I've been taking reining lessons. They're a lot of fun, and a challenge. And sometimes, eye-openingly humbling.
Don't get me wrong: I know I'm not the best rider in the world. But I have a good seat, and I don't usually let stuff like a big spook or getting bucked off bother me. I don't worry about these things, and they don't happen that often. Of course, I don't ride raging lunatic horses anymore either - young and stupid with a surety of my immortality went a long way when I was young. Now I'm only sometimes stupid, but bright enough to realize I can die doing some of the stuff I do, if I'm not careful. Or not... glass half full stupid or glass half empty stupid? I'm not sure.
In reining competition, the horses and riders follow a set pattern in each class, as defined for that class. The patterns all include specific maneuvers: circles (fast canter and slow canter), spins, roll-backs, run-downs and sliding stops. Circles are a piece of cake. Fast canter, slow canter, stop, back up: all well within my comfort zone, though not always done perfectly or even that well - I can be a bit of a spazz at times. Spins are fun - dizzying, but fun. But run-downs... that's where the humbling part comes in.
To practice run-downs to sliding stops, we canter a rectangle - going down the long side of the indoor about 15 feet from the wall, continue at the canter on the short side, and canter back up about 15 feet from the other wall.
The horses know that there's a sliding stop coming along on the pass up the other long side, and tend to anticipate... so sometimes the trainer has me "make him (or her) wait" and do another square. "Make him/her wait" is also expected for at least the first third of the long side, before dropping your hand and letting them go, to get up speed before you lean back, push your legs forward and say "whoa!", hopefully into a really nice slide. That's ideally, anyway.
So...
There are two reining lesson horses at Crystal: Sonny and Margie. Margie is also half-leased by one of the kids who works part time there. They're both great horses. Sonny is a stocky chestnut who looks absolutely marvelous in all my turquoise-colored tack. Margie is a pretty bay mare with a cute little head and a much finer build than Sonny's, but still most definitely a Quarter Horse.
Sonny and I get along really well. I like him, he seems to like me, and from the start I've felt comfortable on him. Even though it took me a bit of time to figure out how to ride (and sit) a run-down to a sliding stop, and I'm still working on being able to do it consistently, I have no worries when I'm riding him.
Margie and I took a bit to warm up to each other, but we're getting there. She's a mare, and a lot more opinionated than Sonny when I'm up on her, but she's a good egg, who knows her job.
The problem: run downs on Margie are like going from 20 to 150MPH in 1 second. I swear there's a G-force factor in play when I stop "making her wait", and let her go. If you've ever seen a dog run full out, that's what it feels like sitting on Margie - I swear, she gets her back legs way out in front of her front legs, digs in, and flies. And though I *know* she stops really well, I all but go into the fetal position.
The first time I rode her, this scared the bejeebus out of me. I went back to Sonny for a couple of lessons, but I really wanted to confront my fear. So I've been riding Margie off and on since.
Last week, and then again yesterday, I rode Margie. It was humbling, both times.
I don't have any trouble with Margie on circles, and we haven't even really worked on spins because I basically have nailed them (or at least I think that's why not)...
Margie really likes to take off as we turn the corner to start the run down.
I'm fine going down the long side away from the front of the arena, we're straight and even-paced. I feel relaxed and do my best to project that. I'm not saying I'm that way all the time, but if not immediately, I get there after a few tries.
But then we turn that corner and start back towards the front. Margie starts to build up a head of steam (I swear I can see it coming out her ears), I hold her back (the "make her wait" part) until we've gone a bit more than a third of the way back, and then I'm supposed to drop my hands, let her go, and when I'm near the front, ask her to stop.
Sometimes she starts to weave and I try to straighten her while also holding her back, and we end up not doing a sliding stop at all because I have my hand in the air and she's going all over the place with her head in the air, getting royally pissed off at me (rightfully so)... so the next few rectangles are just getting straight and controlled, down and back.
When I finally get a controlled turn and run back up the side and I'm a bit more relaxed (because I know this is not Margie's problem, it's mine), Romain tells me to try the slide again... and I start to tense up as soon as we've rounded the corner and the supersonic jets gets engaged again... and I fight myself trying not to curl up into the fetal position when I "let her go", and she takes off. If I do manage to stay uncurled and lean back and ask for the stop, I'm so tense I bounce like a ball on poor Margie's back.
A friend at the barn who's into thoroughbreds commented after watching the girl and Margie do run-downs: "she takes off like she's leaving the starting gate" and obviously my subconscious is yelling really loudly at me that I am NOT a jockey!! OMG!!!
I wonder: when did I become a wimp? I used to be the one who rode *anything*. Buzz would bet his friends six packs of beer that I could stick on Little Dick the Hackney pony and they couldn't, and I always won him the beer. He let me, and only me, ride his favorite horse, Jetty.
I'm not that reckless and brave girl any more.
What I am though, is stubborn. I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and get really mad at myself when I *know* what I'm doing wrong, know what I need to do to not do it so horribly, and know that I really really really want to do it right. On Margie.
So though Sonny can help me learn to do it right, I won't be happy until I can do it right, consistently, on Margie. Because if I can, I can ride a reiner.
Though I'll still need lessons.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Okay, some of them aren't that bad...
Addendum to my previous post: last week I helped out another SE, this one a Brit, who was looking to upgrade a customer from an ancient release to both a later release and a new hosting OS (linux rather than solaris). They wanted to first install their ancient releases to new linux servers, make sure the database was happy, and then do the upgrade.
I resurrected copies of the ancient releases, which I'd initially thought were long gone, casualties of disk clean up. I Gzipped up tar files and passed them along. He thanked me profusely and offered chocolate. I figured he was joking and said "dark, please."
He just swung by my office and gave me two big bars of Cadbury Bournville classic dark chocolate.
Okay, then.
I resurrected copies of the ancient releases, which I'd initially thought were long gone, casualties of disk clean up. I Gzipped up tar files and passed them along. He thanked me profusely and offered chocolate. I figured he was joking and said "dark, please."
He just swung by my office and gave me two big bars of Cadbury Bournville classic dark chocolate.
Okay, then.
Monday, June 16, 2014
In My Less Exciting Life, I'm a Nerd.
This post is completely not horse related. Except in that it gives some idea why I need a horse to be kept sane. Possible identifying company stuff X-d out to protect the innocent. Me, in other words.
As I said, I'm a nerd. Actually, my title is "Build/Release Engineer" but I get to be the keeper of the product installation tools too. The product is fairly complex, runs on Linux and Solaris operating systems, uses an Oracle database, and interacts with bunches of different pieces of hardware.
So though build/release engineers don't typically have much customer interaction, I sometimes have to interact with the people who do. And sometimes I wonder just how they got to be called "Systems Engineers".
So… I got a question from an Systems Engineer, a customer
issue, an executable was not starting up, the error message about a library being 32bit rather than 64bit.
I asked (not unreasonably):
If you have the exact text of
the error, I might be able to find it either in the readmes, cvs logs, or in my
email. There were a few 32 vs 64 bit issues there for a while…
And he replied:
xxxxxxxxx main exiting: Could not
open driver 'oracle' library liboradb-s.so: libclntsh.so.11.1: wrong ELF class:
ELFCLASS32
It looked familiar, but as a work-around I told him to
change the symbolic link for xxxxxxxx to point to the 32 bit version of the
file. That worked, of course.
Since they claimed to have installed a 64 bit Oracle server
and a 32 bit oracle client (we need the 32bit libs for some of our
executables), I thought that perhaps the LD_LIBRARY_PATH needed to be reorganized to point to the 64
bit libs before 32 bit libs. That really didn't make much sense -
well written code will search for the correct one (if it needs 64 bit it will skip over the
32 bit and continue to look), but I have actually seen that be a problem with
Cognos reports. Yeah, Cognos is not a great product. L
But, then I looked at the error message again, and said:
WAIT.
They didn’t install Oracle 64
bit.
I bet that’s it. Their Oracle
server is 32 bit.
At this point, I'm CERTAIN that is the case. But I'm just the build/release engineer.
The SE said no, they have 64 bit server. Ok, then.
This was Friday. He
said he was going home.
So Monday morning he pings me again. They want the 64 bit xxxxxxxxx. He’d changed the LD_LIBRARY_PATH, but it was still failing to start.
I sent this (all one email, though I’m commenting in the
middle):
The only thing I can think of is
that the liboradb-s.so file in /prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib
directory either isn’t there (it should be linked to the “11” version of the
file) or the “11” version is, despite the path saying 64bit, 32 bit.
- Now actually, the file I meant to refer to here was the libclntsh.so.11 one, not liboradb-s.so. I saw my mistake and corrected myself in my next email.
- So, I'd said again that they had 32 bit libraries and executables in the 64 bit path. But since he was so adamant that those files were 64 bit, I also asked again about the LD_LIBRARY_PATH, and gave my reason for it, and then my reason for doubting that was really the problem.
If neither of those are the
case, you can try resetting the LD_LIBRARY_PATH to look for 64 bit first where
the oracle lib paths are concerned, but I don’t think that’s the problem… where
we saw that issue was with Cognos 64 bit version (later than 8.1, I think we
introduced it in 8.4) – for some reason once it found a library file, it would
attempt to use it even though it was the wrong type (the 32 bit version was
found, the 64 bit version existed, but it stopped looking after finding the 32
bit version, then barfed). Changing the order in LD_LIBRARY_PATH so that all 64
bit libraries would resolve first fixed that problem.
Did I ask you to do ldd on the
two files (or did you do it, and I’ve forgotten)?
IOW, after sourcing xxxxxxx.sh
ldd xxxxxxxxx-32
ldd xxxxxxxxx-64
He came back with:
Another attempt failed:
-bash-4.1$ xxxxxx.sh start
Checking database...
Starting XXXXXXX...
ERROR - The executable
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxx failed to start.
-bash-4.1$ xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxx main exiting: Could
not open driver 'oracle' library liboradb-s.so: libclntsh.so.11.1: wrong ELF
class: ELFCLASS32
Sigh.
So I sent him this:
If you do “file
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxxx-64” and “file
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11”, it’s definitely
x86_64, right, both cases?
For mine:
xxxx:~$ file $XXXXXXX/bin/xxxxxxxx-64
xxxx:~$ file $XXXXXXX/bin/xxxxxxxx-64
/home/xxxx/BX/bin/xxxxxxx-64:
ELF 64-bit LSB executable, AMD x86-64, version 1 (SYSV), for GNU/Linux 2.6.9,
dynamically linked (uses shared libs), not stripped
xxxx:~$ file
/home/oracle/app/oracle/product/11.2.0/dbhome_1/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1
/home/oracle/app/oracle/product/11.2.0/dbhome_1/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1:
ELF 64-bit LSB shared object, AMD x86-64, version 1 (SYSV), not stripped
If so, then I have no idea
what’s going on. That’s the only thing left that I haven’t seen to be proved to
be the case.
Yes, I’m getting a bit tired of asking about the library really,
really, being 64 bit…
So I get back:
Looks like:
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so:
symbolic link to
`/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1'
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/32bit/lib/libclntsh.so
libclntsh.so: symbolic link to
`/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/32bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1'
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxxxx
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxxx:
symbolic link to `xxxxxxxx-64'
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxxx-64
/prod/xxxx/bin/xxxxxxx-64: ELF
64-bit LSB executable, x86-64, version 1 (SYSV), dynamically linked (uses
shared libs), for GNU/Linux 2.4.0, not stripped
And I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised at this point that I had to reply:
Follow the symlink and “file”
it, please?
And eureka! He replies:
Found it:
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/32bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/32bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1:
ELF 32-bit LSB shared object, Intel 80386, version 1 (SYSV), dynamically
linked, not stripped
-bash-4.1$ file
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1
/prod/oracle/product/11.2.0.3/db_1/64bit/lib/libclntsh.so.11.1:
ELF 32-bit LSB shared object, Intel 80386, version 1 (SYSV), dynamically
linked, not stripped
Client install bad?
Um. No. Not the client… But yes, THE 64BIT INSTALL ISN’T IN
FACT, 64BIT BUT IS 32 BIT.
Gah.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Some photos to go along with the previous post
Actually taken today, but it's basically the same.
The back ring, heading towards the gate.
The path through two turnouts
Along the path, heading to the gate
Tico's ears aren't really that large...
The gate. The chain is pretty large.
The back field, along the power lines
Heading towards the log pile and berm
Near the blockade.
Approaching the blockade.
Looking at the berm.
Another look at the berm. We follow the tire tracks, up and around.
The tiny brook. You can see the street from here.
The dirt road through the swamp.
The swamp. Lots of ferns, downed logs, water.
More of the swamp.
Looking ahead to the clearing.
The path along the stone wall.
The place we cross over.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
A Perfect Riding Day
Last Sunday: a lovely day at Crystal Farm - not too hot; breezy, sunny: wonderful. Tico and I went out back to the off-property fields, an easy hack with obstacles both expected and not so much.
I like to bring him to a spot where there's a small hill - really more a berm, about 3 to 4 feet high, 3 feet wide, covered in scrub brush and tall grass.
People have tried to keep the ATVers out of the area by dropping logs by the berm, so that it's become a bit of a "trail obstacle", a little thing to challenge him with.
At this "challenge", we weave around the logs and branches, go up the berm, turn a bit to the right, go down the other side turning left, around a fence post, through more scrub brush to a tiny brook, and cross the brook. By this time we're close to the street and if life were perfect the trails on the other side of the street by the power lines would beckon.
Unfortunately, they've been so torn up by the aforementioned ATVs that they are impassible: it's quite wet at the very beginning, basically swamp, and the 4 wheelers have created mud troughs on the paths which were originally relatively dry. They are now horse swallowing miasmas which conceal god knows what kind of detritus: nasty broken bottles, rusty metal shards, half-rotted splintered wood, all have been seen.
As I had headed out, going down the path just past the back outdoor ring towards the gate, I heard the unmistakable sound of off-road something, be it 2, 3, or 4 wheel, so I knew they were back. Tico heard too, and though not on high alert, he was definitely noticing.
The way this is configured: the path goes down between two fence lines, and at the end of the path, perpendicular to the fences, is a metal round pen gate, closed with a very heavy chain.
Since we could hear but not see the ATV, I contemplated not doing another of our "challenges": opening and closing the gate mounted.
Tico knows the drill: we sidepass over towards the gate, with him hanging his head over the fence so I can reach the chain. I then lean way over, unhook the chain (it's quite noisy, another little desensitizing thing) and drop it. The gate starts to swing a bit open, I sit back up, Tico pushes it with his nose (I can't get him to not do that) and we pass through.
Once through, we go back towards the swinging gate, and I try to grab it while Tico tries to "help" by pushing it. When it's close to the fence post, we sidle up next to it again with his nose over the fence, I lean way over again, wrestle with the chain, and loop it back in.
Time to admit something I don't often acknowledge: being an adult means I know I'm mortal. And I know those periods where I'm bending down around the side of my horse grasping a large, nosiy chain and trying to wrestle it out of, and then back in to, a hooked piece of metal, make me vulnerable. I'm off-balance, Tico could spook, my foot could get caught in the gate, the gate is very hard, the fence posts are very hard, and I've been known to not let go of things when things turn sideways. So those "challenges" aren't always 100% Tico-challenges.
I sucked it up, the ATV didn't suddenly appear out of the mist (not surprising, since there was no mist - did I just use hyperbole?) and we got through just fine, thank you very much.
I couldn't hear the ATV any more - I figured it had crossed the street to further wreak destruction on the trail by the power lines.
We turned right, and ambled down the big field - where the power lines continue, by the way - towards the berm (you knew I'd get back to that, right?)
Just before the berm is an area of trampled down and scattered broken branches, bits of wood and bark, all remnants of sawn trees, now moved to the side to rot and provide habitat for wasps and other things I don't intend to identify, ever. I've seen a coyote in that field, maybe it lives in there. I have no idea.
Tico picked his way among the broken and dead bits of branches and bark, ears up but relaxed. I tensed up a bit as we were about to climb the little berm: the grass there is longer and he would often make a grab for a bite when that kind of opportunity waved itself under his nose. He was a star, though: up the berm, a couple of little tippy-toe strides to line up with the path going back down, then marched right down, no "I'm STARVING!" grabby mouth.
I could see from the dirt in the path - newly gouged, darker - that an ATV had been through there - so much for the blockade. We continued along the short distance past the remnants of the fencepost along to the brook. It's only about 2 feet wide, and is actually fed by a swampy pool off to the right.
In the past, Tico has done that "I don't want to get my tootsies wet" dance that all horses seem to have in them. I learned that if I let him put his nose in it (whether it be clear or bracken) he'll cross it. I usually have to give his head a bit of a yank to keep him from sampling it first, but we cross. There were times I thought he was bluffing, but no - he'll drink it, no matter how disgusting. He's eaten mud he hasn't wanted to cross - and then put his feet into it. I don't know why things become safe to walk in or on if he's eaten or drunk them, but there you go.
He walked through after a short hesitation to smell the water, then we went along to the road and turned around. And I realized I'd been hearing an ATV behind me for a bit.
Tico and I were on the other side of the brook when the kid came tearing up the berm. I held my hand up and yelled "Hey!", hoping he didn't have earphones on and might actually be looking where he was going.
As ATVs go, this was one was pretty small - kind of a Mini-Cooper version of an ATV.The kid was young, and all decked out in colorful leathers and helmet with a reflecting visor. He was also apparently a bit intimidated by a tattooed woman glaring at him from horseback: he saw us (thankfully), stopped, and backed the ATV off to the side so we could pass.
I stopped glaring (I think), smiled (if I was still glaring it was probably not a reassuring smile), said thank you, and waved. Tico, who was himself probably rolling his eyes and looking a bit deranged, calmly crossed the brook again, we passed the mini-ATV, and continued over the berm to the side of the field under the power lines.
From there, I thought I'd get past some of the bumpier sections of what is almost a path which parallel the lines, and ask for a canter.
We have occasionally had issues on that front - I want to go straight, Tico tries to veer to the left back towards the gate and the barn. We have had some knock down drag-outs about it, him trying to take off, me pulling back, him spinning, side-passing and throwing "Tico bucks" (more like see-saw hopping, but getting his point across, the point being he's a spoiled little twit having a hissy fit)
The training he got last summer, along with an occasional tune-up and my working on my consistency with him, meant that our canter was quite nice, controlled, and he only slightly veered towards the gate (which was corrected). So far, pretty happy with the little booger.
I pulled him up just past the small overgrown stone wall that's perpendicular to the power lines, and we continued on towards the dirt road that veers to the right, into the woods at a calm walk.
The path as it enters the woods and we go from sunlight to shade has always been one of those places where he thinks boogeymen are lurking. Not this day, though - calm, attentive but not high-headed and white-eyed. His stock was continuing to rise.
I was checking out the flora - we were basically on a path that bisects the swamp, and there was skunk weed, fiddleheads, and other green, brown and yellowish things which I couldn't name if you put a gun to my head. There were moss-covered downed logs, scrubby trees, weeds, bushes... and a turkey, who stepped out right in front of us.
Tico is convinced that any turkey is an attack Ninja turkey. I'd been looking down and to the side, so my first hint that all things were not well in Ticoland was our screeching halt. Feet splayed, he was suddenly much shorter, then much bigger with his head in the air and his eyes bugging out.
The turkey wasn't impressed. He stood there looking at us for about twenty seconds, ruffled his feathers a bit, and disappeared back into the swamp.
I could almost hear the wheels spinning in Tico's little brain: oh, hell NO, I am NOT going forward so that that thing can come leaping out and attack me! Did you see how BIG that was?
So I sat on him and waited. He did make a couple of attempts to retreat, which were rebuffed. When he finally lowered his head and sighed, I told him to move forward.
Though he was clearly not happy about it, we didn't side-pass into the other side of the swamp, leap forward, or take off - even when the turkey, just as we passed by, stood up on a log and spread his wings, then tumbled off into the water (I'm not sure what that was about...)
As we left the swamp/woods path and entered the next clearing, Tico was already starting to relax again. We walked calmly up the slight hill paralleling yet another stone wall on our right, both of us looking around but with no alarm.
At the top of the hill, there's a small break in the stone wall where there are mostly flat stones which we can scramble over. Past that is a path into the woods. We scrambled over and continued on.
Again, Tico was being a really good, calm boy. This is New England, so any path in the woods comes with roots and stones jutting up and partially or completely covered in fallen leaves and or pine needles. Tico picked his way carefully and responded well to my leg when I moved him over so that I could avoid being whacked by the overhanging branches.
We were nearly to our turn-around point (a "private property" sign) when he suddenly got up on his tiptoes again. I made him continue on until I decided we were going to turn, him getting a bit more agitated, his attention off to the left.
As we turned, I saw what had caught his eye: what looked like two dogs (I'm pretty sure they were dogs: too much white on their bodies to be anything wild), in stealth mode, leaping through the woods about 30 feet away, enjoying themselves. They were clearly minding their own business, but having had a stealth dog scare the bejeebus out of a horse I was riding and getting bucked off (to land in the only bit of water in about a mile, a man-made pond next to where I'd been letting my mare graze), I agreed with Tico about the need to be alert. We walked out of the woods, but he was employing his power walk.
After scrambling over the rocks back to the clearing, he breathed a sigh and relaxed. I took a bit longer to decide the dogs weren't interested, myself.
Back down the hill, through the swamp road (he looked over where the turkey had last been seen - not gonna lie, so did I) without a hitch, and we continued our big circle over towards the construction company and its piles of stones and dirt, then across behind it, over to the front field which parallels the turnouts and where we occasionally breeze an oval on the grass.
As we came around a few of the bits of construction detritus to enter the field, Tico suddenly did a 360 (who says this old cowhorse can't spin?)
Now I would have expected a 180, if he was going to do a turn... but maybe I've impressed upon him enough times that racing back to the barn when the sky is falling and boogeymen are raining down is just not going to happen, and he, mid-spin, decided that he needed to see the scary thing after all. I'm not sure. Whatever the reason, we ended up facing in the same direction, and I was still sitting on him (yeah!)
But there was definitely something ahead that was just NOT the one.
All I could see was trees. Yeah, the wind was making them rustle. It's not like rustling trees are an oddity, though. So I laughed at him, and urged him forward. We got a few more steps before he did the feet splaying drop and tippy toes thing again. Still nothing to be seen but trees.
I had my suspicions, though: on the other side of those trees, a bit further up and on the other side of yet another stone wall, occasionally, there have been... sheep. And once or twice... a LLAMA guarding them.
I let him stop and sit a bit, cogitate. But after he tried to grab a bit of grass, I figured he'd gotten over it enough to move forward. I also moved him a bit to the left, away from the suspicious trees and wall, as well - I didn't really need to make a point, I just wanted him moving forward.
And I'd been right: about 20 steps further, I was able to spot some little grey bodies through the trees - one or two of them staring back at us. There were quite a few sheep, but I didn't see a llama. One could have been there, I suppose - I was looking through leafy branches, after all - but I didn't think so.
Moving over a bit had been enough for Tico to relax - well, not completely, he still was throwing stink eyes over to our right - but he moved along with no further histrionics. We continued our circuit, and then headed back to the gate.
Opening and closing the gate was ho-hum, the adventure was over, and only the untacking, carrots and Kashi bars, tail washing (he wasn't thrilled - the water being cold - but he got over it), and being brought out for some hand grazing was left.
It was a good day.
I like to bring him to a spot where there's a small hill - really more a berm, about 3 to 4 feet high, 3 feet wide, covered in scrub brush and tall grass.
People have tried to keep the ATVers out of the area by dropping logs by the berm, so that it's become a bit of a "trail obstacle", a little thing to challenge him with.
At this "challenge", we weave around the logs and branches, go up the berm, turn a bit to the right, go down the other side turning left, around a fence post, through more scrub brush to a tiny brook, and cross the brook. By this time we're close to the street and if life were perfect the trails on the other side of the street by the power lines would beckon.
Unfortunately, they've been so torn up by the aforementioned ATVs that they are impassible: it's quite wet at the very beginning, basically swamp, and the 4 wheelers have created mud troughs on the paths which were originally relatively dry. They are now horse swallowing miasmas which conceal god knows what kind of detritus: nasty broken bottles, rusty metal shards, half-rotted splintered wood, all have been seen.
As I had headed out, going down the path just past the back outdoor ring towards the gate, I heard the unmistakable sound of off-road something, be it 2, 3, or 4 wheel, so I knew they were back. Tico heard too, and though not on high alert, he was definitely noticing.
The way this is configured: the path goes down between two fence lines, and at the end of the path, perpendicular to the fences, is a metal round pen gate, closed with a very heavy chain.
Since we could hear but not see the ATV, I contemplated not doing another of our "challenges": opening and closing the gate mounted.
Tico knows the drill: we sidepass over towards the gate, with him hanging his head over the fence so I can reach the chain. I then lean way over, unhook the chain (it's quite noisy, another little desensitizing thing) and drop it. The gate starts to swing a bit open, I sit back up, Tico pushes it with his nose (I can't get him to not do that) and we pass through.
Once through, we go back towards the swinging gate, and I try to grab it while Tico tries to "help" by pushing it. When it's close to the fence post, we sidle up next to it again with his nose over the fence, I lean way over again, wrestle with the chain, and loop it back in.
Time to admit something I don't often acknowledge: being an adult means I know I'm mortal. And I know those periods where I'm bending down around the side of my horse grasping a large, nosiy chain and trying to wrestle it out of, and then back in to, a hooked piece of metal, make me vulnerable. I'm off-balance, Tico could spook, my foot could get caught in the gate, the gate is very hard, the fence posts are very hard, and I've been known to not let go of things when things turn sideways. So those "challenges" aren't always 100% Tico-challenges.
I sucked it up, the ATV didn't suddenly appear out of the mist (not surprising, since there was no mist - did I just use hyperbole?) and we got through just fine, thank you very much.
I couldn't hear the ATV any more - I figured it had crossed the street to further wreak destruction on the trail by the power lines.
We turned right, and ambled down the big field - where the power lines continue, by the way - towards the berm (you knew I'd get back to that, right?)
Just before the berm is an area of trampled down and scattered broken branches, bits of wood and bark, all remnants of sawn trees, now moved to the side to rot and provide habitat for wasps and other things I don't intend to identify, ever. I've seen a coyote in that field, maybe it lives in there. I have no idea.
Tico picked his way among the broken and dead bits of branches and bark, ears up but relaxed. I tensed up a bit as we were about to climb the little berm: the grass there is longer and he would often make a grab for a bite when that kind of opportunity waved itself under his nose. He was a star, though: up the berm, a couple of little tippy-toe strides to line up with the path going back down, then marched right down, no "I'm STARVING!" grabby mouth.
I could see from the dirt in the path - newly gouged, darker - that an ATV had been through there - so much for the blockade. We continued along the short distance past the remnants of the fencepost along to the brook. It's only about 2 feet wide, and is actually fed by a swampy pool off to the right.
In the past, Tico has done that "I don't want to get my tootsies wet" dance that all horses seem to have in them. I learned that if I let him put his nose in it (whether it be clear or bracken) he'll cross it. I usually have to give his head a bit of a yank to keep him from sampling it first, but we cross. There were times I thought he was bluffing, but no - he'll drink it, no matter how disgusting. He's eaten mud he hasn't wanted to cross - and then put his feet into it. I don't know why things become safe to walk in or on if he's eaten or drunk them, but there you go.
He walked through after a short hesitation to smell the water, then we went along to the road and turned around. And I realized I'd been hearing an ATV behind me for a bit.
Tico and I were on the other side of the brook when the kid came tearing up the berm. I held my hand up and yelled "Hey!", hoping he didn't have earphones on and might actually be looking where he was going.
As ATVs go, this was one was pretty small - kind of a Mini-Cooper version of an ATV.The kid was young, and all decked out in colorful leathers and helmet with a reflecting visor. He was also apparently a bit intimidated by a tattooed woman glaring at him from horseback: he saw us (thankfully), stopped, and backed the ATV off to the side so we could pass.
I stopped glaring (I think), smiled (if I was still glaring it was probably not a reassuring smile), said thank you, and waved. Tico, who was himself probably rolling his eyes and looking a bit deranged, calmly crossed the brook again, we passed the mini-ATV, and continued over the berm to the side of the field under the power lines.
From there, I thought I'd get past some of the bumpier sections of what is almost a path which parallel the lines, and ask for a canter.
We have occasionally had issues on that front - I want to go straight, Tico tries to veer to the left back towards the gate and the barn. We have had some knock down drag-outs about it, him trying to take off, me pulling back, him spinning, side-passing and throwing "Tico bucks" (more like see-saw hopping, but getting his point across, the point being he's a spoiled little twit having a hissy fit)
The training he got last summer, along with an occasional tune-up and my working on my consistency with him, meant that our canter was quite nice, controlled, and he only slightly veered towards the gate (which was corrected). So far, pretty happy with the little booger.
I pulled him up just past the small overgrown stone wall that's perpendicular to the power lines, and we continued on towards the dirt road that veers to the right, into the woods at a calm walk.
The path as it enters the woods and we go from sunlight to shade has always been one of those places where he thinks boogeymen are lurking. Not this day, though - calm, attentive but not high-headed and white-eyed. His stock was continuing to rise.
I was checking out the flora - we were basically on a path that bisects the swamp, and there was skunk weed, fiddleheads, and other green, brown and yellowish things which I couldn't name if you put a gun to my head. There were moss-covered downed logs, scrubby trees, weeds, bushes... and a turkey, who stepped out right in front of us.
Tico is convinced that any turkey is an attack Ninja turkey. I'd been looking down and to the side, so my first hint that all things were not well in Ticoland was our screeching halt. Feet splayed, he was suddenly much shorter, then much bigger with his head in the air and his eyes bugging out.
The turkey wasn't impressed. He stood there looking at us for about twenty seconds, ruffled his feathers a bit, and disappeared back into the swamp.
I could almost hear the wheels spinning in Tico's little brain: oh, hell NO, I am NOT going forward so that that thing can come leaping out and attack me! Did you see how BIG that was?
So I sat on him and waited. He did make a couple of attempts to retreat, which were rebuffed. When he finally lowered his head and sighed, I told him to move forward.
Though he was clearly not happy about it, we didn't side-pass into the other side of the swamp, leap forward, or take off - even when the turkey, just as we passed by, stood up on a log and spread his wings, then tumbled off into the water (I'm not sure what that was about...)
As we left the swamp/woods path and entered the next clearing, Tico was already starting to relax again. We walked calmly up the slight hill paralleling yet another stone wall on our right, both of us looking around but with no alarm.
At the top of the hill, there's a small break in the stone wall where there are mostly flat stones which we can scramble over. Past that is a path into the woods. We scrambled over and continued on.
Again, Tico was being a really good, calm boy. This is New England, so any path in the woods comes with roots and stones jutting up and partially or completely covered in fallen leaves and or pine needles. Tico picked his way carefully and responded well to my leg when I moved him over so that I could avoid being whacked by the overhanging branches.
We were nearly to our turn-around point (a "private property" sign) when he suddenly got up on his tiptoes again. I made him continue on until I decided we were going to turn, him getting a bit more agitated, his attention off to the left.
As we turned, I saw what had caught his eye: what looked like two dogs (I'm pretty sure they were dogs: too much white on their bodies to be anything wild), in stealth mode, leaping through the woods about 30 feet away, enjoying themselves. They were clearly minding their own business, but having had a stealth dog scare the bejeebus out of a horse I was riding and getting bucked off (to land in the only bit of water in about a mile, a man-made pond next to where I'd been letting my mare graze), I agreed with Tico about the need to be alert. We walked out of the woods, but he was employing his power walk.
After scrambling over the rocks back to the clearing, he breathed a sigh and relaxed. I took a bit longer to decide the dogs weren't interested, myself.
Back down the hill, through the swamp road (he looked over where the turkey had last been seen - not gonna lie, so did I) without a hitch, and we continued our big circle over towards the construction company and its piles of stones and dirt, then across behind it, over to the front field which parallels the turnouts and where we occasionally breeze an oval on the grass.
As we came around a few of the bits of construction detritus to enter the field, Tico suddenly did a 360 (who says this old cowhorse can't spin?)
Now I would have expected a 180, if he was going to do a turn... but maybe I've impressed upon him enough times that racing back to the barn when the sky is falling and boogeymen are raining down is just not going to happen, and he, mid-spin, decided that he needed to see the scary thing after all. I'm not sure. Whatever the reason, we ended up facing in the same direction, and I was still sitting on him (yeah!)
But there was definitely something ahead that was just NOT the one.
All I could see was trees. Yeah, the wind was making them rustle. It's not like rustling trees are an oddity, though. So I laughed at him, and urged him forward. We got a few more steps before he did the feet splaying drop and tippy toes thing again. Still nothing to be seen but trees.
I had my suspicions, though: on the other side of those trees, a bit further up and on the other side of yet another stone wall, occasionally, there have been... sheep. And once or twice... a LLAMA guarding them.
I let him stop and sit a bit, cogitate. But after he tried to grab a bit of grass, I figured he'd gotten over it enough to move forward. I also moved him a bit to the left, away from the suspicious trees and wall, as well - I didn't really need to make a point, I just wanted him moving forward.
And I'd been right: about 20 steps further, I was able to spot some little grey bodies through the trees - one or two of them staring back at us. There were quite a few sheep, but I didn't see a llama. One could have been there, I suppose - I was looking through leafy branches, after all - but I didn't think so.
Moving over a bit had been enough for Tico to relax - well, not completely, he still was throwing stink eyes over to our right - but he moved along with no further histrionics. We continued our circuit, and then headed back to the gate.
Opening and closing the gate was ho-hum, the adventure was over, and only the untacking, carrots and Kashi bars, tail washing (he wasn't thrilled - the water being cold - but he got over it), and being brought out for some hand grazing was left.
It was a good day.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Good Friday, Easter Weekend, and Good Rides
I took Tico outside for a couple of hacks Friday (the company I work for was bought out by a French Canadian firm; we get Good Friday off but not Presidents Day :( ), and then yesterday.
We went out to the fields behind the property and just walked around a bit. He was a really good boy this time - a few weeks ago there were monsters and dragons lurking everywhere, and I couldn't get him off his tippy toes. Then last week, there was a dreaded wild turkey walking in the field about 100 yards away from us as we were coming across the field and back towards the barn, which turned him from the slightly up but listening horse to a "channeling my inner arab" head high, tail up, idiot who wouldn't listen at all.
We took a refresher lesson the following day (more for me than him; it's my lack of consistency that allows his lack of discipline).
So, Friday and Saturday I wanted calm, relaxed, and listening; I got it. No grabbing for leaves or using his relaxed head down position to make a grab for grass. We crossed a tiny brook without doing the leapfrog jump - he drank from it first, of course - instead simply walking through. It was nice. :)
Friday was pretty chilly so I went back into the indoor to actually do some trot and canter stuff; yesterday was so beautiful I went to the back ring to enjoy the sun.
It always seems windier in that back ring than closer to the barn, and yesterday was no exception. He sometimes does the "there's a monster!" spook in either of the back corners but yesterday he was a star. The only thing that marred the whole ride was that as we were cantering around (a nice, on the bit canter, not careening around) and I asked him to whoa, he stopped quickly , tripped, and went down onto his knees.
As I've mentioned before (and in the previous post as a matter of fact) Tico is conformationally challenged. He has the dubious honor of possessing what a vet who fluoroscoped his right front fetlock a few months ago referred to as "the bone spur of the year", most likely caused by his crooked front legs, perhaps in conjunction with poor shoeing. Lord knows until I found my current farrier he was still getting that poor shoeing. He has limited flexion in that joint, and his left front isn't much better. So even if he sits on his butt in a reiner stop, those front feet can get in the way when he tries to move them.
To keep him sound, he gets trimmed and shod every 4 weeks. This horse can grow a toe like you read about, even in the winter. Yeah, it can get expensive, but this farrier listened to my vet (the previous one didn't), fixed his chronic lameness by shoeing the foot in front of him, and he's been sound ever since. At first with a 5 week trim cycle, but lately we've been doing 4. He's due to be done the 24th. So, his toes were long, and he also still had the borium studs in his shoes.
I jumped off him, took off his SMB boots, checked his legs and joints, put the boots back on, walked him around. He looked a bit embarrassed, but not lame. I got back on him and we walked back to the barn, schmoozed around, then walked back to the ring with another rider. He hadn't taken an off step, so I asked for a trot. No limp. Yay! I asked for another canter. Again, no limp. I rode him about 10 minutes more, working him in both directions.
We went back to the barn, I got off, took off the boots and bell boots again, checked all his joints (no heat, no swelling) groomed him, picked his feet, and gave him Kashi bars and carrots. He deserved them - what a sweet boy he was!
After I told her about what happened, I said to one of the other boarders "It's really nice to have such a tough little horse". It really is.
It was such a nice day, I didn't want to just leave after my ride. I spent some time cleaning tack outside in the glorious sun, and spent more time with a bunch of really great people - the barn owner, manager, and fellow boarders. We make each other laugh, we help each other out, and we share in each others pain when bad things happen. I'm really happy I'm boarding at Crystal Farm.
An hour or so later, the vet came to do the second round of spring shots. Tico was of course an angel. :) He got the rest of the bag of carrots before I headed on home.
The barn is closed for Easter, so no riding today. A shame, it's a gorgeous day today, too. Yay, Spring may finally be here!
We went out to the fields behind the property and just walked around a bit. He was a really good boy this time - a few weeks ago there were monsters and dragons lurking everywhere, and I couldn't get him off his tippy toes. Then last week, there was a dreaded wild turkey walking in the field about 100 yards away from us as we were coming across the field and back towards the barn, which turned him from the slightly up but listening horse to a "channeling my inner arab" head high, tail up, idiot who wouldn't listen at all.
We took a refresher lesson the following day (more for me than him; it's my lack of consistency that allows his lack of discipline).
So, Friday and Saturday I wanted calm, relaxed, and listening; I got it. No grabbing for leaves or using his relaxed head down position to make a grab for grass. We crossed a tiny brook without doing the leapfrog jump - he drank from it first, of course - instead simply walking through. It was nice. :)
Friday was pretty chilly so I went back into the indoor to actually do some trot and canter stuff; yesterday was so beautiful I went to the back ring to enjoy the sun.
It always seems windier in that back ring than closer to the barn, and yesterday was no exception. He sometimes does the "there's a monster!" spook in either of the back corners but yesterday he was a star. The only thing that marred the whole ride was that as we were cantering around (a nice, on the bit canter, not careening around) and I asked him to whoa, he stopped quickly , tripped, and went down onto his knees.
As I've mentioned before (and in the previous post as a matter of fact) Tico is conformationally challenged. He has the dubious honor of possessing what a vet who fluoroscoped his right front fetlock a few months ago referred to as "the bone spur of the year", most likely caused by his crooked front legs, perhaps in conjunction with poor shoeing. Lord knows until I found my current farrier he was still getting that poor shoeing. He has limited flexion in that joint, and his left front isn't much better. So even if he sits on his butt in a reiner stop, those front feet can get in the way when he tries to move them.
To keep him sound, he gets trimmed and shod every 4 weeks. This horse can grow a toe like you read about, even in the winter. Yeah, it can get expensive, but this farrier listened to my vet (the previous one didn't), fixed his chronic lameness by shoeing the foot in front of him, and he's been sound ever since. At first with a 5 week trim cycle, but lately we've been doing 4. He's due to be done the 24th. So, his toes were long, and he also still had the borium studs in his shoes.
I jumped off him, took off his SMB boots, checked his legs and joints, put the boots back on, walked him around. He looked a bit embarrassed, but not lame. I got back on him and we walked back to the barn, schmoozed around, then walked back to the ring with another rider. He hadn't taken an off step, so I asked for a trot. No limp. Yay! I asked for another canter. Again, no limp. I rode him about 10 minutes more, working him in both directions.
We went back to the barn, I got off, took off the boots and bell boots again, checked all his joints (no heat, no swelling) groomed him, picked his feet, and gave him Kashi bars and carrots. He deserved them - what a sweet boy he was!
After I told her about what happened, I said to one of the other boarders "It's really nice to have such a tough little horse". It really is.
It was such a nice day, I didn't want to just leave after my ride. I spent some time cleaning tack outside in the glorious sun, and spent more time with a bunch of really great people - the barn owner, manager, and fellow boarders. We make each other laugh, we help each other out, and we share in each others pain when bad things happen. I'm really happy I'm boarding at Crystal Farm.
An hour or so later, the vet came to do the second round of spring shots. Tico was of course an angel. :) He got the rest of the bag of carrots before I headed on home.
The barn is closed for Easter, so no riding today. A shame, it's a gorgeous day today, too. Yay, Spring may finally be here!
Monday, February 17, 2014
Tico is a Veterinary Marvel
Tico has crooked legs.
There's no getting around it: he's been known to stand with his feet pointing in opposite directions.
Granted, this is a bit exaggerated: there was grass to his right, and hay to his left, and he didn't know which was the most likely direction to result in him EATING, but this gives you an idea.
He also has a bone spur in his right front, that I've known about since 2007, when I had his front feet xrayed. He'd been lame a lot, and the blacksmith wasn't trimming him the way the vet was telling him needed to be done in order to keep the crooked legs happy. He kept trying to "fix" the crookedness with a straight trim, and it wasn't working. I was getting really frustrated with the way things were, and just wanted to get a look at what we were dealing with.
There's no getting around it: he's been known to stand with his feet pointing in opposite directions.
Granted, this is a bit exaggerated: there was grass to his right, and hay to his left, and he didn't know which was the most likely direction to result in him EATING, but this gives you an idea.
He also has a bone spur in his right front, that I've known about since 2007, when I had his front feet xrayed. He'd been lame a lot, and the blacksmith wasn't trimming him the way the vet was telling him needed to be done in order to keep the crooked legs happy. He kept trying to "fix" the crookedness with a straight trim, and it wasn't working. I was getting really frustrated with the way things were, and just wanted to get a look at what we were dealing with.
See the bump in front of the ball joint? That shouldn't be there. I thought I'd have a 9 year old pasture pet, looking at this.
But I changed farriers and got one who listened to my vet. The new farrier trimmed and shod Tico so that there was no undue stress on his joints, basically allowing the crookedness to remain since that's just the way his legs went. He started to go sound. He had limited flexibility in that joint, but it didn't seem to bother him.
But of course the underlying problem of a crooked leg was still there, and the bone spur wasn't going away. When his toes grew long, he'd get a bit gimpy. So I started having him trimmed more often, which helps.
Fast forward to 2014. It had been a long time since I'd had any images of his fetlock done. It was winter, and the blacksmith was trying to space out the trims a bit more, since conventional wisdom says horses don't grow as much foot when they're not out on green grass... but I guess Tico is an exception to that rule. He was growing his toes as fast as ever - the blacksmith would schedule him for 6 weeks, but at 4 weeks he'd be looking long, and I'd be calling for a reschedule.
Meanwhile, there's a new performance horse trainer resident at the barn, who likes to use a vet from Kentucky who's a leg and joint expert. He travels with a portable fluoroscope, xray machine, and other arcane veterinary diagnostic equipment. The trainer was going to be getting him up to look at and possibly do injections on some of the reining horses. I added Tico to the list of horses for him to look at - I was thinking that Tico might need another injection in his fetlock (I've had it done before, as well as his hocks, stifles, and hip joint, though not recently).
The vet took a look at a bunch of the reining horses first, and then we brought out Tico. The trainer and I mentioned his need for a reduced trimming schedule and then the vet picked Tico's foot up.
"Well, dang - I'm going to scope this for free - I gotta see what this looks like!"
We brought Tico into the area where he had all the equipment set up, and he ran the fluoroscope over Tico's fetlock. And swore.
The image was pretty amazing: that bone spur was now quite a bit larger - which certainly explains the lack of flexibility (around 20%, according to this vet - which was why he wanted to look at it). I'd thought the joint was fusing - and I think that was a possibility before he scoped it - but the various joint capsules looked pretty good - the cartilage was still there, and there was pretty good spacing (though it was less even looking back to front, due to the crookedness of the foot from fetlock to hoof).
The vet said "That's got to be the bone spur of the year for me!" which given that he specializes in joint issues is a little disturbing. The trainer pointed out that the year just started, but the vet said he didn't expect to see something like that again, and certainly hoped not. Poor Tico.
On the plus side: he saw no reason to inject Tico, since the joint walls and capsules really didn't need it and you can only do those injections so many times before they don't really help. He suggested using Previcox and gave me a bottle of it to put him on - and since it's a COX-2 inhibitor it should help with any other arthritic aches and pains a 16 year old horse is likely to experience. I'd been giving Tico a bit of bute on weekends when I used him, but we can likely take him off that if the Previcox helps, and it won't do stomach damage.
Bone spur of the year! I wonder if they give awards for that...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)