Hope Horsemanship

Tag: healing

  • Death and Resurrection

    Death and Resurrection

    Everyone dies… but not everyone really lives.

    William Wallace

    As I pondered an appropriate title for this recap I thought it fitting that, on the road to Vermont, my husband stopped to pick up a Garmin Fenix Smartwatch for me as a birthday gift. Next time I might ask if they have a model named: Garmin Victory Lap, or a Garmin Nailed-it…

    Pair of Garmin Fenix Watches

    The Vermont 100 starting line had an eight month lead up from conception to reality — if you don’t count the nine years it took us to crest the first 100 mile finish line in 2023. This was clearly the biggest overall investment in a goal over my decade engaging in equine endurance events. 

    As the event drew near, I realized the larger the investment, the more pressure to produce a favorable outcome builds. What is the point of doing this if it isn’t to ride over the finish line? Most of us know on some level this is not the whole truth. Still, it is a struggle for the goal driven to not only believe there is more to life than a favorable outcome, but to live (and ride) in the peace that larger reality brings.

    I have been binge listening to Jaime & Donna Winship interviews  this year and they have been transformational in my life. The insight and questions have challenged me to up my game when it comes to walking in the truth, and it’s meant being real about what I want to believe, what I know in my head, and what is being lived out in my actions – revealed by my emotional system. I have come to realize, that regardless of what knowledge I have accumulated, my emotional system tells on me, and if I slow down and address it, like it or not, I will find what I really believe, and what I’m actually afraid of.

    I thought the Vermont trip was a test of what my horse was made of, what I was capable of, and if we had what it took to take on an unknown 100 mile ride, and succeed by crossing the finish line. I was probably wrong. 

    As the departure neared it seemed like the resistance grew. Vehicle issues, dog fights, horses escaping in a storm, an entire massive batch of dog food is ruined (this was a huge problem actually!), then bad traffic on our first day of travel leaving us sitting in unseasonably hot temperatures for over an hour— which is not ideal for a horse on her way to a 100 mile event. Each disruption gave me pause and as I wondered “what is this about?” I always heard the nudge: Keep going, do the next step until you don’t have one.

    Shady grass yard for Khaleesi in PA

    I am grateful for the warm welcome from Matt’s family at our layover in PA. Khaleesi had a lovely shaded back yard with grass where I set up her temporary pen, and we enjoyed family time with eggplant and cheesecake!

    The second day of travel brought new territory for both of us as we continued onward and on my birthday we arrived in Vermont— through dark clouds and a rain storm that gave way to a cool evening and stunning colors in the sky. We set up camp alone in the area set aside for smaller trailers, near the start and finish line. This evening I will always remember as a moment of beauty and quiet as we had the entire field to ourselves and the glory of Vermont stretched out on all sides of us. 

    We had arrived.

    Ride camp Thursday evening after the storm

    We woke up to cool breezes and peeking out the tent we watched the grasses dance in the early light. It was sublime and Matt and I took a moment to take in the glory of the last moments of peace and calm we may have for a while. Check in and Vetting in was not available until Friday afternoon, so we puttered about with details, and found a delightful little market and cafe with home made bagels and much needed ice. Camp began to bustle through the day as 450 runners came and went to register for the foot race that would share the trail with us horse riders. When the time came, we checked in with the ride management, then took horse #109 (that’s Khaleesi) to the pre-ride vet inspection. 

    This is where things began to get disruptive again. K had a resting heart rate of 36BPM which is excellent, and her hydration and overall condition earned A scores. The head vet saw something slightly off in her trot out and asked us to try again. We did. He still thought something was questionable and asked us to trot a third time and included another vet to watch. Not enough to hinder us, but enough to plant a seed of doubt, they marked her card with a “B” and suggested I stay aware of the potential something might be off. 

    Checking out the starting line the day before the race.

    This is not what you want to hear the day before you embark on a single-day 100 mile endurance race. 

    I mulled over what it could mean. We visited the ride farrier, Howard, who became a new friend! Marcus had warned that her feet were getting soft from such a wet summer, and I wanted to have her nails clenched in case they were getting loose. Howard chatted with us freely in his Scottish lilt as he checked all four feet and added one nail for good measure in a weak spot. He was a positive and kind guy, and didn’t charge us for the time he spent checking the nails. He wished us the best and promised he’d keep his eye out for us through the day. 

    Still, I had concerns. 

    It clouded my evening. I was nervous. Do I go out with concerns? Once again I asked the question: what should I know, what do I do about it? And I sensed the reply so clearly: You do the next thing you know to do, until there is no next thing. 

    We spent some time looking up references for #109 and I held onto the words from Joshua 1:09 that reminded me to have courage and do not fear because God goes with you. Ok then. We show up to the starting line, and we go. We do the next thing until there isn’t a next thing to do.

    The runners leave at 4am, and what an experience that was! They line up and hundreds of headlamps jog under the starting line turning up the dirt lane past our camp site with cheers and cowbells. Khaleesi was beside herself with the experience! A line of cheering mass in the dark with headlamps bouncing to and fro. She had never seen anything like it. I had been warned of this and she was walking on lead with me when they departed and it took a moment to get her settled back down. 

    Before the start

    The trail opened for horses an hour later, and the eleven, 100-mile equine competitors left camp with my mind on the only problem I thought I was facing: would I end up with a lameness issue today? The trail is monstrously hilly from go. The exit from camp is significantly downhill on a gravel road. I had been walking Khaleesi around camp for 15 minutes, but she was not adequately warmed up for these hills and to make matters more concerning, her adrenaline was way up. Her head was in the air like a llama, and her trot felt like a jackhammer. If I had reason to be concerned she might hurt herself, the tension she was packing along with us trying to race at a high speed in the cool pre-dawn was not helping. 

    I unloaded all my tools to bring her mind back to the present and not run as if for her very survival with the other horses. I was mostly unsuccessful in getting her to relax into the work and had to negotiate with her the best I could. It is common for her to run faster in the morning and I work with her to find a good speed where she is moving freely and soft through her body. Considering the morning was cooler than it had been and her adrenaline was up- I now also worried about potential tie up. Tie up is somewhat mysterious, but the root is usually associated with a horse over running their ability through adrenaline and going into a metabolic state that can be dangerous. This is not something I have worried about with this horse previously, but something about this morning had her running on more adrenaline than I’ve seen. 

    It took almost 30 minutes to get a more relaxed mental state. We rode on this way for a few miles, now in last place, but I have been there many times and wasn’t concerned. She had leveled out, was trotting beautifully, strong, and relaxed.  We may cross the finish line last, but a finish was my goal. We had launched past the danger zone and were well on our way to the first checkpoint at mile 16. This was not a true vet hold, but a 10 minute pass through where the vet gave a quick look as you departed to make sure all systems appeared to be sound.

    It was about mile 13 when the unraveling began.

    Flying along with a beautiful balanced trot I was enjoying the early morning and greeting the runners we passed, when things went into slow motion. First I felt my left foot was not catch the stirrup bar. Then I realized I was coming off balance and wasn’t able to recover. I reached around Khaleesi’s neck and when it was clear I was going down, I swung myself around her neck and landed on the ground in front of her. She was aware something went wrong and when I landed at her feet she came to a stop above me. I remember my calves both going into a tension spasm, but otherwise I was perfectly fine and so was she. How embarrassing, I thought, and assured the runners who had witnessed the crash that I was totally fine. Next I saw my left stirrup and it’s leather on the ground and realized I hadn’t simply come unbalanced in a poor riding moment, the stirrup had come off the saddle. 

    My hope as I stood up, was the leather had simply worked its way off the bar it attaches to. The truth was worse. The metal bar itself had sheared off and there was nothing on the saddle to reattach the left stirrup.

    Broken metal stirrup bar

    I had not planned for this.

    In all the potential things that could go wrong. This was not one of the things I had even considered. 

    I began walking next to K, carrying the stirrup leather in hand and wondered: is this the end for us? Already only 13 miles in? Can we recover? 

    Again I heard the reminder: do what comes next, until you cannot make another move. Do the next thing. Keep moving.

    Service in this area of Vermont is notoriously horrible, but miraculously both Matt (already waiting at the checkpoint) and I (three miles out) had service. The only thing I could think was to try my alternate saddle. However, there were issues:

    • 1) the saddle was in the horse trailer at ride camp. Ride camp (I learned then) was 30-35 minutes away from the check point by vehicle. At least an hour round trip.
    • 2) the alternate saddle was the exact make and model, but it was a “regular” width. The saddle that I was using that fits her properly with the ideal pad set up is an “X” or a wide width. 

    The broken piece of metal would cost us around an hour, and it would mean riding in a saddle that was not the right size. An analogy would be if I had two pairs of identical shoes, the ones that work best for me a size 9, and the other pair a size 8.5. In this example we could say I wear the size 9 with thick socks that help protect my feet from blisters and give the comfort I need to run at my best. If I have to switch to the size 8.5, I will have to use thin socks with less protection and will not be as comfortable running. 

    I walked the three miles into the pit stop and chatted with the vet and land owners while waiting around 30 more minutes for Matt to return with the saddle. We changed the saddle quickly as possible, and trotted down the hill with a green light from the vet to meet everyone at the first vet hold at mile 22. 

    My first go with the other saddle I had left too much padding and had to stop and get off twice to adjust as the pads, but we moved as fast as we could and arrived at Vet Check 1 to find everyone waiting to help us. The vet was taking the heart rate of the horse as we were pulling off the saddle and her pulse dropped very fast to get our hold clock starting as quickly as possible. She looked great and the vet wondered aloud to us why we had a “B” score for her trot the day before, he thought her trot looked great. 

    Arrival at vet hold 1

    After the 30 minute hold we left with almost zero padding under the saddle, and 22 more miles until the next hold. The “rolling hills” were relentless. I had expected hills, but these were mini-mountains. Thankfully she is aces as trotting down the hills and staying in a relaxed form, but every time I thought we hit some level ground, around a corner was another brutal climb. I could feel the saddle impeding her free moving trot and meant a shorter stride. We were running against the clock, and doing it alone except for the runners which did keep us company. The drawback was they often would walking up the big hills, and when I could inspire K to get some trotting intervals up the hills, and as soon as we came to a walking human she put on the brakes and walked with them instead!

    Still, we ran into vet check 2 with a few minutes to spare and met again with the royal treatment. She was pulsed immediately to the parameter of 64 while pulling tack and they started our hold clock immediately. Here we saw Howard again who offered to trot out Khaleesi while a volunteer brought me iced water. He even checked her nails and gave a quick tighten up to be sure. It was wild to watch the whole team working my horse while Matt helped me with my own needs. She passed with all perfect scores and was surprisingly tolerant of all the pampering. They even brought over a pop up tent and fed her apples while continuing to sponge her as we were going into the heat of the day. 

    Volunteers swarm around the royal steed helping us at vet hold 2

    This hold was 50 minutes and then we were pushing the clock to do 17 miles with more nasty climbs (one I think was called suicide!) to make it to mile 62. I had my doubts we could sustain this all the way to the finish line, but the reminder came: do the next thing until there isn’t a next thing to do. 

    The climbing had been grueling and I kept wondering if it would level out. The total elevation we climbed from starting line to Vet Check 1 was 3,200 feet. The 22 miles from Vet Check 1- Vet Check 2 was 3,786 feet. I suppose we got a little relief on the third loop as the 17 miles brought just under 3,000 feet of climbing. The hour we lost in the cool of the morning to get ahead was very costly.

    This mid-afternoon is where she generally begins to drag. It’s hot and here the bugs were voracious. When the flies got really bad she would stop and shake her head and refuse to move onward. She kept begging me to stop in a large grass patch and eat.

    Gorgeous views from the high meadows

    Unfortunately- we did not have time for that while also racing the clock (she had great gut sounds – this was not an issue). I wanted her to be able to graze and go, but once she started eating it’s all she could think about. I could tell she wasn’t exactly “tired” she was hot, distracted, and irritated. 

    And in the background, the clock… always ticking away.

    It was about three miles more to the next vet check when we passed by the runner aid station they call “Margaritaville,” one other frustration was not knowing where the horse vet checks are and for example Vet check 2 showed up almost 2 miles late according to my GPS which had me concerned. If I had been familiar with the course I might have had more confidence, I might have pushed through here, but I wasn’t even sure in 3 miles the mirage of vet check 3 would actually appear. 

    After the hills, the heat, the clock, the flies, and the constant nagging to give up and only eat the grass… I faced the gauntlet of Margaritaville. We had just gotten a little steam rolling and then there are people lined up on both sides of the road waiting to crew for their runners, canopy tents set up, and cheers and chaos and actually lots of fun for humans- but it’s a potential death zone for a horse not used to such things. Each one of these aid stations slowed us down as K navigated what to her was totally new and concerning, and truthfully it about took all the hope out of me as we walked through the town with her worrying about the cowbells and the little kids running out in front of us excited to see the horse, waving flags or shaking bells. 

    It is possible if I had gotten through the Margaritaville gauntlet and ran her up the hill into the checkpoint, we MIGHT have just made it and gotten out for one more loop. It is possible if we had gotten out there we MIGHT have taken the slightly easier next 11 miles and found the day cooling off, and her second wind coming up, and we MIGHT have begun to beat the clock that was breathing down our hind end. I’ll never know.

    Instead, when I saw a house that offered horse water and carrots, I stopped and got off my horse. This act was basically where the white flag came out and went up the flagpole, because I think I knew getting off and taking time here would mean surrender to the clock. I had not taken the time to electrolyte during the 17 miles and I wondered if that was working against us. I allowed someone to offer K a carrot, and I took a glass of cold water (my hydration pack wasn’t empty but it was warm). After a few minutes I got back on Khaleesi and I insisted we keep moving, but I didn’t push. We got into the hold about 4 minutes after the pulse time had passed and were considered “OT” or Over Time, and no longer in the race. 

    After pulling her tack, the remaining vet checked her and with a heart rate of 48 and all A scores, we loaded up on a trailer to base camp. She was healthy and her gait remained solid through the 62 miles without a hitch. All the things I had prepared for and been concerned about did not pose a problem. The extra calcium plan for the heat and humidity was in place, no metabolic issues came. Her shoes held up great. No issues with her gait. Looking back I did a pretty good job getting this non-arabian ready for a challenging 100 mile ride. Regardless of that, equipment failure still turned into a failure to complete. 

    It was disappointing, but I think I had a pretty good outlook. In retrospect, the day before when we heard a vet tell us we might have a problem, I asked: please let me start this race, and please, I want to see some of the trail… we’ve come so far. And as if a response to that request, we saw over half of the trail. We got three full hard loops in and saw 62 miles of the Vermont 100. 

    I thought the test was going to be about getting across the finish line, but in looking back, I think it was a test to reveal what is under my own skin when the cost is high and the outcome is loss. The only way to see what is there is when things get real. The investment has to be real, and the loss has to be equally real.

    The night before the ride, as I stressed over the potential lameness, I looked squarely at the fear that if I did not finish this ride I might feel like I was a wasted investment. I felt if I could not pull off a finish that I was unworthy. That I had less value. I was worried I might carry the label: Failure. I think that “B” grade helped prepare me, because I sat with my devoted husband and in tears I admitted that I felt I will have let him and everyone down if I can’t get this done. 

    And we both knew that was not true. The pressure was internally generated, and completely unnecessary. 

    He assured me that regardless of the outcome, he was here… WITH me. And I kept hearing a reminder over the months and in that moment that also God was with me. Regardless the outcome. As I navigated between the lies and the truth, like a sharp double edged sword separating bone from marrow, tendons and joints, I think the lie was cut away and the truth remained. 

    Jaime & Matt give K a break at a rest stop in NY

    The truth transforms us. The truth sets us free. The truth allows us to respond to what comes and be disappointed without being devastated.

    No matter what came in the test of the event, I had reached for something beyond what my comfort zone could claim. I had dreamed big and made plans. I walked out those plans day after day, and not only did the preparations, but wrote about them and shared them transparently with others. I took the risk because my real identity was not tied to the outcome and I knew I would still be “me” if I shared a victory or a defeat with the stakeholders.

    In the end, only a few days of hindsight, and hours of being able to process, I can see that I carry a failure to complete on my public record, but I am not a failure. My identity is a bold, adventurous daughter of a creator king. That Father created a beautiful world for me to explore. I love a challenge. I want to live fully the life I have been given, and I’m willing to take a risk that things may not go as planned, and then pivot and roll with the next steps. I want to be fearless and free in the truth, and to walk in grace and love as I run and fall, as I encourage others, and help pick them up along the way. 

    I have heard it said that it is only in being willing to die that we may fully live. As Dr. Luke wrote centuries ago: Those who seek to preserve their lives will lose it, but whoever is willing to lose their life will find it.

    Photo taken between checkpoint 1 and vet check 1. Makes me smile as I imagine the hope we held after the trouble began. Ben Kimball Photography.

    In a way, the trailer ride home from mile 62 was like a death. The death of a hoped for outcome. But I have experienced that to move from empire building to living in the kingdom, death is only a door to resurrection. Like the Phoenix (Fenix!), there is a level up that only death of the old can bring forth. I do believe that this story is a good one, and the little voice that came as I looked at my broken saddle from the ground at mile 13 (“Don’t be afraid, this is a gift!”) is somehow right… Even this is a gift, bigger and better than I can see at the moment.

    Possibly the most interesting question that still lingers, floating up in the aftermath of the great adventure, the one I am not certain how to answer honestly… remains… 

    If I knew then how this would play out… would I still have gone?

    Howard the farrier brought us a special momento to honor our spirit with the ‘Broken Tack Challenge’ award. I treasure it!
  • Does my horse love me?

    Does my horse love me?

    I love my horse, but I’ve been asking the question recently: Does my horse love me? Followed by the related questions of do horses love anywhere near the way humans think of love? Does it matter? Can we be friends? What DO I want from my horse and what can I give her? What is best for her needs as a creature in my care?

    I came across an article by Australian horseman Ross Jacobs (Why Can’t I be my Horse’s Best Friend?) where he considered if we are looking for horses to fill an unreasonable expectation of relationship, or if we expect to fill an unreasonable relational position in their world. 

    Today, horses rarely exist as a necessity for our daily lives. Few of us rely on them for life and livelihood. Most of us keep horses by choice for enjoyment. We might participate in an equine sport, trail ride for pleasure, or even use our horses in some chore or farm job, but rarely do we in the developed west depend on them for primary travel or farm work. Most people I know who have horses care for them as a large outdoor pet. Most people I know love their horses. Regardless of the actual statistics, I don’t think I’m alone in saying I love my horses and admitting the desire for my horses to be my friend. 

    With an animal so different from a human, is this possible to the extent I wish it? How would I measure this friendship? Is it a reasonable wish?

    I am also a dog person. Dogs already have the nickname of “man’s best friend” and there must be a reason we gave that title to the dog and not the horse. One thing we share with the canine is the predator nature. We both work for food, and have the instinct to survive by overcoming and climbing as close to the top of the food chain as possible. Horses are not like us, in fact they are naturally a direct opposite of us in how they perceive and process their environment and how they go about their day.

    My dog Samwise really is my little buddy. He regularly chooses to be close to me, he is always excited when I come home. When I sit in the mornings to read and write with my coffee, he always comes and sits as close as possible, if he isn’t touching me he isn’t close enough. If he engages in a behavior that disconnects our relationship he is quick to repent and is always seeking to reestablish connection. These are evidence for my case that Sam is a kind of animal friend to me.

    Samwise and Peggy Sue cuddled up by the warm fire… friends!

    When I look at horses, they don’t generally want to touch each other, at least not unless there is a reason- usually being the need to correct a horse for inappropriate behavior. Occasionally there are mutual grooming sessions, but this seems more like meeting a need than the dog attribute of laying close together in a puppy snuggle pile.

    I am certain horses are capable of thought and emotion. I don’t know how complex these systems get. I believe horses don’t lie, and they don’t plot and scheme together for future barn take overs. I don’t believe they think over how to complicate life for us on the next trail ride. They learn by experience what works out for them and what does not. They are fabulous at observing and learning patterns and can be incredibly smart when it comes to connecting and even chaining together patterns. I believe as prey animals, they are wired to flee problems, discomfort and imbalances in their environment in order to survive another day. I also think horses have preferences and distinct personalities.

    What would it look like for a horse to love a person? I remember Iva talking about her experiences at various local schooling barns as a young teen. She has a quiet spirit and has always been keenly observant. She told me that she would look around at the horses and the horse girls and see them cooing about how much their horse loves them and to her eye it seemed clear to her that the horse was rather uncomfortable or unhappy in their time together. Horses are subtle creatures. Would a twelve year old girl who wanted to believe her horse loved her and was her friend be able to tell if this were actually true? Do we still do this as horse girls grown up? Do we really want to know?

    This essay by Ross Jacobs grabbed my attention because I had been thinking about my own connection to Khaleesi and how it has developed over time. I started her from an unhandled four year old without much human baggage, but she has still had about four different owners in her fifteen years, all of them being me. She was my first horse to start as a filly and the process of growing up with her certainly impacted me, and I’ve experimented with a few different horsemanship avenues along the years that have impacted how she felt about spending time with me. 

    In my earliest years with owning horses as an adult, I remember considering my first horse (Faygo) my friend, therapist, confident, and adventure buddy. Today I see that was an immature starting point of understanding these majestic creatures and how we might relate in a way that is good for both them as us. 

    Now I cringe at the memes that claim horses are therapists. In fairness I know it is therapeutic to be in nature and it has helped me grow as a human being to understand my horse and how we relate on a more simplified relational level and truth about myself has been revealed in the process. So if you would champion those truths as a reason to call horses “therapy” then I stand with you. However I can’t get behind the practice of subjecting my horse to carrying my emotional baggage for the long term, and fix heart issues I don’t want to put the work in to resolve. I attempt to bring my honest, best self to work with my horse as I want to see her honest best as well. In nature, horses do not want other horses in their herds who have emotional instability, and I think it’s quite rare in nature. Emotional instability is inherently dangerous to survival. I think most emotional instability in horses we see comes from experiences with humans.

    As I ponder the behavior of my main working horse, Khaleesi, I have been on a journey to increasing her freedom and choice within the confines of the fact that we always have limitations within our freedom, and every choice comes with consequences. Still, I have been letting go of trained pattern auto-pilot behaviors (push-buttons) in favor of as conversational real-time communication as I can get between two such different creatures and she and me. What is the impact of this between us? I will admit I do not think that horses (or dogs for that matter) have the kind of love that humans are able to engage in, however I want my animals to want to spend time with me. I am not sure if I would call this friendship today with my horse, but I certainly want a solid positive connection. 

    What does this look like? Maybe take a moment and ponder this yourself and consider your own answer? 

    Would it look like her coming right over to me in the pasture when I arrive? Seeking to be close to me when I’m in her space? Putting her head in the halter ready to go do something together? As I look at my short list, I see they are all physical signs. 

    What is the reality of our experience? It varies. If I don’t have a halter she is often curious because usually I have some form of food. She comes right to me when I’m carrying hay or a warm meal. Is this friendship and connection? Possibly! But it’s not about me, it’s friendship and connection with hay and feed!

    When I do have a halter, sometimes she stands in place while I approach her and when she is ready she always dips her head at least slightly into the noseband. But some days she runs around like a maniac and kicks out her hind legs with clear messages of: NO! I’m not going with you right now. If I am not clearly carrying food, she almost never approaches me looking to go into the halter and see what I had in mind. I think there are times in years gone by this horse was more reliable and easier to catch in the field. That was when I had more training and conditioned responses built in. Is this good or bad? What is behind these behaviors?

    I do know horses like patterns. When I had the approach of more natural horsemanship, direct pressure driving, and there’s right answer- let me increase the pressure until you give it to me, I think she was slightly more likely to be caught sooner. Maybe horses appreciate the confidence of a right answer and a conditioned response they don’t have to engage in thinking. Humans are not much different in that respect. Apparently most of us spend a vastly higher percentage of formulative conversations than generative ones. We prefer the how are you? I’m fine thanks for asking… exchanges. We get uncomfortable if someone takes what is supposed to be a formulative and quick exchange and turn it into a generative conversation that is less predictable. And yet there is almost no true connection in a formulative conversation. Connection is more time consuming and risky. I find myself drawn to generative conversations and a generative life. Maybe some horses find the formula, rules and auto-pilot way of life a bit simpler. Maybe my horse, on some days, would rather stand at peace in the sun than have to work out together how to get something done. Is that so wrong? 

    Maybe even that assessment is too complex. When we set up patterned behavior and horses learn that compliance is the best path, they seem to be agreeable. They don’t have much freedom of thought or choice when we enter the picture. If we have a halter, they answer is go with the person and do the things. Conditioned response learned from patterns in experience. I do think horses some horses who are trained to respond in a way an owner prefers is seen as the horse being willing or being a buddy/friend. It may or may not be true if the horse has learned this is the response that means less trauma. They can respond with the “right” answer and still not feel very good about it and still have their mind over with their buddies in the sunshine. I’ve found the horses are actually pretty good at pretending to be present where the body is, going on autopilot, but actually having their mind somewhere else. This works out ok, until it doesn’t! Easy, simple, and routine doesn’t mean bad or good. In any relationship, lack of conflict does not equal strong connection. Of course regular conflict does not equate a good or strong connection either.

    On the other hand, the horse who does always approach me in the field regardless if I have food, a halter, or a rake to clean the run in, is Wyoming. For many years I could assure you this horse was NOT my friend and we did not have a good connection. I would guess she approached me because I was an invader of their space and their current life situation and she had the curiosity to find out why and possibly intervene if she could. This horse taught me that the act of approaching in the field was not an indicator that the horse wanted to be my friend. We have come a long way, she and me, toward a more positive relationship, but it’s in her nature to come greet me whenever I enter the field, where its’s still Khaleesi’s quieter nature to watch me from a distance and conserve her energy as she stands in the sun or munches on hay. 

    Some horses simply seem to have different personalities and different ways of reacting. I’ve known some people who are constantly looking for a different horse, sometimes they finally seem to find one that suits them. I think they have in mind what a “good horse” is like, and the horse that fits that mold in how they approach the world is the type of horse that will work for them. 

    What about the days when Khaleesi stands quietly as I come in with a halter and then when I approach her, hold out my hand and she touches with her nose briefly, and then waits while I step over to her neck and offers the halter- she lowers her nose and then walks with me when I lead her out? She doesn’t approach me, but is the fact that she is calm and relaxed enough to wait for me to come to her a sign that we are, if not actually friends, at least on good terms? My presence did not disturb her relaxation in peace. So far in her life I have observed she is a naturally aloof mare, maybe this response aligns with her honest nature.  Maybe it’s similar to the truth that there are people who naturally greet and hug everyone and people who tend to stay in place until the new arrival makes their way over to them and then has a pleasant conversation without feeling the need to physically touch with a hug? Is one bad and one good? Or is one simply preferable to certain people and less inviting to others?

    What about the days when K is downright difficult to catch and tries to evade me at least for a time? Do we have a bad connection? Or do we have a strong one? Does she know she has the freedom to express her thought about leaving the pasture? As a lead mare, she usually has reasons on these days that might have nothing to do with me. She may sense a dangerous presence nearby and doesn’t want to leave Wyoming alone. She may sense something in the environment and would prefer the safety of her yard to going for an adventure where the danger lurks. The fact that she is communicating clearly she does not want to be caught and haltered may not mean she doesn’t like me today. However I think if she ran every time I came to find her, that would seem an indication of how she feels about me, or the work she is going to be asked to do.

    I don’t have confident answers to these questions. I am also not sure if they have any relevance. Is it ok that the twelve year old girl thinks her horse loves her when someone with a little more experience can see the signs that the horse is incredibly uncomfortable? I’ve known people who always carry some kind of treat for their horse when they go out in the pasture, and they will tell you their horse loves them. I’m both a little jealous because who doesn’t love their horses always coming to greet them, but I know too much to allow myself to think the horse loves me in that case, so it wouldn’t work for me anyway. From an outside perspective however, when the horse comes running to them it sure looks more convincing than my horse jogging away with two hind feet kicked up in my direction.

    It might be fun and make us feel good to convince ourselves that horses feel the warm and fuzzies about us, but then what? What happens when something tests the connection? Will it survive? Does that matter?

    Yes. This I do know. Our connection to the horse will be tested someday when their brain or instinct wants to do something very different from what we need them to do where our safety could be on the line. If we don’t have a strong, healthy, real, connection we can lean into, it’s likely the horse will not be able to stay engaged when things go sideways, we can end up on the ground, in the hospital or if we’re lucky just a good scare. I think a fair amount of equestrian injuries come from deep misunderstanding of what is going on between the person and the horse. In fairness, even with a good connection things can go wrong quickly leaving us injured, but there are times that connection can save our lives because we need the horse to set aside it’s instinct to stay with us and think through what we are asking. If the connection is true, it makes a big difference when the turkeys (or grouse) leave the road. If we aren’t honest about what’s really going on between us we may not know the kind of thin ice we’re actually walking- especially if we are lucky enough to not fall through the cracks very often.

    Just like between people, this kind of connection and relationship has to be built through experience over time.

    Ross asserts that one challenge we face in really becoming a friend to our horses, is that they do not see their days as meant for flying lead changes, trail riding for hours, having their hooves trimmed, or whatever else we want to do with them… He observes being a horse is about grazing, drinking, snoozing in the sun, chasing away a pesky new herd mate, and etc. One problem is we are generally an interruption in their day, not a true part of their lives. They might be willing to engage in our desired activity, but take care not to automatically equate obedience with willingness. 

    Ross asserts that it is not bad to want to be your horse’s friend, or hope your horse wants to spend time with you. I agree for sure. I suppose I wonder how much a predatory human on two legs can provide in terms of what we look at as a true companion to a horse. He found the times he went long-trekking for hundreds of miles were the closest he came to possibly becoming enough a part of his horse’s life experience that they had a bond that became almost a friendship. He was not an interruption anymore, they were doing life together 24/7 as they moved across the landscape each day. I suppose folks who actively work their horses in real life jobs have a tighter bond than I am likely to even have with my horses, even as an endurance rider who occasionally spends entire weekends together.

    Yet this is also ok. Is it possible I might go too far in what my expectations are for a willing partner to be also a best friend (when I have time for that friendship)? Does a horse have to love me in order to be a great partner? 

    Maybe these answers are as unique as there are people with horses. For me, I am beginning to question if we have to be friends the way humans think of friendship. Some people might feel the need for their horse to come running every time they enter the scene or their feelings are hurt. For me, right now, I think it’s more honest that my horse doesn’t have the same response every day, and I do want her to be have integrity of thought and feeling more than a compliance mindset. There are probably people not ready to have generative conversations with their horses, and compliance and obedience is going to be the best they have in this season. When you begin to allow your horse a real voice in the conversation, like with any relationship that enters a deeper level, we may hear things we don’t really want to hear. Ignorance can be bless! Sometimes when my friend Tom Moates helps a horse come out of a shut down and compliant place the people don’t really like what had been safely buried down in there. They’d prefer the shut down, dulled out, compliant horse, in many ways that’s easier than having real conversations and figuring out that the horse needs more than we have the tools to provide yet.

    One thing I am sure of, I want my horse, even if she sees me as an interruption in her day, to not find our time together painful, confusing, or anxiety creating. I do want to know what my horse thinks and feels, and I want to be able to have influence over those thoughts and feelings. I want the work I do with my horse to leave her in a better place physically, mentally and emotionally better than she was before. I fail at this from time to time, but I believe it is possible. I want our connection to be based as much as possible in truth and reality. May I honor my horse for the wonderful creature she is and not who I want to think she is, as I know I have done in years past. My understanding of this over time may shift with new experiences, but may I always be curious and open minded to see what is actually in front of me and not a projection of what I wish were so.

  • Avoidance

    Avoidance

    Have you considered avoidance?

    In my somewhat “off grid” experiments with Wyoming this fall, I am changing my approach to her education away from the direct pressure paradigm and trying to lead her mind and emotions by guiding instead of driving. I am finding myself yet again back at the basics with this mare. Last winter I spent four months with complete liberty and no halter-lead rope where she had to choose to engage if we did anything. This winter I suppose we’ve stepped it up as now I find us in the step of putting the halter on and teaching her to be led.

    I had a friend take a video Monday of the process on a challenging high alert day because the farm cows were being moved around in the horse field so her environmental antennae were fully tuned and her ability to focus on me and consider being willingly restrained was very difficult. What a great opportunity to see how deep the cracks are in this trust foundation.

    What I saw in great clarity when I watched the video was avoidance. 

    In the video you can see Wyoming is not comfortable with the idea of being confined by wearing the halter attached to a lead rope. Her personality is fear based and her flight mode is easily triggered. Her freedom is her most sacred need. [Hm, they say our horses teach us about ourselves….] If she is attached to me I would interfere with her perceived need to move those feet (fast) when she feels enough worry to flip to the sympathetic nervous system and go into flight. I have come to understand more than ever for this mare to partner with a human it is going to take massive trust on a higher level than the average horse.

    When I position myself in the place I would put the halter on her, she is pressed to discomfort but not thrown over her threshold. This is an important factor in the work with her. If I break through her threshold I push her into full on flight-fight-freeze mode and we cannot do any mental work there. Note that with many horses you can work in that mode, but you are training reactions not responses and neither of you can access the horse’s brain when they are in sympathetic response mode. What I hope to find is the place where she is slightly uncomfortable because I’m pressing on that bubble but haven’t exploded it. This is where she can think and learn, and my hope is finally get some traction on progress with our partnership that is lasting.

    How I know in this video that I have not gone into full flight mode is she is never attached to a tool (she has her freedom) and she doesn’t exit stage left. Still it is clear she is pressed into discomfort because she does “leave”, but in more subtle ways. 

    Avoidance.

    I knew it was happening but I saw it with more clarity from the 3rd perspective eye of the video. She didn’t want me to put the halter on and I could see this in the ways she would disconnect from being present with me. She would turn her full attention to the cows (mental). She walked a few steps away (physical). She “nipped” at me with her lips (emotional). She tried to ignore me through eating grass (how many of us have avoidance issues that turn us toward food or drink?).

    My response to these was not punishment. The goal of punishment is to change a behavior. While I am pressing on her comfort zone it only makes sense she is going to have to sort out what to do about it and telling me she is uncomfortable. I don’t want to change the behavior, I want to change her mind.

    In order to do this I will stay in the place where it’s pressing in but not exploding and make sure she knows I hear her. I let her know I hear her by not crossing the line she is most worried about. She is not uncomfortable with my presence around her body in any place. She is uncomfortable with the next step of losing her freedom to me (halter). So I stay in the conversation with her and let her know I will not force her to make the next step. This is how I build trust with her. I stay present with her exactly where she is until she can make the change mentally that she is safe with me and can relax.

    In the video I talk through the conversation I have with her as she uses various avoidance ideas to disconnect and not stay present with me in the uncomfortable place. I can tell you for sure- I can see that this mare is afraid of punishment. She is afraid of correction. I have to communicate with her so the correction is helpful and gentle while still guiding her toward a better path. If it’s too much she overreacts and goes into flight-fight. So when she “leaves” me mentally I do something to bring her back. This is part of the experimental part for me because I have to always find that sweet spot where she feels heard and led into a better place not thrown into sympathetic response mode. I wiggle my lead rope sometimes, I annoy her grazing attempts with my boot (and you can see how that works out!), I stay in step with her when she takes a few steps. 

    This kind of work takes unique understanding of each horse because there is no set answer to all horses. I would have to get much bigger to break Hope out of a shut down state and get her back to present in ways that would send Wyoming to flight. My relationship with Khaleesi is much stronger so I can do a bigger correction without her taking it as personally- she doesn’t have an unnatural response and we can move forward together more efficiently together.

    At some point the change I hope for comes and she releases the tension and worry she had been holding in her body with a big neck shake. On this particular day that is a great place to finish and I tell her thank you and walk away. I don’t pierce into the next level with the halter although the session before this (which was over a week before due to being out of town) we had put the halter on and done some leading work without worry.

    Each session I must take the horse I have and do what she can tolerate or I will create relationship damage. That is the thing I am coming to realize more and more as I “grow up” is that yes, we can go forward when we don’t have agreement and connection- but do we fully understand the damage that is caused? I wonder.

    This is the case with the humans around us as well. Some are more geared toward progress and goals and some are naturally geared toward relationship and connection. I see that both are strengths and weaknesses. Those goal-progress oriented can do a lot of damage as we believe the prize is worth it and everyone will see that eventually. We run over others mostly for their own good. And yet the relational-connection folks can get so stuck in the messy imperfect relationship questions that they don’t get the strength of relationship because they don’t press into the challenges with courage and intention.

    If I never ask anything of my horses it does not create any relationship. Asking them to do things they don’t understand or are not ready to do mentally destroys relationship opportunities.  

    I see great value in this work and will continue to experiment with it. 

    Wyoming has by far required me to understand new ways of thinking or one of us was eventually going to get really injured. Yet as she has kept me in the curious mindset (I am too stubborn to just give up on us) I am seeing an early harvest with this line of work with Khaleesi and Hope as well. Because these two are less of a challenge for every day “simple” tasks (like wearing a halter without anxiety) their changes have been deeper and exciting.

    As always, I appreciate the clarity working with these horses gives me on my own life. I have begun to see in others around me to deeper layers of questions below the surface behaviors and it helps me have more compassion and not get so focused on the “unwanted behavior” and realize it’s the deeper heart and mind cracks that are behind the behavior. I can’t always help each person depending on our relationship and connection, but I can have more freedom in my own responses and not go into sympathetic self-protection responses as quickly.

    More transformational still, it’s brought awareness to my own avoidance behavior. When am I uncomfortable and want to distract myself with “the cows over there” or trying to eat or drink (or pick up my phone to check emails and messages rather than engage a troubling situation or thought), when do I nip at those around me hoping to send them away so I can self-protect? Truly not everyone should have my full submission and trust and that must be built, but I’m certain I can do this more intentionally and made decisions instead of reactions if I slow down and try to understand why I am feeling so anxious, angry or afraid. I can sort out my own cracks and look for greater truths to strengthen with, and maybe stop some of the cycles around me of irresponsible relationship behaviors that leave people wounded and lashing out in self-protection (creating more wounds in others).

    Link to YouTube videos:

    Avoidance video

    Fear of pressure video

  • Am I Safe? (part 2)

    Am I Safe? (part 2)

    This is the continuation from Am I Safe? (Part 1).

    Mulling over some of the basic ideas I shared in part 1, I headed to the barn to experiment with Jim Masterson’s simple initial video of the bladder meridian to see what my herd had to say about it all. I have three diverse mares to explore:

    Ireland’s Khaleesi I’ve had 8 years now. She is the horse that began the grand experiment. I started her myself as a basically untouched 4-year old that was born into a herd running the western Virginia Mountains on a large property on St. Patrick’s day 2010. I wanted a horse that didn’t have much human interaction and all the mistakes in her development would be mine… I had little information and fewer tools, but I wanted to learn and grow. Boy have I gotten what I asked for. It’s had highs and lows, but the relationship between that mare and me is, if nothing else, authentic. I think that also makes it strong. I’ve been as honest as possible warts and all, and she’s had to put up with a massive learning curve. She has also been pretty honest with me and thankfully lets me know when it’s not going well on her end. If she held her thoughts to herself and just complied I would not learn as quickly.

    Every year I’m sure I write in one of my blog posts that we are finally connecting and what that tells me is there is always more- because every time I wrote it I believed it. I was sure we had come to a new level of connection. The truth as I look back is it was always right, and there are way more layers than I ever dreamed. So this year, including so much freedom, choice, and physical strength we have a lot more harmony of thought and movement and it’s a glimpse for me of the dream: that horse that feels like you’re one with when you think and she responds… and then there’s the day when she looks right at you and trots away down the trail you just finished riding and for what reason you cannot imagine decides to go back out and explore when you dropped the lead rope carrying the saddle to the truck hoping to get home before dark… or at the trot out for the vet at a ride you see an old friend and wave and find your attention snapped back when she nips at your elbow letting you know you’re not present… Regardless, we are friends and all the mess that goes along with it.

    Wyoming who I’ve had about 6 years now (who’s counting?) and have gone through many questions and confusion as to how she’s put together. I have had success with her but it always  falls apart at some point without me understanding why. She appears very physically healthy- in fact my friends and I tease nothing COULD kill that horse (not even a hand grenade) she is a tough wild BLM mare who is a little too adept at survival. However she appears to like me, and other people. She is the friendliest animal I have and loves to interact, she is unwilling to take much direction and is quick to take her toys and go home if you cross her threshold which seems to be amazingly a low one. She has been my greatest teacher. She makes me better than any other horse I’ve met so far.

    Redemption’s Hope is the rescue who has been quite sick in her second year in my care though she is on the long slow road to recovery now, she is quiet and came to me on the shut down side. She has a sweet nature and a soft eye but the lady has a vein of marble running through her and when she gets to a certain point you slam against the wall and nothing moves. 

    I purposefully brought her in to see if I could learn to help a shut down horse- one who had not been heard and had learned to cope by withdrawing and cooperating. This is a horse who (my best guess recreating from the pieces I’ve been given and physical evidence I’ve accumulated) probably tried hard to do what she was asked and was trained with pressure to some degree (like most horses today). She had trainers, owners, or handlers who did not realize they were causing her confusion, stress or pain mentally and physically. She likely didn’t have a real choice, the double-blind I mentioned in part 1 (comply or become more uncomfortable, where comply might have been physically painful, physically awkward, or confusing and unclear), so she began to learn to react rather than respond, to seek release instead of follow a feel or invitation, her right to think was taken away as was her right to communicate that she was confused or hurting. She shut down and seemed like a respectful obedient horse. She had all the signs of being that fabulous natured horse we all want for our kids to ride, until she really couldn’t anymore and then she’d dig in her heels and unable to continue finally say no until it looked like bucking and rearing. She was likely sold early on as a problem or injured horse, discarded to rescue, then returned twice to rescue (this I was told), picked up by a teaching stable operation, and failed out of teaching with two different instructors. Then abandoned to a field where the new owner hoped to figure out what to do with her at some point- glad to sell her to me for a song to have one less mouth to feed.

    My definition of a shut down horse.

    I began the Masterson experiment with Khaleesi because we have the most solid relationship and I should get an honest read from her. She is like my baseline case. True enough, I found his method of watching for reaction as I traced my fingers down her line seemed to work as he said it would. She didn’t have a lot going on but occasionally would have a reaction/tension spot and if I waited there she would respond with a release usually in a working of her jaw and tongue occasionally in a neck shake or deep sigh. 

    I did shorter pieces of the work with Hope and found her resistant at first in the way of being distracted and fidgety, but when she began to figure out what I was doing- and that it was helping her not expecting something of her that she couldn’t understand – she began to get still and engage in the process. 

    Hope was so sick physically in the late spring that I am certain if I didn’t get her to True North Vetrinarian Services I would have been digging a hole for her. I had routine standard vets look at her the summer and fall before as I observed issues that I knew weren’t quite right, but the standard vet answers of antibiotics some chiropractic adjustments didn’t address the healing of the root causes and the effects of them always wore off. True North does functional integrative veterinary care and Hope ended up staying with Dr. Hancock for a month (this was not our initial plan!) as they peeled back the layers to get to the roots and help her.

    She has been home three months and it’s a long road but she is improving. She came home after many sessions of osteopathic body work done slowly as her body could handle it, and many blood tests and radiographs to rule out diseases and injury, and ended up needing a dental adjustment to release pressure in her sinus cavity that was causing a constant low grade abscess. Right now her body is in much better shape except chest area is still holding deep hard tension —- gradually I see it releasing. When I began to do some of the Masterson work with her I was a bit surprised to find so much releasing around her hind end and less in the neck/shoulders. But she did seem to enjoy the process and even stopped eating grass to participate. She gave many release moments and I could see a change in her movement later that day when she trotted around the field with the herd in a more relaxed gait. She is also walking more fluidly as I do this work on her little by little. 

    I think Hope has come to trust that she is in a safe place and that I am here to help her. I hope that she has released the worst of the root damage in her physical and emotional system and is now on the road to healing and becoming truly better for it.

    It was Wyoming that had me the most intrigued.

    One morning I went into Wyoming’s stall while the herd was hanging in the barn in a relaxed way. I gave her a rub and told her what I was going to do and began at the poll like I had seen and didn’t get very far before I saw her eye blink a few times. So I made a note of the spot and moved my fingers lightly back up to see if that was coincidence, flies, or that spot would have the same reaction. I saw exactly the same eye blinking when I got to that spot. There was something going on there.

    In this method you only need observation and patience. First get good at observing very subtle reactions from the horse, then be prepared to wait with a very light touch calling attention to the place the tension is being held, if anything lighten the touch releasing your own energy to encourage the horse to let that tension go. When they release the protective tension they allow their body more into alignment which will enable the horse to move more freely.

    So I gently let a breath out, waited in the spot and whispered almost to myself: It’s ok, you can let that go whatever it is…

    This is where Khaleesi and Hope would have yawned, breathed out, shaken her neck or some sort of relaxing movement to release tension. So I waited for something to happen. But instead she stood quietly but not exactly relaxed. Her lips and eye looked tight.

    Then she moved her lips but it was not a release, it was more to make a kind of nipping in my general direction: I’m not comfortable with this, whatever it is…

    So I got softer, breathed out and whispered so my intent was clear: It’s ok, I’ll stay with you, you can let this go now.

    Again she stood still but not soft. We both waited, I tried softening my gaze and also looking other places to leave her feeling the least pressure possible. Then I saw her ears begin to pull back and she bared her teeth in my direction clearing telling me: I said I AM NOT comfortable with whatever it is you’re doing.

    There was no misunderstanding in this. She was saying NO and she was getting louder.

    Because I have been offering real choice and freedom whenever I can, I set aside my goal of getting Wyoming to release her tension and/or trauma and I stepped back and gave her a friendly rub and told her: Ok, you don’t have to do this now, but I’m telling you, you can. It’s safe here. I am here to help you. When you’re ready.

    I left her stall and went into Khaleesi’s and noticed Wyoming had turned away from toward the wall and was snaking her head in interesting angles and yawning- working her jaw in all kinds of ways. She was releasing or processing something over there way outside the normal. I don’t know that she was releasing that tension I brought her attention to. I think it’s more likely that she was processing the unexpected response I gave her when she said No thank you to my healing plan. It might have been both. I know that I did the right thing for her in the moment- I honored her prerogative to choose not to let that tension go and find more healing. I did not force or even press the issue, especially not telling myself it was for her own good. I walked away.

    It seemed abundantly clear to me she did not feel safe to do that healing work with me in that moment.

    As I left that barn that morning it was like additional lights pinging to create dots in a constellation that finally began to take recognizable shape. Wyoming has been a mystery to me- and she still is. I am far from ready to share my brilliant understanding of the neuroscience of healing of trauma. However the fact that all the good horsemanship I’ve studied to help us become more successful has only worked between us for a time and then gone backward and unraveled every time has been confounding. 

    I’ve had some truly stunning moments of riding this powerful mare — stunning in her balance and grace under saddle, stunning in her athleticism to buck and dance in protest, and less stunning as I stood next to her on trail in confusion as she laid down and tried to roll in a pile of leaves (she got so good at this I’d barely have time to jump off before she was on the ground!). I have video of her running with me around an obstacle course at complete liberty and I’ve had her threaten me violence for asking for some simple circles and figure 8s. I’ve gotten her to ride on the trailer – twice in 6 years and also had her almost kill us both trying to do loading practice last year. I’ve looked at our experience together and wondered if I am simply a terrible horsewoman or if she might be demon possessed.

    At this point, I’ve accepted that Wyoming is atypical and is not here at the moment to be a trail riding companion, but is excellent at her job if she was sent to teach me patience, humility, a higher level of observation and response, and make me laugh – at myself and her. For all the danger we have gotten into over the years with her willingness to try and then zero to sixty in a millisecond emotional threshold responses, the thing that has kept me from turning her into dogfood (in a manner of speaking) is that she apparently likes me, and she is both the most difficult horse I’ve yet come across in my limited experience and also the most friendly with me and other humans. She is not actively plotting to kill me, but she comes to a place of survival where she cannot think rationally. On the flip side, she is everyone’s favorite in the herd and she’s never met a stranger.

    So this interaction of Masterson’s technique revealed to me something in her poll-neck area she was holding tension and refused to allow me to be a part of that release process gave me another clue: she does not feel safe to be that vulnerable with me- even today.

    I have had this horse for 6 years, and I have always done my best with what I have known at the time to create a safe place that took her needs into account. I have learned a whole lot in those 6 years to know that early on I missed a lot of things I understand differently today. So it wasn’t six years of heaven for her, however I have had Khaleesi for 8 years and was the same person Wyoming had to work with. Though it’s completely clear to me that doing my best until recently was actually falling short of the horsewoman I hope to be next year, Khaleesi has been able to shift with me and I’ve seen her bloom in the atmosphere I’ve learned to cultivate in the past year and season while Wyoming is still stuck.

    The question isn’t as much is Wyoming safe as it is does she FEEL safe. 

    I walked away with a new clarity that she likes me and she is willing to try, but what I saw the last time I tried to push my way through with the trailer loading debacle is that she will try and try and try and then comes a point where she is past her safe zone and then survival kicks in and as a wild horse it becomes life or death regardless of if she likes me or not- we both might get killed because she is not responding she is now reacting. The lizard brain of fight-flight-freeze has taken over and we are way past freeze.

    It was that day after the trailer incident that I made the decision not to listen to the people who told me I was just not getting it done with her and she needed to see it would be ok if I just put enough pressure on her and forced her to comply. From now on I knew with Wyoming, we were going to have to honor her emotional threshold and I was going to have to get a whole lot better at reading the very early signs, and this mare was going to have to go at the speed of what she felt she could do without fear. Which it turns out seems to be not all that much…

    The potential was high that this horse could have deeper emotional trauma layers both from my ignorance and from her previous experiences being wild (there are plenty of trauma opportunities in the wild), rounded up, penned up, and then transferred around for the mustang makeover program, which she failed out of due to an injury, resulting in her ending up with a TIP (trainer incentive program) to get her gentled and started in TN before I adopted her and relocated her to VA. You can imagine plenty of opportunties for trama in this mare’s life.

    If she has never felt safe to release the deeper things and allow her nervous system to rest and heal, it would make sense to me she would try to assimilate and get so far and then failure would set in when she couldn’t hold it together. It really was like watching her come apart on me. In fairness she would give me clues she was not doing ok, but they are subtle and as a human I would think they were small so we could handle that. Over time I’ve come to see it’s best not to blow by the small signs because trouble would be ahead when they got bigger in exponential fashion. The worry cup was filling up… and eventually it runneth over!

    And yet this horse still looks to me as her friend, she still comes to me for help if she’s in trouble, and she knows I am here to make things better. So the question I had to ask is:

    What can I do to help her feel safe enough to heal?

    And that maybe I can wrap up in a part 3…

    Read part 3 here…