I do a lot of groundwork with Chuy, partly because I normally only have a limited amount of time throughout the day to be with him and partly because I’m still dealing with my own confidence issues in relation to riding. Both on the ground and in the saddle, I’ve come to characterize Chuy as a “brat.” He doesn’t mind being with me, but often he doesn’t want to do the same thing that I want to do, and he shows it. When he’s in a “mood,” I can count on him to do just the opposite, so I’ve taken to a lot of reverse psychology in our sessions.
I had come to believe that this is just the way Chuy is. And that I can pretty much count on some sass from him whenever we work together. I assumed that my partnership with Chuy would always include some resistance and back chat, and that I would have to rely on my position as lead mare to counter him.
I’ve now found out that I was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Chuy and I participated in a two-day clinic a few weeks ago. Mornings on the ground and afternoons in the saddle, eight of us worked in a covered arena with our horses. Before the weekend, I wondered how Chuy would be. This was going to be the longest we’ve worked together continuously, and it would be in a strange environment with new horses. I figured he’d stick to me at first, until he got comfortable, and then he’d revert to his usual behavior.
He was the most polite, most willing, most cooperative that he’s ever been. In other words, he was a real partner. We both had a great time (judging from his calmness and curiosity throughout our stay) and learned a lot.
After the first day, I marveled to myself about how willing Chuy had been. He must have been in a good mood, I thought. He must have been more attentive because he wasn’t in his home environment. His curiosity must have made him more pliant.
Then it hit me. It wasn’t him. It was me. I had never been so polite to him before. My requests were firm when they needed to be, and immediately soft as soon as he complied. When he “got” the lesson, we stopped and hung out together until the group was ready to move on. He got lots of petting and rubbing while we waited. Generally, I was much nicer to him than I’d ever been before. Hmmmm.
It seems so obvious to me now. If I want a true partnership with Chuy, I need to be a true partner myself. If I want to find me more interesting than grass, it has to be a pleasure for him to be with me.
Having had that light bulb go on over my head, I transferred this realization to Travis, my thoroughbred. His personality is much different from Chuy. He tends to be quieter, more clingy, and more spooky. He doesn’t sass like Chuy; his is more of a quiet resistance. What does being a true partner look like to him? I’m working on that now, and it seems like many aspects are the same and some are different. He likes repetition (where Chuy gets bored with too much of the same thing). He is very clear about where his favorite scratch spots are (Chuy doesn’t let on about his very often). He needs reassurance a lot more (Chuy is generally more confident and so is less worried about things around him).
True partnership. I’m on the journey to discover what that really means for both my boys, and I am looking forward to more big changes in our relationship over the coming months.
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