Bringing Rose Back Into Work
/To say I’ve been surprised by how difficult it has been to bring my Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose back into work would be an understatement. Previously she had taken me on lovely trail rides, packed loads in panniers, worked in harness moving manure, and begun to pull a cart. Then I gave her a few years off to be a broodmare. I began to bring her back into work slowly, I thought, by taking a short ride and then each day adding a little more distance. All went well for a few days. Then one day she absolutely refused to let me ride her down the road, one that she had happily taken me down a few days before. I was both frustrated and confused. And these feelings of frustration and confusion continued when day after day, my various strategies that previously had been successful couldn’t convince her to go down that road again.
To her credit, she didn’t buck, rear, or bolt. Her favored expression was reverse gear which she could do remarkably ably, quickly, and on cue – whenever I asked her to go forward! Rarely would she let me make up lost ground. I set up the round pen to see if there was something broken in our basic relationship. Nothing there. I tried hand-walking her over the offending ground. I tried backing her up the road on-line. I tried circling her on-line, moving up the road with each revolution. She made it clear she wasn’t afraid, she was just determined not to go under saddle. That’s when I contacted my friend Eddie.
Eddie has a Fell Pony mare who will do anything for him; she is as sassy as they come but Eddie is her match. Recently, at their combined age of 97, he brought her out of retirement to harrow the arena at the barn where she is stabled. Eddie often tells me stories about other people at the stable asking for his assistance when they are having trouble with their mounts. One story stuck in my head, and when I told Eddie about my problems with Rose, he agreed it was the right teaching story to recount. A big warmblood was suddenly refusing to go through a gate out of the yard that previously he had been more than willing to pass through. His rider had tried all manner of strategies, all without success. The gelding wasn’t scared; he’d just decided that his idea about the gate was better than his human’s. Eddie worked with the young woman on a plan, advising her to be prepared because the horse might buck, rear, or bolt. The plan was for Eddie to be stationed just before the gate with a long-handled heavy plastic scoop shovel in hand. As the warmblood and his mount came to the gate, the big boy as usual refused, and Eddie swatted him on the rear with the shovel. Through the gate horse and rider quickly went! The next day Eddie was again stationed in the same spot, and when the horse saw him, it was clear that he pondered refusing but thought better of it and went through the gate. The horse is back to compliantly going through the gate without Eddie’s motivating presence. He just needed convincing that perhaps his idea about the gate wasn’t the right one after all.
Eddie lives thousands of miles from me, so I had to figure out how to set up a similar lesson for Rose that I could execute alone. I did figure it out, and I was absolutely amazed how this one simple thing changed our relationship.
In the final chapter of the book Kinship with All Life, a friend of the author’s wants to experience the same degree of connection with one of the author’s animal friends as the author has. It doesn’t go well at first. The visitor has all kinds of preconceived notions about how things should go between a human and the animal’s kind, and the animal knows this instantly and chooses not to interact with the visitor. Then, after much coaching from the author, the visitor changes his mental approach and comes to the animal in this new frame of mind. Instantly it is clear to all present that the visitor has succeeded in achieving his goal of connection.
My work with Rose continues to progress. Every day I find new ways to come to our work that acknowledges her role in our relationship and mine. She’s made it clear it’s not about leader and follower. She just needs me to be the best version of myself I can be. Challenging, yes, but hard to argue with!
© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020
More stories about partnering with my Fell Ponies can be found in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.
