Another One Bites the Dust

Word to the wise: When you have a horse who is prone to buck, who has been severely abused, who often FREAKS OUT for no good reason, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT lean all the way back in the saddle and SLAP her on the butt to kill a fly.

Just don't do it.

Yes, Naysa bucked me off today. It's the second time I have been "separated" from her during a ride. She has attempted to buck me off on other occasions, without success, but today she caught me off guard and off balance, (i.e. reclining on her backside with the reins at the buckle actually smacking her on the butt.)

There is no question. I am an idiot.

The first buck sent me flying forward, the second buck sent me over her head in a somersault. I landed flat on my back.

Naysa remained where she was, looking at me like, "WHAT?"

Once I regained my composure (and my breath), I put my foot in the stirrup to get back in the saddle, but the girth wasn't tight enough so the saddle slipped a bit, sending Naysa into another bucking frenzy. I tightened the girth, walked her forward a bit, then put my foot in the stirrup again. This time she let me mount without problem, and we rode off like nothing had happened.

In the meantime, Carla's horse Sandy was attempting to get Carla off her back by rearing and bucking, and Leslie's horse Barney was shaking his horse head, looking back at his mom as if to say, "What's their problem?"

Naysa's first response to new stimuli is to buck. The first time I pressed my heals into her sides (gently, mind you) to ask her to go forward, she bucked. The first time I rode her bareback, she bucked, The first time she had a bit in her mouth when I was on her back, she bucked. The first time she had a rider lean back and smack her on the butt, she bucked. And the first time she felt the saddle slip to the side, she bucked.

It's simply her response to new things. That's who she is. Something different happens, and suddenly she's no longer herself. She is no longer my Naysa. She is that malnourished, tortured, beaten, bloody horse with a gaping hole in her face whose spirit refuses to let her die.

Once she has experienced something, it no longer triggers her bucking response. I can press her side to make her go. I can ride her bareback and with a bit. And I'm sure from now on I can swat flies off her backside. She's just scared of new things. Aren't we all?

Actually, I don't mind when she bucks. I just hate hitting the ground.

Score!

The Blue Angel horse show this past weekend was simply fantastic. All of the Forever Sky riders did exceptionally well, and we are so proud of them. In the midst of all that pride, as well as the laughing, tacking, joking, riding, and running around with Forever Sky T-shirts like a big green cult, there was always one focus.

"What was your score?" you would hear again and again, as each rider came back, carrying a ribbon and her dressage test in hand.

Scores.

We've dealt with them all our lives. Numbers that can have a lasting impact on us. Numbers that might not mean a thing, and numbers that mean everything.

My two sons--twins, age six--are constantly in a race. They each want to get their clothes on first, brush their teeth first, enter or exit first.... They are sometimes so violent about it that I start to wonder if that's why the last couple of weeks of my pregnancy were so difficult. Were they fighting to see who would be born first too?

I find myself literally pulling my hair to keep from screaming at them, but today as I watched them argue about who should have their cereal poured first, I laughed. I know that their desire to "win" is a natural part of their makeup, as frustrating as it is for me. But what they don't realize yet is that winning is complicated. Sometimes we actually lose when we win, and sometimes we win when we lose.

I've always believed that we learn more by losing than by winning. When you tote a blue ribbon around--or an A on a paper or test--you feel like you're on top of the world. You're the best. You're great. You WON. And when you get that A or blue ribbon, you are less likely to pay attention to any criticism that comes with it, criticism that would make whatever you are doing better.

I think that's why I really like the way dressage tests are scored. Leslie got her first 60 this weekend, and she was bouncing around like a rabbit on amphetamines. Okay, maybe she wasn't THAT hyped up, but she was pretty darn happy.

(Side comment: Congratulations, Leslie!! You and Barney were awesome!)

Back in "the day" (why do people say that, btw?), if I had made a 60 on a test, I would have been horrified. Even 90s were out of the question at my house. If I got a 97, my mom would ask, "What happened to the other 3 points?" Some people have thought those words were a bit harsh, but they weren't. My mom taught me to believe I could always do better. Of course she was happy with my 97, that was a given, but she kept me working to achieve my very best, and I thank her for it every day. Forever Sky probably wouldn't exist had she never asked about those missing points.

What is interesting about the scores on dressage tests is that NOBODY expects to get a 100 on their test. Even the idea of an 80 or 90 is laughable. "In dressage," says Alexis, "if you are consistently scoring in the upper 60s and lower 70s, it's time for you to move on to the next level."

I like that.

No person can ever be perfect. No horse can ever be perfect. Certainly no horse and rider combination can be perfect. And so dressage teaches us to look for the commentary on the test, to look for how we can do better instead of whether or not we got the highest score, or the blue ribbon.

Yes, it's true, some of my Forever Sky family walked away with blue ribbons this weekend, but you know what they were focused on--the commentary on the test, not the ribbon. They were interested in how they could improve their riding.

I want to improve my riding, of course. But I am most interested in how I can improve Forever Sky Ranch. When I am at the ranch, I see all those missing points. And I plan to work for those points hard.

So if you're out at Forever Sky for a visit, you might suddenly hear someone shout "SCORE!" No need for concern. That will be me, hands in the air, happy to have accomplished one more thing to make the ranch a better place for my FSR family and their horses.

Walking on Sunshine--or Maybe Flying Through Clouds

Have you ever met someone so happy and upbeat and energetic that just being around them makes you feel like the sun is shining, even if there are dark clouds in the sky?

I have. Her name is Aubrey.

Even though Aubrey doesn't have her own horse, there is no doubt that she is an important part of the Forever Sky Family. When she walks into the barn, it really is like someone turned on the lights--or flipped the radio station to some kind of awesome dance music.

Don't stop, make it rock, DJ blow my speakers up. Tonight, I'mma fight, till I see the sunlight...

(Yes, Aubrey, I know Annie doesn't like the Tik Tok song.)

We can actually thank Google for bringing Aubrey into our life at Forever Sky. She was looking for a good trainer in the area. So she googled (I still can't belive that's a verb now) and that's how she found Alexis. "After our first lesson," says Aubrey, "I knew I'd be coming back. I didn't even go ride with anyone else. I called up and canceled the other intro lessons I had scheduled."

Yes, it's true. Alexis really is THAT good.

Aubrey is from Enumclaw, Washington, a city built on a plateau formed by volcanic mudflow. "It sits right at the base of Mt. Rainier, an active volcano," says Aubrey, "which is pretty cool, well, y'know, till it explodes!" The name Enumclaw is derived from a local Native American word meaning "strong wind" or "thundering noise." Aubrey definately lives up to her city's name. She may not make a lot of noise (okay, well, sometimes) but she has such a powerful personality that she enters the barn like a strong wind. Or maybe like Twilight's Alice...she DOES come from Washington after all, with all that rain and greenery.

You can find Aubrey at the barn with Sky or Cymba or Bingo or Tucker...she was even going to groom Naysa the other day, but I took off on a trail ride about the time she pulled up to the barn. She loves being around the horses. She loves riding. "It's challenging, and it's frustrating, and it's relaxing, and it's a thrill all at the same time," says Aubrey. "It doesn't matter what day I've had, how I'm feeling, or how other people are feeling about me, riding makes me focus in the moment. And I like working with the horse, whether we're in the arena, out on the trail, or it's just a grooming session. I take care of and trust them, and they take care of and trust me. It also fulfills the adrenaline junkie in me, as if flight school doesn't take care of that!"

Yes, she said "flight school." Aubrey is in the Navy, training to be a pilot. Okay, you can close your mouth now. It's true. She's a gorgeous, funny, magnetic horsewoman who also flys planes.

Settle down guys. She's taken.

Aubrey is almost finished with her primary training, at which point she will go on to specialize in a certain type of aircraft. "Hopefully I'll be staying in Milton and learning to fly helicopters," says Aubrey. "Which is good, because it means I can stay at Forever Sky."

And we DO want her to stay.

She's family.

Splish, Splash

If there ever were a time to come off a horse,today would have been the day for Alexis. She didn't, which was amazing in itself. But she did get in a little over her head...

so to speak.


After she finished giving lessons, Alexis worked her horse Annie in the arena. Annie can be a pill sometimes, and she likes to get all hot-headed and try to buck and fuss(not unlike me when someone suggests I wear a dress.) But Alexis hangs with her and gets her to turn that attitude into a beautiful, well-collected stride. (Alexis really is amazing with those horses.) They worked hard together, and they had a FANTASTIC ride. So after they were finished working, Alexis decided to hack around the ranch so they could both cool down.

While she and Annie meandered around the property, Alexis began to think about the summer horse camp that she has been planning.

***We interrupt this blog to insert a plug for the FSR horse camp***

June 7th-11th, ages 6-16, 8:00am to 4:00pm, $250 for the week

***Now back to regularly scheduled blogging***

Alexis used to attend horse camps as a kid, and one of the best things she remembers is going swimming on horseback.

"It is just such a cool feeling," says Alexis. "when the horse takes off and you know that you are both suspended in the water. There is no other feeling on a horse like that."

We have a small pond on the ranch, which Alexis explored a little bit with Tucker when they first moved to Forever Sky, but "it was cold," says Alexis, "and we only went in about belly deep."

Today Alexis decided she wanted to see exactly how deep the pond was. She walked Annie to the edge of the water, but Annie was having no part of going into that pond--that is, at least, not at first. She and Alexis danced along the edge for a while, until Annie finally leaned down in a cautious, guarded manner, and sniffed the water.

What happened next really should have been caught on camera (Where ARE those elusive cameramen when you need them?!) Annie, who had been more than hesitant about getting anywhere near the water, suddenly took a giant LEAP right into the pond.

What Annie didn't know--what ALEXIS didn't know--was that about 3 feet from the edge, the water gets deep. They went in ALL THE WAY. As Annie was clamoring to get a foot on something solid, she flung her head up and SMACKED Alexis right in the face.

I can feel her pain. I was there not long ago, bent over at the waist, holding my nose after Naysa had flung her head up and nailed me hard. The difference is that while I was stumbling about in the barn, seeing stars, wondering if my nose was broken, Alexis was still on horseback, suspended in the water, reaching her hand up to her face to make sure she still had all her teeth. She had no doubt her nose was broken.

Amazingly, the pair emerged from the water intact. Alexis was still in the saddle, minus the stirrups, yet holding onto the reins. They were both soaking wet and not a little stunned.

Alexis was still holding her nose when they began to walk back to the barn, but she maintained her sense of humor.

"I guess that's what I get for making the poor girl jump into water on the cross country course!

Thankfully, Alexis did not come away with a broken nose, though she did feel a bit sick.

"Are you sure you don't need to go to the ER," I asked her.

"I'm fine," said Alexis.

And you know what? She IS fine. She's a fine horsewoman, a fine lady, and a fine friend with one fine sense of humor. And even though she didn't have to show it today, I bet she's also one fine swimmer.

Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail...

Alexis is an Eventer. For those of you who don't understand what that means, picture the difference between a boxer and an ultimate fighter. Your normal, well-trained dressage rider or show jumper is the boxer. The eventers, of course, are the ultimate fighters.

Eventers must not only master the art of dressage and show-jumping, but also the rigors of cross country. Cross country is what separates the men from the boys--or in this case, the women from the girls. The obstacles in cross country range from solid, natural objects like stone walls and fallen trees to things like ponds, streams, ditches, sudden drops, and men with machine guns. When the rain starts pouring down at a show, it's the eventers you'll see still tacking up, getting ready to ride. They aren't deterred by a little bit of rain, nor do they care about hurricane winds, pelting hail, sleet, snow or natural disasters.

You have to be careful about joining Eventers on what they consider a relaxing Sunday-afternoon horseback ride, especially if it has just been raining. You'll find yourself trying to convince your horse that sludging through thick, knee deep mud and making your own trails through dark forests are actually good things. (Very hard to do when you're on an Arabian.)

Eventers are tough, and falling off is simply part of the game for them. That's why if you're listening to the speaker at the cross-country section of an eventing weekend, you might hear something like

"Rider 29 has been separated from his horse at obstacle 12."

I always picture the horse continuing on with the course while the rider is running after him, trying to catch up.

Alexis never wanted to be that rider, so she learned early on never to let go of the reins. She would rather be dragged than have it announced that she has "been separated" from her horse.

The last time Alexis was "separated" was nearly two years ago during a simple schooling show. She was riding Tucker from the barn to the arena with a relaxed rein, just chilling out, when some guy crinkled up a potato chip bag and Tucker thought the world was coming to an end. Tucker bolted to the safety of the barn, leaving Alexis behind. The other horses could hear him call out "Every horse for himself!"

Yesterday, Alexis found herself "separated" once again. She has been working with Sandy, a 4-yr old Appaloosa rescue horse who she recently started under saddle. Sandy has been doing great at the walk and trot, so Alexis decided it was time to try out her canter under saddle.

"It was a beautiful canter," said Alexis. "But then I realized the saddle was too loose and was slipping . I tried to make an emergency dismount, but my foot got caught in the stirrup. It was about that time that Sandy got the idea to jump out of the dressage arena."

Anyone watching that day would have seen Alexis hopping along beside Sandy, doing her best to keep up with that horse's beautiful canter. Peter Cottontail would have been proud. Hippity, Hoppity, Easter's on its way!

Alexis did her best to hold on to those reins, but after a few laps of hopping along, Alexis decided that perhaps being "separated" was exactly what she wanted after all.

And so the count rolls back to zero. We should probably post a sign in the barn. "It has now been 1 day(s) since Alexis has been separated from her horse."

Or maybe not. I think we might get tired of counting.

Happy Easter Everyone!