Cob Jockey

I'm turning out after breakfast. Disco opens his mouth to grab the halter when I go to put it over his nose. It's such a minor thing, I could have easily gotten it on anyway and ignored his open mouth in favor of getting turnout over more quickly, but I won't. I drop the halter and walk into his shoulder, pushing him around his stall without touching him. I stop. He stops second. He drops his head and stands still. 

We try again, and this time his mouth stays closed. We've been working on this in our (virtual) Kate lessons, and he understands that he got moved because opening his mouth was the wrong answer. And his reward for standing politely for haltering is that I allow him to stand still, and that he gets to go outside.

We have so many conversations like this, and they do feel like conversations. He gives me a right answer and I reward him - by letting him stand still with my body language clearly saying "I am not asking you for anything in this moment", with wither scratches, or by ending the session. He gives me a wrong answer, and I make him move his feet - ideally in the way he finds most challenging, which right now is sideways, but sometimes it's backwards.

"Before Kate" me would have not known how to reward or discipline him in the same ways a herdmate would. How to be so aware of my body language that I understand even what the lean of my body in one direction or another means to him. Old me wouldn't have known how to reward without treats, or to discipline in a way the horse understood and could process and learn from.

But Kate has completely transformed the way I handle horses, and the horses respond. Pyro and Disco especially. I swear it's because they feel understood, and because the human's "language" makes sense to them.

I watch, now, and I see the way Connor stands his ground when Disco is being annoying, and it's Disco that eventually walks off to a different part of the pasture. "The horse that moves his feet loses," as Kate says. 

Connor and I are speaking the same language to him, and while Disco still tries stuff with us both, it feels almost half-hearted. The answers to his shenanigans, mild as they are, have been so consistent from both of us (all of us, really), that he doesn't try as hard as he did when he first got here only three weeks ago. 

It's fascinating, it's fun, and it's paving the way for Disco to be a Very Good Boy for everyone that handles him, and nothing means more to me than that right now.

Now that Disco is home, we are figuring out winter turnouts. Last winter, we kept our 3 horses drylotted all winter because we seeded the pastures in October (which worked out beautifully). This winter, we have 6 horses, and so we had to choose which of the paddocks and pastures we wanted to sacrifice and which we wanted to grow grass in and rest.

It's no easy choice. We have 3 bigger pastures that grow a lot of grass well, two paddocks that don't grow grass well despite getting the same treatment as the others, one drylot and one drylot around the barn. We also have a stallion to keep separated, so he and Connor are unavoidably in a pasture I would love to rest over the winter but can't (long term pipe dream: build a drylot in the stallion paradise pasture), and we only have shelters in two pastures and the barn drylot.

In the end, we decided to sacrifice the two paddocks, which can be opened up to the drylots and to each other to make a pretty decent sized area.

So, a couple weeks ago we opened up all the gates and chucked the non-Connor/Disco herd of four out there. They were turned out together from April until the end of August when we had to split them up due to drought, so I didn't think things would be THAT wild.

F***** horses.

Lesson learned. Even previously integrated herds need to be re-integrated in wide open spaces. Which, after this incident, we promptly put the same four horses together in the big field and they've been just fine for weeks after, go figure.

Fortunately, there wasn't so much as a scratch on any of the horses involved, and even better, most of the fencing materials were able to be re-used. The best boarders and significant others ever dutifully came out the following Saturday to put it back together, which required just a knife, a Sawzall and about 45 minutes of work.

I complain a bit about this white fence, but on the whole, it has been great to us. Generally it breaks before the horses do, it's easy to work on, and it requires no maintenance at all unless you feel like pressure washing several miles of fence (I mostly don't, although I'm often tempted).

I'm feeling extra grateful and thankful this Thanksgiving. Both in that I have more to be grateful for than usual, and in that I'm (I know, I know, common theme) feeling feelings like gratitude in ways I never have before.

I am, first and foremost, grateful for my SO. I never knew love could be like this, and never knew how powerful it is to have a partner like this. Without him, I would not have the confidence to do so many things, from the little things to the biggest things.

My SO helping my longtime career mentor unload the tiller I borrowed to redo the indoor arena footing this month, with the help of my former trainer

And on similar lines, I am grateful to have three of the best boarders on the planet. Our co-op setup is not without its challenges, but none of them are because of these wonderful people.

Boarder Leah, her husband and my SO fixing a fence the horses went through...(not Disco and Connor!)

I'm as grateful to have Disco home as I'm grateful that he was gone with Maude for a year and a half.

I'm grateful to be able to MOVE. I spent the first three months of 2024 in pain after I got cocky and made bad choices in the gym, which is very unusual for the person whose gym motto is "Don't do stupid shit". It was my first injury ever, and it really drove home the fact that being able to move is key to who I am, to my ability to contribute to the co-op, and to my mental health. Certainly not something I will take for granted as I age.

Dropping in at a random CrossFit gym in Texas with my SO earlier this month, where they had the rare appropriate-height pull-up bars for my height. Thankfully, I am ending 2024 just having set a lifetime PR back squat, so no lasting impact from that injury.

I am grateful for this little house and for the opportunity to buy this farm. Every time I walk the quarter mile across the field to the barn, I'm happy. Even in the weather.

Best commute ever

I'm grateful for my momma, for getting me into all of this in the first place and for being my rock through all of these life changes.

I am grateful for the best barn dogs, who are nearly perfect off-leash these days, and are so happy living here.

I'm grateful for Lisa, as a friend, as my "other mother", and as someone who has given me the most amazing opportunities with horses over the last decade, and of course, in particular this last year, with Encore, Eva and Disco.

I'm grateful for Kate, who, despite living thousands of miles away from me, continues to be such an amazing friend, mentor and trainer. She will tell me I'm wrong about this, but I'm not sure I could do Disco without her, and she continues to teach me the most surprising things about the animals I have loved my entire life.

I'm grateful for the relationship I have with my SO's kids, and in particular his daughter, who has fallen deeply in love with Connor, and he with her.

Most of all, I am grateful for this life I have now. I have always said that I want to build a life that I don't feel the need to escape from, a life in which I take vacations because there are interesting places to visit, not because I need to get away. I thought I had that before, but I didn't realize all the little escapes I had built into my life back then. This, now - this all feels so right.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

We are settling into a routine here.

Best baby stallion chilling in his "I'm about to have a Kate lesson, aren't I" rope halter. And the crossties that we shortened to the point that it's no longer fun for him to try to eat them. #winning

Not quite two weeks into his return, we have hit a lot of milestones. All of the co-op members can handle him safely. He walks like a good boy down the driveway to and from his turn out, both two-at-a-time with Connor and alone. He continues to be turned out with Connor no problem, although Connor would prefer he play a little less rough sometimes. And he finds being curried to be much more of a turn on so far than our one and only mare (yay, boys).

We have also had two Kate groundwork lessons so far, which have both felt like inoculations against thinking I can't raise a three year old stallion to be a good citizen. It helps so much to have her in my ear telling me to stick with my ask when he pushes my buttons and to tell me my timing was/wasn't quite right and to give me a structured, repeatable framework for my asks, my rewards, and all of the skills I need him to have.

I'm being very slow, methodical and careful in everything with him because I want to set both him and the co-op up for success, but truly, he has been such a good boy so far. There are certainly moments when I question my sanity, but there are many others when I find myself impressed and surprised that he's standing there quietly or learning something new easily or keeping his freaking mouth shut when I'm trying to halter him (a work in progress, thank you Kate!).

Baby stallion vertical mirror covers designed and built by my wonderful SO

Trying to keep it all in perspective, this baby horse life. I know the good moments will get closer and closer all the time until one day they're 15 and I won't remember these baby days at all.

On Tuesday night, I ground drove Disco, which marked the first time I really worked him since he's been here.

I couldn't replicate everything about Maude's setup, not even close, but I did my best to telegraph "driving" to him by putting him in his new driving bridle, which I also hoped would help keep his focus as we walked him past the mirrors for the first time.

Maude told me months ago that she thought he had the best work ethic of any horse she had ever worked with, and as I walked him out into the arena, I could already feel what she meant. He's not a particularly busy horse for a three year old, but a remarkable level of stillness and focus came over him as I put the lines through the surcingle.

When we stepped off - a little clumsily since I don't yet have a driving whip - I felt his whole world click into place through the lines. His walk was purposeful and powerful, almost too fast for me at first until I realized that he was putting enough power into it to pull the cart he was used to having behind him! 

He steered easily, even though Maude (very politely and sweetly) told me later I did it wrong by only using rein, that he was used to a whip for bending cues in addition to the rein for steering. His whoa was a WHOA, do not pass go, do not collect $200, do not move one single foot. Driving people don't mess around with that.

His level of focus, though, was the most amazing part. That was the first time he had been walked around that arena in almost two years, and even when we passed the mirrors, when he would look at the horse in the mirrors, I would say, "Hey, come back over here" using the rein, and he would say "Oh okay sorry, I forgot I was working" and go right back to being all business.

I just cannot believe that this is the same horse who was so indignant about being asked to do anything at all as a baby. Yes, of course good training and consistency and maturity play a huge part in it, but he was clearly so happy to go to work and do what his person told him to. It makes me so excited for the future. As Maude said, "You can do anything with a horse like this!"