Today was Ibn’s day for riding. I have to give him credit for one thing, he wasn’t as barn sour as he has been. That doesn’t mean he was a totally good boy however. As usual he gave the girls a nicker or two on the way to the barn. We saddle up on the barn extension next to the tack room. His ground manners are perfect, well almost. He doesn’t like taking the bit into his mouth. Rather than fighting with him, sticking my finger into his mouth etc., this year I decided to try putting some molasses on the bit. He still makes a fuss, but he takes it. Moraddinn was great about taking the bit he just wouldn’t let go of it. What is it with boys?
We went into the arena to warm up, and he even stood still for me without too much trouble. We started walking, and I decided that today was going to be a schooling day. You have to keep changing things up or they get bored, and misbehave. I know I get bored doing the same thing all the time, I can just imagine what a horse thinks when they have to do the exact same thing every time you get on their backs. If you change things up it’s more fun for horse, and rider.
So today we were going to do some simple schooling, walk, trot, and canter. Ibn was cool with the walk, he even collected nicely after some prodding. After all walking takes no thought or energy. He minded my leg cues, and everything. Ok let’s trot. No, I want you to do it when I say, not when you decide you want to trot. Then I had to slow him down. I wanted him to do an easy trot, and I wanted him to collect too. I am so demanding. We got that down finally, and of course the next thing I asked for was for him to canter. That was just too much to ask for, so he decided to conveniently forget that he was ever trained as a show horse. It was as bad as training a green horse. All he did was trot faster. I hate it when they do that. You expect it out of a young’un who is just learning the ropes, but this was ridicules. He’s fifteen, and he definitely knows better. Out came the whip. I don’t like to use whips or spurs, but Ibn can be so stubborn that it’s the only thing that will make him do what he knows he’s supposed to do. Once he decides that he’s not going to get away with not doing what you want, you can put it away. He’s such a little brat.
I finally got him to canter, but not on my cue. Fine we’ll do the canter, stop, walk, canter thing. Eventually they get the drift of it, and do it on cue. Ibn was just being stubborn about it. We did this several times around the arena, and finally my leg gave out. Next time we will do the back up, canter, stop, back up, canter. That really refines the “do it on cue” idea. I did that forever with Moraddinn, again I think it’s a boy thing. Of course I’ve only ever had two boys, Moraddinn, and Ibn so I don’t really know if that’s true or not, it just feels that way.
We’ve worked for about an hour at this point, so I take him out on the trail. He’s getting real good about going up to the gate of the arena, letting me open it, back up, and go through. When he wants to he’s great with leg cues. Like some people have selective hearing, he has selective memory. Ibn goes up the drive with no messing around until Marina screams. He stops, but not for long. This is a vast improvement from the first time we went out. He didn’t want to leave his mares for anything then.
I take him to the right (same way I went with Marina), and make him trot for a little bit. My right leg is still sore, so I don’t do it for long. Rudy told me to take him over ditches where he will have to jump, and I know where there are ruts where I can take him back and forth for him to jump over. That didn’t work, so I say forget it, and I stick with the rough terrain. We meander around going towards the road past the gate our neighbors put up to keep the ATV’s out. We come out just about where the two horses are, and Ibn says hello. I’ve never been beyond Baker’s land so we keep going up the road, and I do mean up. I find the end of Baker’s property and there are lots of side roads for us to explore. I keep on the main drag taking a few pictures. We’re now in the area where the little mountain between our house and the Sacramento’s is. I take a new view of the Capitan’s. We are higher up, and further south. I can get both mountains, and the saddle in one shot.
It’s just about time to go back, so we turn around much to Ibn’s satisfaction. Like all horses he has a great sense of direction, and knows when we are going home. Magically he’s walking faster, and perkier, even trotting. We have one steep hill to climb, and then for the most part it is down hill. He takes that at a canter no problem. All the way out he was doing lookey lou’s, tripping over his own feet because he wasn’t paying attention, always taking the easy route, avoiding anything that might be difficult. Now he doesn’t care, rocks, ditches, whatever, he’s game. Yes he’s still barn sour, but not as bad as before.
We get home just about the time I wanted, schooling for an hour, and trail for an hour. Ibn’s just fine, cooled down, not breathing hard, and perfectly happy to be home. I on the other hand am a wreck. I may have the horses ready for the Ft Stanton ride, but I don’t know about me. I put him away, go back to the house, and make myself a cup of coffee first off. Every muscle in my body hurts. I took a muscle relaxer, and some Tylenol before we left, but evidently it wasn’t enough. It’s a good thing I go to the chiropractor later. I try to lie down for a bit before I have to change, and go to my appointment, when Rudy calls. I’m exhausted, but talking to Rudy is far more important. Still and all I got a little nap, went to the doctor, got my pedometer, and came home in time to feed. I also got to see land I’ve never seen before. They say you can ride all the way to Ft Stanton on horseback. It’s supposed to be about 15 miles. I don’t plan on doing that, but there’s a lot of land to explore between here and there.
So what if I’m getting fat, old, and ugly with muscles that don’t want to work right, and keep me awake at night with pain. As long as I can still get on a horse, and ride where there are no fences, I can deal with the rest. Just think, tomorrow I get to do it all over again on Marina. I’m living the life of Riley.
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