“If I Weren’t Married to You…”

 

Restar Mountain Shelley III and my husband upon Shelley’s arrival at Willowtrail Farm

My husband started a conversation this morning with the words, “If I weren’t married to you…”  Needless to say, he had my attention, and I was quite interested to hear how he would finish the sentence.  “If I weren’t married to you,” he said, “I’d marry Shelley.”  Shelley is Restar Mountain Shelley III, my eight-year-old Fell Pony mare, and I must say I understand his sentiment.  Especially when in foal, Shelley wants to interact whenever she sees us, accepts treats politely, stands still to be scratched in her favorite places, and is so calm, confident, and serene that she makes me envious.

And then there are times like this morning.  I only wanted to see the state of her udder, as I’m in the beginning phases of her foal watch.  I had just given her a bucket of vitamins.  When I bent over, she lifted her hind leg in threat despite me being a full two feet away.  When Shelley first arrived here, she quickly gained a reputation as a princess, wanting her own way and using her size and strength to get it, including firmly planting her foot on Don’s as she came off the trailer for the first time.

Over the years, of course, we’ve come to an understanding about foot placement, among other things, and Shelley has worked her way into our hearts.  I’ve learned, for instance, that I need to wait until she’s finished her bucket before I ask for much of anything.  I’ve watched her kick her foals off when there’s a bucket involved, and this morning I was able to get a good look at her udder without any reaction at all as soon as her bucket was empty.

Undoubtedly part of our attraction to Shelley is her foals, who like their dam seem especially interested in the humans in their world.  Getting to interact daily with Willowtrail Black Robin, now four, is always entertaining in the best sense of the word, and I know that Willowtrail Spring Maiden has captivated her owner.  The stories he tells never fail to brighten my day.

Shelley is about to become a grandmother for the first time.  I was a little aghast when I realized this the other day.  And since my husband is a grandfather, it gives those two yet another thing in common.  Perhaps I do need to be jealous of Shelley.  Except of course there is that fact that my husband and I are married…!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

 

A Treat Game for a Mouthy Boy

Success! Torrin finds a ‘hidden’ treat

Of the ten ponies currently in my herd, only three get hand-fed treats.  These ponies are polite about it; the others are too mouthy, a behavior I don’t want to encourage.  The mouthiest of my ponies is my Norwegian Fjord Horse gelding Torrin.  This winter I did invent a treat game for him.  Other people with mouthy horses have asked me about it.

Both Torrin’s paddock-mates got treats this winter, and they were also commanding lots of my attention (one for health reasons, the other for training.)  Torrin seemed to feel left out, mostly in the attention department.  To do something with him that didn’t take much time or effort, I started playing hide and seek with a treat.  I would place a treat on the ground then lead him to the general area at liberty then point to the treat, teaching him to follow my gaze and intent.  It was a fun short game we could play together when I didn’t have time for much else.  And since I wasn’t feeding the treat out of my hand, it didn’t encourage mouthiness around me.

Several years ago, a buyer of one of my ponies told me she had taught her new pony to take an apple out of her coat pocket.  I was dismayed.  While it’s a cute trick, if not done properly, it could lead to really bad behavior.  My friend Doc Hammill accurately summarizes the challenges of such activities:  “All great trainers use food rewards properly in their training processes.  But it’s so easy to use food rewards in ways that encourages the wrong behavior.  Unless people are very conscious and diligent and educated about the use of food as a reward, they can get into terrible trouble and produce dangerous horses or horse behavior that is completely unacceptable.  It’s far better to never use food as a reward than to use it improperly.” (1)

Being conscious and diligent about using food rewards is not something that comes naturally to most of us.  I made the mistake once of selling a pony with whom I used hand-fed treats as rewards.  I was able to manage the behavior of the pony, but the new owner wasn’t.  I should have stopped that form of reward long before I sold that pony, but at the time I didn’t realize how differently people manage their horses when it comes to food.

I recently realized a reason why I invented the treat game with Torrin.  It’s because I’ve never figured out where he likes to be scratched.  As Doc Hammill says, “If you don’t know your horse’s sweet spots, your horse’s favorite spots to be groomed and itched, then you’re missing a big rewarding opportunity.”  (2)  In fact, as I look at the ponies that I have fed treats to over the years, for most of them I hadn’t figured out their favorite places to be scratched.  I have found it’s always better to reward with a scratch in a favorite place than any other way.  When I’m with my ponies, I always have my fingers, so I always have a way to reward good behavior.

Torrin’s behavior changed after I started this treat game, and it wasn’t entirely positive, so I wouldn’t recommend trying this unless you’re prepared to manage and correct any adverse consequences.  Torrin definitely perks up and comes to me when he thinks we’re going to play the find-the-treat game.  But he’s pretty good about coming to me anyway, and he’s always good about following me at liberty when I ask.  Now that we’re working together again regularly, I don’t use this game at all.  So while this treat game was a good way to engage with him when I didn’t have time for anything else, I won’t use it again so that I don’t encourage inappropriate behavior.  And I’ve recently found a spot he does like to be scratched, so I’ll use that as a reward when I need to.  It’s a much better tool than treats for a mouthy boy.

1)      Hammill, Doc.  Gentle Training 2:  Daily Opportunities, DVD, www.dochammill.com, 2011.
2)      Hammill DVD.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

Frank Yardley, Fells, and Coloured Cobs

Two items have found their way to my desk recently connected by a single name:  Frank Yardley.  The first item is the Spring 2002 Fell Pony Society newsletter.  In it, Frank shares how he started with Fells and what he used them for.  He began in the 1950s; two ponies became available after the company he worked for changed to the motor variety of horsepower.  He used them every day on local farms, carting muck and chain harrowing for hire.  He also mowed with them early in the morning, sometimes loaning them out during the day, then mowing again at night.  In addition, he hauled sawdust for sale with them.  Eventually he sold them when his farmer-clients went to tractor power.

The second item on my desk is a stack of articles from Heavy Horse World about coloured cobs.  In photographs from the 1970s and 1980s, Frank Yardley is shown with horses that he bred.  “I proved to myself over the years that a Clydesdale mare with a nice cob bred a good cob with nice bone, good action and nice straight silky hair.”  Frank says, about a pair he’s shown working in the 1980s, “There are not many coloured cobs working in pairs on the land.  These were both mares, six and eight-years-old, and worked very well together, doing any job they were put to.” (1)  Frank bred them both and owned the sire and dam.  In the 1970s, Frank had a well regarded stallion named Prince:  “The stallion was 15.3hh, nice bone, plenty of feather, very kind and good tempered, and was a half-bred Clydesdale.” (2)

Back in March, I wrote a blog post called “Judging Feathers in the Draft World.”  The post was about a draft horse friend attending a judging clinic for Gypsy Horses.  I was greatly confused, then, when the comments I received on Facebook about this post had nothing to do with what I had written, yet were lively and full of strong opinions.

I am indebted to my friend Eddie McDonough for clearing up my confusion.  The comments on my post came predominantly from people from Great Britain, and they were reacting to the term “Gypsy Horses.”  It appears that this is a name given much attention in America, but it is used much less often in England.  Instead, these horses are often referred to as coloured cobs, and they often have little connection to ‘Gypsy’ people, travelers, or Romanys.  In addition, they are often not even members of a standardized breed in England, as Frank Yardley’s comments above suggest.

The strong opinions that my post elicited were reacting to the American interest in these horses that has perhaps romantically but not fully accurately labeled them ‘Gypsies’.  Frank Yardley’s involvement as well as many others with coloured cobs indicate that these horses are bred and used by many outside the traveler community.  (It’s also interesting to note how often the name ‘Gypsy’ shows up in the Fell Pony Society stud book, indicating that the name may not be so much associated with a breed as with a type of pony, of which Fells can be one representation.)

American interest in standardizing a breed that hasn’t been well-defined in its homeland also seems to be a point of contention.  I don’t quarrel with this sort of effort, as a breed has to start somewhere, and there are definite benefits to getting people organized and cooperating.  In addition, none other than former Fell Pony breeder and author Clive Richardson has written in Carriage Driving magazine that ‘gypsy ponies’ deserve to be considered the tenth native breed of British pony. (3)

Richardson acknowledges that gypsy ponies as a breed have not been defined in the same way as other British natives:  “Unlike most native breeds whose characteristics evolved from the geographical area from which they took their name, this breed developed in all parts of the country.  There are no written records to chart its evolution, until comparatively recently no breed societies to supervise its preservation and welfare, no agreed breed standard other than an accepted oral tradition, and not even an accepted name for this well-established breed.  Despite all this, it may justly claim to be one of Britain’s native breeds and the only one to have developed specifically for harness work.” (4)

I have long known of a close connection between Fells and ‘Gypsy Horses.’  Appleby Fair is often cited as a vibrant market place for Gypsies, and it is located in the heart of Fell country.  It is not uncommon for Fell breeders to also keep coloured cobs, and Fell blood is known to have contributed to the Gypsy ‘breed.’  With time perhaps Gypsy Horse lovers in America will give recognition to the broader history and use of these horses in England outside the traveler community, though I’m sure the name is so well-established here as to be unchangeable.  And perhaps people from Great Britain will understand that organizing a breed society for these horses might endow coloured cobs with some of the same benefits that the Fell Pony Society provides for our breed.

There is always plenty for all of us to learn about equine history and breeding, regardless of which side of the pond we live on.  Rarely is it as romantic and simple as it first appears.  That’s been true for me in learning about Fells, and it certainly also seems to be the case for ‘Gypsy Horses.’

1)      Yardley, Frank.  “Tips about working cobs,” Heavy Horse World, Autumn 2002, p. 53.
2)      Yardley, Frank.  “When the Royal Mews missed out!”, Heavy Horse World, Summer, 2003, p. 63.
3)      Richardson, Clive.  “The Tenth Native Breed,” Carriage Driving, February/March 2005, p. 51.
4)      Richardson, p. 51.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

Pony Commentaries on Leadership

I’ve just finished collaborating on another article for Rural Heritage magazine with my friend Doc Hammill.  This one is about the incredible opportunities that our daily interactions with our equines present for improving our relationships.  Doc is adamant that when we improve our relationship with our hooved friends at feeding time, at haltering time, when leading, and when grooming, we will ultimately see improvement when we work together.

Doc has produced a video called Gentle Training 2: Daily Opportunities that illustrates the practices that he has put into place with his horses.  While Doc and I have slightly different styles, I generally felt like I was looking in a mirror when I watched the video.  Doc has made a great contribution by capturing these techniques in a format that others can watch and learn from.

Doc’s discussion of teaching our horses to come when called reminded me of a humorous incident last fall….

In the middle of a wet cold snowstorm, with the wind howling, I pull up next to the pony pasture with my horse trailer to bring the last of the ponies home for winter.  I call for the ponies, but no one shows up.  I start walking in their direction, still calling, and still no ponies.  Finally I can see them, and their feet haven’t moved from where I first saw them when I drove by a few minutes before.  So much for leadership!

I’d been so flattered last summer when the ponies consistently came when I called, when they followed me without being asked as I returned to my truck, when they respected my lead across a river.  But their respect for me as a leader apparently wasn’t enough to prod them into activity during a snowstorm!

On the other hand, that day I was able to easily halter head mare Sleddale Rose Beauty and lead her across the river, even leaning on her as I stumbled on rocks in the riverbed.  And the other two ponies followed.  Once we were at the gate next to the trailer, the other two ponies let me halter them.  And because the wind kept blowing the door to the trailer shut, I had to hold the door while loading, which meant I needed to load both Jonty and Rose from the offside.  They followed my lead easily, letting me throw the lead rope over their backs and then follow them into the trailer on their near side to tie them once they were clear of the blowing door.

On his video, Doc says, “People often ask me what’s the secret to having horses that are well behaved.  It’s not sending them to the trainer.  It’s not having formal training sessions.  The thing that makes more difference than anything else in safe, willing, comfortable, responsive horses is what we do day to day, every moment we’re around them.  Why would they suddenly behave in the ways we want when we have them in harness if they’re not reminded and required to behave in ways that are acceptable, safe, and cooperative on a day to day basis.  That’s the secret.”

Even master horsemen like Doc are occasionally tested by their equines.  The true test of our leadership, of course, is how we respond to those tests and then how our horses respond in turn.  In the midst of that snowstorm last fall, there were lots of ways the ponies could have behaved that would have resulted in them not being home for the winter at the end of the day.  As it turned out, the relationship I had with them was sufficient that all three loaded safely into the trailer and subsequently got home.  I’ll take that as their final commentary on my leadership.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

Black and White and Equine Vision

I’ve been trail riding my Fjord horse gelding Torrin for eleven years now.  We have a lot of fun together and recently have expanded our repertoire to include cantering bareback.  For me this takes a lot of trust, and Torrin has earned it.  He does, however, still look askance at melting snowbanks, often taking a half step sideways when there’s a dark spot in the white mass.  Last week I finally gained insight into this behavior.

I first remember this behavior from our earliest trail rides when snow wasn’t part of our lives.  There was a boulder along the road, however, that always attracted Torrin’s attention.  It had two dark circles on a lighter background which I always thought of as eyes.  What I learned last week helped me understand why Torrin noticed them.

I’ve been reading Understanding the Ancient Secret’s of the Horse’s Mind by Dr. Robert M. Miller.  This paragraph in the chapter ‘Understanding the Unique Perception of the Horse’ was revelatory:  “More than any other sense, the vision of the horse is its primary danger sensor.  It is the horse’s vision with which we are least able to identify.  In some ways, the vision of the horse may seem inferior to ours.  For example, horses have poor color vision.  They see most things in shades of black and white and pastels.  For that reason, black and white are the most visible colors to a horse, whereas for us it might be orange, yellow, or red.  That’s why very black or very white objects are more frightening to a horse, especially if the object is unfamiliar.” (1)

If black and white are the most visible colors, I can understand now why Torrin looks warily at dark spots in snow banks and dark circles in light rocks.  The contrast is even greater to him that it is to me.  I still don’t know why Torrin is more tuned into these than other ponies that I’ve ridden, but it’s nice to have at least a little more insight into why he reacts at all.

Tonight on our ride on the county road, Torrin paused at the end of the driveway and looked into the distance.  He’s done this every time we ride, and now I understand why.  In the distance up the road is a mountain formation that my husband calls Bear Paws.  This time of year there is still snow, and it looks like a bear swiped its claws down the mountainside, leaving stripes of light and dark.  It is beautiful to me, but I rarely pause to look at it on my own.  I was more thankful than usual tonight for Torrin’s pause to look at the beauty of Bear Paws and its black and white stripes that are so noticeable by equine vision.

(1)    Miller, Robert M., DVM.  Understanding the Ancient Secrets of the Horse’s Mind.  Robert M. Miller Communications, Truckee, California, 1999, p. 18.

(c) Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

Lily’s Pre-Flight Checks

Lily executing her pre-flight check of turning her head to the girth while I'm saddling

The type of horsemanship I study advocates a ‘pre-flight check,’ a routine to determine whether your horse is mentally, emotionally and physically fit to be ridden.  I have repeatedly gotten a good laugh out of my Fell Pony mare Lily because she has her own version of a pre-flight check.  The purpose of her routine, it seems, is to see if her human is worthy to work with on that particular day.

Here are some examples of Lily’s version of a pre-flight check.  Will I let her toss her head while I’m haltering her or will I take the halter off and start over, repeating until she is respectfully still?  Will I let her move her feet while I’m saddling her or will I make her stand still, backing her up if necessary and returning her to the original spot?  Will I let her pick her feet up to distract me from tightening the girth or will I ask her to stand quietly, again backing her up and returning her to the original position until she complies?  Will I let her turn her head towards the girth area when I’m working there or will I make her keep it straight forward  until I ask for something different?  When mounted, will I tolerate her doing her own version of lateral flexion without prompting or will I reward her for it only when I ask for it?

I’ve been working with Lily several times a week for the past five months.  During that time I’ve worked with her on each of her pre-flight check routines.  It was when she became pretty reliable at standing still while saddling that she starting lifting her feet when I tightened the girth, testing me as a leader in a different way.  I know she’s inventing these things as I figure her out because for our first nine years together she never rubbed her head on me, and in the past month while I’ve been saddling, she’s started doing this.

When I think back over the past five months, I realize that Lily and I have made a lot of progress, and that progress has gone faster when I’ve been more aware of her pre-flight checks.  When I have made her ‘behave’ more respectfully, she has complied, while at the same time coming up with new ways to see if I’m paying attention.  Apparently on most days, I’ve passed Lily’s pre-flight check.

I will always wonder if, because Lily has known me her entire life, she is more able to and interested in testing me continually.  Fortunately there’s been a benefit to Lily’s pre-flight checks; laughter is definitely good medicine!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012

Setting Things Up for Success

Hauling water with Mya

While it’s a good philosophy of life in general, setting things up for success seems especially important when working with horses.  Dr. Robert Miller, the renowned veterinarian and imprint training innovator, says, “The first incident of any kind experienced by a horse is important.  The first veterinary treatment, the first shoeing, the first trailer ride, the first saddling – all leave an indelible impression upon the horse’s mind and nothing short of a lobotomy will ever erase it.” (1)  So the better we can do as horsemen and women to set up those first experiences to be positive, the better will the lives of our horses be, and ours as well.

This topic came to mind one day recently when I was setting up my work for two different ponies in succession.  The first pony I worked was my young stallion Robin.  I intended to walk him down the driveway from his paddock to the round pen.  Spring is in the air here, and Robin’s energy is high.  My job in handling him is to channel that energy and manage it as best I can.  Since our walk to the round pen included passing the entire length of my senior stallion’s pen, I saw an opportunity for setting things up for success.  I tied Apollo to the fence away from the road so that he wouldn’t charge and run the fence while Robin and I walked by.  Robin’s and my walk to the round pen was a positive experience for both of us.  I had a little laugh, though, as I didn’t tie the mares in the other paddock, and Rose charged the fence, giving me an opportunity to practice regaining Robin’s attention.

The second pony I worked that day was Mya the Wonder Pony.  We were hauling water to fill the stock tank she shares with two other ponies.  A pick-up had been parked in the driveway, leaving an eight foot gap between it and the haystack.  That’s enough room for Mya and her cart to pass, but it’s a squeeze.  The wind was up a little that day, billowing the tarp on the haystack into the road.  So while we probably could have navigated the tight space, I moved the pick-up instead of taking the chance of a bad experience.

I once heard a comical line that a plan is God’s idea of a joke.  I frequently think of that line when trying to set things up for success.  While I tried to set things up in advance for my work with Robin, for instance, on the way back from the round pen we had to navigate the tight space between the truck and the haystack since the truck had arrived on scene while we were in the round pen.  Setting things up for success means not only anticipating as many problems as possible and avoiding them but also developing the skills we need to deal with the things that life inevitably throws at us.  That way, we can keep our sense of humor when our plans are inadequate and the joke is on us.

(1)    Miller, Robert M., DVM.  Understanding the Ancient Secrets of the Horse’s Mind.  Robert M. Miller Communications, Truckee, California, 1999, p. 34.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2012