JennyBristol

Winter on the Yards

JennyBristol — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 11:13:00 GMT

Winter is here in earnest now, the rain constant, pools of water collecting on the frozen surface of the outdoor school, and in the cracks and dents in the unlevel concrete yard, periodically freezing over to create sheets of ice on which we slip and slide, swearing as we hurry to complete the morning chores.

Morning yards are tough with 23 stables in use, their equine occupants bedded down on thick layers straw. In the back yard, the beds are deep-littered, carefully managed they are relatively quick and economical to maintain. A six inch layer of packed down dirty straw provides a soft, warm base for the ponies to lie on, this is skipped out each day to remove droppings and clean straw shaken out over the top to create a deep, thick cosy bed, the heat of the deep litter layer providing a natural ‘under floor heating’ for its lucky occupant.

The horses on the top yard are not so fortunate. Their beds are managed on a more traditional ‘full muck out’ system over rubber mats. These horses are the ‘dirty’ ones, those too restless or messy to manage on deep litter, their beds are taken up each morning and pulled down at night – time consuming, labour intensive, back breaking work for the staff and a colder, less comfy, though still adequate, bed for the horse.

Often in the morning, the tap in the back yard freezes, requiring us to take the by big, metal trough buckets which serve the stables without drinkers round to the front yard, or even occasionally, all the way up to the Point-to-Point barn, to refill. Once full, these buckets must then be dragged back round to their stable, slopping icy water over unwary legs and boots, freezing fingers and creating more damp areas of the yard to freeze over into lethal skating rink patches. We argue quietly amongst ourselves as to who will have this unwelcome chore, thankful that the majority of stables have automatic drinkers.

In their stables, the horses and ponies doze; bored in their confinement, they wait only for the arrival of the twice daily allocation of sweet, damp, cidery haylage. In the fields, however, the lucky few still living out do not appear to be relishing their good fortune. Even under heavy winter coats, they stand huddled in the shelter of the high hedgerows, tails tucked in, backs to the icy north-easterly wind, picking hopelessly at what is left of the grass and waiting anxiously for the arrival of the daily hay allocation. Even the tough, intelligent Hafflinger pony, Charlie, looks miserable, and the lightweight New Forest pony, Prince, under a thick rug, bears the sort of expression usually only seen on the front of RSPCA donation flyers. If it weren’t for the fact that after just two days of living in, Prince had bucked three clients off and taken-off with a member of staff, we might be tempted to feel some sympathy for his plight, but following this display, he was immediately relegated to ‘living out’ status and the staffs’ hearts hardened against him.

Only Bramble, the Exmoor pony, his coat so thick now he has had to have a new saddle fit, seems unperturbed. Born and raised on the barren, windswept Devonshire moor, designed over generations to survive on a diet of bracken, marsh grasses and (more recently) tourist sandwiches, he is supremely content in his environment. His mane and tail thick with burrs from foraging in the hedgerows, he ambles contentedly around the field, ignoring the rest of the herd as they huddle by the gate. He is, even now, almost impossible to catch; whilst the rest of the ponies shove their heads desperately into the arms of anyone who even approaches the field, begging to be bought in, Bramble turns away in horror, his small intelligent head held high as he trots away determinately to return to his grazing.

Back on the yard, the mucking out completed, it is time to start exercising the horses not likely to be used in lessons. No longer is this a task to be anticipated joyfully as a break from tedious yard work. Once reasonably sensible, if sharp horses, too lively for the majority of clients but fun and entertaining for the more experienced staff, are now hyped up on sweet, good quality haylage, bored by lack of exercise and rapidly increasing in fitness due to be ridden everyday. They have begun behaving like half broken four year olds, spooking at leaves, throwing their heads around and leaping and prancing round the area like huge, four legged ballerinas. My arms, already aching from mucking out, feel as if they are being pulled out of their sockets and my lower back is permanently sore from sitting repeated cheeky bucks and plunges.

Still, there are some successes. A little Fjord pony arrives in the yard, history largely unknown but we are told he was backed then turned away for six months. It is about a week before we find time to do anything with him and it is with some trepidation that I lead a 4 yr old Fjord, built like a tank, semi-broken and having been stuck in a stable for 7 days, up to the school to ride. Sarah comes up to help me and hold onto the end of the lunge but, after a few excited ‘freedom’ bucks we work out before I attempt to mount; the little pony behaves like an angel. He is very green, has a good look at everything and only canters on a straight line but he is sweet, soft mouthed, willing and obedient. When I gush over him, my boss rolls his eyes.

“Don’t fall in love with another one for heaven’s sake’ he says.

Another new one arrives, Polish thoroughbred, a very pretty dark bay but rather underweight with a big grass belly and no top line.

“The third fastest flat racer in Chepstow” my boss tells me proudly. This does not inspire me with confidence. However I am pleased to find, as I take “Arvo” round the school and put him through his paces, that whoever reschooled him did a bang up job. The slightest squeeze from my outside leg pops him up into canter and although he mouth is still a bit “racehorse” – as I shorten my reins to jump, he speeds up rapidly until I drop the contact again – he is willing and obedient. For once, my boss praises my riding, saying the horse suits me and together we test Arvo over doubles, fillers and small verticals. Flushed with success I agree to jump him in the show on Sunday in the 2’3 class. It is only later that I begin to suspect the unusual compliment was perhaps a clever (and successful) tactic by my boss to encourage me to agree to give up my day off to ride his horse for him!

Riding lessons in the school have become an exercise in herd management and carefully constructed ‘safety procedures’. I focus a lot on trot work, practicing changes of rein with different horses in front, moving around the arena over poles and around buckets, always watching each horse carefully for signs of excitement or naughtiness. The better children have a canter towards the end of the lesson, one by one, up the long side of the school with a sensible pony at the end to act as ‘brakes’. Even with these precautions, the ponies still cause the odd problem. Fairly regularly one or two will be banished from the school for a week to be ridden by the staff until their manners improve again! The children learn to sit up and hold on tight and the nervous ones are allowed a ‘walker’ at their side for extra security. Winter is like this at the Riding School, the regulars and long timers have come to expect it. As the wind whistles round the indoor school and I struggle to make my voice heard over the lashing rain, many of the riders automatically bring their horses back to a walk until the worst squalls are over before picking the exercise back up without being told.

I don’t enjoy teaching in these conditions but I try to use it to my advantage, pouring over my ‘teaching children to ride’ handbook for new exercises to keep the kids interested and improve their learning without the risk of exciting the ponies. I experiment with different games to see to which the children respond best. We play cowboys and cowgirls, prince and princesses, even mermaids and sea monsters, and the better riders have a go at cops and robbers, chasing each other round the school in walk and trot, everybody laughing and cheering each other on.

At the end of the day, I lock up in the dark, closing gates, turning off lights and performing final checks on each horse to ensure they are hayed, watered and (if appropriate) rugged. The cold weather has driven all the DIY liveries back to their centrally heated houses and I have the yard to myself, silent except for the soft sounds of the horses, and lit by the 1000s of bright, winter stars.

Lazy afternoon? I wish!!!

JennyBristol — Fri, 02 Nov 2007 11:24:00 GMT

As someone that works part time in an office and part time at a busy riding school/dealer yard, I often have cause to compare the two very diverse roles. I think the one thing that really seperates the two jobs above all others is expectation.

Yesterday I arrived on the yard after an extremely dull and lazy morning in the office feeling rather flat,miserable and a bit hormonal with strong desire to do nothing for the remainder of the day. Sarah, the full time girl was feeling similar and we both agreed that as the boss was away we should have a 'take it easy' day. Now take it "easy days" at the office generally involve gossiping with colleagues, browsing the internet forums and emailing old friends. Come on, we've all had them. So why then, does an 'easy day' at the yard involve riding 4 horses, teaching 3 lessons mucking out 7 stables plus a heap of sweeping and tidying?

The answer is expectation. It is the same with Health and Safety. Colleagues in the office become enraged about H&S if they see a box or some wires lying around the floor. I spent 1/2hr yesterday afternoon balanced on top of a 10ft muck heap trailer wielding a sharp pitchfork!!! My office colleagues would be appalled but on the yards you are expected to make your own risk assessments and get on with your job. After all, there is no real way to make sitting on a half broken TB 4yr old safe - so why sweat the other stuff?

Anyway, I did enjoy my lazy afternoon. Although I rode 4 horses, I only read *rode* Sovereighn who has decided that dressage is his forte and has finally learnt to canter in an outline. BLISS!! However after this my motivation went downhill rapidly for the 3 ponies and I was actually on my phone for most of Cloud's exercise regime (don't tell the boss!). I gave up on Prince after 20mins as he was pretending to be frightened of legs which is a tiresome game he occasionally plays when in the outdoor school. I also nearly got myself into A LOT of trouble riding Cloud out to the field bareback at a fast canter (too lazy to walk lol), not realising my boss' wife was walking her dogs in the next field. Fortunately she saw the funny side as there were no clients or liveries about to get ideas about cantering through the fields themselves. Sometimes it is so boring having to set a good example all the time

Despite our lack of motivation, Sarah and I got the yards done early as the schools are on half term so we did an extra thorough sweep and tidy which left everything looking lovely. Once the sun went down and the lights came on, I got a really nice 'winter' feeling seeing the tidy yard, full stables, with every horse muching hay. My clients arrived for their evening lesson and my motivation/adrenaline kicked in as I love teaching. I had a great 2 lessons. Everyone jumped - even those on the more challenging ponies - and they all left on a real high. It is nice teaching adults as they seem to have lower expectations of their own abilites which means they really relish all their achievements. So satisfaying for an instructor when everyone leaves beaming and madly patting their horses.

I hard-fed last thing with the late night clients arguing over who got to feed whom. Of course I insisted on doing Hector and Sovereign myself as they are my favourites. Hector gave me a loving look out of his big brown eyes. He can be jumpy with strangers but he really trusts me now and let me rub his head a few times over the door before he dropped his nose into his bucket. Sovereign pulled his best Feed-Me-Now faces complete with lots of lip-licking in case I hadn't got the message! He is so cute - Sarah says he is spoilt but I love the way he will shout at you across the yard if you don't feed him first!.

I locked up and turned the lights off and looked up to see the sky alive with stars. In the darkness I could hear the horses munching contendedly and I felt the satisfaction of another day well completed. I never get this sense of satisfaction from the office - and that's why I think I get more done on a lazy day at the yard than on the busiest day at my desk.

All's well that ends well

JennyBristol — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 12:10:00 GMT

There can be few things more miserable than trudging out to the fields at 8:00am on a wet october morning. 6amin February when Christmas is a distant memory and the wet, frozen weather seems endless maybe, but the october-lead long slow decline into winter, marked by driving rain which soaks your britches, trickles down your neck and collects in pools of mud that drag at your feet making every step an effort, fills me with a sense of dejection and misery I am hard pushed to top at any other point of the year. So you can imagine my joy when The Boss came out this morning saying "Jenny, please catch every horse on the property (around 40) so we can worm them all".

Having fought my way through the mud pitt into the mares' field clutching 4 sodden ropes in frozen hands, I discover that none of the mares wish to be caught today. When I eventually manage to corner the unlucky four foolish enough to fall for my 'hmmmm am I going to pull pony nuts out of my coat pocket - nope, bad luck, just a till recipe from Tesco' trick they demonstrate their displeasure by proceeding down the field in resentful fits and starts which seem to serve no better purpose than to kick muddy water up the back of my legs, semi-discloate my shoulder and fully dislocate my temper. By the time I arrive back in the yard, I have decided that I hate all horses. I return to the field armed with a scoop of nuts which enables me to at least catch the remaing mares, although they then fight over the scoop all the way back to the yard, further covereing me in mud in the processes.

Fully soaked and now about ready to cry with frustration, I set out up the road to catch the livery geldings. Thank god for geldings. All four boys agree to be caught with only minimum fuss, plod quietly beside my down the field, negotiate a tricky roadside gate and follow me peacefully down the road. I decide that i do not hate horses, I merely hate mares. Also I hate landrover drivers that don't appreciate that 40mph is not a suitable speed to travers a blind corner on a narrow road. I suspect I frightened her more than she frightened me or my horses but she drove off in something of a temper with plenty of indignant revving. Some people.

I arrive back in the yard to be met by the other member of staff who starts a little later than me...

"Oh, didn't The Boss tell you. He's realised he's only got 5 wormers so we aren't worming today after all".

I will gloss over the next 10 minutes for fear of offending and corrupting innocent minds. The most irritiating part of the entire proceedings is that out off all the horses I have caught in (in the rain, in the mud), not a single one of them requires riding. Which means ANOTHER trip, this time to the non-livery geldings' field to catch Pepper and Prince.

While they dry off somewhat I ride Hector. Hector, having been the naughtiest horse on site, has undergone something of a transformation since his fun ride last weekend (see Hector's Big Day Out). Last friday we jumped 3'6, he has taken part in riding school lessons and today he did not spook once and, after some discussion about head tossing, trotted and cantered in an outline. I start intending to just whizz him round for 20mins and end up producing figures of 8 in sitting trot, Hector soft and going forward into my hand, me feeling like Carl Hester at the Olympics. Bliss.

Prince also out performs himself. Although new to the riding school, he is proving to be a very sweet pony. We practice canter transitions on a 10m half-circle from X to the track and later get bold and try some simple changes. Half way through the session, his back lifts and he drops into my hand. At this point I have the unbearable temptation to try to fiddle with his head and keep him there. He responds by throwing his head up. I sit still and down he drops... for the next 20mins I think Prince probably teaches me about leaving the front end alone as much as I teach him about balanced canter transitions. I leave the arena feeling a little bit in love.

I ride Pepper last. Pepper came to us a miniature rodeo pony. He is now a respectable and reformed citizen but like many ex-cons he is still looking for a quick and easy buck (ha ha, sorry, rubbish pun) so I carry my biggest stick. But the day having started so badly, it is clear that the universe is smiling on me once again and Pepper is the best he has ever been. I do a similar workout with him as I did with Prince and he quickly get the hang of slowing the canter for the 10m half circles and rebalancing himself for the simple changes. He also starts to balance himself to the left on the left rein and carry his weight on his inside hind which is something he has struggled with. FANTASTIC - I only hope he can maintain this good form when his (small and rather nervous) owner comes to ride him on Friday.

The rain has stopped when I leave the indoor school, the sun is shining and I realise I am back in a good mood again. I am regretting having to leave the yard now to go to my other job. Sarah is sweeping the yard as she waits for her first lesson to arrive, the schooling horses are munching hay while lesson horses doze in their tack, waiting for their riders. I have almost forgotten the misery of 2 hours earlier and when my boss asks how the horses are coming on, I actually find a smile for him. I even manage to feel a little bit of love towards the mares - ok, maybe not love exactly... I'm not going to go crazy now - but like with all outside jobs, once the sun comes out, all is well.

Hector's Big Day Out

JennyBristol — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 21:46:00 GMT

The local vicar who is a keen horse rider decided to host a 'church service in praise of horses' today. Although I am Roman Catholic and not a filthy prod (joke, don't freak out) I decided me and the horses needed all the help we can get, divine or otherwise, so we went along for the crack so to speak. My friend Ellen rode Polly (my horse) and I took the big bay TB, Hector who I am schooling to sell for my boss at the mo. Some of you might have read some stuff about Hector before - although he is unraced, he acts very much like an ex-racer - he is very spooky and sharp and funny about things touching his sides. As he apparently includes 'legs' in the list of things he doesn't like to feel on his sides, this makes for some interesting riding at times :) He also has a filthy buck and is funny about his mouth. I suspect his past history is not great.

It was something of a challenge for him as there were a number of horses at the service which was held in a large field. Also, to his great fear, there were serveral horses pulling carriages - beautiful to the human admirers but a source of some nervousness to many of the mounted equines who had clearly not seen anything like this before. Hector did a small amount of leaping about and insisted on keeping the dangerous carriage monsters in sight at all times, despite this meaning I had my back to the vicar for the whole service! However, he was largely extremely well behaved for a sharp, nervous, unschooled horse and the only time he bucked was when I droped my 'hymn sheet' onto his neck - although he could just have been protesting about my horrible singing!!!!

After the service, the mounted contingent set off for a short farm ride which involved a canter up a hill and around a field. Having never taken Hector out with more than two horses before and then just on the roads, I was somewhat apprehencive as to his behaviour when 10 horses set off at a hunter gallop! I was not the only one either, several others were eyeing him with caution as he was being very silly on the first part of the hack and leaping about, throwing his head and skipping sideways. However when the lead horse went into canter, Hector powered forward with enthusiasm but didn't leave my control. In fact he was super - he pulled hard and was keen but I never felt that I was going to lose him. When a horse in front bucked in excitement, he danced sideways but then continued cantering - a great improvement on his usual behaviour when a nearby horse plays up which is generally to start wildly and spin round. In fact, I felt I was riding a racehorse on the gallops, all that power and energy contained between my leg and hand - it was lovely. I suspect now more strongly than ever that even if he has never raced, he has almost certainly done the training as he seemed to believe he was back on the gallops again!

He was immensely praised by everyone for his good behaviour considering how green he is. I'm absolutely delighted with him - hopefully this means I will be allowed to take him hunting over the winter as he really seemed to settle once he was allowed to get going and although he was jumpy and silly when standing about, he never tried to kick out or shoot off. Took him home for a rub down and a bowl of nuts and left him looking very content. I was pretty chuffed with myself too as I think I managed to keep him calm and give him a great experience today and I didn't let his silliness upset me, I just sat quietly and let him figure it out for himself that hacking is FUN not SCAREY.

Idiot horses

JennyBristol — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 08:43:00 GMT

Had one of those mornings at the yard yesterday where every bloody thing I rode decided to be an idiot. You can tell winter is coming and the weather is changing - even the lazy horses are up on their toes, pissing about and generally being stupid.

Hector was the first 'IDIOT'. I took him hacking on Monday and he was being pretty stupid then, leaping about and throwing his head around and generally imagining hedge monsters. My theory was that he was cold and this was upsetting him as he's cold backed anyway... so he'd been kept in overnight. I took him up the school and he proceeded begin the session by pretending to be terrified of the school door, rearing and leaping away when I slid it shut.

the trouble with Hector is that for a 10yr old, he is green as grass and about as balanced as a 3 legged chair. this means when he does decide to be silly, he ends up scaring himself because he can't keep his feet where he wants them. This makes him extremely uncomfortable to ride as you never quite know where he is going to be at the end of each stride. He is also afraid of his mouth and has a dirty buck. Bleugh - sometimes I wonder why i do this job, in particular when I am leaping around the school on 16.3's worth of unschooled TB with its head between its knees.

From the sublime to the ridiculous, I rode Pepper next. Pepper is 12hh and knows that he is usually ridden by children. consequently he tends to rodeo if thwarted in anyway. although I am light, I am still 5'7... i hate riding these tiny rodeo ponies cos I can't get my leg on them so if they do buck, I just end up hanging onto the neckstrap with my feet stuck forward round their ears. Hillarious for my boss and any onlookers - extremely uncomfortable for me. Fortunately Pepper is *fat* at the moment so he only bucked once and puffed his way round a couple of 20m circle before I took pity on him and took him back in.

Finished off riding Sovereign who has been lame for the last month. Not having been sat on for 4 weeks hasn't done Sovereign any favours at all. He appears to have forgotten all the training Claire and I put into him and reverted to behaving like a half broken three year old. It was all I could do to hold him in the trot - his eyes were out on stalks, his head went one way, his body anouther and goodness only knows what his back end was doing but it wasn't comfortable... or pretty. Everytime I asked him to go nicely he grabbed the bit and shot off. TBH, it wasn't very fun so I gave him 20mins and got off him, hopefully he will improve again with a bit of work but it is very frustrating because he can go BEAUTIFULL when he wants - he was just in idiot mode.

Left the yard to go to my other job and returned later but couldn't face riding Polly (my own horse) as I thought, knowing my luck, she'll be an idiot as well and she's been a superstar later and I don't want to ruin it :) Another joyful aspect of working with horses - your own always seems to come last in the pecking order. Sometimes I really love my job and I DO still enjoy the challenge of working with the schooling projects but yesterday was just one idiot after another and its only going to get worse when winter arrives properly and everything is in all the time. Oh well, if I do get chucked off and broken, at least that means a few weeks off the mountain of mucking out :-)