A not-so-good day

I guess I'm mostly upset about today cuz I still think progress should be linear.

Nothing bad happened. But I still have bridge trauma apparently and Mag knows it now for sure. I'm disappointed in myself for letting myself get so stressed, and for staying on the horse when it was time to get off.

But I know that this day, though not fun, was important to experience. What happens when I'm overwhelmed?

Maren had asked if she could help me work on water crossings. I felt really confident about that, but not so great about the weather bringing every single German person into the woods today, and not so great about the wind gusts we keep having.

So I led Mag down the hill, with Chinook following, and right away a couple of massive, draft-sized Bashkir Curly horses were with us. I didn't know they come in XXL. As I let them pass Mag, I said, "They're from America." And the lady on one of them heard me and said, "Exactly right!"

I was glad she heard my comment cuz I'm sure most people don't know what this breed is, and in Europe they probably think these are Cushings horses. 

I chose to bushwhack a switchback and Maren didn't trust her horse on that steep of an incline, but I'm pretty brave when I'm holding a lead rope. Mag had tiny saplings swishing against both of his sides as we pressed through them, what great practice! Maren caught up to us and said a little defensively, "I had no idea it wasn't SO steep."


We crossed a little stream and Mag drank and drank. Then I got on. We rode to the next creek, which is much bigger, with a bridge next to the horse crossing. It's a place where many trails meet, and oh my goodness the place was busy today.

Right away both horses noticed two men standing at the bridge with backpacks on and maps in their hands, and one backpack had a raincoat attached to it, hanging down almost to the ground. Not normal, both horses said, and when Chinook got over it and proceeded, Mag stood there frozen.

After a while I asked Mag to proceed and he started to turn around, looking up this side trail that looked like it headed home. *sigh* OK we'll wait.

The guys kept looking back at us wondering why we were just standing there, and Maren took Chinook further and further from us, until she'd crossed the creek and stood on the other side.

At this point I began to get pretty stressed, because she wasn't sticking around, and I'm sure to Mag if felt like desertion when Chinook was on the other side of the water. Mag was still thinking about going back up the hill.

Finally those guys left and Mag came down to the water.

I wanted to work on water, Maren wanted to work on bridges. So I jumped off my horse, cuz you know, my bridge accident of 2009. I know from our only outing with Bintu that Mag is very uncomfortable on a bridge when there is another horse on it as well -- it sounds different. So I followed Chinook across, leading Mag, but Maren for some reason thought it would be a good idea to stop her horse in the middle of the bridge and force Mag to stand there.

In my mind, stopping and standing on a bridge that is only 1 meter wide is advanced bridge work. But since I was on the ground, I didn't say anything except good boy Mag. His eyes were wide looking down at the water. Mine were too, I tell you. I could see it between the planks under my feet.

Finally she moved forward again and we departed the bridge. Then we turned around and crossed from the other side. Again she stopped, making it a very claustrophobic place to be, behind her horse, with tall rails on each side of us.

Then I led Mag across first and asked her to ride across the bridge behind us, so he could experience her horse's hooves on the wood. She, for some reason, did not come directly behind us, but let me get almost fully across before she got onto the bridge. OK. But I realized Mag was good with it, no problem, whew.

On the far side again I decided to get on so we could go into the stream. An entire family showed up and I pulled Mag away. I got on from a fallen tree and made Mag step back over the tree, which he did.

Maren took Chinook into the stream and I asked her to take one more step so I could fit in beside him and Mag was fine, he walked right into the water. We let them stand a while and then crossed, and Maren cracked up laughing, "Your horse is walking in the stream like a little princess who doesn't want wet feet!" Hm!

She kept Chinook in the water and he stuck his entire muzzle in the water, which made us both laugh.

Then for some reason she wanted to do more bridge work. As I turned Mag back again to the bridge, another group of hikers approached and I had to go back off trail, pulling him to the side. I noticed that I had much less control of his body, riding with only a halter. I wanted that extra control badly at that moment, when senior citizens were walking directly behind him.

We went to the bridge again but then another group needed the bridge so we both took our horses to the side again.

This happened many many times as we tried to just do a little bridge training.

I got exasperated with it. Why are we doing this on a sunny Sunday? Mag got exasperated and didn't want to pull over again for the next group.

Finally Chinook was halfway across the bridge, waiting for us, and I rode him up to the bridge, and Mag got on it. Good. But Chinook did not budge. Mag felt trapped exactly how he does in horse trailers and slowly backed up off the bridge. Not a horrible thing, but not the best possible choice either.

She said, "It's fine, it's fine, don't force him." I said, "I know it's fine, but I'm done now. I'm done with this bridge for the day."

Since I had to be at the barn in 30 minutes to meet Christina, she agreed that we were done.

As soon as we turned the corner from the stream up the hill toward home, I felt this surge of energy from Mag, and for the first time ever, he offered to jig. Or more, I stopped that idea by pulling his head to the side and saying "SLOW WALK!" I said to Maren, "We'll go slower toward home than we left."

I felt Mag desperate to be out of that awful valley, never to return. And it was my fault. I felt terrible.

This couple was in front of us, wearing jackets that Mag found way, way too puffy. *sigh*

They stopped to admire nature and we passed, with Mag giving them a super wide berth, "PUFFY COATS!"

What were they looking at, I wondered. What else might happen today?

A group of deer. I thought, "Great, they're gonna come bounding over happily, confirming I have lost the ability to be calm."

But they didn't, and from that point on, Mag walked normally and all 4 of us were relaxed.

She said, "You were totally frozen back there, what's up with that?" I said, "Bridge trauma, ya know." She said, "No, I don't." I said, "Oh, I thought everyone knew about my bridge accident. I'll bring you the newspaper article so you can see it."

She said I could have asked her for help but I said, "I know, I know I could have communicated to you, but I was trying to manage, and didn't realize how stressed I was at the time." My horse knew how stressed I was.

A big group of horses of all sizes passed us and almost blew Mag's mind. He wanted to touch noses with each one, it's just so dang exciting!

Then a solitary body-clipped Haflinger passed us and it had a heart shaved into its butt. How cute. I love body-clipped Haflingers!

I was done....so done.

Mag didn't do anything wrong, as you see. He was just very affected by my stress for the first time. And I get how lucky I am that this young horse is not dangerously affected, just affected.

So now, on to trailer training.

Christina said she would not be taking me for a short trailer ride around the block, because she thinks there is not enough time between now  and when I leave, and if Mag has a bad time, he may not get back into a trailer again.

I think her logic is flawed, but it's not my trailer, so I cannot tell her what to do.

She helped me shut him into her trailer for the first time today. Mag did not like it at all. He was very uncomfortable with the back shut, but he never once offered to slam backwards of panic or force his way any way out of the trailer. He just acted stressed as we fed him and talked to him and told him how good he is.

She said, "Unload him and we'll go again." Mag backed out of the trailer much faster than normal, because he wanted to tell us how much he hated being trapped in there. But that's fine. I walked him around while she put up the breast bar for the first time. Oh boy.

The next time we entered, Mag was very much trapped, with a breast bar in front, and then, she shut the back. Poor Mag! Sardined! I stood there stroking him trying to feed him his bucket but he didn't want it, he was too worried.

Again Christina popped through the tack room side door, which is a door designed for a very tiny person, I could not fit through it without effort. Mag was so surprised, "THERE'S ANOTHER DOOR!" Yes, but for people not horses. Stop thinking that.

She told me to practice with the breast bar up the next few weeks, and then she offered to drive us home at the end of the month. That would be idea, cuz he's used to her trailer. She said April 1 would work for her.

Yay, a familiar trailer for Mag.

***

Back at the barn Mag was in the grooming stall eating his bucket and a group of ladies were sitting in the sunshine talking, watching us. Then one particularly abrasive lady said, "Why does Mag need a blanket?" as I blanketed him. I said, "Cuz I'm not here, I live far away, and I don't know what the weather will do." She said, "It's 13C out, way too hot for blankets." I felt like I was being mobbed. Of course if I were home Mag would not have a blanket on in this weather. But what will it do, and Mag is always so cold, colder than normal. He has no extra fat whatsoever. One lady said, "Just write to WhatsApp and tell us to blanket him." I said, "I can't." (I do not have a smart phone.)

I said to the group of people criticizing me for blanketing my horse, "Will one of you will put his blanket on if the weather changes?"

Bettina walked over and said, "Heck, I'll take care of it. I live next door." I said, "Whoever does, you need to know he's very sketchy about his blanket, he's a little afraid of it. I would never tie him up to blanket or unblanket him. I would be careful to fasten it in the proper order. and I'd be just very careful the entire time."

She seemed to understand. I said, "He's afraid of towels."

"Towels?"

"Yes."

***

Maren leaned back with her e-cig in the sunlight, "You have to understand, "Der Weg ist das Ziel!" She said, "You understand that right?" I said, "Yes. The path is the goal." She said, "Your goal may have been to cross the bridge, but that he put a hoof on it, that he stood on it was enough. Not a failure.

I didn't know what to say, cuz my goal was just to have fun, I had no idea we'd have a bridge in the plan today. I just wanted to have a relaxing ride, and I didn't.

She said, "That is the beautiful thing about working with horses. You don't have to achieve your goals as you expect, you can be satisfied with the smallest thing."

I sighed. I still did not know what to say.

Then I said, "Der Weg ist das Ziel. - I'll dwell on this."

In that, next month I'll be alone with Mag and be very, very set back, if I consider his training schedule and my aspirations with him. But if the path is the goal, I should be happy with bad days, call them good learning days, and not feel the stress of time that I feel now, having only 2 weeks left at this barn. She's right, but she probably never considered my time limit there. Then I'm on my own, with my still-green horse in the wild hills of Wermelskirchen. Where plenty of people hike with frightening backpacks and loose dogs.

***

I drove home, mind spinning with what I'd all done wrong today, trying to reinterpret "wrong" at the same time searching for the answers to what I could have done to have made it better.

I realize that days like these expand the relationship, they don't necessarily damage it, they may even give me keys to the lock of Mag's brain.

The only photos I captured on this day:



Mag wondering where his bucket is as we wait for Maren to arrive.






Maren standing on the mounting block while Chinook looks at the cat, who is happily sunning himself on the table.