Sunday, January 3, 2010

Back in the saddle again

I was so ready to start riding Rose again. And then she cut open her nose. I could have ridden her with the injury, but I didn't think it was the wisest idea because she was on twice daily penicillin injections. I waited until a few days after the injections were completed before saddling her up again.
I put both Rose and Remi into the large round pen and worked them both in circles to get some of the excess energy siphoned off. After a few minutes, I stopped them. Remi was still young and easily tired and Rose had worked out a few of her wild oats, which would prevent her from feeling completely wild and crazy when I got on her back after a four month break.
I left them in the round pen to wander while I trudged back into the tack room to gather my saddle and bridle. I put the saddle on a railing and hung the bridle off the saddle horn. Then I caught Rose and tied her to the fence. I lifted the saddle pad onto her back and settled it over her withers. I swung the saddle up over her back and adjusted it into place.
Up until now, Remi was wandering the fenceline, munching on the few weeds and pieces of grass that sprung up through the gravel. But when he saw that saddle being swung onto his mother, he was intrigued. He had never seen such a thing before in his short lifetime and it was high time to investigate. I pulled the cinch under her belly and tightened it up, then reached around her chest and grabbed the breast collar. I buckled it at her shoulder and connected the strap between her forelegs to the cinch. While I was working at Rose's left side, Remi was coyly examining this new strange piece of equipment. I peeked around Rose's chest and Remi had one stirrup clutched between his teeth, chewing on the rubber cushion. He pricked his ears forward and looked at me guiltily, as if he was saying,
"What? I wasn't doing anything..." and then he promptly dropped the stirrup.

He sniffed and nosed every inch of the saddle that he could reach, making sure to lick and chew on all the leather straps he could get into his little mouth.
I unbuckled Rose's halter and let the nose piece slip off her muzzle, then re-buckled it around her neck. I slid the bit between her teeth and pulled the bridle over her ears. Took the halter off and flipped the reins over her head. We were finally ready to go for a ride.


Horses can understand when their handler or rider is agitated, scared, excited, reckless, confident, or petrified. They are very attuned to body language, to how tightly you grip the reins or how rigid your body is in the saddle. However, they cannot judge these emotions by anything other than body language. Over the years I've taught my body how to relax even when my heart is racing and the blood is pounding in my ears. As I led Rose to the middle of the round pen, I did my best to appear relaxed and confident, which is what Rose needs to perform her best. Rose needs a person who knows what they're doing and who is brave enough for both the horse and rider. She gains confidence or fear from the person on her back.
I know Rose. She knows me. She and Teri and I had experienced a terrifying, wonderful, rewarding period of time together and that only improved our relationship. But I was still nervous about our first time back under saddle.
I took a deep breath and stroked Rose's forehead. I put my left toe in the stirrup and lifted myself into the saddle. I settled myself into the seat and put my other foot into the right stirrup. Rose stood and waited for me patiently.
"Alright Rosie, walk on." I nudged her forward. Her ears swiveled back to listen to me, then pricked forward as she energetically stepped out.
Remi found the idea of me sitting on Rose to be quite unusual. He trotted alongside us for a few minutes but quickly bored of trying to keep up. He fell back to a walk and contented himself with nosing through the sand. Every once in awhile he would come careening towards us at full tilt and then skim off behind us at the last second. Rose ignored him. It felt to me like she was refusing to allow him to take away the first bit of "personal time" she'd had since he was born.


She worked proudly underneath me, quickly performing each turn, stop, and gait change. We trotted and loped circles, changed direction, performed large figure 8s. I didn't ride for very long, Rose was out of shape and needed to work back up slowly. But for that precious half hour, all was right with the world. The fading sun shone on our faces, the breeze lifted the hairs off our sweaty necks and together we felt joyous.

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