Tag Archives: young horses

Clinic Reports, Personal Stories, Training Tips and Techniques

Exploring Fundamental Horsemanship with Kip Fladland

July 14, 2021 christinakeim Leave a comment

“A bad day with your horse is still better than a good day doing most anything else”~ Kip Fladland

During a heat wave in early June, I had the opportunity to participate in a three-day clinic focusing on groundwork and foundational horsemanship with Kip Fladland at Linden Woods Farm in Durham, New Hampshire. I first heard about the clinic during the depths of our New England winter and decided it sounded like the perfect opportunity to get my rising 6-year-old Connemara/Thoroughbred cross, DRF Isabela, off farm for an educational outing.

As the owner/trainer of two younger horses (Izzy and her stablemate, the 4-year-old Morgan mare Spring Hollow Or Noir), I have been increasingly interested in understanding how effective groundwork can play a role in giving green horses a solid foundation. I think what most attracts me to these techniques is seeing how horses properly trained through effective groundwork tend to be sensitive yet sane, confident and connected to their handler, yet also respectful of boundaries. The training becomes almost a series of puzzles for the horse to solve, and it engages them as a partner rather than forcing submission.

Note that I said “properly trained”; when it comes to groundwork, most of the time what I actually see are (middle-aged) women with their rope halters waving around their arms ineffectually while their horses proceed to walk all over them. I am sure this behavior is not these owners’ intended outcome, but they as of yet lack the finesse, feel or practice to get the timing right with their body language, with the end result being a confused and slightly feral horse.

JEF Anna Rose and I on day one. Note our elegant homemade flag and her non-matching bell boots. This is definitely the first time I have ever put her in a rope halter.

Lest you think I am being unnecessarily harsh toward middle-aged women and their rope halters, I now resemble that remark. Izzy’s rope halter arrived in the mail only about ten days before the clinic and my “flag” was made from an old dressage whip whose lash had broken off, a faded blue bandana, and a rubber band that came with my asparagus. And when I began trying to use said flag at the clinic to effect certain responses from my horse, while also maintaining particular body positioning, it felt like learning a new dance with the instructions coming in an unfamiliar language. I frequently felt awkward, overconfident, briefly successful, then full of questions.

Since returning home, I have continued to practice the techniques I learned over these three days. I am confident that I have forgotten more than I remember, despite my notes and application in practice. However, I do feel that playing with some of these basic techniques has resulted in positive changes, particularly with my young horses.

DRF Isabela looking a little alert at the start of the clinic on day two.

With the pandemic curtailing our travel plans last year, I looked forward to taking Izzy out in public and start exposing her to the world beyond Cold Moon Farm at this clinic. As it goes with horses, circumstances dictated that I needed to bring my veteran halfbred Connemara, JEF Anna Rose, for day one, but Izzy was able to make the trip for days two and three.

Here are a few of my top take-aways from this experience:

Controlled flag handling is key. Learning to handle the flag effectively is probably one of the most important pieces in terms of communicating your intent and desire to the horse. The flag can be used to direct them forward, turn them and encourage more activity from the hindquarters, but it can also be used to reassure them and give them confidence. The horse has to become what I would call “positively de-sensitized” to the flag, much like they do with dressage wands or longe whips. In other words, your horse should respond to the flag, but not fear it.

On day one, I had no further finished explaining that Anna tended to be rather dull and non-responsive to aids when she reacted to the flag as though I chased her with a flaming arrow. Kip watched as she spun around and around in an effort to get away from the flag’s presence near her haunches with a rather dry comment: “And you say you ride this one?”. I laughed and replied that if Anna were half as electric under saddle as she was toward that flag, we might have gotten a little further in our dressage work. By the end of the session, she tolerated the flag on her, near her and touching her pretty much anywhere.

You will see that Anna fairly quickly acclimated to the flag and became her usual rather non-reactive self.

On day two, a new horse joined our group who was rather impressively reactive to the flag. Leslie Ann McGowan, trainer at Double A Equestrians and a long time student of Kip’s, stepped in to handle the horse. Despite the horse’s honest fear and confusion, Leslie Ann remained calm and simply consistently exposed him to the flag until he started to settle. Throughout the clinic, horses had occasional big responses to the aids, or misunderstandings of the aids, to which Kip replied at one point, “She’s not a teacup and you aren’t gonna break her.” As with humans, sometimes for the horse to learn, they must make mistakes and express frustration and confusion before understanding what is expected of them. As trainers, we can’t be afraid of these messy moments if we hope to help our horse learn.

The flag is held like a tennis racket, and there are four ways to change the flag from one hand to the other, each of which will achieve an increasing degree of engagement in the hocks. When your flag changes hands, the horse usually is also changing direction. One important note is that you should never switch the flag on the ground through the blind spot in front of the horse’s nose. If you do this, the movement can scare them and some horses will strike with their forelegs.

It would appear that here I am attempting to send Izzy forward but have perhaps failed to open the forehand first. Sigh. So much to learn.

The position of your opposite arm combines with the flag to direct the horse. If using the flag to send the horse forward, the hand should be in a leading position. If rubbing the horse with the flag to reassure them, your opposite hand should drop toward your thigh.

Reward the try but also don’t wait for perfection before you ask for more.

Whatever you are asking the horse to do: move away, turn, yield in the poll, etc., it is important to recognize the smallest effort by releasing the pressure as soon as you sense the horse is yielding to what you have asked. One of the most common ways that trainers go wrong is they hold too long, or expect too much, and the horse begins to resist rather than try.

At the same time, if we wait for every piece to be perfect before moving on, we will never get anywhere at all. As with most training, we must accept the try, and a result that is a little bit better than before, rather than nitpick doggedly until the horse is perfect.

A nice scratch on the forehead for a good effort.

One of our first tasks was to ask our horses to step out and away from us, leading with their outside foreleg. Kip called this “opening”; if you are “opening” to the left, the horse’s right fore will step out and the horse tracks left. To initiate the movement, we raised our hands toward the horse’s head and neck and without contact (at first), applied pressure to ask the horse to move. At first, in response, horses may raise their head, step into the handler, back up, move forward, or simply not move at all. The handler must hold her ground and not back up; the horse must learn to move out of the handler’s space. Through all of those little mistakes from the horse (‘do you want me to go this way? Or this way? How about this?) the handler must remain calm, clear in her mind of what she is looking for, and ready to release as soon as the hoof moved out.

Our next task was to open the forehand and then, using the flag, send the horse out on a small circle around us. We were to keep the horse actively moving, slightly bent to the inside through their body and with the legs moving “united”; Kip describes this as when the left legs are on the same track as each other and the right legs on their own matching track. The flag can be used to create the energy, encourage the horse to step away, or to reassure them; if the horse has become too desensitized to it, the handler will need to use the flag assertively to once again elicit a positive response. Once the horse marched several circles united and with correct bend, we asked them to halt by stepping toward the hindquarter and raising the lead diagonally toward the withers. The horse’s hindquarters should step out (crossing over with inside hind) and their neck bend in. Kip called this “disengaging” the hind quarter, though he doesn’t love that term.

In doing some of these movements, I was struck (not for the first time) by how much overlap there is between some of these concepts and the fundamentals of dressage. My former coach, Verne Batchelder, had a movement he called “the circle of submission”, in which the rider actively executed a volte and asked the horse to step the hindquarters out for several strides while maintaining the inside bend and position of the neck. However you say it–asking the horse to yield their hips, engage their hocks, move their feet—ultimately requires that the horse be willing to allow their bodies to be manipulated and their toplines to begin to relax and stretch. It is simple biomechanics; a horse cannot reach further under his body with the hind legs if his back is tight.

Kip taught a mounted session in the afternoons; I was able to make it back to observe a few hours of day two’s lesson. He emphasized that all of the flag exercises he does on the ground, he also does while mounted. Though I didn’t get to see much of how he incorporates the flag into mounted work, he mentioned that at the end of day one, he backed a leggy 2-year-old warmblood that was in our group; by the end of that first ride (which was a very low stress experience, from what I was told), he was riding with the flag.

Each session, Kip worked with a horse with whom he could demo the various skills and techniques. I was floored to learn that this calm, elegant Quarter Horse mare of Karen Bishop’s was only 4 years old! She demoed in the morning set and then was ridden in the afternoon. Truly wise beyond her years!

I should ask my horses to back more often and with more intention.

Kip introduced several ways of asking the horse to back in hand which can then be translated to work under saddle. The most basic option requires the horse to back to the end of the lead rope from a rather light flick of the line; we also played with asking the horse to back with poll flexion off of noseband pressure from the halter (from each side) as well as backing on a straight line off a short shank (also from each side). This last form of backing can easily be added onto a yield of the haunches.

Practicing backing up in hand. Here, you should have your hand upside down on the knot of the halter, as opposed to right side up like I have it here. That way you can use your elbow to keep the horse’s head away from you if they swing it up! Kip had us apply side to side pressure on the noseband using the knot under the chin, with the goal of the horse softly flexing in the poll and smoothly stepping back.

In later sessions, we also learned how to add neck flexion in time with the lift of the foreleg on the outside, which caused the horse to back onto an arc. We later played with backing parallel to the wall, then timing a flick of the flag with the “about to step” movement of any individual limb. This causes the horse to balance back and then push forward with more power. With four distinct limbs to focus on, there is plenty to practice.

On days two and three, when Izzy was with me, we also played with backing under saddle. Until that day, I had never asked Izzy to back even a single step with me on board, and Kip wanted us to start with five steps on a soft feel, then add a bend in the horse’s neck and back on a quarter turn! I can’t say we were the most successful pair in the ring, but thinking about our work on the ground helped with the intention under saddle. When Izzy expressed confusion, Kip had me break down the movement so it became one step back, one step bend.

Watching Kip demonstrate asking the horse to yield the neck in either direction at the halt. Depending on whether a leg aid is applied, the horse should either simply move their neck or also yield their haunches.

One of Kip’s overall themes was to never waste an opportunity to move your horse’s feet with intention. This could be as simple as opening the forehand or yielding the haunches, or as elaborate as walking on a straight line of your choosing with the horse walking half circles in each direction in front of you.

Despite three, three hour long sessions and the opportunity to audit two hours of a second group’s mounted lesson, I know that this clinic has only allowed me to scratch the surface of a skill set that Kip says has taken him twenty-five years of hard work to earn. Since the clinic, I have been playing with these tools fairly consistently with both Izzy and Nori, and in general most of the movements are starting to feel easier and better coordinated on my end. However, I do find myself wondering what I am doing wrong—because I am certain I have already forgotten about some important detail related to timing, posture or position—but I think Kip might say that it is better to try a little than not at all. You certainly don’t get any better at new skills by just daydreaming about them.

Practicing is important but sometimes it is also necessary to stop and listen to the instructions!

And in terms of my initial and main motivation—to take Izzy off farm for a positive outing—this clinic was a great success. She trailered on her own like a veteran, and upon arrival did nothing sassier than a few nervous whinnies. There were so many firsts for her—first time being ridden off farm, first time being ridden in a group, first time being ridden in an indoor, first time seeing mirrors—and I think in any other setting I would have been even more nervous than she was. But by the time we had finished an hour and a half of ground work each day, getting on board for the second half of each set was basically a non-event. Izzy came home from the clinic more confident and more mature than she went into it—which means the experience was a success, even if I still need more practice on the timing with my flag or position of my body when opening the forehand.

Kip Fladland grew up in Montana and worked on several cattle ranches before meeting legendary horseman Buck Brannaman. Inspired by Brannaman’s teachings, Fladland began working for him in 1996 and traveled with him for five years. Since 2004, he has conducted his own clinics across the country as well as started/re-started thousands of horses for clients. I found Fladland to be patient, firm, clear and consistent—exactly the type of temperament necessary for success with horses, or let’s be honest, people in general. To learn more, visit his website: https://www.kipfladlandhorsemanship.com/

As always, gracious thanks to our clinic organizers, Karen Bishop and Leslie Ann McGowan of Linden Woods Farm. Thank you for continuing to bring top caliber clinicians to our area and for welcoming the local community to your lovely facility so that we all can expand our education.

Horse Care and Management, Magazine Articles, Personal Stories

Growing Pains

March 25, 2021 christinakeim Leave a comment

Spring Hollow Or Noir, who goes by Nori at home, is a rising 4 year old Morgan and the youngest horse at Cold Moon Farm. I recently learned that she is the first foal of her sire, Spring Hollow Statesman, and many eyes besides my own are eagerly watching her develop. I adore her, I admire her and I am excited about her future. But at the same time, raising young horses isn’t all sunshine and lollipops, and that is what I want to talk about in this blog.

When it comes to raising and developing a young horse, I think it is important for equestrians to share stories of challenge and setback and to be honest about the ups and downs of the training process. Sure, sharing the victories feels pretty sweet and I appreciate hearing about those moments– but let’s not pretend that getting there didn’t include hitting a few potholes along the way. Otherwise, it is too easy to scroll social media posts and feel as if we are being left behind by our peers, progressing too slowly, or are otherwise doing things wrong.

When it comes to Nori, I feel this like whoa, especially when it comes to the past year.

Separating Your Seedlings

In theory, I would have liked to back Nori this past summer, when she was 3, as I did with Izzy; here, “backing” is defined as me sitting on her in a saddle while being led around by a ground handler. Compared to Izzy at the same age, Nori looked much more physically developed yet mentally, she seemed much younger. I decided to hold off.

That choice was a good one, because as it turned out, Nori had her own plans for what she wanted to accomplish in her three-year-old summer.

For the better part of two years, Nori and DRF Isabela, (two years older and better known as Izzy) were the best of friends. They shared hay piles, took naps together and scratched each other’s backs. But as Nori matured, small cracks began to form in their relationship. From day one, the herd ranking had clearly been Marquesa at the top, Izzy in the middle and Nori at the bottom. But by summer 2020, Nori began subtly staking her claim on a higher social rank. The symptoms were so understated at first that I almost missed them—slightly more frequent squeals, small bite marks, an occasional challenge for a prime sleeping spot—but by early summer there was no mistaking that in Nori, we had a ‘social climber on the rise’.

Nori (left) and Izzy (right), before the troubles began.

One day in early July, I came home from a day of hiking to find Nori a bit more banged up than usual; she had a few new cuts, all small, and a front leg was a little puffy. Then I realized that she was intermittently locking her stifle. Ugh. After a video consult with my vet, we deferred further investigation of the injury until the next day. Dr. Monika’s exam revealed that Nori had overextended her left stifle, resulting in some inflammation and a possible teeny tiny avulsion fracture where a piece of ligament had pulled away from bone. Stall rest was out of the question so we opted to do a round of NSAIDs and to try to keep Nori as quiet as possible in her paddock. Thankfully, the swelling resolved and the stifle stabilized after only a few minor setbacks.

One of several photos I texted to Dr. Monika as we tried to determine “Red Alert” injury vs. “can safely wait until morning”.

But the die had been cast. Over the next several weeks, while Nori was supposed to be “resting quietly in her paddock”, the tension between her and Izzy escalated. Sometimes, the two were their usual inseparable selves. But increasingly, I heard scuffles in the paddock, their intensity growing with each skirmish.

The final straw came one morning at 5:00 AM. I awoke to the sound of a significant altercation between one or more horses, accompanied by worried whinnies from the rest of the herd. I ran out in my pajamas to find that Izzy had cornered Nori and was trying to kick her over and over. I grabbed a halter and lead and ran into the paddock, swinging the rope and yelling like a crazy banshee woman (it is perhaps a good thing that my closest neighbor is also an early riser). I’m not sure this was the smartest move–nor do I know what I would have done next had it proved unsuccessful– but it distracted Izzy long enough that Nori could get away. I threw everyone some hay, checked over each horse and headed back into the house.

However, I knew the reprieve would only be temporary.

Looking majestic while on a hand walk fall 2020. Two halters because I sometimes don’t trust the rope one!

Over coffee that morning, I commented, “You know, if I was boarding somewhere, I would be all over the barn manager to get my horse out of that paddock. NOW.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single readily available location on the property to put Nori, or anyone else, without significant reconfiguration. While I finished my own breakfast, I worked out a short-term arrangement that would at least get us through the day. I moved our elder statesman, Snowy, to a grass field where he spends most mornings anyway, then moved Nori into Snowy’s “Bachelor Pad”– a dry lot attached to a two-stall shelter. As I slipped her halter off, I exhaled a sigh of relief. For the moment, at least, the situation was stabilized.

Later that day, we subdivided the Bachelor Pad in half with three strands of electric rope, added a new gate and voila– Snowy and Nori became neighbors. Despite neither horse having tons of room, they adjusted well and we worked hard to ensure that each horse had extra “out of paddock” time. Snowy spent four or five hours every day in the grass turnout and went for regular rides, and Nori went for hand walks in addition to daily groundwork training. I was relieved that Nori was indifferent when Snowy left to go do things without her; she seemed to enjoy supervising activity in the riding arena, located just adjacent.

But with fall rapidly approaching and winter on its heels, these two tiny turnouts could not be a permanent solution. After several rounds of brainstorming, we spent the rest of the summer and early fall building an additional in/out stall with its own fenced dry lot area off the side of the barn. In early October, the new “Nori Habitat” was finally ready and she moved in.

Seedlings Up Rooted

In a perfect world, a young horse has other young horses to play with. Though Nori seemed quite content in her own space, I worried that she would need additional sources of psychological engagement now that she wasn’t directly next to another horse. But ultimately, I felt the separation was a sacrifice I had to make to reduce the risk of serious injury. I made an effort to spend time with her every day, even as the weather grew colder.

One Saturday afternoon in mid-December, I was sitting at my writing desk and staring out the big window that faces the Nori Habitat. Suddenly, there was a loud “whoosh” and a second later Nori slammed full bore into her heavy duty gate, bending the metal and knocking it off the top hinge. Snow sliding off the metal roof of the barn had startled her, and she did what many startled horses do; she ran. But the paddock is just a few strides long, the footing was slippery from early snow, and she couldn’t stop in time. That night, we had to use the tractor to flatten the gate in order to get it reattached correctly. Fortunately, Nori was uninjured.

A month later, Nori spooked and knocked the gate off its hinges again. The damage was less severe this time, but as we worked to get the pieces reconnected, I felt the first twinges of concern brewing in my subconscious. Is this going to be a “thing”? Will this horse learn to practice self-restraint? Will she desensitize to the noise before she causes herself serious injury?

Then one evening in early February, Nori spooked and ran a third time. Learning from her previous mistakes, she turned to avoid the gate but instead she slid into the wooden fence itself. Her momentum broke a 4×4 post as well as a three board fence lined with strands of aluminum wire. Now loose, Nori ran to the gate of her original paddock, where Izzy and Marquesa stood, whinnying their worry.

It is a true miracle that Nori escaped from this with not even a scratch.

I was incredulous when we caught her that the filly had emerged unscathed. Not even a tiny tear on her Horsewear blanket revealed that she had just demolished a fairly significant fence line.

By headlamp and tractor light, that evening we managed to reconstruct the fence. The broken post was partially frozen into the ground and we had to pour hot water around the stump, fastening a chain to pull it out of the earth. By 8 PM, Nori was back in her Habitat. But I was a mass of nerves.

Nori loves to hang out in the snow. The Bachelor Pad is in the background.

This situation is a time bomb, I thought as I tossed and turned that night instead of sleeping. We have been lucky so far. But if she keeps hitting the fence, sooner or later, our luck will run out.

I started to worry that, despite my very best efforts, I was failing to meet this horse’s basic needs.

About two weeks later, on a warmish sunny February afternoon, I went out to throw lunch hay to find Nori soaked in sweat on her chest and flanks. She had been totally fine just a few hours earlier, when I had groomed her, but now she was anxious, pawing and wanting to roll. I immediately assumed she was colicking, but then I heard the roar of snowmobiles and the accompanying cheers of their riders coming from the powerline trails behind the farm. Whenever the machines raced past, Nori’s eyes grew bigger and her anxious behavior increased.

Still wondering if she was starting to colic, I haltered her and took her out of the paddock. She had a good roll in softer snow and immediately started nibbling hay in between anxious spins. I walked her around and tried to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. I finally put her back in the paddock and watched her helplessly.

I AM failing this horse. No matter what I do, she isn’t happy.

There probably isn’t a worse feeling in the world than knowing you have a problem and trying every solution you can think of, only to have the problem get worse.

Maybe she just needs a little more space?

I briefly debated putting Nori back out with her original herd, but with winter footing and the memories of earlier issues still clear, I quickly crossed that idea off the list. Then I looked at Snowy, sleeping in the sun in his Bachelor Pad. Without the divider, it was maybe a third larger than the Nori Habitat. The position of the double sided shed provided a buffer from the noises out back. Snowy never reacts when snow comes sliding down off the roof and at 26+ years old, prefers to only amble slowly.

Creeping on Nori while walking solo on the power line trails.

Within a few minutes, I had traded the two horses—Nori went in the Bachelor Pad (perhaps now a “She Shed”?) and Snowy in the Nori Habitat. He quickly busied himself cleaning up her hay. She spent the rest of the afternoon pirouetting and bucking, pacing and prancing. But she could do so without sliding into the fence, or the gate, and eventually she seemed to burn herself out and settled to eating hay, too.

And this arrangement is where each horse is currently located. Whether it will work long term—well, at this point, who really knows? It is working for now, and with improving weather and footing, Nori will only be getting more interactions and activities to keep her mind and body busy. All I can do is hope.

But that day with the snowmobiles was, for me, a personal low. It was a day where I doubted if I have what it takes to work with this talented, athletic, sensitive mare and wondered if she would simply be better off with someone else.

I want my horses to be content, to feel safe and secure in their environment. What is this mare trying to tell me she needs that I am not giving her?

This season, it is one of my goals to try to figure that out.

Blogger’s Note: In addition to all of the above, Nori has also intermittently experienced Free Fecal Water (FFW), a messy and unsightly condition in which excess water is passed alongside normally formed balls of manure. My article, “When Passing Manure Becomes a Messy Predicament”, from the March 8 & 15, 2021 issue of The Chronicle of the Horse, takes a closer look at what we know (and don’t know) about this syndrome. One advantage of Nori moving into her own space has been being able to customize her diet; with these adjustments, her symptoms have almost wholly resolved. Fingers crossed!

Book Reviews, Training Tips and Techniques

Book Review: Ten Golden Rules of Horse Training

February 14, 2021 christinakeim Leave a comment

Ten Golden Rules of Horse Training by Bruce Nock, Ph.D.

c 2004 Half Halt Press, Boonesboro, MD. 188 pages. (out of print)

ISBN 1-0939481-67-7

A few months ago, a dear friend winnowed her equestrian book collection and bequeathed to me a selection of books in need of new homes. Among them were several on the subject of horse training specifically; with an unstarted four-year-old and a lightly started six-year-old on my farm, I am currently interested in anything to do with ground work, foundational training and similar topics. With many to choose from, I simply started with the book on top of the pile: Ten Golden Rules of Horse Training by Bruce Nock.

Author Bruce Nock has experience training horses and also holds advanced degrees in psychobiology, a field in which scientists seek to explain the effect of certain biological processes on human and non-human animal behavior. At its core, Ten Golden Rules takes concepts you likely learned in Psych 101—ideas like classical conditioning, positive and negative reinforcement, stimulus and reward—and “translates” them into horse training concepts. While these ideas are common in nearly any book on the basic training of horses, Nock’s education and professional experience brings a new level of specificity and rationale to the conversation. For example, when he presents Golden Rule # 2 (Signals should stop as soon as the horse begins to make an acceptable response) he then goes on to explain not just how that looks in equestrian terms, but the science behind why that approach works best in shaping the horse’s behavior.

But Ten Golden Rules is not so densely technical that readers will feel as if they are reading a text book. In general, Nock focuses on the application of these concepts in real equestrian life and explains how their use will positively affect equine behavior and performance. He also emphasizes that his “golden rules” are applicable to all horses, of any experience, riding discipline or breed.

Spring Hollow Or Noir, here at three years old, learning to wear a saddle.

For me, some of the most interesting chapters dealt with using the “golden rules” to modify behavior in horses with established patterns of fear, anxiety or generalized mistrust. Using “golden rules” #9 and #10, trainers can help a horse to gain confidence around unfamiliar stimuli, both on the ground and under saddle. Nock also reaches into the classical horsemanship canon to identify traditional mounted exercises especially well suited to dissipate physical and mental tension in the horse.

Overall, Ten Golden Rules of Horse Training is an accessible book, written in a relatable style. In my opinion, the subject matter is important not just for trainers but for anyone who regularly interacts with an equine. After all, as Nock reminds us, “Each time you ask a horse to change something that he is doing, that is, ask for a transition, whether from the ground or saddle, you are training. There are no exceptions….Every time you ask a horse to do anything, he is learning one thing or another whether it is your intention or not” (Nock, 2004, pg. 15).

This book’s original publisher, Half Halt Press, is sadly no longer in business, but I believe copies still circulate on the used book market (I love www.alibris.com to find all manner of titles, usually fairly inexpensively). It is also available as an e-book through Nock’s website, http://liberatedhorsemanship.com/info/.

Book Reviews

Book Review: From Birth to Backing

December 17, 2017 christinakeim Leave a comment

From Birth to Backing by Richard Maxwell with Johanna Sharples

c 1998 Trafalgar Square Publishing, North Pomfret, VT. 148 pages.

ISBN 1-57076-120-5

From Birth to Backing provides a glimpse into the training philosophies of Richard “Max” Maxwell, a UK based horse trainer whose methods are strongly influenced by Californian ‘horse whisperer’ Monty Roberts. The text is logically arranged into age-appropriate chapters, with an overarching theme woven throughout that each step is essential and must be taken in sequence. Therefore, Maxwell’s methods are useful to consider even if you are working with an older animal whose performance requires taking a step (or two or three) back.

Maxwell takes readers through his step by step process, which begins with an overview of imprinting a foal, to introducing basic handling, to developing respect and trust in humans, to ultimately accepting the introduction of equipment and a rider. While his methods are grounded in the philosophy of Roberts’ “join up”, there are no gimmicks here—no special halters, patented flags on a stick, etc. All the methods and techniques which Maxwell describes could be executed by any educated and conscientious horse owner, using equipment they already own.

Maxwell is clear to emphasize throughout the book that to be the trainer of a young horse requires confidence and consistency; he recommends seeking outside help if the natural behaviors of a youngster trying to figure out the correct answer will be intimidating to the handler. However, reading this book is still helpful for those not able to undertake the whole process themselves, for understanding the importance of both a clear methodology and calm, consistent handling could assist the owner of a young horse in selecting an appropriate trainer to establish the basics.

Maxwell emphasizes that when introducing new items to the youngster, do not approach them timidly or try to “sneak” the new object up onto them. “March up to the horse with the equipment, allow him to smell and investigate it, reassure him with your voice and place it firmly where you want it” (Maxwell, 1998, p. 73).

What readers may appreciate the most about this book is that the layout is quite intuitive. Not only is each chapter focused on the particular skills most appropriate for a certain age range, but within each chapter, shorter segments help to break down the content into easy to comprehend chunks. The text is filled with ample illustrations which help to reinforce the main themes.

While most of the concepts put forth in this book are familiar, one which I found rather unique was that Maxwell does not believe in using a lead horse when starting to hack out the youngster, as he feels that the horse should look exclusively to the rider for their confidence and safety. Maxwell says, “Very often, riding out with an older horse is an emotional crutch for the rider rather than the youngster. In my experience it doesn’t actually work that well either—I’ve never found that having an older horse there will stop a young horse bolting or misbehaving if he wants to” (Maxwell, 1998, p. 113). Instead, he proposes taking your youngster out on solo hacks, and exposing them to as many potentially frightening stimuli as possible, preferably while the horse is still learning their balance under a rider—that way, their resistance will likely be minimal and their confidence in the rider increased from the very beginning.

Introducing your youngster to as many unfamiliar stimuli as possible, while maintaining a calm, confident demeanor, will help build their trust in a human handler.

Overall From Birth to Backing is a fairly easy read, and its concepts clearly articulated and illustrated. One of the amazing things about publishing is how quickly a text can start to feel stale, and at almost twenty years old, this book’s photos could use an update. However, this should not take away at all from the essential message of the book: establish a trusting relationship with your horse from the very beginning, and from there nearly anything is possible.

4/5 stars

Horse Care and Management, Personal Stories

Keeping Up With the Jones’

August 26, 2017 christinakeim 5 Comments

I think every other photo or post on my social media stream is of someone’s baby horse doing some amazing accomplishment. Whether they are winning on the line, learning to wear tack, or being taught groundwork basics, these youngsters just seem to be high achieving go-getters.

For one example, here is an excerpt from a recent sales post for a 2 year old Connemara cross (same age and cross as my Izzy):

“…Training so far has included all ground manners (cross ties, clips, loads on trailer and trailers well, leads, lunges, stands for farrier and vet, bathes, free jumps). She has had a lot of saddle work as well as bridled (and longed in tack with no drama)…”

The mare looks lovely and has obviously had a busy spring. But as I read the ad in early July, I have to admit that I felt, well, inadequate, in terms of my own work with Izzy. At that time, Izzy’s resume was nowhere near so robust.

Look, we cross tie like a grown up horse.

It’s not because she lacks the aptitude or temperament. Izzy is simply the sweetest youngster I have ever interacted with. She is friendly, inquisitive and confident. She arrived from Wisconsin the day before an authentic winter blizzard, and she settled right in. “No drama”, to use a recent quote.

Izzy is by the Connemara stallion Skyview’s Triton and out of a Thoroughbred mare named Honest Wit. She was foaled on May 30, 2015, and so by my thinking she is a “young” two year old—when she arrived here in March, she wasn’t even quite two by the calendar.

Fresh off the trailer on a very cold March morning in NH!

I spent time this spring just getting to know her better. In working with Izzy, I want to make sure that each step of the process is taken as it comes, without hurry and with as much clarity of expectation as possible. Izzy’s breeder, Janet M. Johnson of Dayton Ridge Farm, spends time with all of her youngsters and they work on learning “age appropriate” skills. Izzy was already familiar with leading, grooming and having her feet handled when she arrived. But even so, certain things were new. The first time my farrier worked with her, Izzy regarded the foot stand with quite a look of horror and wanted nothing to do with it. She is always a little funny with her right front hoof and sometimes pulls it away. We just kept patiently handling her feet daily until it became routine.

One day in April, I was grooming Izzy in the barn aisle, holding her lead. She was a little fussy and almost before I knew it, the lead had slid through my hands and Izzy was galloping down the driveway. After a (terrifying for me) gallivant all about the front side of the property, and with the help of my housemate Lisa and a bucket of grain, she was back in hand. But clearly we needed a better system.

So I began introducing her to the cross ties. I did one tie at a time, clipping the lead to the opposite side of the halter and holding it while I worked on grooming. She explored the boundaries, and the first day that she hit the end of her tie I held my breath, not sure of what to expect. Izzy pulled for a moment, and then just stood there. Once I knew her response to the pressure seemed reasonable, I added the second crosstie. And just like that…we crosstied.

While I was dealing with my knee issues this spring, intern Kelly handled most of the “walk Izzy around the property” duties. But after recovering from my surgery, I began doing more “walk abouts” myself, taking Izzy up and down the driveway, leading from both sides, practicing transitions between the halt, walk and eventually the trot. I added voice commands and started carrying a short bat, then a dressage whip.

Intern Kelly, with her canine assistant Fox, take Izzy for a walk about.

As the black flies emerged in April, Izzy learned to wear a fly hat. Bug spray made her very nervous at first, but with calm repetition you can now spray her while she stands loose in the field.

In late spring/early summer, I introduced Izzy to wearing a saddle pad. I let her smell it, rubbed it on her body, and let her see it come up and over her back from both sides. “No drama”. From there, it was an easy step to wearing the soft cotton surcingle, even if I have to adjust it to the absolute smallest setting. Izzy still isn’t a fan of having it tightened, but once it is set, she seems unconcerned.

I set a few further goals for her for the summer. When presented in hand, two year olds must wear a bridle with a bit, so I felt it was appropriate for her to learn how to do that. I wanted her to load onto and off my straight load two horse trailer quietly, and then go for a few short rides. And I wanted to introduce her to the basics of longeing; in hand, we had started with the voice commands, but I wanted her to understand the concept of moving in a circle, responding to the handler’s voice and body cues, and to be comfortable with the equipment on and around her body. I wanted to do all of this through a series of short playful sessions, so that she enjoyed interacting with humans and remained her confident, inquisitive self.

First day in a bridle. Still sorting out the bit.

I am pleased to say that we have achieved all of that and more. On each step of the journey, Izzy has remained fairly willing and mostly obedient. Like any youngster, she has her moments of silliness and lost focus, but more often than not she stays mentally on task. Izzy calmly wears her bit and bridle, she does transitions in hand and on a longe circle, and has happily walked and trotted over low cavaletti in hand and on the longe. She ate several meals on the trailer and went for four short rides, two with a friend and two on her own. And as an added bonus activity, she has been ponied off her turn out buddy Marquesa around the farm. Maybe if I get brave I will take the pair of them out on the trails to see more of the world!

Learning to “pony”– all three of us together!

It is funny, though, because in spite of all this success, when I see a post about someone else’s overachieving baby horse, it is hard to not compare. Izzy doesn’t free jump (I have no where to do that, anyway), and I can’t really say that she is confirmed on the longe (she certainly doesn’t canter), and what the heck is that contraption they are longeing that youngster in anyway? Should I be using some contraption? I haven’t taken her off property to any breed shows, young stock shows or in hand future intergalactic performance horse testings. She has yet to wear a saddle. Am I doing this right? My friend’s two year does [insert accomplishment here]. Is this what human parents feel like when they find out that little Susie down the road went to elite swim camp or Johnny across the street just won a ‘budding artist’ award, while their own child is playing in a puddle and eating dirt?

img_0954-1 — When learning, it is important to have good role models.

But then I remind myself to take a step back. Because it really doesn’t matter what all of those other youngsters are doing. The journey we are on with our own animals is just that—ours. Izzy has successfully stepped up to—and exceeded—my expectations for her learning and development this summer. In spite of the transition into the school year, and available daylight growing shorter, I will still have the opportunity to play with her more before winter settles in, to confirm her basic longeing, and maybe even experiment with some basic long lining to learn about steering and pressure on the bit. But there is no hurry, no rush. If all Izzy does this fall is continues to mature and develop physically, the time which we already spent laying a foundation this summer will be like “money in the bank” next spring.

Horses do not progress on our schedule. My mentor Denny Emerson says all the time that the day you come into the ring with an agenda is the day you are not going to get where you want to go. There is a difference between making progress towards your set goals and making progress, no matter what. So I guess I will try to worry less about what everyone else’s baby horses are doing and just listen to mine.

She is pretty darn persuasive.

The Academic Equestrian