Our problems.

This could be a long one. At that point, and for a long while (read: all summer!) I just loved to keep my hands English low. This was fine whilst I was working Tob in a snaffle with German reins, but after we graduated to the FG training bit, my trainer had to yell at me nearly every day that once you corrected or collected low, the hands must go back high. I'm not proud of myself, but that was my biggest challenge switching from English to Western. It took MONTHS! I wanted to fiddle in his mouth and then stay there, p-ing him off, making myself wonder why he wouldn't let go of the bit and causing a lot of frustration .

Anyway, his problem was anxiety. Any tension or perceived stress and he would tense those 7 year old stallion cribbing muscles and hold the bit for dear life. Sometimes nothing I could do would get him off. My trainer would repeatedly yell at me for being too soft, relying on my hands not my legs to get him off the bit, and then when she'd made me mad, I'd take it out on him and she'd accuse me of being too mean. Make that two things I've found the hardest about the switch over. Learning all the damn corrections to each fault and how to give them when you always wear spurs and ride with loose reins and the goal is that the horse's way of going is pretty much independent. So different. Any stop in the middle worried him. He thought we were there to spin or transition to canter or back up and we ended up dancing around wherever we stopped. Lope transitions in general were terrible. He'd arch his back, raise his head and explode, making me want to hold him which gave him something to fight. Make that the third hardest thing. Giving a speedy horse the reins to slow him down. I understand the principle, my mum's TB ex racer is the same way, but Tob had this fury in him that made it very scary. It wasn't uncommon to ask him for a walk to lope and he would object to my leg and fly kick at me. I could see his hoof whiz out about level with my foot. And this pony could buck. And twist. And run.

In short, he made me feel terrible. I confided in my coach and she replied cheerily 'but it would be boring if you'd got a schoolmaster, I couldn't have taught you half the stuff I have.'

No matter how terrible a session, Lise would always offer some crumb of comfort, even if it was just 'he isn't easy, I know.' Or 'nice seat!' (For sitting a particularly disgusting buck). I hadn't dared show her the video of our reining pattern from the first show where he spooked in the fast circle at a barrel and executed a dodge a cowpony would be proud of. I was proud to sit it!!

But I always came out of there, even when frustrated, feeling like we'd achieved some sort of thing.