Aero’s Diary

Sunday was seriously, seriously cold and even more seriously windy!  We wimped out on our hacking plans and gave the horses a day off – nobody would have enjoyed it, we were chilled enough on Saturday and temperatures were down at least another 6C on Sunday.  Brrrrr.

The Boys in their shelter with Winter’s first snow on the ground

So on Monday, I was back on my own with no hacking companion.  I felt Flurry needed some arena time, anyway, he was a little bit footsore from time to time on Saturday’s hack, and when I looked at his feet on Monday I noticed how much his frogs have beefed up – they’re all slightly proud of his sole, now, which might explain some of his tenderness.

I rode Flurry first – an average warm-up, followed by work on leg-yielding which really helped engage his hocks and produced some nice light trot work afterwards.  His canter wasn’t bad, either, and we played with direct transitions.  Walk/canter was good and he made a fair attempt at canter/walk, so all in all I was very pleased with my little dun fuzzball.

Aero was next, I had my usual plan of lunging followed by a small amount of riding.  Having mulled over my previous rides on him, I decided that I had to try to make myself more comfortable on him, so I used Flurry’s saddle with the thick riser pad and shortened the stirrups a hole.

But to the lunge-ring first, I sent him off in the usual manner, but after a few step of walk, he broke into a trot and from there to an unbalanced canter.  Long story short, we had a similar argument to the last day’s lunging, where I checked him sharply with the lunge line when he ignored my “and… walk” request.  I could see the upset in his eyes, though, and I wasn’t happy doing it, so I unclipped the lunge line, dropped the whip and just sent him off.  I didn’t give him commands, but I kept him moving, using my body to send him forward from time to time.

I was gobsmacked when he went out beside the rail and settled into a rhythmic trot.  After a couple of circuits, I said “and… walk” and he walked.  “And… whoa” and he stopped – it took a few steps, but he did stop.  I rewarded him with a piece of sugar and carried on warming him up loose.  He continued to work well, in both trot and canter, so after a while, I connected up the Chambon and sent him off again.

This time, though, I picked up the lunge-whip.  Well, it was like he’d got an electric shot – head went up, ears pricked, nostrils flared and off he went in canter, a balanced canter admittedly, but not what I was looking for.  I dropped the whip.  He slowed down and the panic went out of his eyes.

Yes.  My horse, who I taught to lunge nine years ago as a three year old, and who has never, to the best of my knowledge, been punished or chased with a whip, is now afraid of the lunge-whip.  I pondered a moment as to why I hadn’t had this issue back in May/June, and then remembered I didn’t actually have a lunge-whip at home, I’d bought this nice shiny blue one in September, shortly before we left Ireland.

Breakthrough #1 : don’t use a lunge-whip

We continued the rest of the lunging session with Aero loose and me using a combination of voice commands and body language to control him.  He worked really well and stretched down long and low on both sides.  I rewarded him a couple of times with sugar cubes and was really pleased with how he was going.

Breakthrough #2 : use bribery and corruption

Last thing to do was sit up on him.  I fiddled around, took off the Chambon, pulled down the stirrups, put on my hat.  I showed him a sugar cube, mounted, and gave it to him once I was settled.  He’s not used to this, because he has always stood quietly to be mounted, but I think he’ll catch on pretty quick!

We walked around the arena a couple of times.  He was calm, settled, attentive.  There were no flies, of course, the sudden drop in temperature has seen to that – I’m sure that helped, too.  I could take a contact and he’d work round and on the bit, through circles and turns.  Ok, I thought, here goes nothing, let’s see if I still feel like a beginner when we trot, and I squeezed him forwards and told him to trot.

Wonder of wonders, I could ride him again!  I never felt unbalanced and he went forward in a nice relaxed trot.  We did a little work, on each rein, it felt decent enough but without eyes on the ground I can’t be too sure.

Breakthrough #3 : Use Flurry’s saddle until I’m fitter and used to Aero again

I quit while I was ahead, then, I guess I rode him for fifteen minutes or so, before I stopped, slipped him another bribe and made a big fuss of him.

I’m starting to feel optimistic about him again!

After Monday’s breakthroughs, I was determined to Not Go In The Arena and give Aero something different to think about.  Once again, I rode Flurry first, and did a very short, half-hour loop around the farm.  He was great… loved every minute of it.

I caught Aero and started grooming him.  I had already decided that I would tack him up (with Flurry’s saddle) and ride/walk/ride, whatever I felt like doing.  If he felt tense, I would lead him for a bit and then hopefully remount.

While I was grooming, though, something startled every single horse on the premises, they all stood stock still, staring into the distance, on high alert.  Aero was similarly panicked, staring into the distance, nostrils flared, heart pounding.

Right, I thought, forget the saddle!  You are not going to ride this horses even if you put it on him!  So I led him around the same loop I had done with Flurry, or rather, we speed-walked around the same loop I had done with Flurry.

Within the first five minutes, we had seen what had caused the sudden panic in all the horses – a couple of kids playing at the far side of the lavender field.  Apart from a brief fit of panic when he spotted them, Aero was very, very good.  Tense, rushing, but less anxious than previously.  And he has a happier, less worried look in his eye.

I’m still optimistic.

A washout.  My poor mother thinks the weather here is just like in Ireland and can’t understand why we’ve relocated 2000km for this.

This was La Toussaint, All Saints Day, a public holiday.  Seeing as the LSH forgot to take the Irish public holiday last Monday, he’s decided to follow French holidays instead, so he was available to hack out with me.

I thought I was going to be in trouble.  As I was leading Aero down to the stable area, the little donkey came striding over to the fence to say hello.  Aero, who has walked past him nearly every day since he got here two and a half weeks ago, nearly lost his life, threw a major wobbly and almost got away from me!  He calmed down, but I did say “I might not ride him…”

Despite that inauspicious start, it was a great hack.  Once again, we stuck to forestry tracks and trails, with a very short stretch on the road at the start and a road crossing about half-way along.  Aero was much more settled, in fact Flurry did the biggest spook of the day when I inadvertently broke a branch behind him with a loud “CRACK.”  We were out for just less than an hour, and it was only during the last ten minutes that I felt Aero getting tense and anxious again.

He knew we were nearly home – was it a little naughtiness/nappiness?
When I untacked him, the saddle had slipped back a little – was his back a little tender?

I’ll use a breast plate next time, but all in all I was really pleased with this ride, I am quite sure he enjoyed himself this time!

I think riding Flurry before Aero is probably a good idea, as it means I’ve warmed up and loosened up before I get on Mr CamelHorse.  I did just about an hour in the arena with Flurry, he was stiff to the right at first but loosened out fairly well.

Then it was Aero’s turn.  He eyed the donkey suspiciously as I walked him past, but didn’t get silly.  Not until we got to the lunging ring, that is.  Little Donkey decided to stand at the top of his field and watch.  He must have looked like a fire-breathing demon from hell to Aero, because as soon as he saw him, the head went up, the tail went up and he was gone, doing the most elevated trot I’ve ever seen him do, punctuating his strides with occasional explosive snorts.

Little Donkey – what we see
Little Donkey – what Aero sees

My plans for sensible stretching work and a short ride went out the window, and the goal for the session became “learn to live with the donkey.”  Unfortunately, Little Donkey kept disappearing.  And then reappearing.  The section of the lunging ring from which Aero could see him became the zone of the demonic-horse-eating-sometimes-invisible-killer-death-donkey-from-hell.  If Little Donkey was there when Aero trotted by, he stared at him in horror and spooked.  If he wasn’t there, he stared at where he might be (if he was invisible) and spooked anyway.

All I could do was laugh at my silly horse and keep asking him to pay attention.

Eventually, he calmed down – a tiny bit.  He stretched his head and neck down and locked his ear on me for a couple of laps and obeyed when I asked him to walk and halt. I scratched his neck, gave him a piece of carrot and headed back towards the stables.

But we had to pass the demonic-horse-eating-sometimes-invisible-killer-death-donkey-from-hell again.  Aero stared at him, eyes bulging, ears sharply pricked.  I led him closer, and fed Little Donkey some hay that had fallen on the ground and then stood there while the two stared at each other.  Eventually, Aero gave a little sigh, which I took as a sign of acceptance, but he still didn’t want to go within less than ten feet of Little Donkey.

That’s another day’s work.

(Thanks to for the free dragon image)

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