Back when I first started leasing Little Bit of Beau, seven years ago, my mind was singularly focused on everything equine. I bought tack (even though the stable had more than enough); I went to horse-related events; I read books; I made plans. Bit and his training were never far from my thoughts. A few years into the lease, I was training him, and getting results. Indeed, several people at the stable remarked on his progress. Together, we made quite a team.
But then the hubs and I adopted the large mutt who’s almost as big as my car, and he requires lots of exercise. And the weather was often at odds with my training plans. And I had other commitments. And, and, and. The biggest ‘and’ of all was that I bought the aforementioned car, and the hubs was so annoyed by that that he insisted I make the bulk of the monthly payments. That necessitated going from a half-lease to a quarter-lease, giving me no more than two days a week with which to work with Bit. Eventually, it seemed as though everything got in the way of spending time with my horse.
After a winter in which I rarely saw Bit, let alone rode him or did any groundwork, there came one of those almost-spring days when the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the day seems full of possibilities. I went to the stable and saddled up my horse for a ride. When I brought him round to the mounting block, though, I was soon reminded of how long it had been since we’d worked together, and how much work still needed to be done. Bit never was one for minding his mounting block manners. Either he was refusing to stand still, intentionally standing at the sort of angle that made mounting safely impossible, or bucking once I’d landed in the saddle. Clearly, there was still much to be done, and given that my grieving heart (see last month’s column for the explanation) still needed distractions, I decided to redouble my training efforts and get this mounting business dealt with once and for all.
There are many folks in the horse world – I would imagine the vast majority of folks in the horse world – who are vehemently opposed to giving your horse treats as training aides. At Bit’s stable, a woman named Sally, who has done a considerable amount of training with various experts, is the one who’s vehemently opposed to such things. Actually, I think she’s opposed to just about anything that hasn’t been taught by one of her experts. And that’s fine. If you don’t believe in using treats as training aids, then by all means, don’t do it. Just don’t lecture me, alright?
Because, as it turns out, Bit is highly motivated by treats. Treats are how I got him to cross that terrifyingly huge gully, which was, in reality, a small ditch about twelve inches across. It’s how I get him into the trailer when we work on loading. And it’s how I train at the mounting block. So I cut up a carrot into bite-sized pieces, and put them in my coat pocket. Every time Bit did the thing correctly – and I carved up the task into manageable pieces – I would walk him away from the block and give him a bite of carrot. Then I’d walk him back to the block, and add another step to the training.
In this fashion, we went from merely standing still in the right place, to standing still while I pushed and pulled at his saddle, to standing still when I put my foot in the stirrup. Every time he did each one of those tasks correctly, I walked him away from the block and gave him another bite of carrot. Given that Bit’s a smart horse, he caught on pretty quickly. The last task, of course, was to remain standing in place while I mounted. Sounds easy enough unless your horse is Bit, and he has a mind of his own, which Bit does. When he did well with the overall task, and hadn’t bucked me off, I immediately dismounted, walked him away, and gave him another bite of carrot. By this time, he not only understood the task clearly, he performed the task correctly. Hallelujah!
But we weren’t done there. My friend Mandy, upon learning that I was teaching Bit about mounting from the off side, commented that I didn’t need to train Bit in such a way for my purposes, which were little more than country hacks. With Bit’s EPM, we were never going to compete; the training has been to make him a better horse, not a competitive horse. But Mandy has competed, and her linear thinking meant that there was no reason to train Bit outside the box because he already knew enough for me to ride well.
“Bit doesn’t know that,” was my reply to her assertion.
Bit has no idea how much or how little training he needs, so why not push the boundaries? Offside training was the obvious next challenge. Over the years, we did all sorts of training: on different surfaces, during different weather conditions, at different times of day. All of those things brought the sort of results that other people noticed, but it had been so long since we trained consistently that Bit was now being a knucklehead, testing the boundaries to see whether I would correct him or not.
You might think that teaching Bit about off-side training isn’t necessary for a horse who does little more than the occasional hack, but you’d be wrong. It was during trail rides that the training proved itself necessary: Bit always refused to cross bridges while I was in the saddle. He didn’t want to cross them with me walking beside him, either, but after a lot of prodding, and the occasional apple treat, he would. Interestingly, he had no compunction about crossing bridges on the way home; it was only on the outbound journey that he refused.
What ended up happening was that I would have to dismount and lead him across the bridge. That left me with the task of mounting again without a block. I’m not nearly so young or nimble as I once was, so the task required me to get creative about remounting. Using the only thing available – the railing on the bridge – I would position Bit parallel to the rail so that he faced away from the dreaded bridge. I would then stand on the rail, and, with only a small degree of difficulty, I’d manage to mount from his off side. To my considerable surprise, Bit would act like we did this sort of thing all the time. And that’s why you do offside training! Most importantly of all, though, is to train consistently, a thing Bit and I hadn’t done in far too long. So it’s time to redouble my efforts, and, with spring in the air, the timing for it is perfect. I’ve spent far too long doing other things. It’s time to get back in the saddle!
Another thought that occurred to me: you never know how much time you actually have with your animals, so I urge you to make the most of it. When Bit and I started together, he was 18. He’s now 25, an age where I have to give serious thought to how much longer he’ll be able-bodied. So don’t wait for tomorrow, make the most of today instead! See you on the trail!
