Lessons in Trailer Loading
You learn something new every day.
Today I learned that “The best laid plans of mice and men…” derives from a 1785 poem by Robert Burns, “To a Mouse.”
Yesterday I learned about trailer loading. And not loading.
One of the owners at the barn was taking her horse to the chiropractor/massage person and I was tagging along. As it happens, things were running a little late when it was finally time to load the horse. We led her up to the trailer and she marched right along right up to the point where she… didn’t.
It soon become clear that we were not going to make the appointment. We moved the truck and trailer so that it wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and settled down to the day’s new task: teaching the mare that she was, in fact, going to load. With the appointment rescheduled, we had all day to work on this.
Enter Awesome Bystander.
If you have any doubt about the state of humanity, allow me to disperse just a little of it.
Understand: we’re in Texas. It’s 90 degrees and wicked sunny. Awesome Bystander offered to help anyway.
She quickly and fairly established a few rules: mare would stay lined up straight with the trailer and not swing her rump around. Mare would step forward once when asked. Mare would stop when asked. Mare would back when asked.
Everything would go really well until mare was at the trailer (it was a step up); she’d walk right up to the trailer but didn’t want to put a foot in. Awesome Bystander kept lightly asking her to step up by tapping just behind the girth with a dressage stick, and rewarding the smallest positive movements from the mare. Every once in a while they backed away from the trailer, reestablished go/halt/back, and tried again. This allowed her to reposition the mare (who sometimes got too close to the trailer to lift her front legs without banging them against the floor) and to relax the mare (hey, here was a task that she absolutely understood and could do correctly!).
No beating, no punishment, just calm, patient insistence and a reward as soon as the mare thought about stepping on the trailer. Best of all, Awesome Bystander explained what she was doing and why each step of the way and made a few recommendations to the owner as well. And, eventually, the mare loaded. It was pretty much that anti-climactic.
Awesome Bystander then unloaded the mare. She and the owner talked for a few minutes, and she drove off into the sunset the Texas midday sun. The owner is, believe me, planning a suitable thank-you gift for her.
The owner then loaded the mare back up. It took a few minutes, but only a few. We shut the trailer and went for a drive around the property, unloaded the horse, and let her graze for a while. Then I loaded her in the trailer—the key here being that we 1) wanted her to load several times and 2) wanted her to load for different people.
I know the owner intends to work on loading intensively for the next little while to be sure the mare is solid on it. The chiropractor/massage appointment has been rescheduled for later this week and hopefully I’ll still be able to tag along (I’ve never been to one, so it should be fascinating).
I apologize for the lack of funny, but I thought it was beyond awesome that someone would spend an hour in the middle of a Texas summer day and help with a loading issue.
When is it “ok” to buy a green horse?
I am not a fan of green riders–whether they are totally new to horses or are re-riders trying to re-learn what they used to know–buying green horses.
I want to buy a green horse.
I’m a re-rider.
Yes, I know. Green + Green = Black + Blue.
The thing is… (and isn’t there always a “The thing is…”?) I’ve never had a chance to really work with a green horse for an extended period. I’ve had plenty of small training opportunities, and I loved them, but never a greenie. It’s something I always wanted to do.
It’s just the danger of failing what could otherwise be a very nice horse scares me. And I know that’s a very real danger for re-riders, who know more than their bodies can actually do.
Six months ago, what I knew and what I could do weren’t on the same page. They weren’t even in the same book. Or library. Actually, I doubt they were in the same time zone. Right now, I’d like to think I’m back in the same book. It might be a very thick book, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same one. Only this time it has footnotes, as the things I used to know sort of “click” what what I’m doing now.
I’d just like to know what page I need to be on by this time next year so that I can get a green horse and not worry quite so much that it’s a completely inappropriate decision.
Where’s that magic checklist? You know the one: you get one point for each of the following skills that you can do right this moment, and a quarter point for each of the following skills that you used to do, plus five points for every day you would be able to work the green horse, plus ten points for each of those days that would be in lesson situations with an experienced trainer, and if your total points are X or more, you may buy a green horse.
The sad thing is this whole “green or school master” anxiety thing is sooooo misplaced. It’ll be at least a year before I can buy a horse of any color, and who knows where I’ll be, skill wise, this time next year? More importantly, who knows if I’ll even meet my financial goals? I shouldn’t worry about this question until I’m ready to start looking.
For all I know, all I’ll be able to afford will be a My Little Pony.
I wonder if there are any green My Little Ponies?