Tuesday, Blending, Being, Better???

Easy morning, simply got up, got ready, had my mind made up… I was awoken by a song that hung around in my head all morning. “I’d Love To Be Your Last” by Clay Walker It just wouldn’t go away, not that I wanted it do, as it played and brought me memories of all the good stuff from the one memory that means the most. Funny sitting here and writing it to share with ya’ll (yes I am from Texas) I find myself in tears, kind of still waiting for permission to have the chance to know if he was as crazy as I was all these years. No matter what town I was in. I would pick up a phone book, to see if he lived any where near.
This is crazy, I was so headed somewhere else with this post. Just after reading Linda’s, Perianne’s, and Kylie’s I began remembering what great fun he and I had, we were such good friends. So when I got home to ride, things just all easily came together over some real tough, freezing, looking the other way issues. My big horse, attempted it first, he thought I wasn’t fully focused on him, and tried to take in a breath, get big… till I moved his nose, caused him to lose his footing, and then asked him to give at the poll to back up. He almost fell over, trying to get his feet out of his own way, because I was ready for him… I was daydreaming, but alive and watchful. With in 5 minutes my big tough overlord, was apologizing and asking quicker, easier, and much more mindful.
Turned him loose, and pulled out the second in command. Who tried the poor me, I was so abused, I was just kidding. Once again I was aware and moving, first him right, then to the left, allowing him to snort and try every gimmick he could muster, till suddenly it dawned on him. I was on to his game too. Suddenly there was so much softness, so much respect, so much “oh my God she really has this figured out” “damn” I then had his attention, his flexibility and his wanting to do more, without the games.
Knowing as I put him up I was on the trail of my youngest son’s shenanigans of all these stories playing out here before me and being turned back on each trickster male horse in my herd. The third boy decided in less time than the first two, that the gig was up, he had better watch his p’s and q’s and I had the most wonderful, soft attentive pony of the day.
Then my little girl, such a charmer, no mistakes, no errors, always doing as much as I ask and then some. Sigh. Next to the new horse, she is better, she is trying, she loves I do all this brushing and stroking…tries to barely move, just a little push back…until I up my energy. No, no, no, she wants me to ask and let her decide, so we begin the game, and slowly, step, by step, by step, her stride increases to a flat out walk, turn circle, stop, back, now for just a small trot around the pen. She braces, she plants her butt, she refuses. I squeeze again, she balks, swells up underneath me. I ask by bumping her sides. She grunts, her back raises and she pins her ears. I warn with a “shhh and a hey”. Bump her again, and out shoots one hind leg kick in what feels like a very uncomfortable direction. Up to the trot she goes, but dang it, I know she has pinched something in her back. She has been turnout to long, she threw way to much into that kick, and the tale tell signs of her having given birth and not being gotten back into shape, have proved her undoing. We finish, I massage her as best I can, give her some pain medicine, and check her later on, knowing she needs some work. I call the owner, then the chiropractor, explain what has happened, he confirms my suspicions, and gives me a list of stretches, massages and movements to do. Knowing if anyone can make it better besides him, it’s me and the crazy voo doo I do.
The rest of the evening is an interplay of my youngest behavior, showing all the signs of the exact changes I have made in my male horses. I love how I always have a compass to direct me and where it is I need to look, feel and find the answers I seek. Cept for the male, the man, this guy…hmmmm He’s coming, I know this, I just have to move a little bit to the left, he’s right there…
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About irfriske

Trainer, coach, teacher, parent, writer, exploring and sharing the connection through observation of what the Universe reflects back to us in our continuing education in living, loving, and enjoying life in interacting with horses, people, and animals.

Posted on January 11, 2012, in Attention, detail, long-ago's, massage, mayhem, Mischief, movement. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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