Well, That was Different!

Taking my Fell Pony foals with their dams to the river has become a fall ritual since I moved to South Dakota. In Colorado, there was a river in their summer pasture, so the foals got used to crossing water by following the herd to graze. Here, we don’t have live water in their pasture, so it’s a 30-minute trailer ride to the Cheyenne River. I time it in the fall so the water is low for a safe crossing and the road is dry, since we have a mile or so of dirt access. Catching the fall foliage is a bonus! It has become such a fun ritual that my friend Jackie likes to accompany us regularly, which is a blessing because she takes great photographs!

Rory followed us for a bit but then headed off the other direction. Photos by Jackie Gericke

So far, the trips to the river have followed a consistent pattern. I’ve already accustomed the foals to riding in the trailer with their mothers, so they have loaded into the trailer without much issue. Then they unload at the river and follow them to the river’s edge, then after some contemplation, they follow them into the water. We go back and forth across the river several times until they seem relaxed about it, then we reverse the process, walking to the trailer, loading, and returning home. Foal #5, though, was a different experience!

Willowtrail Rory loaded up with his mother Bowthorne Matty without any indication of the strangeness ahead of us. He unloaded fine, too, and followed her for a short bit towards the place where we cross the river. But then he turned around as if he’d passed some choice morsel he just had to go back to eat. I walked Matty toward him to encourage him to join us, but he calmly just walked further away. So we went back to the river and stood in the center. Usually a foal will get worried and come to the river’s edge to be close to their mom, but not Rory. He walked even further away, seeming to explore the new environment that he found himself in. He would occasionally get concerned and call out to us, but he was uninterested in joining us or even coming close.

Matty and I in the river waiting for Rory to join us. Photo by Jackie Gericke

After fifteen or more minutes, it became clear that having Rory cross the river that day was not meant to be. So the next step in the outing was to get back in the trailer and go home. Rory, though, had other thoughts about this, too. We spent another twenty or more minutes with me leading Matty toward him to get him to follow her back to the trailer. Then Jackie took Matty and stood near the trailer, and I tried herding Rory toward the trailer (his leading skills weren’t good enough for this situation yet). He still was uninterested in following his mother into the trailer. Then Jackie had the great idea of moving the trailer near a pile of brush that could act as a corral panel. I felt like we were in the Old West as I placed more brush strategically to create a chute of sorts. On the second try, Rory decided that getting in the trailer with his mom was an acceptable alternative to wandering around with me following him. We closed the trailer door with a heavy sigh.

I was so thankful for Jackie’s peacefulness with this time-consuming and unusual outing. It was clear Matty was quite content in Jackie’s company while we waited for Rory to be cooperative. Right before we got in the truck to come home, Jackie said, “It’s in trying times that one’s true horsemanship is revealed and you find out if you want to work with that person or not.” Very true, I thought. She then continued, “And I want to work with you, Jenifer.” It was such a blessing to hear that then.

On the drive back, I pondered what had happened with Rory at the river. I concluded that some genetics were at work. His paternal half-sister took a long time to cross the river with her mother last year. And his maternal half-brother had a similar but more stressful experience back in Colorado. In that case, Matty went across the river and her son didn’t follow. He was stressed out, and she was enjoying green grass. I watched for ten minutes, and neither of them appeared able to modify their behavior, so I reunited them and put them in a pasture without the river. The next day Matty and her son crossed the river together.

Rory back at the barn. Photo by Jackie Gericke

I doubt we’ll have an opportunity for a do-over at the river for Rory this fall. The weather is about to change dramatically which will likely end our river outings until next year. Rory will soon be well halter-broke so he can be introduced to water crossings at the side of a human partner rather than his mother. He’s a sensible young man, so I’m sure it will go fine. And next time Matty has a foal, I will allow for multiple trips to the river if necessary!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Barn Work

I love this time of year. My chore load has transitioned away from foal care. My mares and youngstock are on their hill pasture continuously. The herd meets me at the barn in the morning. And now that the temperatures have dropped and flies are no longer distractions, we are all happier and able to engage more productively.

On a recent edition of Warwick Schiller’s podcast Journey On, I listened to Warwick interviewing Carolyn Resnick, creator of the Water Hole Ritual and author of Naked Liberty. After listening to the podcast, I appreciated Carolyn’s perspective about horses even more than I did before, in part because she shared that she has maintained the perspective of a child throughout her long life. Every time she approaches an equine, she does it with no expectations and lots of observation. She shared a story about her first horse whom she began with at three years old. Strawberry I think was its name, and it was an aged babysitter but also with enough go to keep her interested. He would do anything for her and was as near to perfect as a horse could be for a person her age. Later she met an American Saddlebred stallion whom she was told to stay away from by his handler because he was so mean. She spent time sitting outside his stall, and in time he became less mean and more willing to engage, teaching her that there’s a Strawberry inside every horse. She concluded this part of her story by saying that bringing out the Strawberry in every horse she meets is always her goal. This time of year for me is magical because it’s about continuing the process of bringing out the Strawberry in each of my ponies.

Given Carolyn’s focus on liberty work, I was surprised to hear her say that all the best horsemen she knew had their horses standing tied during the process of developing them. She said it without judgment, and I expected to hear her then say something like, “But I choose to do things differently.” But instead she said that standing tied is indeed an important part of the process. The reason? It’s the only time that equines get to stand around doing nothing with tack on. It’s a chance for them to get used to having things on their bodies without other things going on. It’s a chance for them to get comfortable with that before more is asked of them. Standing tied is a part of this time of year with my ponies. I think it’s an important step in mentally conditioning my ponies for eventual work, a beginning step in instilling a working mindset in them. (For more on working mindset, click here.)

Carolyn and Warwick talked about the dangers of “trainer’s mind.” They mean we can have our own agenda and often forget to see what state of mind and body our equine is in. Another of Warwick’s guests was a very accomplished dressage rider. She has staff at her barn, and people often think they are there to do the ‘barn work’ of brushing, picking feet, leading from place to place, and tacking up. But she said she would rather do all that work and have her staff do the riding because it was doing that ‘barn work’ that let her see where the equine was at mentally and physically so she could set them up for success under saddle when that time came. ‘Barn work’ is very important to me for exactly the reasons this woman stated. Before I can have peace in my day, I need to know that my ponies are well. Meeting them at the barn in the morning, witnessing their behavior and interactions, and handling them briefly provides me the information I need to go forth into my non-pony day. This time of year with its beautiful weather is ideal for long ‘barn work’ sessions that my ponies seem to look forward to as much as I do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find similar stories in my book The Partnered Pony: What’s Possible, Practical, and Powerful with Small Equines, available by clicking here or on the book cover.

Crossing the ‘Stream’ and Other Small Lessons

One of the challenges of being a Fell Pony breeder is figuring out how to fit riding and driving training into the reproductive schedules of my mares and my related workload. Sometimes, of course, mares have years when they are open, so there’s plenty of opportunity then. But when they are bred or have foals at foot, my answer is often to do things in small, frequent doses. For instance, recently when the days have been incredibly short in December and the weather has been unusually pleasant and warm, I have been looking for excuses to be outdoors. So, I’ve been taking a few minutes with each mare to do something each morning when I have them in the paddocks at the barn.

In my experience, there’s always something small to be worked on, even if I don’t know what it is in advance. Just preparing to mount and mounting often gives me an idea, such as reminding one of my girls about the importance of standing still during mounting. Or once underway, I need to remind a mare to maintain the particular gait I’ve asked for. In one mare, turning as we approached the paddock fence revealed a braced neck, so we’re working on that. Improving responses to leg aids is another one that has come up since one mare is very good in that department and the others not so much by comparison.

One morning we’d had a light snow, which is all we are getting right now in our drought. Runoff from the barn roof after the sun warmed things up created a very small ‘stream’ through the paddock. I didn’t think anything of it until I was riding one of my mares, and she stopped at the edge. I realized I had never ridden her through water before; our ridden work had not progressed that far back when we had regular access to live water for such lessons in Colorado. So my work with her that morning became learning to carry me across the ‘stream,’ though it wasn’t really much more than wet soft ground. Nonetheless, she refused just like equines will sometimes do when asked to cross water, so it was a good opportunity to carry out an important lesson.

One short lesson is nice, but stringing small lessons together over multiple days is even better. And with six fillies/mares, the total time is a good match for my schedule. As is always the case when working with ponies, consistent, purposeful attention makes for rewarding progress.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2020

More stories like this one can be found in my book The Partnered Pony, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.