[QUOTE=asanders;3568068]
OK, reading SA’s reponse made me think more about my own.
I have been given the chore of dealing with some particular ‘issues’ a horse may have. I have found that if I proceed with absolute confidence, and simply ‘expect’ the horse to trust my judgement, even when they don’t know me, and don’t do XYZ for their own rider, they may not do it right away, but they WILL do XYZ for me, and once they get over the hurdle, will do it again for me with much less irrational behavior.
OTOH, the horse’s response to a given situation is a combination of level of trust in the rider, and level of fear about XYZ. Even if trust, is high, serious fear can leave you with planted feet by the stream. (Of course, some a horses may have very little real trust in the rider, but not be afraid of XYZ --horsey trips merrily accross --not really best case, but it works, I guess).
In this equation, you can acheive the required level of trust, by A) expecting it, and/or B) working hard for it. You get past the fear by C) slow methodical de-sensitization, and/or D) Getting the horse to do XYZ, despite their fear.
Depending on the relationship you have developed over time with a horse, you may limit your access to (D). Someone with no relationship with the horse obviously has limited access to (B) and ©. But there is not necessarily one formula for success.[/QUOTE]
Good points. I think part of choosing your formula is in knowing whether you are dealing with a particular fear of a situation, lack of confidence due to inexperience or a general crappy attitude of avoidance. With my own issue, I was there for the initial fall in the mud, so I knew where our issue began. But, because of my own rider confidence issues, when the fear started to lead to avoidance, I did not step up to the plate and retrain right then and there. So, in reality, I took a fear and trained it into avoidance. When I realized what I was doing, I had to step back and fix first my reaction and then my horse’s reaction. I felt I had to retrain the “Forward because I say so” with some sensitivity to the fear I knew was at the root of it. When I had approached it as a crappy avoidance and used a crop, spurs, or gruff voice, the reaction I got was genuine anxiety. Had it been sheer bullheadedness, I would have probably gotten a short fight followed by a sigh and surrender. Because I feel it is relevant, here is an article I wrote about this very issue for the Amatuer Owner section of another forum. I don’t think ASB_Own_Me’s problem is rider confidence, but the parts about the horses’ confidence in the rider is relevant to her situation. This was written only three weeks ago, and we are still dealing with it in a small way each ride with good progress.
Grey Horse Finds His Courage ~ an essay on horse and rider confidence and the creation of bad habits
Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes. I began to lose mine about 10 years ago. It can’t be attributed to one riding event. It was a slow progression over several years with me losing confidence in my own riding ability incrementally, one episode at a time. Grey Horse lost his confidence in his rider in a soft spot in the lawn when he was a three year old. When you are an Amateur Owner Trainer, and you start with an untrained, honest, good thinking horse, there is no one to blame for their learned bad habits other than yourself. There is also no one there to fix them for you. You are faced with some choices. You can admit defeat and learn to live with the habit. You can send the horse to a professional to fix for you knowing that you run the risk of reviving the habit once the horse is returned to you. Or, you can straighten out both yourself and your horse.
I don’t trail ride but I like to take a walk up or down the shoulder of the road, or around the hay field now and then. Grey would happily go up the road where the shoulder is flat and wide, but he became increasingly nervous going down the road where the shoulder drops off to the field. He began to “act funny” about stepping off the firm pavement to the soft dirt shoulder. This began around the time he took a fall and hurt himself. My best guess was that he was afraid of places where the surface or depth seemed to change on him. I couldn’t really blame him. After all he had had an experience where the ground literally sank out from under him. I had asked him to go through a puddle at the gate to the arena. He refused and spun around. Then he felt so smart about that, he threw in a couple of crow hops, ignored my attempts to steer, and sunk up to his stifles in the one available soft spot of the lawn, the grave of our broodmare which was settling in the autumn rains. I rolled off easily. He stopped quickly, humbled by being knocked flat by some unseen force and was easy to catch, but he was stiff and sore for days.
Soon after, I began to notice him becoming nervous in certain terrain, especially along the road where the hayfields dropped off on a slope. The distance in that direction that he would go willingly got shorter and shorter. He would reach “the spot”, and just fade out from under me, spinning around with wobbly knees and a snort. We had a few discussions about it. I had taken a whip to his backside on more than one occasion but he simply locked his brakes in the middle of the road and took it like a man. There would be no forcing him past his comfort zone. He was also nervous enough that I was unable to dismount safely, and I had no other horses to follow past “the spot”.
Next, he decided he didn’t want to go down the driveway towards the house. I assumed this was because there was a lot to look at, and when he stepped off the driveway, the lawn is very soft and mucky there just like the place where he fell. This is where my lack of confidence took over. They say if you haven’t fallen off, then you haven’t really ridden. I don’t come off often, but as I get older it hurts more and more. Sometimes I ask for it. Sometimes I’ve been too dumb to see it coming. Because of this, I have begun to over think the situations I put myself and my horse into. Over thinking has turned into avoidance. What used to be a sensible “I know better” evolves into a crippling “I can’t”. This is why Grey had not been cured of his fear of going past the hayfields or the house. His rider had become too much of a chicken to face up to it for both of them. I justified it by saying that it was alot to expect of a green three year old to just set off on his own away from the barn with no other horses to follow, but as he got older and his training progressed that excuse was no longer holding water. Don’t get me wrong, I knew how to retrain him. It just has just felt safer not to push the issue. As a result I have been slowly training him into a bad habit that could affect his usefulness his whole life.
Lately this has started to bother me. I firmly believe there are two lessons every horse must learn unconditionally. The first one is “Whoa”. The second one is “Forward”. Two years into his training, and we were still failing lesson Two on a regular basis. So, I set about to cure us both. In fact, at this point, I was unsure if he was really afraid or if I had created the myth of his fear to justify my own avoidance of overcoming the problem.
First I decided to tackle the driveway towards the house. I led him down the driveway past the house to eat grass by the chicken coop. He was snorting and blowing, but he went willingly. The day after I was able to ride him past his scary spot, to the chicken coop. The day after that, we went around the circular driveway both ways, and stood at the porch long enough to talk to my mother. He was restive but obedient. He still wasn’t comfortable with the whole house thing, but I had safely proven to him that I was asking him to do something reasonable.
My success in riding him down towards the house cemented my resolve to get him down the road and around the hay field. I followed the same procedure. I took him for a walk on the lead to eat grass so he could take a good look around. As expected, he got to “his spot”, paused and snorted. While he was considering his options, I patted him and coaxed him past. He was noticeably alert, but we went down the road aways to the field driveway where he could stand on a wide level area and eat grass. He soon relaxed. We walked around a bit more as he gained confidence in this new territory. Then, I asked him to step off the shoulder down the slope to the driveway left by the logging trucks this spring. Again he went willingly and followed me about 50 feet down the trail. Not wanting to lose our momentum, I went back to the barn and saddled him up. It was now or never. I admit I was running though a checklist in my mind. Was I rushing things? Should I work him first to tire him out? Was I deviating too far from my comfortable safe routine? Was my helmet fastened securely?
We returned to the road. He walked past “his spot” like a trooper. He stepped off the shoulder, down the slope into the field. I’m thinking “Hey this is going great, is it possible it was that easy?” He got to the spot where I had stopped him while leading, and that was as far as we were going. I kicked a little harder. I had purposely left my riding whip behind. I didn’t want to bully him into this. I wanted him to trust me and gain confidence in his rider’s requests. I could feel my own resolve fading, but we had come this far. For me to give in now would only reinforce his habit and negate the progress made thus far. I made sure he was standing safely, and I dismounted. I ran my stirrups up, and pulled the reins over his head. The over thinking kicked in again. Should I have brought a lead rope? Maybe even a lunge line? Would he spook and jump on me? Would he try to pull back and return to the barn dragging his reins and/or me? The over thinking was in full swing. I took a deep breath. We were going down that field.
Grey Horse followed me warily down the trail keeping a close eye on the shoulder high grass on each side as it rustled in the wind. We went most of the way down and I turned and lead him back. He was a little snorty, but this is a sensible horse. Any escalation at this point would be entirely my fault. When I got to the spot where I had dismounted I called my helper over to hold him as I remounted. I turned him down the field and started talking to keep myself breathing. Grey Horse advanced slowly but willingly. He was feeling the burden of responsibility for his own safety in this new situation, not mine I’m sure.
We got the point where I had stopped leading the second time. He recognised “the spot,” he had marked it with manure just to be sure. He hesitated. I continued talking and kicked him forward. We continued down the field well past his limit breaking into a jog now and then. At the bottom I turned him gradually instead of halting and putting him in a position where he could fade out from under me as was his habit. Now to get him back up the field without a bolt. He jigged a bit seeing the safety of the barn up ahead, but settled in obediently enjoying his well deserved praise. We returned to the driveway. Instead of turning towards the barn, he continued confidently towards the house. I began to turn him along the circle, but he obviously had thought we were going on towards the chicken coop. Delighted in his eagerness to go forward, I steered back that way, then around the back of the house, and to the barn the long way. We had crossed a major hurdle. He had regained confidence in his rider, and I had regained confidence in my horse and myself. I was back on the road to being a responsible Amateur Owner Trainer.
Daatje and I have run the full gamut of emotions during her training process.
I was proud of him after he got through the muck and hopped over the stream. He was obviously quite pleased with himself, too…that he figured out how NOT to get smacked. Lesson learned, either way.