Since I've been laying here so patiently waiting for wellness to return, however, I've finally been able to read, study, and watch my equine publications and videos at a less break-neck speed-- really giving myself the chance to absorb more from it. My "project horse," Thunder, and I have been learning so much to regain fitness and balance; I'm grateful for this time to focus and reevaluate our goals.
I've had to bring the "ole boy" back along slowly to boost his confidence and fitness train him without him getting sore or sour. This slow-and-steady method has really paid off! It wasn't long at all before he was using his hind end, lifting his abdominals, and carrying himself again. His balance around turns is improving with every ride, his canter is coming nicely uphill.
Most importantly, his attitude has improved with each ride. I think back to a time when I was intimidated by him, when he could be unkind, willful, and even a little surly when asked to do anything. Leg contact annoyed him. Rein contact resulted in an argument. This is not to say he was ever a bad horse! Thunder has never been a bad horse. I think the true reason for the change is most dependent on my improvement in skill and balance and also my change in approach.
It used to be that I'd get in the saddle, warm him up, do some trot work on the rail, start working him in circles, and then the grumpiness would come out. We'd canter for a few strides each way, and he'd be so heavy on the forehand and unrelaxed that it was miserable to ride and surely miserable for him, too. I can remember wanting to shout, "NO!" and pull back, and give him a "Bad horse! That's a bad horse!!" speech. It's important to remember here that I truly believe Thunder has never been a "bad horse." It's also important to note that I didn't act on the impulse to shout/beat him into submission. I'd simply try this and try that, and when we got to a place where he did something smoothly and wasn't exhibiting resentment, we'd close for the day. Pet, pet, good horse. This became a little tiresome, however, and I started to search for things that would make us both happy as soon as possible.
At first, I'd breathe out, "Hey, it's ok," as we were cantering. "Don't run away," I'd say. Slowly, I started to add just a squidge of rein for a half-halt as I was breathing out, "Heyyy, take it easy." His nose started to come back down, his ears started to relax.
In a later session, he didn't want to trot a circle in a bend-- he wanted to tilt into the turn. Contact on the outside rein to balance him and keep his shoulder upright resulted in a salty-horse response that again provoked me-- but all I did was stop, bend him right and left at the halt, and ask him to try again, all the while telling him, "You can do this, buddy. It isn't too hard. We can do this, and then it will be over." Wouldn't you know it? His neck arched gracefully as he relaxed on the bit and performed a nice, upright circle.
Soon, all of my cues were followed by the words, "We can do this. It's ok." Our trotting spirals, figure-8's, serpentines are all coming smoothly along. Our canter is becoming relaxed and easy on us both (although he still occasionally falls onto the forehand to catch his breath for a stride or two).
It has been a long road of asking nicely, changing from a "do this, do that" dictator approach, and above all making sure not to wear either of us out with too much exercise. The resulting relationship and partnership has really been splendid. As I lay here in bed with my box of tissues and room-temperature 7up, I keep smiling just thinking about him, what a wonderful time we'll have when I'm better, and all the new things we'll learn about each other the next time I visit.