Cob Jockey

I need to put a coda on the Eva story.

It's interesting. I have had the opportunity to work with three very different, wonderfully bred Welsh Cobs on a loan basis over the past few years, Aeres, Encore and Eva. Two of them taught me a lot about training and riding. but Eva taught me a lot about myself.

Eva taught me that I can, but I don't want to, bounce like I used to. It had been well over fifteen years since I fell off a horse when I fell off of her in August. It was a "good" fall, but I'm still dealing with some lingering (and thankfully, slowly subsiding) pain a few months later from my arm and leg hyperextending as I whiplashed them into the ground. With the way my mental health is built upon CrossFit, and the way our co-op is built around us all being able to perform manual labor, nothing scares me more than being injured.

She taught me that I don't naturally think like a horse trainer. I missed some subtle signs that there were small holes in her foundation, which turned into bigger holes later on. Ones which I thankfully had time to fix, but still, we could have avoided the fixing.

But - she also taught me that I can learn to think like a horse trainer. Especially when I rely on my friends, like Kate, Mary and Leah.

I'm going to try not to generalize an entire gender, but Eva taught me that I don't know how to speak mare. If I had had the time to really develop a partnership with her, I think she would be dynamite, but it's a whole different ball game from geldings and stallions, one that I am not used to playing.

She taught me that I can teach a level of subtlety I never thought I was capable of. That mare, no joke, steers off your seat and weight aids basically alone, in a rope halter, thanks to the way Kate had me start her. I'm looking forward to using that knowledge on Disco.

And she validated my opinion that some horses need to be started young for reasons that have entirely to do with the mind. I do not mean started hard, but I do mean that they need to understand the concepts of "work" and "submission" when they're still impressionable. Eva is a wonderful mare with a sweet personality, but we never really found anything she enjoyed, work-wise. I can't help but wonder if her work ethic would be different if she was started younger.

Ultimately, unlike Encore and Aeres, Eva wasn't really with me to be sold, and she is now back home, perhaps to be bred next spring. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to play with her and for the perspective that she gave me.

With two horses in our barn, with Eva and with Pyro, I have been fascinated to watch the process of them learning to jump. Because, I have learned, even if they have talent for jumping, it's still a process to discover that and nurture it.

One of Eva's first tries over a vertical in September

The first time both of them went through a jump chute, they lacked confidence and didn't really want to do it. 

The first time Eva came around and saw a crossrail, she was like "NO THANK YOU I'M OUT"

Both of those sessions, although we ended them on a good note, I came away from it like well, that horse doesn't look like a jumper. They don't even look like they want to jump.

But that was my inexperience starting horses over fences talking. Because as it turns out:

They are both actually quite good at jumping. And the change in Eva's attitude from session 1 to session 3 was remarkable. 

Once again, I have Mary to thank for holding my feet to the fire on keeping things slow and predictable for them. We did the same grid the entire time, although it wasn't until the third session we put the back rail of the oxer up.

I swear if you were able to peek inside Mary's head while she's sleeping, this is what it would look like.

We did one session with Eva in early September, then another session one week later, and then the third wasn't until five weeks after that. The first session, she was just confused. The second session, there was a lot of "Okay, I understand what you want, but I'm really unsure of myself."

The third session, last night?

The moment she came into the ring and saw the grid she got excited. And I mean, EXCITED. She actually cantered on the lunge line, something I haven't been able to get her to do up to this point even if I jump up and down and scream and wave my arms.

And when we let her off the line, she made a beeline for it. We didn't even have to encourage her, and in fact, throughout the entire session, it never took more than a suggestion, a raise of my arms, a single cluck, to send her off into the chute. You could so clearly see that she understood the game and enjoyed it, even though she was still making the occasional green horse mistake.

A bit of fifth leg development as she hit the ground pole in a wonky stride and had to figure her feet out quickly before the crossrail

By the end of the third session, which will be the last time we free jump her while I have her, Mary was thrilled. She said she'll never make a hunter - she has too much fun with it and is too reactive - but that she would make an outstanding pony jumper, quick and catty and able to turn on a dime. Sadly, there's not much of a pony jumper market in the US, so that's not likely to be her calling, but it's still so cool to see what's in there.

It also did absolutely nothing to quell Mary's desperate desire to see this mare bred to a small Warmblood stallion.

I had two major takeaways from this. The first is that I learned that it does take even the naturally talented ones time to learn how to jump and to decide whether or not they enjoy it. And the second is that Eva is starting to develop a work ethic, much to my unending relief, because up until the last couple of weeks her approach to work has been that of an unemployed 25 year old man living in his mom's basement and bristling every time she asks if he's applied for any jobs today. 

 The fact that a horse can be innately talented for work and for jumping but still take time to develop and show that is something I'm going to carry with me as I work with other horses.

Lyss, formerly of Gooseback Riding and now of Chantilly Tales, commented on my blog post about Wow saddles to say that she had two barnmates that both had Wows they were looking to sell, and long story short, it ended up that one of those saddles was in my and Eva's exact specs (which are very likely to also be Disco's specs). The seller's horse had hated it and she only rode in it for a couple months before getting something else and putting it in a closet, so it was nearly new.

Not unattractive either, but those f****** blocks (we'll get to that)

Wow has three front-to-back tree shapes: curved, semi-curved and flat, with flat being the most rare, and naturally that's Eva's tree shape. Of everything on the saddle, the seat/tree is the most expensive, so it's the only thing you really want to get right. Everything else (panels, flaps, blocks, billets, headplate) can be easily/relatively cheaply swapped out later.

Because of that, I didn't ask too many questions or request hardly any photos once I learned it was a flat tree in my size. The price was fantastic, the saddle was gorgeous, and the tree was right, so I could deal with anything else being wrong. Lyss ended up facilitating the entire sale for both of us through email, which was awesome.

It wasn't until it got here and I saw the underside of it for the first time that I realized the likely reason why the seller's horse had hated it: that saddle's panels have a combination of features that my own fitter won't sell, and in fact she confiscates them anywhere she finds them, because they create a pressure point on the horse's back that she has seen lead to pain and injuries in horses many times over the years. Her words: "Do not even sit on her in those panels."

The good news? My fitter can add a stitchline to these panels to make them safe to use, AND I had just ordered new panels for Connor's Wow that are basically the same as Eva's except that they don't have tabs, which serve to lower the panel on wider horses with less withers.

Thanks to Wow being Wow, I spent 5 minutes in my living room with a screwdriver moving panels between saddles and voila, I had a saddle I could start Eva in. It fits beautifully, aside from Connor's no-tab panels sitting higher than they should on Eva.

The fit is just freaking perfect. I am in awe of that little plastic Wow saddle fitting gauge every time I see this saddle moving perfectly with Eva like it was custom made for her. Dr. M and the gauge told me what parts to look for, a blogger helped me find it, and from the moment a saddle was ever first put on her back, it fit her.

Such a lucky horse

I love it for me too. The balance is incredible and it sort of disappears underneath me. The only thing I don't love are these giant honking thigh blocks, which do move, but not enough and not in the directions that I want them to.

When I came off Eva, Kate joked that those blocks were like a pivot point for my body as I flew off, lol

Fortunately, Dr. M is both a leatherworker and a Wow enthusiast, so short term, I am just going to take the blocks off the saddle, and long term, she is going to help me fabricate a custom block. Like anything else on the saddle, the blocks are modular and are held on by two flat screws.

You can just tell my body wants these blocks out of my way. With them gone, I will be able to move the stirrup leathers forward and my leg is going to hang in a great place.

So, a big hearty THANK YOU to Lyss for helping me find this saddle. I think I am officially on the Wow train after this experience!

To recap, on Day 1, I just sat on her for a while and then got off.

On Day 2, we introduced steering. And on Day 3, we introduced trotting.

Again, this is a horse that has had no directional steering training beyond leading and lunging. And again, Kate had a well-researched and personally tested system for starting them that worked flawlessly.

She had me using a rudimentary system of aids, using the 4 seconds to light pressure pattern based on how quickly horses process new information, that set the horse up for inside leg to outside rein success later in their careers right out of the gate.

I was to never use two legs on her, not at first. From the halt, we would turn by applying the outside rein against the neck. If that didn't get a response, I would use the inside rein in a direct/opening rein fashion, and at the same time apply my inside leg in a bumping, nagging "Chihuahua barking kind of way".

Then once she was moving, I held both reins out far in front of me and wide, creating a "box" for her to stay in. As long as she stayed in that box, she didn't get any cues, but if she strayed out of it, I repeated the same system of aids.

It wasn't perfect of course, but I was able to generally get her going where I wanted her to go in the whole ring right from the get-go. The biggest problem was me - it required a whole rewiring of my I've-only-ridden-Connor-for-13-years aid system to ride a horse like this, and sometimes the wires got crossed and I'd use the wrong leg or things like that. But, this is a new skill to learn like any other, so I'm not beating myself up about not being great at it immediately.

On Day 3, Kate's last day here, we pushed it maybe a little further than Kate would have if she was at home, but I got the impression she wanted to set us up for success after she left. First of all, we saddled her. No pomp and circumstance, just put it on her in the indoor and she was fine.

I gotta write a whole blog post about this saddle, but for now, let's just say the incredible power of the blogger network strikes again. Can you BELIEVE how well this saddle fits her? It's silly. And how wonderful for Eva to be able to start right off with a saddle that doesn't hurt or annoy her in any way.

We also graduated from the rope halter to a leather sidepull that I had originally bought for baby Disco. Kate: "Um, why do you even HAVE a sidepull this small?"

On Day 3, the wheels fell off the bus in a very honest way. We were introducing trot, and suddenly Eva had a very honest green horse moment and got overwhelmed by me moving around more up there, and my lizard brain didn't even try to one rein stop her as she started very athletically bronc bucking. 

And that's the first time I ever fell off a Welsh Cob, and my first fall off anything in well over a decade. After watching her airs above the ground at liberty, I just knew it would be her and had a feeling I had it coming.

(Side note: although I sure wasn't thinking about it, the video shows I had a textbook Landsafe over the shoulder fall. Protected my head at the expense of my limbs, and my helmet didn't even take a hit. Glad that clinic paid off!)

I have video, but it was so honest of her, I won't put it out there on the Internet, because it was more my fault than hers. I surprised myself that I wasn't even remotely scared to get back on. I understood exactly what happened and why, and I know she's a lazy potato at heart, so I knew it wouldn't happen again. We ended the lesson trotting loose in the ring again no problem.

After the fall. The only casualty was my brand new Canter Culture breeches which got a hole in the knee, wah.

Since then, I have been lunging her with the saddle on and stirrups flapping to get her used to movement up there, and I have ridden her multiple times without an ounce of fear. Which still surprises me. I am much more confident in my late 30s than I was in my teens and 20s. I guess we can thank Connor for that.

So, I started the clinic with an unbroke pony, and I am now able to confidently ride her on my own every day (well, 5 days a week), putting her a month or two ahead of where I thought we'd be. Kate is a wizard.

My goals for Eva for this clinic were simply to find out what she still needed to learn before I got on her, which I assumed would be sometime in September. When Kate got there, Eva had still never been saddled, bridled, long-lined, ground driven, ponied, or any number of other things I thought she needed to know before having a rider on her back.

So if getting to this point

First moment sitting on her

on the very first day Kate was here seems premature, well, I don't blame you for thinking that. But in the end, it was the opposite of premature. It was incredible. And it was no accident.

On Friday morning, Kate spent a long time doing groundwork with her. Figuring her out. Where she holds tension and how to help her work through it. How she reacts to pressure, and not just pressure applied to her head. How to help her feel and deal with her emotions, not just shut down and bluntly accept whatever humans ask of her. Doing many of the "advanced leading" exercises with her trying to establish that communication and bi-directional respect that underpins everything. 

She also taught Eva a skill that she had tried to teach Pyro and I on a virtual lesson last winter that just did not compute with my brain. In a sentence: you stand on the mounting block and hold your arm straight out and the horse, from wherever it is in the ring, even eventually at liberty, sidles up to you, puts itself in the right place for mounting, and stands there. 

Horse starts here (or wherever)

Horse ends here

This exercise does a few things. Obviously, it's great for mounting, but it also gives the horse a lot of control. You cannot force a horse into this exercise, there's no physical way. You can only ask, in kind of a vague way that almost doesn't have anything to do with the motion the horse has to perform. 

You just keep asking, slowly, patiently, and the horse has to figure it out, with the timing of your release telling them when they've made even a baby step toward the right answer at first, and a re-start of the exercise telling them "good job, but not quite."

For clarity, we started this exercise with me/Kate on the gate for more height and control, and then moved to the mounting block placed against the wall when Eva was solid with it.

It also teaches them self-control. They learn that their only job when in position at the mounting block (or gate) is to stand. No matter what happens to them. With less tolerance over time as they get good at it, if they swing their head around, or dance around, we re-start the exercise.

Eva soaked it up like a sponge, and was quickly a pro at the mounting block game. I mean, QUICKLY. She is so engaged with people, and has a quick mind for figuring out each new game. 

At the end of that session, Kate said "You're definitely going to get on her. Want to get on her later this afternoon?"

Record scratch, excuse me what?

Now here is where I say, that my actual reaction was "Sure!". Because as I have told Kate, many times in all of the lessons she's given me since 2016, I have thought "That sounds like total bullshit." But every time, whatever she is teaching me WORKS. So now, my reaction to anything she says is "That sounds like total bullshit, let's do it!" 

So, weenie adult amateur starting a green horse that has never even been saddled before bareback and in a rope halter after calling the horse to her on the fence Disney-princess style? Total bullshit, let's do it!

By this point, Eva had really internalized the idea that no matter what happened at the mounting block, it was her job to stand still. From the gate position, Kate had me start by rubbing her all over her back with my foot. Then walk away from it to release that pressure, and then we restarted the mounting block exercise. 

This time I got on. My instructions from Kate were "Don't sit up. Align your spines as quickly as possible while on your belly and then slide off the other side immediately."

That went perfectly. We repeated it a couple of times, and then the next time, I sat up. And just sat there. And breathed. And everything was fine.

To be completely fair, this was also the reaction the first time I sat on the only other Castleberry Cob I've started, Shae, so it has quite a bit to do with the generous nature of this breed also. But that was, let's call it a more traditional way of starting (since I was in college taking a class from an established colt starter)

At this point, my mind was thoroughly blown. And I had only just sat up there! But it was completely stress-free for both of us. It felt like I had not forced Eva into this, that Kate and I had created a communication framework between us, that Eva understood her role, and that she was not over-faced, even though on paper, it looked like we went from A to F on the alphabet and skipped a bunch of steps.

"Isn't it great? I start all my horses like this now," said Kate, beaming, as I sat up there trying to remember to breathe and still incredulous that I was sitting bareback on an unbroke horse.

 The other thing we did with Eva last week was turn her into a sport horse. As opposed to a reiner.

Before

Lisa intentionally left this mane on her because she knew Mary and I would turn it into a good before/after photo, as we did with Aeres and Encore before Eva. And because Mary positively itches if a horse isn't "a bath away from the show ring." So the very first day she met Eva...

It needed to be cut before it could be pulled, but we didn't try pulling. She's sensitive, for all the good parts of that and all the bad parts of that, and sounds in particular seem to be a lot for her. Including the sound of the scissors. Pulling seemed like it would be asking a lot.

(Although as I write this post, I remember that her full sibling Encore also hated the sound of the scissors but fell asleep for pulling so...maybe I'll give that a shot soon.)

This was also the first time I had crosstied her after learning from Leah that she had been crosstied by her friends before, and she stood reasonably still for 20-30 minutes during all this, so I have no complaints.

In the end, not only did she end up looking a lot better, she also has to feel better having all that hair off her neck in the hot Indiana summer.

Just before I left on a business trip, Mary came down to see Eva for the first time. She was already obsessed with her after meeting her on previous visits to Lisa's, but after handling her?

This is Mary absolutely melting when Eva struck a pose to whinny at someone getting off a trailer, and saying "She is SO. BEAUTIFUL!"

That day, we ended up starting with lunging. She had never so much as walked over a ground pole before, but it was a total non-issue.

She clearly enjoyed it, because a few minutes later I turned Connor and Eva loose in the indoor so Mary could see her canter, and unfortunately I don't have a video of this, but she voluntarily changed course in order to jump the pole again.

Connor is, well. Let's just say this free lunging session convinced me that I don't think we're going back to full herd turnout as long as Eva is here.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY, I'M A MAN!"

He was possessively herding her and biting her neck and just acting very studdish. I have seen him take possession of a mare once before in mixed turnout and run another gelding nearly off his feet, so that's on my mind too. Eva's clearly helped him find some testosterone reserves he didn't know he had, which is funny, because he was never like this with Aeres, nor with Missy, who he has successfully lived in a mixed herd with for over a year.

But back to Eva.

Watching her move, there is so much to like about this horse. Her trot, for one. It's unmistakably a Welsh Cob trot, but there's suspension, there's more shoulder freedom than most Cobs (although I always want more in this breed), and most importantly, even when her head is straight up in the air, she never uses her underneck as a security blanket the way Connor does, which should make her a lot easier to train.

But of all things, the gallop caught my eye that day.

I have never in my life looked at a Welsh Cob galloping and thought "Wow, I love that gallop," in a sport way until Eva. Welsh Cobs often look like a cartoon pony of both long hair and limbs flying inefficiently in every direction at the gallop, and the gallop doesn't undulate through the horse's entire body. It's like their legs are galloping but their bodies are just floating above the legs, at least to my eye. You can kind of see what I mean in the GIF of Connor above.

He is...not the most graceful galloper. And he didn't need to be 💗

Now, don't think I'm knocking them over this: they were not bred to gallop, they were bred to trot as big as a horse in order to pull heavy wagons quickly while eating as little as a pony, and they do that well. A sporty eventing-style gallop is not something they were ever supposed to do well. So that made it all the more incredible to see the way Eva gallops.

She is beauty, she is grace. No really, she's actually balanced.

It's efficient, it's powerful, it's graceful, it's effortless. It's ground-covering (for a 14hh pony), it's purposeful. It's something I want to ride. And combined with just having seen her boldly change direction in order to take a "jump" a few minutes earlier after we had just introduced her to that game that day, it has the wheels turning far too early in my head. IF she wants to event, she has the pieces to go pretty far. Again, for a 14hh pony.

But best of all? After all that chaos, she came to me. Politely and respectfully. "Hey person, I'm done with this, can I come love you?"

Swoon 💗