Monthly Archives: September 2012

the Deo diaries, part 3

What to do?  Friday he gave me another pretty joyful ride.  Not easy, but we got through some stuff and ended up having fun.  On Monday, the folks who are interested in him come back to see him again.  Will I let him go?  Should I let him go?  I don’t know.  I don’t know.

I think that I am trying to let myself be led here, but as usual with Deo, it feels like I am being led in two directions.  In al of this, I want to put my highest self, my highest best action first.  That means what is best for the horse – I have that responsibility.  What is good for me is important too, but I have to be his guardian, his advocate.  He can’t do that.

I hope he will show me.  I am listening.

(to be continued)

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the Deo diaries – part 2

This is what life with Deo often feels like.  Chaos and connection.  The chaos is less now than eight years ago when these photos were taken.  The connection is there, but it is different, a little dented and scarred by history and time.  Both of us are older.  I am not sure that either of us are wiser.  Amadeo is why I became a Tellington Practitioner.  So that is a gift – I had to figure out how to be with him not just in the saddle, but on the ground.

A little story about why that was so important.  About six years ago  we left Martha’s Vineyard for the mainland.  Amadeo had just arrived at a new barn – a lovely place in Millbrook, NY – a dream barn with big green pastures and excellent horse care.  I was happy, excited.  So I took him out of the barn in just a halter, to walk around the barn.  On either side of the barn doors were statues of horse heads – a nice touch, I had thought.  As we aproached the door, I could feel him go “on the muscle”.  What that means in horse-speak is that he became one big 1200-pound muscle – fully alert, head up, tail flagged – a bomb at the end of a rope.  My heart was pounding, and I spoke softly, trying to ease him back inside.  Suddenly without warning, he spun and shot out his hind leg – fully extended – and slammed his shod hoof into my leg.  Everything went black and sparkly for a moment, and I somehow staggered into the barn and melted down the side of the wall as someone took him from me.

I was in bed for about three days – could not walk at all, and had a hoofprint with a nice little egg of scar tissue in the middle for about 2 years.  I felt betrayed, angry, scared.  That’s part of what I mean about scars and dents.  Both the ones inside and the ones you can see.

Linda Tellington-Jones helped me with a lot of that.  I am a pretty confident horse handler now.  I read them better, I don’t project terror, and I have some skills.  And I am careful.

Today I am going to ride Deo again, to see if yesterday’s good ride was some kind of weird anomaly or the beginning of something new – a breakthrough of sorts.  On Monday, the nice women who are interested in him will come.  We will see, we will see.

(to be continued)

conundrum

This is Amadeo, my Andalusian, and one of the sweetest faces on the planet.  I imported him from Spain nine years ago. He was to be my Grand Prix horse, the horse that would make all my horsey dreams come true.

Instead, just a few months after he arrived Stateside, I had to have the first of my hips replaced.  And then, just as I was recovered from that surgery, my other hip failed.  Another surgery, another long recovery.  When I got back on Amadeo, I was an even more fearful tentative rider than I had been before.  I am sure that I gave him all the wrong signals – he read me perfectly and knew that when I said “go” I really meant “don’t” or “slow.”  So that got to be our agreement.  I would ask, and he would say no.

As I got stronger and bolder, it seemed that something in our communications had gotten hard-wired.  It was like a bad marriage, mostly when I was riding.  He was also a spooky guy, easily frightened or upset, so being around him on the ground could be challenging and scary as well.  On top of that, he developed terrible, life-threatening allergies and a leg injury as a result.

Fast forward a few years to 2008.  We move to the Millerton area and he moves into a barn where his allergies clear and his other issues are resolved.  All except for the tricky riding business where I say “go” and now he is saying “NO!!!”  I do not like to pick a fight with a horse.  It feels wrong.  So I would get off, feeling despairing and defeated. My trainer and I decide to try to sell him to someone that could enjoy him.  As she said, “You can’t force a match.”

I mentioned to my equine chiropractor that I wanted to make a change and one thing led to another and two lovely young ladies came to the barn to try him and they loved him. He liked them as well.  So, here’s the funny part.  Today, I decided to try riding him – one more time.  Keep in mind that for the past eight or so months, when I tried to ride, he would stand as if he had been planted and refuse to move.  As I said, I am not a fan of confrontation, so I got off, feeling mad and sad.  But today I got on and sort of channeled one of the women who had come to try him – what I saw was that she was playful but firm.  He gave me a terrific ride – we went flying around the ring – it was a wild and exuberant.  I loved it.   Go figure.

 (to be continued. . . )

 

 

 

how do you see yourself?

I feel like the social media machine has me constantly refining and defining who I am and what I do – trying to make that clear and being sure that I am saying what I mean to say.

So I have come upon a dilemma.  I think that changing the name of my blog is probably a good idea.  My worry is that “horse dancing” is inadvertently excluding a lot of potential readers.  They may not look at the blog because they think it is about horses or dances.  Which sometimes it is.  And often it is not.

So I have a thought, which is to invite you, dear reader, to tell me your ideas.  All suggestions are welcome.  If I use your blog name idea you will receive a signed 8×8 print of my new favorite Pam White photo (see below).