Getting Sidetracked

I'm back! And my apologies for being out of touch. There's been lots going on and only so many hours in the day (although I've petitioned for more, my request seems to have gotten lost somewhere. Go figure). It's been a mix of stuff, too, some happy and some not so happy.

Fable -- deep in concentration

Thank you all for your kind words about the loss of RB. His stablemate Fable is adjusting and has become even more fond of hanging out with the humans. RB's owner has been looking for another companion of the equine variety, and I'm sure one will turn up soon.

The color-coordinated section of our Peaceable Kingdom
Jasmine (who passed last year), Tal, and Eclaire

My own old kitty, Tal, passed on to the rainbow bridge last month, too. He was another senior citizen who led a full life. Although we are now cat-less, we still have the bunny and bird, and of course Eddie.

Eddie -- without his winter coat

Eddie is still on stall rest, but is doing well. He continues to be an excellent patient, and the last time his vet took x-rays he said the fracture was healing beautifully. There's every chance he will recover and be able to go back to the dressage work we both love so much. He's now sporting a special shoe instead of a cast, and the places on his heals where the cast rubbed have also healed -- thanks in large part to Stacey, the stable's owner and my good friend.

On the writing front, Death By A Dark Horse, has been doing well, and it made Amazon's Hot New Release List for both mysteries and women sleuths! That was a thrill! The list is updated hourly and it hung in on those list for well over a week!

The Blog Tour de Force in January was a huge success as well as a lot of fun. It was work, and a bit confusing at times (from my end, anyway), but well worth it. I'm sure there are more than a couple new readers here who found their way from that tour. Welcome, to all of you!

The second in my mystery series, Levels Of Deception will be out in e-book form this month. Phew! Edits are still being worked on, but I see light at the end of the tunnel. It's a longer book than DBADH, and takes place not only in Western Washington, but Montana, too. Stolen dinosaur fossils are the focus in this story, in addition to a murder -- all of which Thea must solve. For those of you who are Blackie fans, don't worry. He's there, too!

So, what have my horses taught me to deal with this flurry of activity (you knew I was going here, right?)? Mostly, that no matter how orderly you strive to make your life, the unplanned and the unexpected will arise. In those times of need, if you pause for a moment to scratch someone else's back when they need it, you'll find they return the favor.

RB - 1985 to 2011

Yesterday, January 17, 2011, a long-time and very dear friend of mine passed away. RB was an Appaloosa gelding, and for almost his whole life belonged to my friend Cheryl. He was just two days shy of 26 -- a long life for a horse.

Although he'd been retired for several years, RB was always in the center of social activity. He never failed to greet me -- or anyone else -- when arriving at his barn. He continued to boss around his best horse-friend, demand treats and attention from the humans, and issue orders. It was impossible to ignore RB and equally impossible not to be taken in by his outgoing personality.

Although he could be a challenge, requiring his rider to stay alert and be a strong leader, he was talented and athletic. He had a cadence to his trot that was both lovely to watch and sit, and he excelled at lateral work. Dressage suited him, keeping his intelligent mind busy and focused.

I will miss his bright eyes and loud, friendly whinny, but I believe he is romping in green pastures now with my own Tiki and Brinn.

It's The Little Things...

Training is often a process of breaking a goal down into its essential pieces. What is required of me, as the trainer, is that I understand the steps my horse needs in order to accomplish what I'm asking. The steps are basic, even simple. If they can be done correctly and in proper order then my horse can accomplish the goal I have set down for him. It also helps if my horse is rewarded for those steps. He stands a better chance of understanding them, and therefore repeating them, if there's something in it for him.

When Eddie was a youngster I learned very quickly the value of bribery. Punishment didn't work with him -- he'd just leave. In fact, it wasn't only punishment that would have him exiting stage right. He'd cooperate with me so long as it amused him, or interested him, but once something else seemed like more fun I'd be a bit hard pressed to change his mind.

What I learned from my intelligent, independent horse was to reward all the little steps toward the goal, and not wait until we had a difference of opinion about something. What happened wasn't a spoiled horse, it was a horse who gradually understood it was more fun to be with me than not. He learned to go where he was led, stand when being groomed and behave himself when being ridden. In short, he's become a pleasant, reliable companion -- a quality that can't be overemphasized in a 1300 pound animal.

Of course, not every horse needs Eddie's level of coercion. Most don't. But I was thinking along these lines the other day when I set myself up with the goal of cleaning my kitchen. If you've been following this blog at all, you have a good idea where I'm going with this: I can relate everything in life to training horses (it's a gift, I know). Even cleaning the kitchen. It had reached a state of disaster due to me being involved in too many other things and nobody else seeming to care. If it was going to be cleaned, I was going to have to do it, and quite frankly running away seemed like a good option. I was that overwhelmed. Until…yup, I broke it down into its basic, essential parts. Since I really didn't want to gain back the poundage I have managed to lose lately by eating cookies each time I accomplished one item, I wrote it down.

Wipe down the counters?

Check.

Clean under the burners?

Check.

Mop the floor?

Check.

And so it went. I wrote down every little, trivial thing. By the time I was done, not only was the kitchen clean, but the list I'd compiled gave me a very satisfactory feeling of accomplishment -- as I was doing it.

It's the little rewards that help along the way…for people as well as horses.

Remind me again....?

Horses have great memories. They remember places, people, training, where the food is kept, you name it. And they remember for a whole lot longer than we do -- or so it seems.

Years ago I owned a gelding and a mare who were stabled together until a significant injury had me move the gelding to a barn where he could rehab and possibly retire. Two years of pasture rest seemed to do the trick -- he recovered. I moved him to the new stable I was working out of to put him back to work. The first day I led him out to his new paddock we passed one of my students leading my mare to the barn. Both horses stopped and did a double take. Disney couldn't have done a better job. It was not only obvious they recognized each other, but that they were pleased to see each other, too.

In his younger days, Eddie proved to me multiple times that once he figured out how to work a latch, he'd do it again -- immediately. He kept me on my toes trying to come up with stall and pasture latches he couldn't undo.

When not being entertained by it, I use this great memory of theirs in training. It's part of the communication ground rules: when I do this, you do that. The trick is to be consistent. I know I'm muddling things up when I'm not getting the same response from the horse.

I'm actually envious of that great memory. I could use it sometimes…like when I misplace my keys. Hmm…maybe if I was more consistent with my own habits….

Pass me a mocha, I'm just getting started.

Most of the serious work-time we spend on our horses' backs is, or should be, devoted to warming up. Regardless of the goal-of-the-moment, we have to physically and mentally prepare for the day's new lesson. 

Yeah, it's tedious. 

And no, it can't be skipped. 

Not only does the horse need to be prepared before he's asked to exert himself just a little more, but the rider has to prepare, too. Nobody hits the saddle ready to rock and roll. Even when you ride one horse after another there is a certain amount of adjustment, both mental and physical, that needs to be done with each horse.

What happens when we skip the warm up and plunge into the daily lesson? The warm-up insists on being done anyway. It's like a persistent little terrier. It won't go away. And if you don't pay attention and do what needs to be done, it will get underfoot and trip you up. Count on it. You cannot bully this little dog into submission. It will bite your butt.

The plus side is that the better you prepare, the more conscientious you are about your warm-up, the better the performance of the lesson-of-the-day. The warm-up is where you catch the problems and put into effect the solutions. It's where the questions are cleared up and the groundwork laid for more advanced work.

Are you not accomplishing what you thought you should, despite working hard? Take a look at your warm-up. I'll bet you a double-tall mocha you're leaving something out.

Maybe, just maybe, the success we want to experience in other facets of our lives need the same attention paid to preparation. I'll wager another mocha on that one.

Just Shoot Me Now.

My initial reaction when someone points out that I should have known something specific and didn't is to hoist a huge burden of guilt onto my own shoulders. I'll wonder why I didn't notice that glaring deficit of knowledge before committing the crime of ignorance. To aid in avoiding this situation, I keep a calendar, write myself notes (which are constantly revised), and never go to the grocery store without a list -- even if there's only three things on it. Furthermore, "I forgot," ranks right up there with "I didn't know" for reasons for self-reproach. I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one with that knee-jerk reaction.

Occasionally, I run into a horse who really fears making a mistake. They're nervous, uncertain creatures with little confidence in themselves. Working with them is extremely difficult. It's necessary not to over-face them, and essential not to punish them. If they're to become safe and reliable they have to have confidence in their surroundings and the people who work with them before they have confidence in themselves and their job. It's a long road requiring enormous amounts of patience and skill. A brief unkindness can undo months of work. Lack of consistency will make undermine trust.

Horses aren't as good at hiding their inner feelings as humans. They'll show us the effect we're having on them right away. And, to our credit, a great many of us take lessons, read, listen and watch in order to be better at working with the animals we love. I can't help but think those same efforts would be well applied to our human interactions as well. Who needs all that guilt, anyway?

How's that workin' out for you?

Progress rarely proceeds in a straight line.

I've heard that before, and always get a mental image of mildly hysterical, to and fro dashing around. Probably because that's what it feels like to me. I generate plenty internal anxiety when I'm learning something new -- often not understanding what the end result is supposed to be, or even why it's important. However, after (ahem) many years I know enough about my own process to be confident success will arrive with an "ah-ha" moment. For me, good guidance involves pointing out errors I didn't recognize myself as well as pointing out correct choices I also may not have noticed. Perceiving disapproval from a teacher can really lock up my ability to make positive progress.

So, when I train a horse I keep a close eye on mistakes of both the erroneous variety and the correct variety. I know the horse is learning when he doesn't make the exact same mistake twice in a row. New mistakes are cause for celebration. The same mistake generally indicates some kind of resistance that is blocking learning. That's where I have to step in and offer assistance. Often the resistance is due to incomplete understanding or misunderstanding of what is being asked. Sometimes it's fear-based. Sometimes there is a physical issue involved. Sometimes it's a combination.

Same thing happens when I teach humans. We make progress when we feel safe enough to try -- when the fear of making mistakes won't cause so much anxiety that we stop looking at what is happening as a result of our actions and start, instead, to protect ourselves, getting locked in a non-productive cycle. Teaching is as much about creating the right environment as it is about imparting information at the right time, asking questions that nudge the student toward the goal, then allowing the student to work through the process.

Maybe "So, how's that workin' out for you?" isn't always a snarky one-liner. I'm thinking it's a good teaching aid, too. Sometimes we need to be reminded to take a look at the results of our mistakes. We could make progress!