Tolima: The end

Today in church Suzanna told me that Tolima is dead. I was completely shocked, and we both cried. Last I'd heard, she had Tolima bred to a Rocky Mtn horse. But not long ago she broke a leg in the pasture.



I had written a blog entry about her but never posted it. Oddly, I'd named it "The end" even though she was still alive at the time.



The following is a copy/paste from my other blog, where I describe the feeling of giving up on a horse I considered dangerous. A Hessisches Vollblut mare - that is, a Thoroughbred from the Hessen region. My first lengthy experience riding a TB, I rode her 6 months, 3 times per week. My goal was to not worry about my survival as I rode her. JK, kind of.



I kept a journal where I wrote my goals and plans to achieve them, as well as a log entry for each ride, what we accomplished. This is just the end of the story.

Catharsis

It was nothing less than cathartic for me yesterday, as I rode Galim for the first time in the same woods where I would normally ride Tolima.

I officially gave up on Tolima this month. After being away for 6 weeks for my wedding, and seeing that no one rode her out the entire time, I realized it might be "problematic" to take her out into the woods. But as any good animal trainer would do, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and expected her to be a good girl. Leider Gottes, she was totally nuts. As soon as we were headed toward home, she went totally crazy. Airborn. I tried my best, and utterly failed. It was a very black feeling, as she fought me, the acceptance that it's just not gonna work. All my effort would be for naught, if she puts me in the hospital. I knew this was where I was headed. I remember standing next to her as she trembled in anxiety, her brain miles away, I pet her and said "I'm done with you."

It was a really rough telephone call, with Suzanna. She tried to give me alternatives, "Ride her in the arena! She's good at that." I said, "If I were looking for a dressage horse, I'd be happy with that. But that's not my thing. My thing is exploring - my thing is kilometers." (Note the look in Tolima's eye in this photo - you can see she's in her happy place, home.)

So I hooked up with the little Arab again, Galim, Baasha's German distant cousin.

I rode that litle Arab over trail segments where Tolima and I had struggled together the past 6 months. Every time we rode thru a trouble spot, I couldn't help but notice how little trouble I was having with him. In fact, we were racing up a particular trail - a trail I call "hopelessness", and I was beaming with joy as I remembered what riding could be, when you trust a horse, when your horse obeys your directions, and there is an understanding between horse and rider that allows you to become one as you fly over the landscape.

Then came the point where we turned toward home, and Galim came back to a walk with only a shift of my weight. He walked on a loose rein, looking around him at the scenery, enjoying himself, like good trail horses do. I rubberneck a lot too, enjoying springtime in Germany.

Tolima: The middle

Some bloggers have been talking about herd-bound or barn-sour horses lately, and I feel so close to this problem because of Tolima (and Baasha, I admit). (This photo shows her Hessen brand.)



Tolima was a dominant mare, self confident, afraid of nothing. In fact, I'd never ridden such a brave horse - nothing we encountered on the trail made her look. Just the picture in her mind's eye of the barn. And usually in her real eyes, cuz most of the time we didn't go far - I had to keep her stress level down. That is why we did so much walking, and so much feeding and grazing on the trail, and coming home to hard work and being tied. (Which was also dangerous until I put an unbreakable halter/lead on her and tied her to something that she couldn't break. And for me anyway, she quit sitting back.) Take a look at her expression in this photo. Can you see how she's not with me?



Chatting with her former owner one day, she told me I had to be very dominant with Tolima myself, otherwise she'd try to intimidate me. She had to sell her because she ended up in the hospital and Tolima took charge from that day forward. Another girl broke her hand riding Tolima as she spun for home and ran the girl into a tree. (I took this photo the week Suzanna got Tolima - she was thin before beet pulp and unlimited hay.)



My goal for her was to simply get her to relax and enjoy herself away from the barn. When it wasn't working, I asked others to go out with me. It was easy finding someone to ride with, and I was clear that we would only be walking (Suzanna did all the galloping with her). The oddest thing for me, in comparison to Baasha, was Tolima did not care about the buddy being there. In fact, she'd try to get around/over him to just get home faster. If we both stopped, Tolima would try to leave him, in fact. Amazing, she doesn't care about friends, just home! So what is the answer?

Suzanna told me that it helped to ride her out in large groups in organized trail rides. The monotonous pace, and trailering out, really helped her settle. I agreed that going out regularly in large groups would be the way to fix her, but I was not willing to always ask for help, and I was not gonna be paying (100 Euros per month) for the privilege of fixing Tolima. I kept imagining the Harborview helicopter coming for me.

Looking back, we had some really splendid rides in the arena. She was a talented dressage horse, and had lots of Schwung. I hate to say "had" about her, how sad.

But at the time I just couldn't have fun riding indoors only.

What I learned

All horses are our teachers, and I sure did learn a lot from Tolima. I learned I can ride TBs, they're not too much more difficult than Arabs.


Horses can be brave. She was the only horse I've ridden that had zero spook. What a great feeling and unique trait! What a great jumper she would have been! She was really the perfect horse for Suzanna, because that lady has no fear. She did so many crazy things with that mare, and broke so much tack, and ended up hurt, but it didn't matter, she loves speed. (BTW, I edited the lead rope out of some of these photos--she isn't loose.)

Now I know what you're thinking. No wonder I couldn't help her, she was not able to separate her two riders' styles.



Some horses would rather canter circles with tack foaming up their coat, than go out and graze 100 meters from the barn. Unbelievable. But it was almost as though she was trying to teach me something: Just let me stay home and I'll be good.

What Suzanna said

"Lytha, you were right. All those times you said she was miserable out on the trails, she was. I got a professional trainer to come in and help me (Oh, how I wish I knew what event/accident inspired that decision!). The trainer said, 'If I were you, I'd never take that mare out on the trails. She hates them. She is happy at home. Just let her stay home.'"

Well, I never told Suzanna to give up on trails. I just said when I quit, "I'm afraid. She hates it out there and I'm gonna get hurt."

She said, "In the last few months, I gave up and only rode her in the arenas, and she was so much happier. I can console myself with the thought she was happy in the end."

Had I stayed, I wonder if I would have come to that decision too. It's possible that some horses are impossible to fix, I suppose.

Farewell Tolima. If heaven has barns I'll know where to find you.

Healing Standardbreds

Suzanna was anxious to say she's recovering through the help of her new horse, Fuchua's baby. What!!!?? Fuchua (pronounced Foo'-hoo-ah) was a Standardbred mare that I tested out and Suzanna loved her. She was bred to another Standardbred 3 years ago, when I was riding Tolima. The owner's heart went out to Suzanna and she sold her the baby! On the cell phone I saw the photos, a jet black younger version of Fuchua, who was really really pretty for a Standie!

I asked, "So, purebred Standardbred?" and she replied, "Well, the parents never raced, but yah, purebred." Cool. She told me she takes the bus there every day to visit/train her baby, whose name is Vollallein (pronounced Foal'-a-line) which means "totally alone" in German. Interesting name. I'm happy she has this baby to help her heal.