I should be sleeping...

Friday was as I expected-- worked Reno and Luca (rode Reno, he was eh, decent, doesn't respect a snaffle as much as the curb), bathed them, cleaned the cart, cleaned harness.

Gillian declared Dylan to be lunging competent and gave him to me for a test run. He did pretty well-- he understands what I want him to do, it's just a matter of how much he wants to do it. And as Gillian said, when he whoas and stands, you can tell that every fiber of his being but one wants to come into the circle and be loved on. That other fiber says "remember what happened the last time you tried to do that? Bad things happened. Bad. Stay away from the scary lady with the whip."

That was Friday. Saturday I got up at 7 to get to the barn by 9:15 (leave house at 7:30, get on bus 7:50, get on next bus 8:30, arrive at 9:15) to clean stalls, since Robert had left to go to the show at an ungodly hour. 7 is pretty ungodly for a college student during the summer, but 4:30 is the time where you just stay awake all night for it. Got up, cleaned stalls with Gillian's help, managed to not run myself over with the tractor.

I took Dylan out twice today and was very pleased. The first we lunged, and he did very well. We've been lunging him in the very back of the arena because he wanted to stop and pull towards the gate at that point every circle, and it got stronger and stronger the closer you were to the gate. That's obviously something he needs to get over. So today, as we were walking and trotting around, I would move us a little towards the gate. We were solidly in the middle of the arena today, with no stopping due to gate (he did fall a little in love with Jade, the chestnut Arabian). His trot is still very forward but he's kept it to a trot thus far. He slipped once but that was because he was in a muddy spot, and he didn't get at all upset.

Because I'm dumb and feel like pushing my luck (also he's dirty and half white) I decided I wanted to brush him. The first step to that is learning if he crossties, because that's the only good way we have to secure them. So I attached one crosstie to his halter and ran the lunge line through the loop of the other clipped up crosstie. He tested it, pushed, felt pressure and gave to it. Yay! I stepped back about ten or fifteen feet. He was a little more restless, and kept looking around. He stood still for maybe half a minute, so I went up and scratched him. Oh!, he said. This is the game. I don't move and you pet me. I went back away from him. He stood still and looked directly at me the entire time. We played this game for a few minutes. He's very very focused on people, and aware but not spooky. Once he gets a concept, he gets it. It's a little weird to be so clearly the center of this horse's world.

I decided this was a good place to stop for now and put him back in his stall. He still needs work on haltering and unhaltering, but he's getting better. I pulled him out a couple hours later to actually brush him. I put him in the wash stall, which he was highly suspicious of, but walked in without a problem and turned around and stood without more than a few snorts. Again, crosstied one side and just ran his lead rope through a ring so I could release pressure if he started getting worried. Xsarena, a Trakehner mare, was being groomed next to him, which helped, but that horse did not move a single foot for about fifteen or twenty minutes while I curried and brushed. It was fabulous. I put the other crosstie on and he didn't even notice. He did get a little worried when she left, and started getting antsy, so as soon as he stood still for several seconds I called it good and put him back. I am really liking this horse.

I think I like getting them at 5 years old and barely halterbroke-- he's sensible, smart, and has an attention span. I'm pretty sure that Gillian and I could do most of the basic work on this boy by ourselves. I wouldn't, but I think we could get him broke to w/t/c under saddle fairly easily, and I think we could get him pulling things and tolerating carts on his back. I've seen most of Robert's process and with such a nice horse like this I think I could probably do it. Again, I won't, or at the very least I would do it with Robert's supervision. I have knowledge of the process, but I don't have the techniques I would need if anything even slightly out of the ordinary did arise. It'd be worth it to see the look on Robert's face though if he showed up one day and we were driving him around the field.

Rode Keno, he was alright but a bit of a pain. I used my close contact saddle and man, it uses different muscling than the dressage saddle does! I need to ride in it more.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time talking to Cari, a trainer at the barn. She's an ex-eventer and now does dressage and lessons. She's very nice and absolutely full of information.

Ooh, we got two new horses on Friday-- an Appaloosa and a Belgian/Arab. We called them Spotty and Drafty. Their real names are Spot (we were close!) and Bella. Bella is fat, and Spot is at least 100, probably 150-200 lbs underweight. Bella may go into driving training, and Spot is here for some badly needed weight gain. They're both broke to ride and we have permission to ride them. Bella doesn't have a bridle, though, and there's no way in hell we'd ride Spot right now. The girl was riding him(?) though. Without a helmet, and I'm pretty sure she's under 18 (insurance). She's pretty big, and Spot is not, especially in this condition. She asked him for a trot and almost fell off, she's got a little of the chair seat. I decided I could not find a tactful way to tell them they were hurting the horse, and as a representative of Stoneybrook I sort of had to be tactful if I was going to say anything at all.

Incidentally, I tend to pick a horse and label it MINE for a period of time. In this period, I gush about whatever he may have done right this day no matter how unimportant. This horse now appears to be Dylan.

The kittens have learned to climb legs. Lovely. Three small things on your jeans, not so bad. Gabe decided that he'd try this too. OW. One adult male cat (with extra toes no less) clinging to your legs with only breeches between? Not so cute.