Onward!

Dave and Rookie passed their L1 groundwork assessment with flying colors. It was enlightening to watch and I had the best seat in the house - right next to Marc, listening to him dictate all the rhyme and reasoning behind Parelli's maddness.

Dave has Pushing Passenger left to go and he officially has his red string. Go Dave and Rookie!!

Seeing how well Dave and Rookie have progressed since we first met them back in Feb. at the last Parelli clinic definitely had me feeling woozy with Assessment Fever. I have reasoned since first learning about the assessment test that its entire existence is for us predators who need recognition, praise, and material prizes as rewards for our accomplishments. We need to see it documented on paper from our instructors that we have passed our level tasks. We need those colored savvy strings, psychologically. They represent the hard work we have put into our horses. These trophies signify we know what we're doing, and we are successfully climbing the totem pole toward Ultimate Unity.

The assessments are changing, as we know. Soon we'll be doing "auditions" in the Four Savvy's for our strings. It seems more confusing to me, and more tasks will be involved. Time is running out for anyone who wants to do less for the same reward.

Without thinking, I made it about the test. We printed out the assessment and started running Jet through it so we could do a live assessment for Marc before the end of the year. Weird things started happening. Jet acted fussy and snotty, sometimes downright RB, like we had never asked him to do such tasks before. All this did was frustrate me ("I'm no good at this!") and scare the hell out of me ("There's no way I can ride him if he's like this!"). I started researching ways to solve the new problems that came out of nowhere - tossing his head porcupining Zone 1, for example. That was corrected, but other issues remained. It's still hit-or-miss regarding when to reward for treats. He was starting his Cookie Monster routine all over again, not paying attention to anything but tearing Mommy apart for carrots, then moving onto Grammy if I refused.

There were some good things that were going on, however. Jet spent a full 45 minutes at the washrack standing like a perfect gentleman. AND he was an ANGEL for the farrier! Both Travis and I were in pleasant shock. That was a product of prior and proper preparation. A few days before, we ran Jet through a dress rehearsal in the barn, where I alternated between letting him hang out and sniff and eat whatever he wanted and playing some games like Yo-yo-ing him in and out of the barn, the stalls, squeeze games, friendly games. Mom simulated Tanis bashing his stall door, as he's known to do when he wants to be turned out, or if someone is in the barn not paying attention to him :-) until Jet stood in the barn aisle half asleep during the racket. On Farrier Day, I had Travis give him a peppermint to ensure Jet knew he was a friend, and asked him to trim Jet's back feet first since he is usually more compliant with those. During the process, I rubbed Jet's legs as much as I could, and fed him peppermints after each hoof was complete. A proud moment it was to tell Travis, "Now see, THIS is what my horse is really like. Just a sweet, gentle, good boy." He agreed, finally able to see I wasn't just blowing smoke when I raved about what a doll Jet is.

Travis also left Jet barefoot, which has now set my plans for some serious riding work back a good several months. His front hooves are improving more and more, but it was killing him to walk on the stones between his pasture and the arena. Thanks to support from the forum, Mom and I discovered the glory of Delta boots. We stick them on his hooves before taking him over the rocks and take them off when he's back on softer terrain. He never had an issue with the heavier, more awkward weight on his feet, and now struts proudly over the stones in his "sneakers."

But the pressure of having 7 Perfect Games nailed for the assessment was still an issue. It seemed as though anytime we brought him into the Parelli bushes, Jet was dragging more and more. His facial expressions were depressing. He still came and met us in his pasture but anything beyond Undemanding Time seemed torturesome. In between barn visits, I spent tons of time lurking on the Forum. One particular post, from the owner of an LBI, struck deep: "My horse didn't care until I gave him something to care about. This did not happen until Level 2."

A few days later, a beautiful thing happened. Jet let me come over and pet him while he was laying down. Ma was able to do the same thing. It was such an important message for me. Jet trusts us. Jet loves us. It made all the mistakes, frustrations and tears we went through with him all worth it. The whole moment had me re-evaluate what the real situation was. I was defining my whole PNH self-worth on Marc's nod and a red piece of yacht braid. Meanwhile, I wouldn't even be able to assess the riding part until the new assessment, and Marc has been so busy with other students, he hasn't even been able to make it to Shiloh since Dave's assessment. To make matters even more difficult, Jet was bored shitless. Play times were now work times, the 7 Games were turning into the 7 Tortures. And yet he let us be with him while he was laying down. Once again, I was foolishly focused on my own direct-line pressures instead of listening to my horse. And my horse was telling me, "I don't need a red string to ensure we've done it right. Why do you, if it's supposed to be about the relationship?"

So I've decided to suck it up and do an audition as according to the new assessment, at some point after the holidays when Marc is more available. Until then, we're moving on in our groundwork. Time to give Jet a reason to come greet us again, other than looking for his supplement bucket. And no more worrying if he understands the games as I try to communicate. If one gets broken, we'll fix it. And since then, as I repeat over and over to myself, "I know the games and Jet knows I know the games," Jet is interested, willing, and having fun again. This weekend, he leaped over fences, played Stick to Me, trotted figure eights and bravely squeezed between a scary tree and a fence to get to a new area of the ranch. We are both stumbling through him learning and me teaching him to pick up his brushes and hand them to me but having a blast playing "Pick it up and throw it around."

And our shining moment of the weekend: we brought him to the Sandbox of Doom, where he's known to throw some of his best fits. The sandbox is a 3-tiered hill Marc and Dave built, the highest part standing about 2 1/2 feet tall. Most of the horses will walk from the shortest to tallest level and step down from either the middle or lowest. I was standing on the highest level, just watching Jet mosey around and decide if he wanted to try anything. He had already trotted happily up and over the middle level and now I was just interested to see if he had anything else in mind. He scratched his nose on the woodpaneling that holds in the sand and lifted his leg a little. Then, with the utmost confidence, with no urging from me or Mom AT ALL, he hoisted his front half up onto the highest level and tossed his head proudly, ears straight up, as if to say, "I am ALL that is MAN!" Mom's and my jaws hit the ground in sheer delight. A few minutes later, Jet pulled himself all the way up, made a little circle, then bravely leaped the 2 1/2 feet down like he'd done it all his life.

I made sure to feed him a carrot that was the length of my ARM for that one. He looked like the happiest little Parelli horse pulling himself onto the sandbox like that. But most importantly was that he WAS happy playing Parelli today. And he was having FUN.

Circle Game, Take 2

Way in the depths of my last post, I mentioned how Mom had videotaped me circling Jet. Although Jet took it nicely, it wa pretty clear he was tuning me out because my body language was WRETCHED. I was acting more like a dictator than a partner. Frankly, I'm amazed how tolerant Jet became about that because he can really fall apart when he feels like he's under too much pressure. I guess he just figured it is what it is.

Another issue we were having in the Circling Game was asking Jet to trot. He continued, no matter how politely we asked, to throw raging shit fits, to put it diplomatically, before slouching off in an angry jog.

I could hardly wait to try Circling Game again to prove to Jet I am far nicer than I look on the Circle. In a perfect world, being more relaxed and trusting him to know the routine would ultimately cause the trotting issue to fix itself. But who knew? I had plans B, C, and D in the event that requesting the trot would cause mass hysteria.

Jet did a gorgeous back-up in the lightest of phases and waited politely for my next move. I got into send position, and emulating the attitude as best I could: "Step this way, please, and let me help you!"

As soon as he took the send, I dropped the rope. Of course, Jet came in, as I assumed he would. Until now, the only time I lessened the pressure on the rope was on the bring back. I assured Jet he wasn't wrong in coming back, sent him back out, and dropped my arm when he was back on the circle.

HE DID IT! HE DID IT! HE DID IT!

Not only did he IMMEDIATELY get the idea, but the expression in his eyes was bright, and I swear to God, RELIEVED. He let out a little whuff while he was walking like, "Praise God, she finally got it!" He had a spring in his step and seemed completely at ease. I brought him back after a couple of laps and he was praised with hugs, rubs and a carrot. NOW Jet was interested! Oh my, a carrot!

Set up for success...

I sent Jet back again after letting him rest for a moment and it felt like we had been doing perfect Circles for years. Basking in his reward AND relief, I picked up the CS, but did not raise it. I wanted to see just how subtle I could be. Most students and instructors advise us to not use our voices but Jet is extremely tuned in to the tone of my voice. My voice is very theatrical and my emotions are pretty clear when I speak, whether I like it or not. So I said, in my most upbeat and positive attitude, "Hey Jet, how about a trot?"

To which Jet replied, "You got it, Mommy!" He GLIDED into a most glorious trot. It was one of those moments where you want to drop to your knees and scream, "THANK YOU PAT!!! THANK YOU LINDA!!!" and promptly nominate them for sainthood.

It went on like that for the remainder of Play Time. Especially when he realized carrots were involved, he was the classic LBI: "I'll do anything for a carrot! Watch me do a backflip! Can I have a carrot?" When it was time to go back to the pasture, I bolted from the arena to see how well Jet would follow me. He always walks nicely at Liberty back home, so once again I wanted to up it a notch. I should have known - carrots were at stake! Jet trotted after me, but never went overboard. For the love of treats, he could have raced right up behind me, grabbed the bag with the carrots off my shoulder and trampled me without even meaning to. But once he caught up, he stayed a respectful distance. I've been playing Stick to Me and Yo-yo at liberty in his pasture - he HAS to work for treats. We learned the hard way that giving him treats just as a sign of love turns him into Cookie Monster. His trotting beside me and not trying to kill me for the bag told me it was working. We played some Stick to Me a little more once in the paddock, though I couldn't help making myself a hypocrit of my last statement and fed him ONE baby carrot "just because." It was time for us to be heading home, so we walked back to the Cherry Pie (lounge area) and Jet helped himself to some water. I turned around to take a last peak at him and he was looking with both eyes on me, ears pricked forward. I can only hope his thought process was somewhere along the lines of, "Wow, Mommy was actually kind of fun today!"

Perhaps we're more fun when we've got peppermints or carrots, but if Jet associates us with his hierarchy of needs (which for him, goes in the order of FOOD, comfort, food, food, play, food, safety, and food) and continues to put in such honest efforts in order to attain them, well, there's all the love right there I could ever ask for. I love seeing his eyes light up when he gets a treat for trying. Sometimes, and I am aware of this, he doesn't try all that hard, but when he realizes he gets something he loves for a small effort, his next effort is worlds larger. His fun is trying to get a treat. Some horses do it because they want to just play and play and play. Some horses do it because they want a job to do. Some horses do it because they want a treat. The important part is they do it because they want to. It isn't about the reason why. It's up to us to continue being provacative and motivating, yet comforting and assuring when Jet needs. With that, we should be able to live, love, and learn just fine.

Change of Seasons

Well, first the bad news. I got laid-off from my job. Occupational hazzard of living in a city who's sole survival depends on people's indulgence and luxuries. I have some leads, but it's bleak. The Strip is toxic at the moment with so few tourists able to visit us. Who knows when this awful situation will end, but it will someday, and the Strip will rise once more.



My one great escape is completely immersing myself in Parelli and spending more time with the one who matters most - Jet.



Before you all start worrying, "So you're out on the street, but what about Jet??" JET IS FINE (I repeat this over and over to myself every night). He's Ma's horse too, and I'm one lucky gal to have a mom who is lenient about debt and she is financially secure enough to handle the majority of Jet's expenses until I'm out of the woods. Amen. I'm not quite sure what either of us would do if we lost Jet. I personally would consider flinging myself off the top of the Stratosphere. Thank God for Mom. Thank God for Jet. Or else I would be seriously bored and panicking non-stop about the didly-shit economy. In order to keep myself sane, in between job hunting and keeping my ear pressed to the phone for the unemployment hotline, I keep thinking this is the time to REALLY accelerate in our journey. I could get a job tomorrow, I may not get employment for 6 months. Either which direction, I may never have an opportunity to be with Jet like this until I'm ready to retire, or wealthy enough to buy property that we both can live on.



When I saw Jet for the first time since my untimely lay-off, I buried my face in his neck and told him Mommy hit a bad patch but she would make it all better. That things were tight and it may reflect on my mood when I saw him (I swear, that horse picks up on an annoyance over stubbing my toe 8 hours earlier when I'VE supposedly forgotten about it, he's so sensitive to my emotions). But I was going to do everything in my power to ride this mess out and get myself back on track and someday we would never have to worry about a paycheck, or cringe everytime I swiped my credit card, or merely daydream about a course at Pagosa. That he was my everything, and Mom and I would never let anything happen to him.



I think he got the general idea. He blew snot on me and leaned his head against my chest and asked me to kiss his ears, like he always does when I need to cuddle him. Far more comforting than the words of support I'd received all week.

In better news, our Parelli instructor is back! 3* Marc Rea (*applause*), his wife Mary, and their equine partners, Lucy and Desi have stormed the valley once again, giving a bright side to the cold months ahead. The Hickey's hosted Parelli & Pizza night this past Friday. I was surprised to see how much PNH has influenced Shiloh since last February, which was when our clinic with Marc took place. We have met some new volunteers over the year who announced their decision to officially convert in the last month, which was THRILLING. Other familiar faces attended if nothing else with an open mind, always looking for more ways to become bonded to their horses. What more could you ask for than that?

Having someone so close again who studies directly with Pat and Linda has my brain wheels turning even faster. In the scorching heat of summer, with the local PP's far away, it's easier to get lost in the fog and start feeling like you're moving at a snail pace, maybe even wondering that you're regressing if you're a constant, unconfident worrier such as myself. Having Marc back is motivating and very exciting. Professional advice from one of Pat's protoges. I'm so nervous AND excited for him to meet Jet.

As for Jet himself, he's the same LBI we know and love. I learn new things about him as an individual every day and it's uncanny how similar he and I really are. Apparently, he knew what he was doing when he chose me.

Running with Pat's discussions of horses being pattern animals, I've gotten a pretty firm grasp of Jet's daily routine. He's fed between 8 and 830A. He rotates counter-clockwise from the hay alongside the neighboring paddock to the outside rail. It usually isn't until about 1130 (!) that he starts drifting away from his food. He and Blahnik will stand quietly and swat flies for each other for about an hour before Jet goes and looks for a snack. He'll nibble a little, then stand with Blahnik in one of 3 preferred areas of the pasture, then chase some other horses, stand with Blahnik, graze, walk around, repeat until about 330 when he's ready for major eating time again. By studying his routine, I've been able to plan my own ranch routine so that I can help Jill and Sally with stuff, and then be with my own horse during a time when he is more inclined to come out and play. Set-up for success, I suppose. The last few times I've come into the pasture after 11A with his halter, he's happily obliged without me having to compete with a particularly appealing pile of hay.

We have gotten stuck on one particular threshold recently and I am racking my brain with a few solutions as to how to correct the problem: asking Jet to trot. It seems as though no matter how politely we ask him to trot on the Circle or the OL Patterns (except for Sniff This), he bucks, rears, hops, farts, then stomps off in a huffy jog. His tantrums are far better than they were a few weeks ago, but you would think we were asking him to build an extension onto the barn without the benefit of a hammer and nails. We can't figure out if it's a driving issue, a friendly issue, or a staying-provacative issue.

We have figured out one key to our success and becoming lighter, better leaders in the Games - videotaping ourselves. If you have not done this before - START! There is so much more going on in your sessions than you realize, and things your horse is doing that you don't see until you can see the two of you from "a distance." It wasn't until I saw myself on the Circle with Jet that I had a major BFO: not only does my butt look good now that I've stopped eating meat, but I am a DRILL SERGEANT during that Game. From the waist down, I look neutral, but the whole time Jet's out, my back is fixed and my arm is hauled out in the direction I'm asking for in a permanant salute to Hitler. No wonder poor Jet is like, "Why me?" when we play Circle. My body language says, "You're going to circle and you're going to LIKE IT, God dammit!!!" Amazingly, Jet does a lovely circle at the walk in that clip. My only guess is I've asked him so harshly like that to circle for so long that by this video, he's actually just tuning me out. OooOOoops...

But now comes the fun part - figuring out how to make the Circle a game again and not a torture. Firstly is I need to LEAVE HIM ALONE after the send. I'm not trusting him enough to keep responsibility over himself on the Circle. So drop the rope and relax. When this happens, he will probably immediately disengage and come in. That's not him testing, he's only doing what I've unintentionally taught him. There will probably be a lot of, "Well, that was interesting!" moments when I try Circle, Take 2. But I'm hoping in the end, Jet will be relieved that I took so much pressure off, and the trotting thing will much improve. I KNEW Jet was trying to tell me something...

Then I crossed a threshold of my own in our last play session. I rode him! Bareback with a halter and lead. My heart was pounding, as memories of him taking off like Seabiscuit continually flashed through my mind. But as he stood quietly, with one leg cocked and his head low, I began to relax and felt confident enough to walk him around. To the un-Parelli'ed eye, it looked like I was just noodling around, not doing much of anything. And I really was just noodling, testing out some waters. After watching some sessions with Linda on the SC DVD's later, I realized that we are about at the point where I should just be practicing lateral flexion and becoming confident at the standing gait. But some FASCINATING things happened. Jet himself was licking and chewing like crazy.

It won't happen today, it may not happen in a year, but Jet is going to make an UNBELIEVABLE ride someday. Despite normal riding techniques, including the first 3 years of his life being a racehorse, he is somehow SUPER, SUPER light. When you're on his back, he is LISTENING. I was amazed at how sensitive and responsive he was to my rusty seat and even rustier legs.

When I took Jet on the initial test run that was ultimately the deciding factor in the question of adopting him, I was told he didn't steer well and he was hard on the bit from the track. I watched him trot on the rail with his head up in the air, teeth bared, and rolling his tongue like he was being choked. This was in an egg-butt, rubber snaffle. When I got on him, I held onto his mane more so than the reins and his head immediately dropped and he had no issues on the bit. I realized immediately, hardly knowing him at that point, that he had a velvet mouth and preferred to keep it that way.

Six months later, with no bit to call my own, he was proving in every which way that yes, we WOULD ride bareback and bridleless one day and wow the crowds at the ranch. The horse that "couldn't steer?" All I did was look, smile, and squeeze a cheek. No leg. No heel. He turned. I looked somewhere around his ears and mane. He stopped. I sucked in all my air, pulled my bullhorn waaayy back. He backed up. I never used my hands once to make him turn. The only reason I was holding on to the lead rope was so he wouldn't trip over it. And to bend him. His neck was a little stiffer than I was hoping, but I also realized watching Linda later that I wasn't lifting my hands correctly. We'll work a little more on the ground.

The whole ride lasted no more than 20 minutes but it was thrilling. If he's that light and sensitive now, I'd like to first think Mom and I had a little something to do with that from all the groundwork. And also, just imagine how he will be in a year, two years, TEN years. My ultimate goals for Jet occupy a good 90% of my daily daydreams. Judging by how he moves and performs, when he wants to, his athleticism (nevermind his hay belly!), and his general disposition, I think he's got it in him to be a Superhorse. He's herded horses for me, he does rollbacks, sliding stops, jumps...there's hardly anything he can't do. He's too big and lanky to really bend ideally around a barrel, maybe that's it, but I'm not interested in barrel racing or basically any form of competition. I want to learn dressage and do some light jumping, fool around on our future Parelli playground...and I want to do it all with him wearing nothing but a savvy string at the most. I don't think those goals are out of reach. Far off, yes, but certainly not impossible. More than anything, and I'm definitely not alone in thinking this, I want that ultimate unity. I want to be the perfect partner for him. I want him to be my Remmer, my Magic.

I can't think of anything else to write ("Thank God!" some of you are thinking). I'm at that loss again that only Jet can cause :-) That crazy horse will never quite know just how much I love him; that he is my everything. And that everything we've done so far is still only just the beginning.

Read Me

I've been a blog slacker (BAD blogger, BAD!) because things with Jet have been moving so smoothly, I almost felt like I was going to make my faithful readers barf with one more line of, "Another WONDERFUL session!" Unless I had something damn interesting to say to back it up. Not to mention Jill and Sally were out of town for 2 weeks, so Mom and I were concentrating a lot on trying to help out with barn maintenance.

As our journey as Jet's Mom and Grandma continues, he continues to fascinate me. While Mom was in Cabo for a week and I actually had THREE days off from work (after working 10 days straight with NO day off and didn't see Jet that whole time and actually broke down and cried in my office because I missed him so much), I spent them all at the ranch. Those days I was not at Shiloh, I spent every moment I was not at work either on the forum, or reading articles, completely immersing myself in Parelli teachings. By the time I was able to be with my boy, my brain was functioning as it never has in terms of horsemanship. Somewhere along the line, I stopped worrying so much about whether I was holding my carrot stick right, or phasing lightly enough, or holding the rope correctly. Those all factor into success, of course, but I realized that focusing more into Jet, and anything he was trying to tell me, then balanced out my concentration on how to effectively communicate back to him.

An example: he and I were standing in his pasture and I had been scratching his shoulder while he grazed, when he randomly abandoned his hay and walked to the middle of the field, positioning himself so that he was looking out at the "Parelli bushes" (where Ma and I prefer to play the games). I joined him and continued loving on him, in La-La land, when the question racked my brain: "Does he want to go in there?" Couldn't be. I even asked him, "Do you want to come out and play?" He continued staring out at the field, blinking, swishing his tail, until finally he decided to go back to the hay. I felt the message, "Fine, if we're not going anywhere, I'll just stuff my face." I ran and got his halter and decided, "If he does that again, we're going to the arena." He was eating and not too interested in me. I stood casually, looking around, and just waited. And then...he was there. Caught me, and stuck his nose right in when I opened up his halter. We had a FLAWLESS Patterns session.

I was quite proud of me. I had some very savvy moments. I'm slowly getting the hang of when it is appropriate to give Jets treats as an incentive (just one, in between scratches for other successes, for a real BIG success) so that he is interested in doing stuff, not wrestling me to the ground for the rest of the carrots. Jet also made some great progess with squeezing with a barrel. He didn't try to jump it, BUT:
He put his nose on it.
He rolled it an inch with his foot.
He squeezed between the barrel and the fence with no isues at all.
He squeezed between me and the barrel with no issues at all.
As we know with the LBI's, we take what we can get in small increments. I was thrilled just with the expression on his face as he squeezed around the obstacle. Both eyes were on me, ears forward. Standardly, Jet performs the games well, licks and chews, and appreciates the big reward of letting him do nothing when he's done well. This session, he was REALLY trying, putting in an honest effort, and completely engaged. I was flying high the entire rest of the day. He was just a doll. The horse that showed up that day was a total scholarly delight.

It continued like that through several more sessions over these last few weeks. Then yesterday, Mom and I decided to take him into the bushes for some weave and F8 work at the trot. We've arrived at that point - time to ask for a little more from him. Get some more life into him. He knows the F8 so well now, he falls asleep walking it.

Immediately I could tell that the angelic horse I had the week before was no where to be found. Jet wasn't in a bad mood by any means - he just decided that HE wanted to be the alpha this time. And when Jet gets it into his thick skull that he's the boss, he's...well...he's just a complete asshole.

Up until this point, this has scared the bejeezus (or as Mom and I like to call it, the Big Cheeses) out of us. He's an enormous horse, and he's so athletic and hot-blooded (this is what I wanted from the time I was 9 years old), when he gets riled up, he just gets possessed by the spirit of his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandsire, Man O' War. We're afraid for a few reasons. Afraid if we up our energy and phase 4 him, he'll get WORSE. Afraid he'll get mad at us and hate us for life. Afraid he'll kill us. You know, silly stuff like that.

So, Mom asked him lightly, politely, and very gently (the Jet way) to trot the weave. Apparently, he's so sensitive we need only THINK of asking him to trot because he shot off like a bat out of hell. Reared, bucked, farted, then broke into a trot fit for the track with a sour puss on his face. I hated his expression, but I was not the one with the CS or holding the leadrope this time. Mom was just happy he was trotting. When he broke gait and Mom merely clucked to remind him please don't break gait until I ask, he jumped taller than I've ever seen him do, did some sort of Lippizzan spin and kick out with both legs. Aimed RIGHT at Mom. Had she not been on the end of the 22, and was my height, he WOULD have killed her. It was inexcusable.
I still have thresholds with P4, but NO ONE messes with mi madre. I don't think he was TRYING to hurt her, but he sure wasn't showing any respect. Yet, I was not angry. I didn't want to punish him. I'm realizing in many ways, over and over, that punishment just does NOTHING. But backing up does. A big normie gripe with Parelli is that all we ever do is make horses back up, but watching the herd dynamics in his pasture, I have come to the conclusion that backing up has way more an effect on horses, particularly the dominant ones, than us humans can really fathom. He who backs up is the loser. And BOY did I phase 4. I was ready to back the boy into Pahrump if that's what it took for him to realize, "Shit, they really ARE the alpha mares." I said in my best Linda tone, "Wipe that look off your face!" As soon as Jet gave me both ears and eyes, I dropped the rope, smiled, let him think about it, turned around, and led him back to the cones. He wasn't going to get rubbed, because rubs are rewards for him. But I figured turning my back and putting the pressure off once he had a moment to think would be enough to assure him, "I'm not going to ever punish you, but we will NOT tolerate this behavior." I said to Mom, "I'm willing to bet now he'll offer you a gorgeous, light trot now."

Guess what?

However, it didn't mean he was a saint for the rest of the session. Or during his bath. No. Mom had to P4 him just as I did, tell him to wipe off his smirk, the whole nine yards. By the time he started doing his Ben Vereen act at the washrack, we were starting to run out of ideas. We were filthy, exhausted and reaching the end of our rope with his endless testing. Someone on the forum once mentioned it was important to leave an LBI first after you removed the halter. I have been determined to put that to the test. In the pasture, if Jet leaves before I do, I go and get him to come to me, then I leave before he has a chance to leave again. It's had a positive effect. Until this day, yesterday, he really was acting more respectful. But the old saying goes, you address the horse that shows up.

He was fairly well behaved when we got him back to the field, then I just BOLTED once his halter came off. I glanced back as I headed to the barn, and he was already buried in hay, sulking, as he always does when he loses a dominance game. And people wonder why my username is Spoiled Rotten Savvy. We purposely did not return to see him after that. We wanted to give him all the time in the world to process everything that had gone on.

On days like this, I have always been devestated for the rest of the day. Thoroughly convinced the horse hates me and I've completely destroyed the bond we've ALL worked so hard at creating. This time, my mind was calm. I felt our reinforcements and promises were the right things to do at the appropriate times.

But that didn't stop me from still being a basket case that I was on an ego. The real test would be today, when we returned to the pasture. It's always the next day, not the immediate aftermath. If he came to us, everything was fine. If he ran to the opposite corner, Mom and I had some major licking and chewing to do.

A friend I hadn't seen in awhile showed up to Shiloh. He hadn't met Jet yet, so I took him to the pasture to introduce him. We slipped between the fence, and the movement in the otherwise still paddock was sparked his curiosity enough to walk over and investigate. When he saw it was me, he whinnied.

He WHINNIED.

WHINNIED!!!!

A minute later, his head was in my arms.

A Tribute to Shiloh

Dave, Deonna and crew hosted a Shiloh BBQ last week that was an absolute blast! The ladies wore make-up and the guys brushed their hair - but you know we all would have been more comfortable in our paddock boots and cowboy hats!

Ma and me, or as Jet knows us: Grammy and Mommy.

Ah, who am I kidding? He knows us as Human Who Spoils Me and Human Who Spoils Me More.

Dave, a great Parelli-ite to have around when we get majorly stuck! Check out his blog on my list (Rookie and Numerous) and see how far he's come!

Deonna (left), THE BOSS, and Shiloh's best photographer, and Sharil, who adopted pretty Paint, Cochise (who was found wandering around a Las Vegas neighborhood!), and Borego, an OTTB thoroughly enjoying his retirement.

Sharil and Sally. Sally is Jill's mother, aka my OTHER personal hero.

Jill wasn't able to make it, but she was there in spirit, plus we vowed to hog-tie her to the hood of the car if necessary so she could be at the next BBQ on the 17th!

As I drove to work later that night, not caring that by 5am my legs would be cramping from exhaustion from being up so long, I got to thinking of how unbelievable of a place Shiloh truly is and how much the ranch has taught me.

Thanks to Shiloh, I've learned so much about the good, the bad, and the ugly of the horse world, and I soak up every bit of it as much as I can. Shiloh is a world in itself, a world that works tirelessly for the rights of those who cannot speak for themselves. It's a place where blood, sweat, and tears are put into caring for horses that so many no longer wanted, and trying to prove to those horses in every way that can be thought of that they are loved HERE, and HERE at Shiloh, they are valuable and welcome. Jill and Sally come up 7 days a week in the blazing summers, during the face-ripping winds of winter, in thunderstorms and flawless, sunny days with smiles on their faces and determination in their hearts. They welcome all new visitors and volunteers with warmth, always ready to answer any question, never making you feel like a fool, and somehow know the stories behind each and every one of the 160 animals that rule the 40 acres of desert Shiloh sits on. They put together a basic horsemanship class so that even someone with no experience can learn the basic fundamentals of safety and enjoy the horses. Sally and Jill travel all over the country in the plight to end horse slaughter, bid against killer buyers at auction to bring home horses that later become adopted, proving to the skeptical time and time again that horses on feedlots are NOT always the broken and dying, but more often than not the vibrant and sound, who would make for someone the ultimate trail plodder or roper or jumper.

And then there are the volunteers. Some of us study Parelli, some of us follow Clinton Anderson, we may be traditional English riders, or we may be die-hard Western riders - it just doesn't matter. It's not about our preferred training methods. It's about the horses. It's about providing for horses that no one wanted. It's about keeping them healthy, safe, and happy. Every volunteer and visitor is appreciated - Jill and Sally thank everyone over and over. For me personally, thanks is not deserved. I don't do nearly enough, and I'm not up there nearly as often as I wish I could be. Even on the days where we just give Jet a carrot and pat on the nose so we can dedicate our time to the other horses still looking for their forever homes, I feel like I should have done more that day. And yet, there is no attitude of who-did-what, who-did-more, who-did-nothing between the girls nor the volunteers. Shiloh is MY sanctuary as much as it is for the horses. One of the reasons I love being there the most is because it's a reminder of how GOOD people can be. Shiloh is proof that there are people out there who don't do it for money, glory, power, or fame. They do it because they love it. Because the real satisfaction comes from something as simple as fixing a faulty gate to something as huge as bonding with a horse who becomes your best friend for life. The satisfaction comes from doing something nice. Knowing you helped a horse (or a person) that day. Shiloh reminds me that the world isn't COMPLETELY full of corruption, greed or daggers.

When I daydreamed about moving to Vegas and getting back into horses, I never expected that I would become so committed to a rescue. But I am most thankful to be a part, however small, of such a valiant effort. It always sits in the back of my mind that too many of the animals up here arrived because no one cared what happened to them. Because I can't imagine my life without them.

Better, better and better

Another wonderful session! Three in a row!

I'm going to have to vote on the side of YAYE for the Patterns drastically improving my relationship with my horse. He was mouthy and playful with the cones today and with this being the 4th session, it's time to start thinking about explanding it a little. Maybe one more and we can up the ante a bit. He seemed to be making his own fun picking up the cones and throwing them around.

But remember, we can't push him TOO hard or else he has a mental meltdown. Sigh.

What I love most about the Patterns is how even in the L1 Online games, the most basic of the new program, the constant movement and change of direction keeps the horse THINKING. I noticed it the very first time we introduced him to the F8. Even in moments where he wanted to go RB, or get snotty, I could see the wheels turning in his head: "I'm gonna give those girls a what-for! But first I have to make this turn! ...Alright, NOW I'm - oh, wait, gotta turn again...eh, nevermind, I'm over it."

Hence tossing the cones every where, it probably would have been more fun for Jet had we set-up a whole Sniff This course. I tried to make up for it by deciding, "Ok, you want to smell every turd in this arena? Let's trot to them then!"

He LOVED that game! Once he realized I was always taking him to a new manure pile, he was trotting merrily with me, even gave a few sliding stops.

I got a new camera so I taped Mom bending and doing F8's. As soon as I figure out how to make the video show up on the computer, and put together a smart slide show for all the new pictures I took, I will immediately post notices here and on the Forum :0). There is one fabulous moment during one of the F8's were Jet gets cranky about being sent out again and starts pawing and backing up. Rather than matching his energy, Mom's whole body closes down and she drops all the tension. Jet lowers his head, licks his lips. Mom asks for the send again and Jet continues on like a perfect gentleman.

And then we tried the Circling Game. We had dropped that game for most of the summer because Jet thought we were lunging him, and we figured we had to go back to square one. Apparently, a core game, or several, wasn't strong enough. But I'm pleased to announce that we had no broken core games today because we got the OTHER side of the spectrum for his first circle in months: lazy, sniffing the ground. No, it's no more ideal a circle as a panicked, tearing around in a sweaty frenzied one. But for the two of us, we can improve on laziness far better than panic. I suppose it's a threshold of our own with the Circling Game. So in that sense, we were QUITE pleased with his state of mind this time.

Of course, no day at the ranch is complete without Jet doing something on his own that completely thrills us. Mom, Jill, Sally and I all went into his pasture to put a blanket on Angel, a VERY skittish, snooty mare who has no hair due to severe allergies. We managed to get the blanket on her without a hitch. My back as turned for a moment while I was looking for a halter, and when I came back, Jet was at the gate. I patted his nose and Jill was laughing, "Geez Jet, you startled me!"

"What did he do?" I asked.

"Well, he was all the way in the corner when we came in, and then all of a sudden he was tearing over here at full speed when he saw you. It was so fast."

Of course the day Jet actually RUNS to say hello, I miss it! But an eye witness is the next best thing.

Sometimes I feel like this blog is a cop-out because words can't describe how wonderful of a horse Jet is becoming. Nor can they seem to describe how amazing studying Parelli is and how it's changing everything. I've always been able to write about anything, able to paint pictures with my words and put people right at the scene with me. Writing has always come easiest. Jet is the only thing in the world that I struggle to write about because there is so much about him and so many thoughts and hopes I have for us, I don't even know where to begin. I thank all of you so much for your support and wonderful words of encouragement on this blog AND the forum. I think we can all agree that writing about our journies detail by detail just doesn't hold a torch to actually being there and experiencing it, and what we're REALLY feeling inside!

The Next Phase

Day 2 of the Patterns. We were extremely anxious to see how Jet would take to the F8, because after all, the second time is the hardest.

It went GREAT!

For my F8 in particular, it was one of the first times I tried REALLY hard to concentrate solely on my communication. It wasn't about the figure eight, it was about me giving the right cues. On the drawback, just like in Yo-Yo, I kept my expression soft and friendly, combing the rope to bring him in, then fed him lots of rope when I drove him away. The more slack and less tension in the rope he had, the easier a time he had in walking around the cone. It all made even more sense than yesterday.

He offered a much lighter sidepass than yesterday as well, then I tried his first-ever Squeeze Game. No obstacle yet, just pushing him between me and the fence. He did it correctly, but of course didn't know it, so we left it alone and dropped the whole game for the day so he could think about it. While he was doing that, Mom and I were discussing his future and possibly trying for the old assessment since he's progressing so quickly and calmly (AMEN, off-season!).

"The only thing is," Mom said, "We can't do pushing passenger yet."

Ah, yes. The riding thing. The last time I rode Jet, it was a disaster. My own fault, really. He wasn't giving me permission. I got on him, but he ran off. Luckily, he stopped when he got to the end of the rail, which was just enough time for me to practice my emergency dismount. I haven't ridden him since. The ride could have gone a lot worse but I lost my confidence a little bit and dropped the idea of riding for awhile. I didn't even concieve of the idea that he would give me permission again anytime soon.

Although people inevitably asking me why I don't ride is a little bothersome, I have never really had an issue with losing my nerve. Normies often think that Parelli people don't ride. That's not the case (and if you ARE a Parelli student who has no intention of riding, that's no one's business but your own. It's your horse and you're doing what's best for both of you. Cheers). I LOVE to ride. I daydream constantly about galloping Jet across the desert, learning dressage on him, doing light jumping, learning slide stops, cantering him around the arena bareback and bridleless...I watch the other boarders, Jill, and Elisa, the trainer, ride and I get wistful. I'm DYING to ride, I've been missing it. But Jet and I have other things to take care of on the ground before I can think about riding again. And just like his groundwork, it has to come in baby steps.

But I DID not expect that when Mom mentioned pushing passenger and I said, "Well, first we're going to have to practice the standing gait," that I would glance over at Jet and his eyes would meet with mine, and clear as day, I heard a message direct from him, "It's time to think about riding again."

I know I sound COMPLETELY insane. Logically, and to avoid warped stares, I could say I felt brave enough to start thinking about preparing to ride. But that's not what happened. It was a message. And I felt it come FROM Jet. It's not the first time it's happened.

How can you say I'm delusional when Mom brought over the mounting block, let Jet sniff it, then put it beside him and he didn't budge?

No, of course I didn't run over to the tack shed and grab all his gear. A few months ago, I sure would have. He would be LB enough once in awhile to tolerate that, but Parelli and Jet are teaching me the art of patience in ways I never thought possible. My new favorite motto has become "slow and right beats fast and wrong." Even preparing for riding, though I have been tacking and getting leg ups for my whole life and naturally (normally?) want to do that after glorious groundwork, must be taken in small increments.

Mom went first, since she has never even sat on Jet's back. I think, even though he was half asleep while she stood up there and just rubbed his neck, she was a little intimidated. Jet is a 16.2 hand BEAST with a long, beautiful giraffe neck and she is barely 5'1." However, when I said, "But doesn't the ranch look AWESOME from between his ears?" I could see the years she spent loving riding come back. Her smile said it all.

All we did was lean over his back and rub him all over. I swung my leg up a few times, but never actually sat on him. Instead I mainly laid myself over him. A few times he glanced back. I just waved and continued petting him. As his tail swished lazily, his left leg cocked in relaxation, I could feel his appreciation. "Thanks so much for being so polite." Yes, he was giving permission to Friendly Game myself on his back.

Could I have thrown my saddle or bareback pad on him and taken him for a little spin? Possibly. Would he have been LB and walked calmly? Maybe. But this little moment, which lasted no more than 30 minutes, was huge for both of us. A direct-line-thinking human naturally wants to just jump up and ride. That's the only form of riding prep a former racehorse like Jet has ever known. It's obvious he wished it wasn't always done like that. I felt bad because I too had done that with him. How thrilling that today all was forgiven and JET wanted ME to start trying again. This time, it will be the natural way.