Not every training ride goes as planned. Toby and I have graduated from the arena to riding around the property. We were following Mel and Jake over logs, around trees, and Toby was handling every obstacle like a champ. I became over confident and thought it was a great idea to video our awesome training ride. As the horse in front disappeared around a corner Toby became nervous and wanted to catch up. I was busy playing videographer instead of trainer. When I added my leg to aid Toby around the large cactus bush, he didn’t pick up on the cue and aimed strait for the cholla. I’m pleased to report that both horse and rider avoided the prickly, instead I escaped with only a mouth full of pine needles from a near by piñon tree. When I’m asking a horse to learn they deserve my full attention. Although it was Toby’s training, I’ve definitely learned my lesson.
Viewing entries tagged
He was an old man, 28 to be exact, when we first found him. The black mustang with a broad white stripe down his nose had ambled through the paddocks and gummed his hay for almost ten years at the rescue. Although his sway backed apperience deemed him a pasture pal, it was his crow hopping antics that landed him on the unrideable list. Neither of this deterred my mothers love for the dark and handsome animal. So when the day came to take Cash and Zena home for the first time, we loaded Bozley right in behind them. We knew that Bozley had a limited number of years under saddle left to him but he wasn't ready for retirement just yet. He still had he most important job any horse could have, to teach a little boy how to ride. His easy going nature and smooth gait made him the ultimate teacher, but his lessons were hard learned. One afternoon we were out on trail, my nephew Taryn had just become comfortable riding off lead, and Bozley spooked. Taryn flopped in the saddle, his horse gave a little buck, and the boy somersaulted through the air landing on the ground in a belly flop. Taryn didn't move and Bozley stood there staring at him, both a little stunned at the event. I jumped off my own horse and scooped him up in my arms. After a good long hug I asked him, "What do cowboys do when they get thrown from their horse?" He replied through big boy tears, "Get back on." He wiped the dirt from his face, petted Bozley's nose making them both feel a bit better, and got back on.
Now at 32 Bozley will still side step, gallop off, rub an unsuspecting knee on a tree or simply ignore my nephew. These are the lessons that any young man should be given. To persiveere through a difficult situation, to care for and communicate with another creature, and discover leadership. One day Taryn will out grow the aging horse and Bozley will live his golden years out in comfort because he earned it, but until then they are inseparable.
The old man is the barn favorite, even our stable manager Karl dotes on him. Although his sides have started to grey and his hay is served as a soaked mush, the geriatric horse still nips and plays with the other geldings. So as the old adage goes, "You are only as old as you feel."