Cob Jockey

My goals for Eva for this clinic were simply to find out what she still needed to learn before I got on her, which I assumed would be sometime in September. When Kate got there, Eva had still never been saddled, bridled, long-lined, ground driven, ponied, or any number of other things I thought she needed to know before having a rider on her back.

So if getting to this point

First moment sitting on her

on the very first day Kate was here seems premature, well, I don't blame you for thinking that. But in the end, it was the opposite of premature. It was incredible. And it was no accident.

On Friday morning, Kate spent a long time doing groundwork with her. Figuring her out. Where she holds tension and how to help her work through it. How she reacts to pressure, and not just pressure applied to her head. How to help her feel and deal with her emotions, not just shut down and bluntly accept whatever humans ask of her. Doing many of the "advanced leading" exercises with her trying to establish that communication and bi-directional respect that underpins everything. 

She also taught Eva a skill that she had tried to teach Pyro and I on a virtual lesson last winter that just did not compute with my brain. In a sentence: you stand on the mounting block and hold your arm straight out and the horse, from wherever it is in the ring, even eventually at liberty, sidles up to you, puts itself in the right place for mounting, and stands there. 

Horse starts here (or wherever)

Horse ends here

This exercise does a few things. Obviously, it's great for mounting, but it also gives the horse a lot of control. You cannot force a horse into this exercise, there's no physical way. You can only ask, in kind of a vague way that almost doesn't have anything to do with the motion the horse has to perform. 

You just keep asking, slowly, patiently, and the horse has to figure it out, with the timing of your release telling them when they've made even a baby step toward the right answer at first, and a re-start of the exercise telling them "good job, but not quite."

For clarity, we started this exercise with me/Kate on the gate for more height and control, and then moved to the mounting block placed against the wall when Eva was solid with it.

It also teaches them self-control. They learn that their only job when in position at the mounting block (or gate) is to stand. No matter what happens to them. With less tolerance over time as they get good at it, if they swing their head around, or dance around, we re-start the exercise.

Eva soaked it up like a sponge, and was quickly a pro at the mounting block game. I mean, QUICKLY. She is so engaged with people, and has a quick mind for figuring out each new game. 

At the end of that session, Kate said "You're definitely going to get on her. Want to get on her later this afternoon?"

Record scratch, excuse me what?

Now here is where I say, that my actual reaction was "Sure!". Because as I have told Kate, many times in all of the lessons she's given me since 2016, I have thought "That sounds like total bullshit." But every time, whatever she is teaching me WORKS. So now, my reaction to anything she says is "That sounds like total bullshit, let's do it!" 

So, weenie adult amateur starting a green horse that has never even been saddled before bareback and in a rope halter after calling the horse to her on the fence Disney-princess style? Total bullshit, let's do it!

By this point, Eva had really internalized the idea that no matter what happened at the mounting block, it was her job to stand still. From the gate position, Kate had me start by rubbing her all over her back with my foot. Then walk away from it to release that pressure, and then we restarted the mounting block exercise. 

This time I got on. My instructions from Kate were "Don't sit up. Align your spines as quickly as possible while on your belly and then slide off the other side immediately."

That went perfectly. We repeated it a couple of times, and then the next time, I sat up. And just sat there. And breathed. And everything was fine.

To be completely fair, this was also the reaction the first time I sat on the only other Castleberry Cob I've started, Shae, so it has quite a bit to do with the generous nature of this breed also. But that was, let's call it a more traditional way of starting (since I was in college taking a class from an established colt starter)

At this point, my mind was thoroughly blown. And I had only just sat up there! But it was completely stress-free for both of us. It felt like I had not forced Eva into this, that Kate and I had created a communication framework between us, that Eva understood her role, and that she was not over-faced, even though on paper, it looked like we went from A to F on the alphabet and skipped a bunch of steps.

"Isn't it great? I start all my horses like this now," said Kate, beaming, as I sat up there trying to remember to breathe and still incredulous that I was sitting bareback on an unbroke horse.