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In 2002 I was offered a 'dangerous' animal, a thoroughbred horse. He was 4 and he was out of control. He was the great-grandson of Northern Dancer and Ill admit, I was enamored with his charisma and great conformation.
I brought him home and let him play in the paddock with the other horses for almost 6 months. The first thing I did, was stop calling him 'brat'. We changed his barn name to 'Bard'. I felt he had a lot more of his story to tell us. Then together we worked on getting him to understand the human was a friend that would help him learn to dance. He and started from the beginning focusing on the basics, walk, whoa, turn, and 'good boy'. He had been given up because he had this irrepressible urge to flip over on his rider when things weren't going his way. He was a fantastic horse to ride, as long as everything was his idea, or he though it was. The first time I pushed him and asked him a serious question, over we went. I was ready, or so I thought. I wasn't hurt, but I was plenty irked. So, back up I go, onto the back of this 17 hand horse. Again, we tried a 20 meter circle circling into a 20 meter, and we were fine to the right, but then I switched to the left. I immediately felt his shoulders bunching under me. Over we went. This time, I didn't have my stirrup to interfere. I stepped off as he hit the ground, I made sure to pull a bit with me as he was going down. He hit his head hard. As he was rising, I jumped back into he saddle. Again, tried to trot the circle, over we went. Same thing, I stepped off, and rode him back to standing. He flipped with me 3 times, but then, leaned into the bridle and trotted forward into a 10 meter circle on the left hand and never - ever flipped with anyone again. |
Author - D LeeAuthor, Dreamer, Schemer, Wisher, Hoper, Lifter, Warrior Archives
September 2024
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