A little bit more.

Several months passed with hardly any glitches. Promise’s schooling was going well. Her lunging improved steadily every time I worked her. She was really getting it, and really showing her trust in me. She was so willing to please.

That first winter, we moved into a barn about 20 minutes from my house. We basically took over the “lower” barn on the property with my trainer’s horses, down the hill from the two main barns and arenas. We had the largest turnout on the property designated to us, and all of the horses got turned out together in the herd they’d become accustomed to while they were at the place with the llamas and minis.

But, it was about this time that Promise and I started having some problems.

There was a gelding in the group who thought (falsely, because he was incredibly fugly) that he was still a stud. He had a thing for Promise and it seemed like he was constantly trying to mount her in the paddock. It was incredibly annoying. She was quick to put him in his place each time. But, it didn’t stop him for long.

She was about 4. She was a mare (I know I can leave that at that!) – and, I’m pretty sure, equivalent to about a 14 or 16 year old in human years? She’d started going into heat more regularly (she’d been kind of wacky up till then in her cycles). She was starting to get comfortable enough with me to really voice her opinions when she didn’t feel like doing something. She was having some pretty hefty temper tantrums from time to time. For the most part, the worst of it was shaking her head and trying to wrench the reins from me. Occasionally, she resorted to bucking.

By the time spring was rolling around, Promise had become pretty herd bound. She would get the entire group of horses running at a full gallop (uh, alpha mare anyone?) to avoid getting caught. Too bad I refused to chase her, and ruined her game. I would bring a handful of mints or grain, but she didn’t get any until she had a lead attached to her, and her fat butt was out of the gate, where she couldn’t pull anything stupid to get back to her buddies. Then, of course, once we got inside to tack up, she’d be a whole different level of stupid – then the pawing and dancing would start.

My trainer suggested I hold a dressage whip while I groomed and tacked up, and if she pawed, tap that leg and tell her to quit. I tried it, but it seemed to only work if I had the whip in my hand – even after weeks of doing it…every…single…time…she moved her foot…you would think I should have been able to wean her from the whip and the word to just the word. Nope. And I was riding or working her on the ground 4-5 times a week (by this point, we’d taught her to long line/drive for a change of pace if I wasn’t riding), so it’s not like she wasn’t getting reprimanded often enough.

Not to mention the fact that correcting the dancing from side to side on the cross ties with a dressage whip wasn’t working. She had been taught, for all intensive purposes, to move away from a tap, a squeeze, a cluck and so on. So, asking her to stop moving with the whip was counterproductive – it was the opposite of the move on, give more impulsion, etc. that she’d been taught up until that point. And, I think it was too much for her brain to handle to sort the two out, at that time.

Anyway. For the dancing problem, I started with the whip, and then when that didn’t work, I migrated to the shank, and a sharp correction and “stand up” every time she started dancing. The shank worked, but got her a bit agitated, even with a quick release and praise for standing still.

So, I ended up using reverse psychology to a point – when she moved, I asked her to move over (hey, no better time to teach moving over without touching her, which she does perfectly now – whatever side I’m on when I say over, she moves away from me.) – and then I asked her to stand up, reinforcing it with pressure on the lead rope. Then I’d ask her to move over on the other side, and then stand up. Eventually, she got tired of having to work when she, I guess, thought she was playing. She quit dancing on the crossties. Now, she hardly ever moves on them without being asked (only forward a half step at a time, so she can see better around the poles they’re attached to – she’s nosy.) – and 99% of the time, only moves side to side when I ask her to. She still paws, but it is minimal now – and if I say quit, I rarely have to reinforce it with a smack.

In February, my mom bought her from my trainer, for me. (Promise was growing like a weed at this time, too.) A couple weeks later, we found a 17” brand new no-name saddle listed on ebay – it had been ridden in once, and was close enough to us (about 30 minutes away) – that the sellers said we could come try it on one of their horses. It was pretty comfortable, looked like it would fit Promise, and was cheap enough that we weren’t too concerned about the fact that she was inevitably going to outgrow it. We got it for $125 and took it to the barn to try it out. It fit pretty well. Wasn’t pinching or anything, and she seemed to like it. (Disclaimer! I was 14, and this was before I knew how important saddle fit was/is.)

She outgrew it 12 weeks later. When I fell of 4 times in one lesson because the riser pad I was trying as a temporary solution was causing me to literally bounce out of the saddle every time we landed on the opposite side of a 2’ vertical, I knew it was time to get rid of it!

I ended up selling it to a friend of a friend with the leathers and stirrups for $175 (I gave away my leathers and stirrups with it, after all) – and purchased a French jumper saddle from one of my trainer’s other clients for an incredibly cheap price – because it didn’t fit her new thoroughbred. It was signed – although I can never remember the guy’s name. Great saddle. But she outgrew that one too, although not as quickly. I think it took her about 6 to 8 months with that one.

After deciding to wait until she stopped growing to purchase another saddle (I wanted a really nice saddle, and had gotten quotes for the French saddle for about $1500 – it was in high demand, and in great condition.) So, I held onto it, and used one of my trainer’s old, crusty metal-tree flat-seat jumper saddles. It didn’t fit any of her horses, but it fit Promise.