).
I did NOT want to do this fence, mostly because Willig, when he feels overmatched, will run out, quickly, and/or buck. Which is what he did the first time at it - ran out, tried to buck, but we ran into the corner. Not his worst behavior, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to rattle me.
And so Shannon had us do it again. And he did it, gorgeously. I mean, when he jumps, he is fantastic. It is so easy to stay centered over him and we just FLOAT in the air. It's fabulous.
Only when we landed, I started to cry. Huge, sobbing, like a little kid crying. It was horrifyingly embarrassing.
And then Shannon told us to do it again and I ... couldn't.
So the next few times took a lot of extra laps, mostly because my left hand (the outside hand) was like "hell no we're not doing that again" and would, apparently, take us in a circle to the left (the jump was to the right). Like so much of its own volition, that I was sure Willig was doing it, despite Shannon (and the other rider) telling me they could see ME doing it.
But he did it. Gorgeous both times. The last time he came in a bit short, but managed to get over it pretty gracefully notwithstanding, and thank god Shannon didn't make us do it again.
I haven't ever ridden another horse that jumps like him. When there's actually a bit of height to the fence, he swells up underneath me - kind of like a wave - it's like those rare moments when we hit everything just right in the sitting trot and he collects and he's got impulsion from behind, and the sky opens up and angels sing and it's just ... amazing.
But. I was terrified. I was so proud that yesterday we walked, trotted, and cantered over a pole with garland on it that was maybe 3" off the ground. Today Shannon added 3' (though, thank god, without the garland).
So what to work on?
Well, all the basics. My heels, defensive lower leg, my hands being still and even, and clear, consistent aids and responses.
But then - helping him as we approach the fences - no pulling back, encouraging him with my leg, encouraging him with my voice and whip if I need to.
And being the boss. Willig is scared of the fences (and I'm scared of him) so I need to fake being doubly brave for both of us.
I don't know. Like my dressage lesson, Shannon was thrilled with Willig, and I left feeling like an empty sack of a rider. Not elated that we accomplished it, not excited about doing it again, just - deflated.

Good, but not good, dressage lesson

Today's dressage lesson was a little weird. Mike was really happy with some of it, and there were certainly moments of brilliance, but overall, I felt like I didn't really catch on technically to what we were doing, and like maybe I didn't have good enough understanding of the feel either, to repeat it. So we'll see what happens tomorrow when I try to do it by myself.
We started out on our transitions. (Also, within 5 minutes Mike had to tell me to put my heels down. And then he had to tell me at least 10 more times over the course of the 45 minute lesson. I HATE my heels.) From trot to canter, we have been increasingly slipping into this diving down thing, where Willig's nose goes towards the ground and I tilt forward - I usually bend in half a bit.
So Mike fixed that by watching us struggle for a while, then getting on himself, riding Willig for less than five minutes, putting me right back on him while it was fresh in Willig's head, and then doing it over and over until I got it right.
The interesting part was, while Mike was "poofing up" Willig's shoulder air bag (what makes him so delightful to ride after Mike has been on him, before I deflate him back down again), Willig did an ugly buck and donkey kick. Mike reacted near instantaneously, lifting both hands to lift Willig's head, and then smacking him with the whip. His reaction was so fast I had hardly processed what had happened, but the buck was quite impressive to see from the ground. No wonder he unseats me.
And it made me wonder - he's been naughty going on two months now. Maybe (probably wishful thinking) but maybe because he's having to work harder?
So, the steps for a correct transition up from trot to canter are:
Lean back; think firm core
Tickle with legs and hands
Ask with outside leg sliding up and back
And lift hands up
Do NOT let him rush forward or speed up
He should kind of "jump" up into the canter (it's very, very obvious when he does this)
And then immediately hold him there (thinking collected canter) rather than shove my hands forward and let him immediately nose dive
This work made Willig tired (although it also was hard for him to look at stuff and be spooky) and he got heavier and heavier and heavier in my hands.
When we got it right: sparkly brilliant.
But for the most part, I got it wrong. He'd pick up the wrong lead. He'd stumble a bit. He'd try to dive down. (That's not his fault, he's been diving for like 3 years now with me. Although he knows how to do it properly, I haven't been asking, so he needs to learn to do it proper now.)
Then, this sort of connected with the down transition (from canter to trot). I'd lift him up into my seat (I'd kind of squeeze with my leg and my inner thigh while kind of lifting with my hands, and his back kind of lifts up into my butt) 1-2-3 strides and then lean back just a bit for the down transition. A few of these were the floating ones that are easy to sit. For the most part, we'd go back to jarring around.
I let my reins go too loose (they are always sliding out) and so Mike said to stick between the 2nd and 3rd leather loop on the reins and hold it there. I think one reason why my hands felt "high" is because they're much further up on the reins than I'm used to.
And then we worked for a tiny bit on the sitting trot. I'm getting all stiff and bracing, and Mike was trying to get me to "bounce" on the ball on purpose, but this was really hard.
When we ended, he had us do the "impossible" 10 meter circle (from the jump lesson and the last lesson with him) and it was almost no big deal. A big difference from the last few lessons.
Mike says that I'm very close with the sitting trot, but we have let it slide a bit, and that I just need to "get" the movement. He had me watch J warming up for a bit, but all I can see is that she's pretty close to motionless but obviously doing something. (Just like whatever magic happens when Mike gets on Willig. I really, really, really want to learn how to make his shoulder balloons blow up.)

Cones are ho-hum, but jackets? Oh my!

Thank goodness I have had time and money for extra lessons this month, because Willig has been a handful. Today was my third jump lesson of the month, and we are now unafraid of the cone, but one of us (ahem, me) remains afraid of jackets.
With that ...
I thought Willig might be a bit mellow today, since he had a hard dressage lesson Wednesday, got ridden by me and J on Thursday, and then I got out there and was warming him up just a few minutes before the lesson. Oh, no. He was looking at the little jump, just trying to see what surprises were in store for him today.
Let me back up. J used his "box o' scary stuff" on Thursday to jump him and reported that he doesn't like to trot towards something new the first time and will try to get out of the approach, but that he'll walk towards it no problem, look at it, and then trot it fine the second time. Then I put out the giant Popeye we got (I'll have to take a picture and post it - he is enormous - like the size of a toddler) and Willig snorted the whole way into the arena, but being the crafty human, I thought ahead and brought sugar cubes and gave him random rewards for approaching Popeye. He couldn't get ENOUGH of Popeye after that.
But all of that was forgotten by this morning when we started warming up.
I had a couple "feel" questions for Shannon that I thought I got from my dressage lesson but then didn't seem to have when I rode the next day. Mostly, what is the difference between the body position that means "halt" and the one that means "half halt" (and thus, collect)? Shannon said the "hold". You "hold" until he halts (or does a down transition) but the half halt you ask-release-ask-release, usually while you're also using a leg aid.
She also pointed out that my description (which includes pushing down and tilting forward with my pelvis) could just maybe suggest that I shouldn't be doing it (just describing it makes me want to hollow MY back), and then noticed that my saddle is sitting a bit close on his withers and I should try riding with a gel pad.
This goes with an off-hand remark that one of her boarders/instructors/helpers made while going past us, about how much weight Willig has gained in the last year. And then she said something so obvious that I hadn't thought of it, "I bet that has made him kind of spunky."
Why, yes. Yes, it has. THAT'S why I could ride him two years ago. He was skinny and weak and I could "overpower" him. Now he is healthy and happy and glossy and, yes, spunky.
The two easy take-aways from today's lesson:
- On the flat: Quit riding with my hands and ride with my legs!
- Over fences: Ride towards the fence like I mean it!
The details:
Willig wanted to look to the outside while we warmed up on a 20 meter circle, and we got in this big fight with my hands where I try to crank his head back to the inside while Shannon says "use your leg!" and I use my leg and he ignores me so I crank his neck again. This is EXACTLY what we worked on with Mike and it worked (but nasty tricky Willig is always good and does it immediately and perfectly in front of Mike) so I think I need to master these aids at the halt and walk and then be consistent with them and retrain him away from my heavy hands.
This was to the point where Shannon had me hold onto the breastplate with my outside hand so I would stop using it.
I also ride around with them uneven, and slipping out, and she's constantly telling me to even them up and shorten the reins.
He was a bit frisky, so she had us ride harder than I would - canter, canter faster, trot, walk, canter, canter faster, until he was listening.
Next, we took the same old fence and he popped right over it from the trot.
Then she put out two ground lines, about 7' on either side of the fence (instead of the normal 9'). She asked us to make a 10 meter canter circle, to collect him up (also what we worked on with Mike two days ago) and just like with the bending, we couldn't get our act together. I got so frustrated I actually started to cry. I miss sweet, reliable Mercury. He wanted to look out the door or look at the fence or whatever was looking somewhere else and not working, and then because his head was looking around, I'd start wrastling with my hands like he was a gator and then Shannon would tell me to put my hands down and keep them still so we'd start drifting all over the place (I kept being afraid we were going to run her over) and then we finally got it together enough to go over the fence, which he did perfectly fine. Several times in a row.
Then we tried it the other direction and the fight got worse. He REALLY wanted to look outside, and I REALLY didn't want him to, but then his head would go up and my hands would go up and we'd just go crazy spasticy all over the place in this weird cantery-trotty circle that was nothing like the shape of a circle and at one point I even made a very frustrated "Arrgghhh!"
From this side, oddly, he wanted to put his head up and race towards the fence, which was hard to stop while I was trying to have him all collected up, AND while thinking about leaning back and keeping my heels kicked in front of me.
Plus, those 10 meter circles and the collected canter? Oh my lord. I'm panting and sweating. When I got to the gym an hour later, my shirt was still soaking wet. (Sorry, gross.)
So, the good part was that for all those fences, he just went towards it and he figured it out, and even when he came in funny on the collected ones, he sorted his legs out without just blasting through it. The hard part was the stupid collected canter we just did, just fine, two days ago. I don't know why it didn't work today. The second time he kept picking up the wrong lead over and over and over and over.
Then Shannon turned the jump onto the long line, turned it into a vertical, had us canter it. No big deal, other than the entire approach before we make the U-turn, I start (on the left lead) yanking on my right hand about five minutes ahead. Even when Shannon is yelling "stop pulling on your right hand!" it just keeps pulling and ignoring me.
Then she put the cone under it. No big deal.
Then she put the cone under it and added a diagonal rail. No big deal.
Then she put the cone under it and turned it into a little oxer. No big deal.
Then she put her jacket on it. YIKES! We went shooting off the right and so I ran him into the wall to make him stop.
We walked back to it, he sniffed it, we made a circle and he went over it.
We came around, came around the corner, and he ran out again. This time we came back to it and he jumped it.
So we did it AGAIN and he did it just fine.
And this part is where it turns out it's me. Shannon said he would have jumped it just fine the first time, but I saw the jacket, don't trust him, and so instead of ...
kicking him forward and riding him assertively and defensively to the fence ...
I started pulling back and tightening him up.
She said I need to get faster and more assertive with my corrections (stop being afraid to use the whip and use it at the moment I need to - we also worked on how to hold my reins both in one hand, like a bridge, so I can use the other hand for a quick smack), but if I want to be an eventer, I have to want to go over the jump.
It's become a huge mental block. I'll make these baby steps, like last week's lesson going over the fence kicking as soon as we round the corner and approaching it, but then the second he does something different (raise his head) I panic and revert to curled up, tipping forward.
Shannon said my lower leg has improved a lot this year, so I'm a lot more stable on him, and she concurs with Mike that I need to learn to ride this or accept that I'm going to be a ploddy-around rider the rest of my life.
It was a great lesson, but oh boy. I just want to learn fast and easy, not this long, difficult way.

Well behaved Willig = dressage progress

I got oddly wiped out at work, was dreading more misbehavior from Willig, and knew I had some spare time with the holidays this weekend, so Willig got Monday and Tuesday off and just 20 minutes of lunging before my dressage lesson.
I was sure that finally Mike would get to see him acting up, since it seems like every day it's been something, but noooo ... he was a perfect student the entire ride.
That meant I didn't get any more tools for naughty Willig, but it also meant that we got to go back to working on our 1st and 2nd level lessons.
We started working in the middle and working our way to the scary end, which Willig remained remarkably blase about, even though J was out riding her young horse. A quick look here, a little bit of not wanting to bend to the inside there, one or two ear flicks. That was it for Willig's displeasure and anxiety.
We started with moving off the inside leg.
Here are the steps: Quiver leg; open outside hand (and shoulder!) if needed; smack with whip if being ignored.
So if I want him to bend left and leg yield right, I am keeping my right leg on for "forward", I am quivering my left leg for just a moment, I am opening my right hand and shoulder if I am being grippy and tense, and I am smacking with the whip if he doesn't respond promptly.
We tried it at a standstill, walk, then walking down the long lines, then using it in the "U-turns" of the long lines, then on a 20 meter circle. Worked like a charm.
It was a good lesson in the "overwork" that I do. I don't ask-release. I assskkkkkkkkkk.
Then we worked on a 20 meter circle on the scary end and where to start to maintain the bend past the scary side. So the scary side is 6:00. I start asking with the quivery leg at noon! WAY earlier than I have been doing! When I do that, by the time we get to 6, he is well into his routine.
This sounds so simple, but it was all fairly remarkable. I am (very slowly) catching on with more finesse to a lot of the things Mike has been telling me for months.
Then we worked on the canter. We did some collection before the canter so that he doesn't run into the canter by hurrying and falling in, but lifts up into it. This is sitting, leaning back with shoulders, tightening my stomach, and doing a big quiver with both legs while at the same time lifting my hands. I do 1-2-3 like that, and then SLIDE my outside leg back like it is a pair of scissors that is going to kick my saddle pad, and if he doesn't lift right up into it - the whip! (Which is in my outside hand for canter and walk, but inside hand for trot.)
After just a few tries, Willig caught on. (Mike says he is obviously already trained in all this stuff. An untrained horse wouldn't take just a couple times.)
Then we worked on a canter on a 10 meter circle, where I gave a similar 1-2-3 then trot, so that we would float like a feather into trot instead of plummet like a brick. In the canter, the 1-2-3 with sitting deep, leaning back, tightening my core, and lifting my hands - makes Willig's back lift up. It's like a balloon blowing up. Mike says that's collection. It's the same feeling that is there after Mike rides him, which then deflates as my butt squishes around on his back. Mike says that once I know how to do it, I'll never allow a horse to ride without it again.
Those transitions were awkward and ugly for a while, but every once in a while brilliant.
We ended with a bit of leg yield, and Mike says we need to work a bit on the bend in Willig's neck, but we can do that next.
Take Aways:
- On the 20 meter circle, it helps me to think of it as 100 tiny little leg yields. Like a centa-gon.
- Transitions. The 1-2-3 aid needs to be more obedient and crisp. Leg back for canter. When we canter in a line, speed up, slow down for 3, speed up, make a circle. All of this is so Willig starts to learn that aid does not mean "shift to trot" but "pay attention, we are about to do something different" and that is a whole world of things that we are just peeking at.
- At the canter, my legs need to be long and loose.
- Don't make him do his first "hard" moves in the scary corner. It's ok to make him think and keep him distracted, but don't set him up to fail by overwhelming him.
- Finally, getting to see Mike ride the other day, and Shannon ride on Sunday - one thing I noticed they both had in common was when the horse tried to be naughty, they nipped it right in the bud. I asked Mike my suspicion - it's not that Willig is particularly bad or naughty (I know he's not), it's just that I never rode a difficult horse before (even though I thought I did!), and I need to learn how to do this for all the future horses I'll ride. I need to learn the quick reactions and confidence that Mike and Shannon have. Mike said that's why it's useful when kids learn to put them on the tougher horses instead of the easy ones. He says he has worked with me long enough that he knows I'd get bored with a horse that didn't have Willig's potential. While that's hard to believe right this moment, I made the choice (and I took a long time making it) to keep Willig, not sweet reliable Mercury.

Cone-jumping lesson #2

This morning we tackled the cones yet again. (This makes day #5, with the score Martha - 1, Willig - 3.)
Yesterday I didn't ride because I spent the last two days trying to hammer out a brief, and I wasn't looking forward to coming out and having cone fight #6. In fact, I was dreading it, and I was really, really glad I already had a lesson scheduled with Shannon so I could ride with her help.
I planned a bit of time for lunging, which Willig took full advantage of. He spent 40 minutes alternating between Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Let me give an example:
"Look at me, all handsome with impulsion and a nice working trot."
(30 seconds later)
"Eek! A cone! OMG! A leaf! EEEEEKKKKK!"
(30 seconds later)
"Would you like me to pick up the canter? Yes, ma'am."
(30 seconds later)
"Watch how much I can twist my back in the air while I'm bucking! It's like a horse somersault!"
Etc.
Etc.
We started the lesson a few minutes late because of that exuberance.
Shannon started us on the flat, where Willig strived mightily to spook at the cones while we worked on a 20 meter circle. This was the same old stuff I continue to work on - heels down, legs forward, sitting back, keeping my hands even (that pesky right hand!), prompt response to transition aids, keeping him bent to the inside.
Then Shannon set up cavelleti, which we walked over and then trotted over while going past ... the cones.
Then she set up just a single pole and we'd go over the 3-pole cavelleti, then make a different circle and canter over the single pole.
Then she spread the cavelleti into two, and we cantered through (past the cones), and then she turned them back into the 6" jump with the cone underneath.
All of this was fairly simple. He wanted to look at the cones, so I worked hard on moving him off my inside leg toward the cone, and making sure that I came in straight and kept him moving (not wiggling).
Then Shannon put her jacket on the fence. Oh, lord.
He tried to bolt, and she had told me what to do (STOP him, immediately), so I stuck him into the wall. Then we faced it and stood there, with his neck rigid like a giraffe. Then we took one step. And looked at it - him rigid and quivering. Took a step. He tried to weasel out to one side or the other - nope. Rigid and quivering. Took another step. Still rigid. Another step. Mr. Tense. Another step.
Oddly, as we got to it, he bent down to look at it and then just stepped right over it.
So we did that a few more times at the walk, then at the trot.
This led to today's big breakthrough:
When I get scared or nervous - like Willig has been being a total moron and we're coming around the corner towards a jacket that he thinks is going to rise up and disembowel him - I clench my hands. I am asking him to stop (and more, to run out to the right with that iron right hand), rather than encouraging him to go forward no matter what.
So Shannon had me hold onto the breastplate if I was nervous, and to come in with my legs in front of me, heels down (and oh man, that felt so nice and solid), leaning back, and then ... KICKING him to the jump when he hesitated.
It worked! When I encouraged him, even with my feeble, wimpy, scared kicking, he went over it. When I clamped my hands, he stops. Duh, Martha.
Then Shannon got the pitchfork, and at that moment, J and her mom arrived. Willig was busy looking at them coming in, not paying attention to what Shannon had done, so as we got to the fence, he was all "Holy crap! There's something new down there!" but by then we were on top of it, and so he leapt straight up into the air (what felt like 3') over it. It popped me way up out of the saddle and I kind of landed half on his neck, but stayed on, and provided a good laugh for everyone in the arena. And Shannon said that was a great response - instead of running or stopping or bucking or any of his bad habits, he went OVER it.
Which is lesson #2. PRAISE him when he gets over it, even if it's ugly. I'm slow and stingy with the praise.
Then she added the lunge line draped on it, and then a plastic bin, and then we changed directions, and then she made it a little vertical (from our 6" to 18"), and he handled all of that with his "ho-hum" attitude.
Lesson #3 is that the height is not a problem for Willig. It's the confidence and the scaredy-cat, so I went to Value Village and the Dollar Store and now every single time I ride for the rest of the winter, I am going to put something out and move it around and make him go past it and over it, and work on all this stuff on the flat (or over 18") until the lightbulb stays on that his job is to go over what I point him at.
I am so pleased that he made progress today. Lots of other horses were being silly later, and I was really, really feeling disheartened over how the last week went and what my goals were for him. Him catching on was something I really needed, as well as the tips on how to improve my riding. These are simple, easy fixes that I can see immediate results from, and I only hope that my tiny brain can retain them so we can continue to progress.

In a dressage saddle, cones are no big deal

After our adventure last weekend with the cone-"jumping", I worked Willig one day on my own with cone-cavelleti, and then at my dressage lesson, told Mike about the cone excitement.
Mike wanted to see if he could Willig to continue to act up to help build my tool-kit on what to do in those situations, so we went past the cones on their perch on the wall, then past a cone on the ground, then past a cone on its side on the ground, then past two cones, the cones moved, the cones moved further out, we stopped at the cones, we trotted past the cones, we cantered past the cones, Mike moved away from the cones, and then Mike set up a jump and we jumped the cones - the exact same jump that Shannon made in my Saturday lesson.
"Ho-hum," said Willig.
Once, his ears sort of looked intently at a cone. Once.
Mike was disappointed, and I was a tiny bit, although also relieved that the cone horror had ended.
Or so I thought ...
We worked a bit more on bending to the inside, some counter canter (maintaining the bend! not switching to the other bend!), and I think that was pretty much it. Both Shannon and J came in towards the end of the lesson and marveled at well-behaved Willig (and backed me up that Saturday really was wild).

Then, J's ride was on Thursday, and he started it up all over again. She said that he did a 180 abruptly and without warning. Then he got scared of the far end after a horse walked by. Then she set up the cones and he did the same - came around the corner, saw it, and tried to bolt and buck. (Although she is modest, I doubt he gets as much away with it as he does with me.) She said it took most of the ride to get him to go over it "like a gentleman" which is the nicest way I've ever heard anyone describing a horse who is being a shit.

Fortunately for me, I have some extra time from work this month, so I am packing in the lessons. We'll see what next week holds in the dressage arena.

My new favorite book

"Athletic Development of the Dressage Horse: Manege Patterns" by Charles de Kunffy
The first five chapters are definite must reads for anyone who rides. I just got to Chapter 6, which also has lots of useful tips, but is starting to be the patterns.
I was reading it at the gym just after my lesson today, and I was like "That's it! That's us! That's brilliant!" over and over.
For example:
"The pleasure in riding should be found in seeking, not finding, perfection. For all wise equestrians have known that our ideals are not fully attainable, only approachable. Horsemanship is an art not suitable to those who wish to 'arrive.' It is, rather, an art in which the process of creating is fulfilling."
"The diagnostic process emanates primarily from the horse. He 'tells on his rider' and reveals all about his current condition. This is why during competition the judge uses only the horse's activities as guidelines for evaluating his progress and 'pretends to ignore' the rider's destructive activities." (Destructive is a term-of-art de Kunffy uses as one of two ways the rider influences the horse. The other is harmonizing.)