Fly Remedies

Not much in the Jet department today because I almost passed out during Porcupine in the 106 degree heat. I should have messed with him when it was cooler, but I got preoccupied putting SWAT ointment on some geriatrics. BTW, if you don't already have SWAT for open wounds, RUN (don't walk!) to the nearest feed/tack store and buy an industrial-sized tub of it! It's specifically designed to keep flies from turning an angry sore on your horse into a Thanksgiving feast. After smearing some on a wound that took up nearly the entire surface area of a horse named Vista's (such a sweet old lady) cheek, the stuff WOULD NOT come off my hands, and got rubbed in over my arms. The flies avoided me like the plague for the rest of the day. I've never seen a fly repellent like it. I know, you're all reading this thinking, "PSH! Who DOESN'T know about SWAT??" But this is really the first time I've had real bona fide EXPERIENCE in horse care, particularly first aid.

Tomorrow Zone 1 gets tackled. I'm sure Jet will give me plenty to write about when I get home!

Maybe It's NOT About the Treats

Only got to say hello to Jet for a couple of minutes. We took an equine biology class up at the ranch and then I had to get home to sleep (I work graveyard). Of course, it's after 3 and I have to get ready at 8, and I'm blogging...
Anyway, I was thoroughly convinced when Jet realized we had no treats to greet him with, his attitude would be, "The hell with you," and he'd saunter off, flanked by Blahnik, who would also give us the stink-eye to boot.
Actually, not only did Jet catch ME, but when he discovered the absence of treats, he simply DEMANDED scratches and face massages. He even reached around and groomed my shoulder while I was scratching his neck! I left with the warm fuzzies. Jet didn't walk away from the fence until he saw us turn the corner. Lately I've been hell bent on Natural Attraction, and it's been VERY interesting. It's the little things that have meant the most and will hopefully have a larger impact on what's to come.
Think this Parelli stuff is working...

Jet's Maiden Race!

I couldn't believe I found this! It is a recap from all the races at Aqueduct on March 31st, 2005. Read about Jet (Gold Ending) in race 5! There's a picture too!

http://www.nybreds.com/racing/bb_0503.html

Jet Needs Rubber Duckies and Squirt Guns

Since it is a crisp 110 degrees in the desert by 6am, Jet's playtime comes in small spurts. By 12 or 1 o'clock, the dust is so thick and the sun blazes like it came from Hell itself that all Mom, Jet and I want to do is stand in the shade and guzzle water.

I've had two major accomplishments in savviness so far. Jet comes when I call him and is always willing to come out and play (thank god for treats and supplements). Catching Game - check. He has also finally accepted the carrot stick. Yeah...I was too embarrassed to post on the Forum that we had issues with the FRIENDLY Game. Jet thought it was a longe whip, of course, so every time we swept it over him, he took off. It took a large arena, the 22 ft. line, and singing "Rock-a-Bye Horsie" (don't ask) while rubbing the savvy string up and down his body slooooooooooooooowly for over 2 hours before he showed curiousity in the Scary Orange Weapon and tried to eat it. Now when we run it over him, he falls asleep. He's not big on using his energy, but since it takes ME awhile to lick and chew, I'll worry about it later and brush up on that segment in L&HB. At this stage in the game, I am perfectly content to have a lazy, 1/2 dead horse who enjoys standing quietly in the round pen while I try to figure out how on earth to communicate that I want him to yield Zone 1 during the Driving Game. He will take a step or 2 when we drive him from Zone 1, and then he throws his head up and walks toward us (there's that Man O' War again, alive and well). I wonder how my fellow Parelli-a-holics were able to win the Driving Game with THEIR dominant horse.

He's also turning into a real butthead at the wash rack. He gets a rinse off nearly everytime Mom and I see him. For a horse whose favorite activity is to stop, suddenly he becomes devestated that he can't wander wherever he wants at Bath Time and tries to leave. Ultimately I want him to be that horse who doesn't have to be tied, but apparently we are waaayyy off from that. We've given him some grain to keep him occupied, but as soon as he's finished, he knocks over my tack box, chews up bottles of water, and tosses my brushes around before he just tries to walk away. He has been especially "naughty" the last two sessions when I merely draped the lead rope over the tie post. The first day, I realized I was getting annoyed with him while he was getting into mischief and I felt bad after I left. His ears were forward and his eyes were big and playful while he happily threw my brushes and watched me run after them. He was definitely winning the Dominant Game, but he wasn't TRYING to be a jerk, he was just being playful at a time when I would have preferred him to stand still. He started acting pushy and crowdy this afternoon, so I challenged him to Let's Back Up. I'd call it a draw. I guess in Horse though, that means I was the loooooooooooooooser. I wonder what it is about the wash rack that gets him all riled up. He never moves his feet so often as to when it's Bath Time. He's not afraid of water; in fact, he loves it when I point the hose to his mouth so he can take a few slurps.
As I said, he was at his fussiest when the rope was merely draped over the post. After backing him up a few times this time around, I then decided I would feel saner and safer by just tying him up. Obviously he takes too much advantage of the freedom I gave him, due to lack of respect, which is MY bad, so knotted to the hitchin' post he was.. Actually, he stood more quietly this time than the other times he was tied up for the hose.
So maybe I have answered my own question. Jet needs playtime at the wash rack before Bath Time? I guess he just reminded me that there's no direct line thinking when you're behaving like a prey animal. There is no catch, tie to hitch post, stand still, get bathed. Hmm...how interesting. Any normies would tell me to cross-tie him or whack him around a bit and FORCE him to stand still but there's GOT to be a more polite way that will make Jet think, "Hmm, Mom's not as dumb as she looks..."
Thoughts, ideas, advice, stories??

Why Parelli?

One of my favorite story topics is why people chose Parelli. This is my story.


I took riding lessons regularly from the time I was 4 until I was about 13. I was taught traditional English. Jam your heels down, keep your back straight, lean forward, kick to go, pull to stop. I loved horses but didn't much care for the other riders. They were mean, vindictive, superficial and judgemental. Most of them seemed to enjoy getting pissed off with their horses and smacking them in the face than actually riding. Others could NOT comprehend the world WOULD keep turning if they didn't talk smack about everyone at the barn they hated, including their best friends, for one day.

As much as I enjoyed the actual activity of riding (especially jumping!), a lot of what I was taught did not make sense to me. Instructors told me horses were extremely stupid animals and it would always take all your strength just to make them move over. I was told the classic "teach him who's boss," and was ordered to take jumps or keep riding horses that scared me. I also didn't like how I was taught to lead - you know, holding the leadrope at the clasp. They said you had better control over the horses that way. Sorry, I'm 9 years old trying to drag a 17h TB to the barn by the throat latch, either I was getting trampled or I was getting dragged. It used to terrify me to just run into a pasture to catch a horse.

Apparently I was a very good rider by traditional English AND Western standards. On a vacation at a dude ranch in Wyoming when I was 10, I took 1st place in the ranch gymkhana (sp?). Back home, my trainers (2 of whom rode on the US team) begged my mother to put me in shows. She refused and I hated her for it. 15 years later, I thank her for it. I am a sensitive baby who takes everything far too personally and I was pushed around enough at the barns (looking back, it was probably out of jealousy), showing may have traumatized me from horses for life. Be that as it was, when the daughter of the BO where I was riding at the time tried beating me up on the soccer field because she was furious after hearing her trainer say I was "spectacular," I stopped riding regularly. I was fed up with the obnoxious riders. I was also fed up with the back pain, the buckets of sweat I poured in the dead of winter trying to keep difficult horses under control, fed up with feeling like so many lessons turned into control battles that I would ultimately lose because even if I got the horse to submit, the horse would want nothing to do with me next week. I adore horses with all my heart and to have one run away from me because I rode him would just kill me. So I visited people's properties, gave pats, fed carrots, went on some trail rides to tide me over. Still, I always yearned for the day when I would have a horse of my own and learn to REALLY enjoy riding. More so, I wanted a relationship where my horse would do anything for me as I would do anything for him.

When we decided to move to Vegas, Mom and I decided we wanted to get back into the equine world. She had owned horses before me and her own story is dotted with accidents, traumas, and experiences that drove her to merely admire horses from afar for over 20 years. We planned to share a nice brick house QH or Arabian that she would groom and I would barrel race. "No Thoroughbreds," she insisted.

Right after I made it out west (she and my stepdad moved out the year before I did), Mom bought a book called "Natural Horse*Man*Ship."

"It was very interesting, she told me, "and the stuff this guy says about horses and why they do some of the things they do makes so much more sense than what they taught us back east."
A few weeks later, she bought us tickets to the Natural Horsemanship Tour Stop being held at one of the casinos.

"If this is just some exhibition about why these peoples' horses are better than everyone's, I'm gonna be seriously bored," I sneered. Oh, how our foot can bleed when we shoot it with a bazooka. Watching Linda take Remmer for a spin around the arena bareback with a halter made me cry. They looked the way I always wanted to be with a horse - completely united. By the end of the second day, Mom and I were hooked. We had barely slept for 2 nights because we were so excited thinking about how we HAD to get into this method Pat and Linda were teaching. A week later, we were in the Savvy Club. We met an unbelievably generous woman who opened the doors to her ranch and gave us free reign with her horses and her Parelli equipment. Without her, we either never would have been able to progress the way we have, or we would have been playing Porcupine in the bushes to avoid criticism and ridicule. We have been EXTREMELY lucky to have been able to practice Parelli in open-minded, NH oriented ranches. Shiloh, where we board Jet, hosted a clinic back in February which we both participated in and cannot WAIT till our instructor comes back (3 Star Trainer Marc Rea, huzzah) to Vegas so we can put Jet through some hard-core playtime.

The rest is history. To date, Mom and I have Level Two knowledge but since Jet has been raised traditional, albeit treated VERY well and loved by his past owners, we are at back at Level 1. Since we started following Pat's theories over a year ago, we have had less frustrating and lousy horse days than the first 20 years we spent with horses. At least now when something goes wrong, we understand why - we didn't communicate correctly, we acted like predators, etc. We understand horse psychology runs far deeper than "they bein' dumb ass, spooky animals." It continues to thrill me now when I put Pat's teachings to the test and they work. It constantly reminds me why I chose PNH - because his psychology and methods make the MOST SENSE. So much of what he preaches seem like such no-brainers, but then again, 5 years ago, if my horse was a jerk for the farrier, it probably wouldn't have occured to me that it was MY responsibility to teach the horse to behave. After exhausting efforts to get his feet cleaned, I would be relieved to get a hoof-finicky horse off my hands for a while while the farrier dealt with him (yes, I am a bratty, rude little witch. Let it go). Dur. Jet acted like a clown ONCE about his feet. He kept trying to give Mom a wedgie. She set up a body block and the next time Jet went to bite, his nose bonked into her poised elbow (she didn't ELBOW him, she just had it raised so that he would hit it himself). He now lifts his feet like a gentleman. It's just one example of how Parelli has opened our eyes in ways we never thought possible. Steering us into the mindset that it is all about the communication and putting our principles before our goals has been monumental. Also, plain and simple...it's FUN!

As for my barrel racing plans, nix. It's fun to watch, but I've never been particularly competitve. I also thought I would make the switch to Western when I moved to Cowboy Country, but that went out the window when I realized I MUCH preferred English, and I'll be an English rider till the day I die, so there. There are no plans for Jet to train for shows. Jet had a job. He was a racehorse. He's earned the right to just be loved and be a horse. All I want him to do is be my best friend/partner/therapist. When I walk into Jet's pasture, call his name, and he abandons his hay to walk across the field to nuzzle my shoulder...that's all that matters. It's all about the relationship.

About Jet

How Jet came to be mine is a thoroughly un-exciting story except for the fact that HE chose ME. I was trying to make friends with a different horse in the same paddock Jet was in at the time, but Jet rushed over instead, nibbling my sleeve and draping his head over my shoulder (a horsey hug?)

He was born in New York on May 25th, 2002. Upon learning he was a native New Yorker, just like me, and that his birthday is just 4 days after mine, I somehow KNEW he was the One. His registered name is Gold Ending. He is by Precise End out of Made for Satin by Premiership. I have never heard of any of these horses. Bragging rights in his bloodlines include Forty Niner, Secretariat, Mr. Prospector, and my very favorite racehorse of all time, Man O' War. I look at him in goofy awe that I have a living decendant of Man O' War. Quite often I will see Man O' War's imperial, lordly look come out in him when he raises his head in defiance.

Horsenality wise, Jet is the LAZIEST Left Brained Extrovert you will ever meet. He has more qualities of LBE than the other categories on the chart, but his 2 favorite pastimes are stopping and eating.

Jet lives at a rescue sanctuary about 45 minutes from the infamous Strip. My mother and I started volunteering there at Christmas time (BTW, all you Parelli folk who donated blankets, Shiloh was soooooo grateful! I couldn't believe the response I got!! Over 30 blankets from Savvy Club members were donated to the rescue farm! You guys are amazing!) and were more taken by those needy horses than any of the show barns we rode at back east. I could write for HOURS about the wonderful friends (human and equine) we have made up there, but I think it is better described at http://shilohlasvegas.com/ . Thankfully Jet's story is not filled with saddness. He was one of the luckier TB's who was sent to Finger Lakes Thoroughbred Adoption Program in Finger Lakes, NY when he stopped racing. After he was rehabbed he was shipped out to Shiloh. A lady adopted him shortly thereafter, keeping him at the ranch, but she stopped paying board so Jill (one of the owners of Shiloh, and one of my personal heroes) re-po'ed him. Whatever this gal did to Jet while she DID want him was fabulous. He responded to the 7 Games for the first time so well, Mom and I thought his previous owner was a fellow Parelli-ite.

My mother and I adopted Jet on his 6th birthday and he has been the new family baby ever since. Ooed and ahhed over, adored by all who meet him and UTTERLY SPOILED ROTTEN. He is thoroughy treat driven, which we have tried working to our advantage. At least he has figured out that he has to be polite and not climb over Mommy and Grammy to get a carrot. The boy is 16.2 and Mom is 5'1, she will turn into powder if he steps on her. When we take him out, we put his supplement bucket in different spots so that he will not anticipate where we are leading him and start rushing to get to his bucket. We also do this so that he associates all areas of the ranch we take him to with something yummy and fun for him to look forward to. IT'S WORKING.
Although he is making slow but surely great progress through Parelli methods, my absolute favorite time with him is Undemanding Time. Jet is nothing more than an 1200 lb pet, and he loves to be cuddled and scratched and rubbed. He is the World's Largest Kitten. There's where most of his spoiling comes in - the petting, hugs, kisses, cuddles. He has such a sunny disposition, and just soaks up the attention. Total ham. The other day a visitor, little boy, asked me if he could give Jet an apple. I said sure and led Jet to him. Jet took a big bite and the boy reached out to pet him while he was munching. Like a shy baby, Jet buried his head in my middle instead. I couldn't help but "Aww, sweetie!" him to death while I rested my head in his bridle path. Such a kyootie.

We pasture board him which provides EXCELLENT Catching Game strategies, although they don't always work. Sometimes we can only make it to the barn twice a week, so pasture boarding is especially worth its weight in gold. He is one of 2 geldings in a field of 12 mares. When he was first put in that pasture he made friends with a Palamino who followed him everywhere, but when Blahnik, the fancy chestnut with 3 white stockings joined the crew, he dumped the Palamino and has not been seen without her ever since. In essence, right now we're working on TWO relationships - our relationship with Jet AND his girlfriend Blahnik. She throws tantrums whenever he leaves the pasture so we try to spend time with her as well so she knows we are friends, not evil predators who might eat her lover. We also play the games with her to gain her respect so she won't be bitchy and try to push us out of the way when we want to pet our own horse. She and I are getting along far better than we first did (I posted in the SC forum about the "high hoof" she gave me). But Jet is our one and only, our baby boy, the light and sunshine in our lives. The vacations and nice clothes and fancy dinners I always enjoyed may have to be sacrificed for awhile (or forever!) but everytime I look into those innocent, big brown eyes of that big black monster, none of it matters because he's all I've ever really wanted my whole life.

About Me (Disclaimer)

I've loved horses my entire life. My favorite game at recess was gallopping around the soccer field and challenging my horse-crazy friend to stakes races and show jumping competitions. Incidently, I got teased a lot. It took many, many years for me to stop caring. These days, the first sentence out of someone's mouth if they describe me is, "She...is a horse...FANATIC."

I'm essentially a horse slut. I fall in love with any horse I spend more than 2 minutes with. Since I moved to Vegas 2 years ago, I can name off at least 10 horses I seriously considered buying. Although I never met a particular breed I didn't like, Thoroughbreds are my Achilles Heel. A Thoroughbred that used to race is like crack to me. I don't know why. I tried switching to sounder, saner breeds and I always come back to TB's. I give up.

I've started this blog because it only took 20 years to finally find the horse of my dreams (an OTTB, of course) and I want to share my experiences in practicing Parelli Natural Horsemanship with other like-minded horse freaks. This is where I check "yes" on the inevitable terms of acceptance than non-NH people will slander me, and very adamantly express their opinion that NH is bullshit and pointless and Pat Parelli is the biggest asshole on the planet. I honestly do not care. Opinions are about the only thing people are truly, naturally entitled to. Non-NHer's (who may affectionately and respectfully be referred to as "normies") going to have to agree to disagree on training methods. There will be more about this in a later post. All I ask to anyone who wishes to make fun of me is to PLEASE check your spelling and grammar, I simply canNOT be offended by someone who says, "ur a fukin looser nda i think parelee sux n ur hors is ugly 2!!111!!"

When I post on the Savvy Club forum, I try to be very respectful and keep my language G-rated. The gloves are off on this forum. It is my blog, and I have a mouth like a sailor when I get riled up (or am too lazy to censor myself). Humor is one of my biggest allies and defense mechanisms. I make terrible jokes, make remarks that are in truly bad taste, and bleed sarcasm whether the situation is appropriate or not.

This blog will include the trials and tribulations of being a 1st time horse owner as well as my road to Savvy. Don't ever hesitate to yabber on about your own experiences in my comments section!

Keep it Savvy and see you around the blogspot!