Week One

On Wednesday, February 22^nd, Surya walked down the long driveway of her home in California to climb onto a giant tractor-trailer horse truck. She was five years old, and innocent in the eyes of the world. Soon, she would travel more than 3,100 miles and pass through 15 states. The destination: New Jersey.

The shipping company I used was *almost* the most expensive option I found. But, they came highly recommended by my trainers and apparently everyone else on the internet. So, accompanied by a health certificate, shiny new black halter, and fluorescent green horse sheet, and vaccinated against everything (she was headed to New Jersey, after all), Surya set out.

The truck was to drive straight through to Lexington, stop for a layover, and then drive the rest of the way. Surya would arrive Sunday morning. I was patient for 36 hours, and then started calling the shipping company.

Neurotic Horse Owner: When does she get to Lexington?

Patient Shipping Company: Friday evening.

NHO: It’s now Friday at 5pm. Is she there?

PSC: Not quite yet. Email me Saturday morning.

NHO: It’s Saturday at 7am. Is she there?

PSC: Yes. She’s fine. She arrived at 1am. They get about 6-12 hours of rest before continuing.

NHO: Okay. So, she leaves at what, noon? When does she get here? Still tomorrow morning?

PSC: Yes. We will call you an hour before we get there.

I celebrated Surya’s imminent arrival with a friend on Saturday night, and left for the barn sans sleep at 4:30am. I sat on a log outside the barn and stared down the driveway for the next 3 hours. To their credit, the shipping company called me almost exactly one hour before arriving, which enabled me to really gear up the welcome party by leaping around until I was so tired that I had my trainer drive me down to the end of the driveway when the truck showed up.

Two Big Burly Horsemen climbed out of the cab and went into the truck, commencing to make loud banging noises while I somehow found the energy to jump from one foot to another. Finally – FINALLY – one of the Big Burlies led Surya down the ramp and handed me her lead rope. I fed her a carrot.

Day 1: (Sunday) Surya pranced up the driveway, neck arched, ears up. The two mares in the mare paddock came running up and whinnied in welcome. Surya snorted and flagged her multi-colored tail. Because my trainers/barn owners are very careful, and she traveled all the way across the country with many different strange horses (some of whom were racehorses), it was decreed that Surya would spend two weeks in (relative) quarantine in a small field removed from the barn and other paddocks. When I unattached her lead rope, she trotted off along the fence line, and then almost immediately went to the water trough and sucked some down.  Well, no problem with the drinking of water. She then spent a good 45 minutes walking around swinging her neck around (I imagine it got pretty stiff after 4 days straight in a trailer). After a while, she walked over to the gate and stood with her head up, ears pricked, staring at the other horses and the barn. She remained that way for the rest of the day.

Why the hell am I in New Jersey?

In the afternoon, pushing 36 hours with no sleep, I left to take a nap. I went back at dusk bearing carrots and blankets. I whistled, then walked up to her and gave her a carrot. The goal being, eventually she will come at my whistle. She proved too fuzzy to need the blankets in the weirdly mild night. We stood for a while as the sun went down.

Welcome home.

Day 2: (Monday) I got to the barn after work, at dusk. This time, Surya came up to me when I whistled, looking for carrots. Smart horse. Here’s the thing: she has excellent ground manners. Even when excited, she gives people their own space and never throws her bulk around. She is polite with her mouth when taking treats, and doesn’t try to shove her nose where it doesn’t belong. My job is to keep it that way.  I absolutely refuse to have an ill-mannered anything (horse, dog, sibling, fish, etc.). Since she seemed to like hanging out and getting fed, I got her to follow me around. We worked on yielding to pressure and communicating by body language. I was entertained, and she got more treats when she did right.

After a while of her following me – walking when I did, stopping when I did – I picked up the pace into a jog. Surya followed right along in a trot, keeping a polite distance to my right. She stopped at almost the same time I did. I’m telling you, carrots work miracles. I picked out her hooves and found some of the standard horse itchy spots before leaving for the night.

Day 3: (Tuesday) I was excited tonight, ready to leap around and play. Surya came up to the fence when I whistled. I climbed through the fence and greeted her. Then, I just couldn’t help myself; I took off running to the other end of her field. I turned around and invited Surya to run with me, which she did. We had a lovely time. There will be another post re Running Around Like an Idiot, and in which I will explain my reasoning (insofar as it is extant). I ended playtime to groom her and scratch the itchy spots.

We worked some more on having her follow me of her own volition, and then I wandered over to The Shed.

The Shed.

There is hay inside The Shed. It is dry inside The Shed. It is warm inside The Shed. Surya did not like The Shed. Surya has been around sheds from the time she was born. I think, therefore, she did not like this one because she just spent four days in a small enclosed space and felt no need to repeat the experience. I, however, concerned that she might get cold and/or wet, wanted her to commune with the general spirit of BeingInTheShedness. So I went over to it and Surya stood 15 feet away watching to see if I would get eaten, and if not, what exactly I intended to do in there. I walked in. I didn’t get eaten. I stood awkwardly not sure what I was intending to do in there. I guess of kind of threw some hay around. Surya eventually stuck her head in to get a carrot, and then we departed to her flake of hay down at the other end of the field.

Stupid hay.

I sat down on the fence and ate an apple while Surya attacked her food.  She does a funny thing with hay – she really doesn’t like it in flake form or a pile, so she uses her front hoof to break it up and spread it around before eating it.  She does this vigorously and kind of angrily, with her ears pinned and a concerned look on her face. Also, she got most of her food from grazing lush pasture in California, so hay was a bit of a letdown. She would eat a few bites, then walk away a bit and try to graze the nonexistent winter grass, then come back with a resigned sigh and eat the hay some more. I would have felt bad if she weren’t so passive-aggressively hilarious.

Day 4: (Wednesday) We ran around. By now, she has figured out that if she presents me with a body part I will scratch it. She was really big on the butt scratches tonight. She also met my Awesome Rider Friend and got double her normal ration of carrots.

Day 5: (Thursday) I fed her carrots, I groomed her, I scratched her, I picked her hooves, we ran around. Then, in the dusk, I took her out of the paddock and walked her down the driveway. She was spooky and uncertain, but remained polite on the lead and listened to my voice commands. I let her graze some of the dried grass in the open area beyond the first pasture and she calmed down. She heaved a big sigh when I put her back in her field, and we had established the first level of trust.

Day 6: (Friday) I greeted Surya and then went up to the barn. A little while later I saw her trotting around, and then staring intently over the fence. All the way on the other side of the farm, there was a herd of deer grazing in one of the fields. Surya is extremely good at standing stock still and staring. She stands with all four feet square, her head as high as it will go, her ears pricked, and her tail lifted. When she really gets going, she can hold this pose with no encouragement for over fifteen minutes. I think this is the Kiger in her – ready to run for her life, but no silly prancing. We hung out for a while until it was truly dark; or, rather, I laughed at her while she stood there. So, I walked out into the big mares’ pasture toward where the deer were.  The stars and moon were out, and I could see where I was going. Nevertheless, it was a bit spooky, and I was shivering by the time I got to the center of the field. The mares’ pasture has an assortment of cross country jumps in it. In the dark, they could have been hiding vampires or scary people who play ice cream truck music (coyotes, mountain lions, snakes, spiders, I’m fine with). The deer were gone, and Surya watched me walk back. She nickered when I climbed through the fence. Oh good, you’re still alive. I pet her neck and she nonchalantly ambled over to her strewn about hay.

Day 7: (Saturday) The original plan was to ride Surya today in the indoor arena, while my trainer was in attendance. However, Surya was not entirely comfortable with this plan, and really the whole of the barn area. Ultimately, I decided to take a week hand-walking her and introducing her to the many people, cars, and other assorted scary objects wont to startle. Because she is so calm and assured, it is easy to forget that she hadn’t ever seen, among other things:

1. A bright yellow sports car
2. Jumps
3. An indoor arena

My trainer and I walked her up to the outdoor entrance to the indoor arena, and she planted her feet. WHY, exactly, do you want me to go into the world’s largest box? We took a couple steps inside, I held out treats, and we stood and chatted until the cost-benefit analysis weighed in favor of carrots. Thereafter, I walked her around, letting her sniff jumps, kickboards, and mirrors. We practiced walking out, and back in, and standing patiently while I poured dirt out of my shoes.

One week in, and there’s so much to do!

Freaky horse.

I Went to See a (Wo)man About a Horse

I live in a big East Coast city.  My horse lived in Comptche, CA, which is about as far away from me as you can possibly go in the country, with the exceptions of Hawaii and Alaska.  This did not deter me.  I started talking to the owners about her back before Thanksgiving, and eventually made plans to go see her in the middle of February.  The number one question I’ve gotten from people when telling them about this plan is, you seriously could not find a horse this side of the Mississippi?

Let me explain.  One day, I am going to ride across the country.  I need a pretty hardy horse.  Also, she had to be a mare, between 4 and 7 years old, at least 14.3 hands, have excellent conformation, and priced within my budget.  And be trained in the rudiments of dressage at least.  And hopefully be pretty.  I found all this and more, but beyond all that…she is just The One.  I knew the moment I looked at her picture.

Her name is Surya, registered name Prairie Creek.

She is a five year-old, 15.1 h Kiger Mustang. Kiger Mustangs are a breed of horses found on BLM (Bureau of Land Management) land in the remote canyonlands of southeastern Oregon. They are directly descended from the Iberian horses brought to the new world by Spanish conquistadores in the 17^th century (this is verified by various universities’ genetic studies).  They are defined by baroque characteristics – short, broad back, moderate muscling (much more than a Thoroughbred, less than a Quarter Horse), lower-set tail, moderately-sloping croup, well-crested neck, 45-50 degree shoulder angle, and robust bones. The modern-day Spanish equivalents are Andalusians, Lusitanos, and Lippizaners.  Kigers are also unique in that they survived in the wild for four centuries, so they are extremely hardy, have excellent hooves, and even when bred in captivity are just a bit less domesticated than the average horse. They are very intelligent, calm, and self-assured.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I got up at 4:30am and got on a plane to Denver.  And then got on a plane to Oakland, CA.  And then got a rental car.  I drove away from San Francisco singing along to Joy to the World (by Three Dog Night) at the top of my lungs.  Three hours later, I got off the highway in Mendocino County, and thought thank goodness I’m almost there.  I was not almost there.  The road quickly got narrow and twisty, surrounded by towering pines and occasional houses.  An hour later the houses were gone, the music was turned off, and I was driving on switchbacks crawling up and down hills.  I occasionally passed small towns.  A half hour later the road straightened out and I drove through vineyards.  After a while I passed a road called Gschwnd Road.  We were losing vowels, people.

I would just like to interject here, and mention that I am very short.  If I stand very straight, I am 5’0”.  The rental car I had was clearly made for normal-sized people, and I could barely see over the steering wheel, even with it on the lowest setting. Plus, it was raining. After four and a half hours of driving, I was slouching a bit, and the driving was thus getting dangerous and exciting.

Another half hour later, I entered the Navarro River State Park, which is described as an “eleven-mile long redwood tunnel to the sea.”  By that time, it was very dark, and there was mist drifting through the trees on either side of the road.  I started to feel like I was on a Quest.

I turned off onto a side road and finally got to the owners’ driveway.  In an inspired gesture of welcome and navigation assistance, they had placed a hobby horse at the entrance with Surya’s name written on it.  I made it!  I drove through their gate and entered another world.

A mile-long gravel driveway extended before me.  An expanse of grass ran along the left side until it reached the houses and barn.  Forests of towering redwoods made the hills surrounding the farm on three sides seem like mountains. Between one of the houses and the barn, there was a recessed pond.  The still black water reflected the Milky Way.  I parked outside the barn, stepped out of the terrible rental car, and was greeted by a chorus of bullfrogs and the spicy scent of pines.  The owner’s daughter came walking down the driveway to greet me; we couldn’t see each other’s faces in the dark, but exchanged hugs regardless.

“So, would you like to see Surya?”

I’m pretty sure I just squeaked in response.  So we went into the charming and wooden 5-stall barn, which smelled of sheep and horses, and I waited while she disappeared into a dark stall.  She reemerged leading the most beautiful horse I had ever seen.  Surya stopped rather regally in the center of the barn and looked at me with her ears pricked forward, like “Yo. ‘Sup.”

The owner appeared and after we finally met in person, she put a bridle on Surya and tossed me up bareback. Surya stretched her neck into a beautiful arch and responded perfectly to my every request. A short while later, driven by a need for a bathroom, we repaired to the daughter’s house.  They fed me a delicious meal of food grown on their farm and let me collapse into bed.

The next morning I leapt out of bed at six am, grabbed food for me and carrots for Surya, ran out of the house, and skidded to a stop at the base of the porch. Trails of mist extended from the redwood forest surrounding the farm and floated over the expansive valley of jeweled green grass.  The rising sun glinted off the gray pond and threw shafts of yellow light on the hill where the very fluffy sheep were frolicking. Surya and three other mares grazed near the dressage arena, their breath frosting in the chilly air. Surya tossed her mane and took a step forward into a beam of sunshine.  Orchestral music swelled into resounding major chords in a combination of Dvorak and Tchaikovsky that somehow intertwined in a way that didn’t cause Bach to roll over in his grave.  It was getting ridiculous, y’all.  It was too perfect.  Something had to be wrong with this horse.

I waited for some perspective. A couple of roosters crowed down in the bird pens.  Otherwise, it was quiet.  The Great Pyrenees guard dog came up and wagged the muddy mop attached to her hind end. I got impatient and headed down to the pasture.

I spent a couple of hours plying Surya with carrots, finding her itchy spots, and encouraging her to follow me around. After a while, I put down the bag of treats and just stood near her while she grazed, breathing in the morning.  One of the other mares wandered over to introduce herself and beg for food.  Surya lifted her head, pinned her ears back, and chased her off with gnashing teeth. My human.  Then, she trotted back to me and casually returned to grazing.

I know she was just guarding her found carrot supply. But, she liked me!

Yes, those are highlights in her mane. All natural.

Later, we tacked up and headed up the trails into the redwood forest.  She was fantastic to ride.  She listened to my seat, she moved off the slightest pressure, she asked for contact with the bit, she was surefooted and confident, and when the other horses spooked at a bird she just stopped and looked toward the sound.  She trotted with a round back, and it was incredibly easy to sit.  Her extended trot was floaty and suspended and smooth.  She stretched out at the walk and went at a good pace.  Her leg yields at the walk were beautiful.  She did great at shoulder-ins as well.

She does like to go fast.  And her canter needs work. It’s not a bad canter – she just gets excited and tries to take off, and doesn’t always pick up the correct lead. From what I could tell, it’s uphill, and when she gets better at it, will be amazing.  We had a fantastic ride, and I loved her.

Guns v. Butter

There is a saying: never put a green rider with a green horse.  It’s just a bad combination.  Of course, there is a continuum, wherein the more advanced the rider, the more green the horse can be.  Surya is, I think, at the maximum “greenness” for my riding ability.

There are a lot of things I am going to have to work on: being lighter in my aids, encouraging her to slow down with my seat instead of speed up, supporting her in getting a good canter, and productively continuing her training.  And iteratively becoming a better rider.  For better or for worse, we are going to have to figure it out, because I bought the little mare.

Time to go Questing!