The Walk Down

Since it was a balmy 40 degrees and sunny when I finished my Sunday stalls in record time today, I was feeling pretty good about today's weapon of choice in the War on Drugs Hard to Catch Ponies: the Walk Down.  Have I mentioned that I am bound, set and determined to join the "People Who Can Catch Contender When He's in Regular Work" club?  Currently, there's only one person in it.  It's a happenin' organization.  I'd read about The Walk Down on CoTH forums a while back, but of course I needed a weekend in which to try it.

Cob Jockey is not impressed
with your shenanigans.
And you know, it was incredibly successful.  I first let him know I had treats, and gave him one, but the boss mare in the herd chased him off, and then he started feeling frisky.  So I just started walking: shoulders angled generally toward his shoulders, walking with purpose without chasing, showing no extraneous emotion, and never letting him rest.  Herd animals being herd animals, he just did walk/trot/canter/buck circles around his two pasturemates, and it took less than ten minutes before I saw his body language change and indicate he was tired of this game.  I stopped moving and held out the treat.  He stopped moving, stepped forward, took it and stood like a statue while I scratched his chin, then his neck and haltered him.

I wasn't too impressed with my ride today, but it wasn't his fault.  I was giving him lots of mixed signals and not riding very consistently.  That's to be expected after yesterday, when an after-hours work project with my two coworkers that was supposed to last from 10:30am to 5:30pm ended up going from 10:30am-3:30am.  Yes, that's 17 hours of overtime, two complete work days in one day, and a ridiculous amount of time to spend with anyone.  So, five hours of sleep and twelve stalls after that, (and so much coffee...) I wasn't expecting too much out of myself, and called it quits before we went backward instead of forward.

And that stupid left hand persists...

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