I'm a two horse gal!

I rode both Dee and Red today.  Woohoo!

I brought Dee in and saddled her up to ride in the manège, but then noticed Alfie leading a horse in there.  I was a bit disappointed because it is always a bit worrying taking Dee into the arena with another horse and I cannot take her out on her own at the moment.  I have decided to leave her barefoot as the Cavallo simple boots are so successful, but do not have boots for her front hooves yet.  I also just didn't feel like trying to hack alone with her today.

Then I realised that the horse in the manège for a lesson was Red.  Dee usually behaves well with Red and Alfie was happy for me to go in there too.  So I schooled Dee for half an hour.  I took great care to keep her out of Red's way and not be a hindrance to the lesson and that all went very well.  Dee has not forgotten any of her schooling.  We practised up and down transitions, turning on the forehand, leg yielding and shoulder in.  It was good to be working with her and she was relaxed and responsive.

At the end of the lesson, I then took Red over and Alfie tied Dee up for me.  I schooled Red a little for about 10 minutes.  He is so strong and less cooperative than Dee.  I am still aware that he is too much horse for me – but it was nice to ride him a little anyway.

The arena

This evening I rode Dee in the arena. This has always been a frightening place for her. There seems to be something scary on all sides as far as Dee is concerned. On one side there is a clear view of the motorway with all sorts of vehicles whizzing by, and currently long-term roadworks. On the second side it is bordered by the roofs of a row of stables, as the arena is set a little above their level, and Dee sometimes jumps at the sound of a horse moving about or a broom knocking against a wall. On the third side there is a drop down beyond the fence with more stables, and further down a bank above the level of the fence with bushes. Occasionally a cat or a rabbit emerges from these bushes, and sometimes there are horses being frisky in the field beyond. The bottom of the arena is the scariest of all, and many of the horses do not like this end. There is a row of young trees behind which is a track to a field and also a number of items of machinery are kept there. The trees are gradually growing bigger and thicker, but at the moment the machinery - painted orange and red - can still be glimpsed. Today this end was even more worrying than usual because there was a man working on the machinery. He was not making any noise in his work, but he was just there - not seen clearly but still known by Dee to be there - and this was most unsettling for her.

The sky was dark and lowering and rain expected at any moment. I took Dee in - head high, steps short and tense - and we started slowly walking round at the top end, the less scary end. I counted her walking paces as I had on our last ride, and worked with this counting every time she stopped. I rode figures of eight and clover leaf patterns at the top end of the arena, counting out loud to her and praising her when she was brave enough to walk on after napping, or go past a part she had refused on the last round. Gradually her stride lengthened and she started to stretch her neck down sometimes and make chewing movements with her mouth. We walked in this way for about 20 minutes and then I took her back to her stable for her feed.

Perhaps some might think that this was very little to achieve - we did not trot, canter, or take any jumps; we did not manage to bend at the corners or do any real schooling at all. But Dee came out of the arena a much more relaxed horse that the one who entered. She had listened to me and kept moving forward. She had stopped when asked to stop and stood quietly when asked to stand, facing each direction. It would have been unwise and unsafe to have asked more of her, and I am most content.

Red is a good horse

Red is settling down very nicely. He has got used to going out with the geldings, and no longer calls for Dee. I think his thorough enjoyment of the lush grass in the new field has compensated for being parted from her. He no longer shows any distress at leaving her and tonight was perfectly relaxed and comfortable in the arena.

'ö-Dzin rode Red in the arena this evening - practising transitions, getting him to stop and stand, and generally asking him to listen. He behaved beautifully and 'ö-Dzin found it really useful to be able to practice these, and also trotting and cantering without needing to cope with avoiding trees and overhead branches.

It will be useful to have access to an arena again to work with Red a little. He is a good horse, and a kind horse - he just doesn't realise he is so big and strong and can be dangerous if he is not paying attention. I think he has the potential to be a really good horse because he is willing, responsive and unflappable. Nothing perturbs him when we are out on a hack. However he can be a little belligerent sometimes and lacking in manners, but we hope this will improve as we work with him more often.

I am only 5 ft 2 and have suffered a few horse-related injuries in the last couple of years, so I am not as strong and robust as I used to be around horses. My right knee and left arm are weak, so I always have to be aware of this when leading Red or Dee and coping with their unpredictability. As well as being a spooky Mare, Dee can also be quite mischievous. This is actually one of the things I like about her - she has such character. However occasionally if something has excited her, she may decide to just take off when being led, and I have learned the hard way that there is not much I can do to stop her when she does. I have a pressure halter that I use with her when she is in a naughty mood and knowing she is wearing it is usually sufficient to elicit good behaviour.

Red is a very vocal horse and always whinnies when we arrive at the yard. This seems to have caught on with Dee and she now whinnies as well. This must be one of the most delightful aspects of owning horses - the noises they make: nickering in greeting, the low, deep whinny that says they know you are about to feed them, neighing across the field, and snorting with interest or excitement.