In Which I Manage To Not Get Arrested For Assault

Dog training extraordinaire, I am not. Heck, my 1 1/2 year old Boykin just recently stopped peeing in the house. I do not keep up with the latest training theories or ideas and have no clue what all commands I probably should have taught my dogs by now.

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But they all know come, sit, stay.  They can all stay in the yard without a fence or leash and not bother anyone. They can all be taken for a hike without a leash and come back when called. They don't growl at people or dogs. They don't jump on people (well, anymore..Einstein just got over that too) and will take a full body tackle from a toddler without pause. I think they function just fine in society.

Einstein has been really, really rough on the leash though. While the other two could walk with a loose leash and not pull, get stepped on or otherwise be a nuisance, Einstein rushes at the end and leaps, pulls your arm out and does every other bad leash behavior possible. We have tried everything I could think of: the make him sit and calm down each time method, the turn around and walk the opposite direction method, the who gives a crap let him pull until he passes out method. None worked. This is compounded by two facts: 1) He has a wimpy trachea that will collapse with the slightest pressure causing him to go into severe coughing fits and 2) He has separation anxiety and if he feels like he is falling behind, even though he is attached to a human on the leash, he will freak out and do all he can to catch up even if it means pulling to the point of pain. Yep, he is a tricky one.

There is a local dog training facility that also has doggie day care and a few months ago we started to take Einstein one day a week to help him get his wiggles out and enjoy life out of his crate. He comes home tired, happy and smelling good and I have had no complaints what so ever, so when they posted a clinic on loose leash walking I was all game and signed us up.

The clinic was last Saturday from 2-3:30pm and cost $25. It was led by their top dog trainer and I was really excited to learn some tools to work with. Now, I knew going into it that my choice of a harness would be questioned. A flat collar and a choke chain were definitely out given his medical issue, but I was hoping a good trainer would listen to that and work within my reality and not some hard and fast rule she learned once upon a time.

There were 6 other dogs in the clinic: a 4 month old Great Dane puppy already larger than Einstein, two older mutts, an extremely dog aggressive pitt bull (I am not trashing the breed here, I love pitts, but this guy was vicious), and two middle aged German Shepherds. All showed up in a flat collar, except us with the harness and the pitt who wore both a large prong collar and a choke chain with a special leash that attached to both.

The super trainer showed up 10 minutes late and spent the next 5 complaining about the humidity. Not a good start, but I settled my irritation and got ready to learn. We all introduced ourselves, our dogs and gave a brief counting of the issues we were having while on lead: pulling, crossing in front, lagging behind etc...

Knowing my choice of harness would be questioned, I opened with the fact that any stimulation to his neck causes a massive coughing fit which was adding to our issues. She openly rolled her eyes and scoffed at me. It was rude and I felt my self control start to slip. It was 20 minutes into the class.

Next, we were all asked to individually walk our dogs around the room to show how we corrected and such. That was the first time I got to work with Einstein and it lasted for a 1 minute circuit around the room.

Once we all had a chance to show our stuff, she went into talking mode. I listened intently hoping to grasp at some straws of wisdom. Her talk lasted one minute and went something like this:

"All dogs need a prong collar. It doesn't matter their demeanor, personality or training level. "

The end. Um???

Ok...full disclosure: I HATE prong collars. Dusty has seen some pretty nasty things over the years from those. I know it is a training tool. I know it is much like using a stronger bit or the like in horses. I know in some cases they are needed. But for everyone? No matter the situation? No matter the dog?? You call yourself a trainer??

She handed out prong collars to everyone (even the poor 4 month old puppy until the owner looked appalled so she switched it to a choke chain.) and I raised my hand.

"What about those gentle leaders? I have had good luck with them in the past."

"He isn't a horse. So no." Eye roll again.

Ahhh...ok...cue resting bitch face now.

Super trainer then walked over and grabbed each dog in turn to show the remarkable difference the prong collar made and how she could turn your leash ambivalent pooch into a loose walking machine.

When it was Einstein's turn she took the leash without making eye contact with me and proceeded to pop him in the neck with the leash to cue "walk". Without even giving him a chance to respond first. Without even giving him a chance to get used to the new collar on his neck.

He responded by thrashing about and screaming blood curdling murder at the top of his lungs. She laughed and pointed to me saying that it was my fault he wasn't used to a collar around his neck. I saw red.

She "walked", and I use that term loosely, him around the room popping him forcefully in the neck each time he even thought about stopping or going forward until she created a panic ridden, shaking, anxious dog who wasn't learning anything. he was reacting to the pain she was inflicting and by the end of a two minute circuit he was at her heels, tongue lolling about, eyes popping out of his head.

She looked around the room triumphantly and declared him cured of his leash walking misdemeanors. I asked what would happen if she removed the prong collar and walked hi around on his harness. If he was cured of all his leash woes he should then be able to walk next to her heel without the pain inflicting metal contraption. She handed him back and moved on without acknowledging me.

Yeah, you are a great trainer.

This was repeated with each poor dog in the room and then she declared everyone trained.

The last 30 minutes, instead of us working on our dog handling skills, she talked about the collars some more, the fact that they should be left on all day to be used to correct any bad behavior immediately and oh - please sign up for my other classes.

When she tried to make me pay for the collar, it took all my will power to place it on the ground instead of throwing it in her face. I did roll my eyes though. That was fun.

I apologized to Einstein for this torture session, debated on asking for my money back and then watched as all the dogs slunk back to their cars no better trained, but now fearful of ever going on a walk again.

Once home, I did my best to erase the memory of the afternoon and took Einstein and Bones out for a walk in the neighborhood with Dusty and Wyatt. Einstein was nervous and shaking to begin with, but soon relaxed and enjoyed life again. I will be trying a gentle leader on him in the near future.

My Best Friend

Lately I have been feeling a little lost without a friend. Moving to SC was great in a lot of ways, but we have found ourselves devoid of any close friends here for the first time. In all our other moves we were  able to make a set of good friends who we could hang out with, laugh with and talk to. It is not SC's fault. It is more to do with the period we are at in our lives, but it doesn't make it suck any less.

I've been yearning for that friend who thinks I'm funny even when I'm just being strange. Who chooses to seek out my company and doesn't wait on me to do it all. Someone who stands by me when I'm happy, sad, angry, cranky or sick. Someone who is game to do all the crazy spontaneous things that pop up in my mind at the drop of a hat. Someone with whom I can be 100% completely, totally myself at all times.

And then it hit me. I already have all of that.

While I was making the one millionth circuit around the downstairs with my knees and ankles locked out, my arms extended with fingers out and palms facing inward, shouting "I. Am. A. Robot. I. Am. Going. To. Get. You" and listening to the near breathless hysterics of the little man I was chasing on yet another rainy day, it hit me: Wyatt is my best friend. And he is the best friend a gal could ever hope for.

So while I still would love to have fellow adult friendship and talk, laugh and do crazy non toddler things, I think I am pretty darn lucky right where I am at. I do have people I ride with on occasion, friends I text and commiserate with when they are having a bad day or celebrate with them when something good happens. I have people who randomly call me to say hello or drop a facebook message. But that one special person who is game for almost anything, who laughs at all my jokes and couldn't imagine me being anyone else even when my filter breaks and I say something I shouldn't have, well he just happens to be three years old, blonde and with the most gorgeous hazel eyes you have ever seen.

Do I Still Even Have A Horse?

Lately, I'm not so sure.

It has been two weeks since I have laid eyes on her fuzzy body and nearly a month since I last rode. She is going to be one angry mare when I go see her this weekend.

Pre mommy era, I would see her three times a week and would have been appalled at the very thought of going this long, but post mommy era reality is that this is ok. Life gets in the way a lot: SC has decided to become an honorary member of the pacific northwest with rain falling nearly constantly this fall (seriously, it hasn't stopped raining to some degree in the last 7 days), I came down with a nasty sinus infection turned bronchitis two weeks ago and today is the first time I have not felt like hiding in a hole and sleeping my life away, kiddo plans, added work shifts to help with finances....it all adds up.

I am basically fine with this. Gem is ok hanging out in her herd eating the last remnants of fall grass and growing out her damaged hoof wall. There is no rush to do much of anything with her except enjoy the moments I have when I can.

There is one exception to this: Broxton Bridge. A lot of local endurance people are heading out today for the last ride of the season (although honestly this is pretty deceptive down here where there may be a month lag between seasons versus up in WI where all trails closed from Nov 1- April 1) and I really wish I was amongst them.

Gemmie could do a conservative 25 and if I had anyone who wanted to catch a ride on her, I'd be all up for making it work out. I can go, I can camp and I can crew, but I can't ride: 1) I am really not feeling well enough to do 25 miles at all and 2) I will have Wyatt. So I guess if anyone reading this would want a last second trip to SC for a LD, let me know!

In Which I Become That Parent

In general I am a low key type of parent. For those of you who are my Facebook friend, you will know that my kiddo is filthy dirty more often than clean and his favorite activity is digging with his dump trucks and digger toys. He plays in creeks, swims in rivers and has probably eaten his fair share of horse poop along the way. It will make him stronger as an adult, right?

I don't plan on having him enrolled in 57 different sports and activities and while I am not a "trophy for everyone" type of person, I also could care less if he wins the toddler Olympics. As long as he is having fun, I'm cool with last place.

Except on Halloween when I apparently dressed up as THAT PARENT.

It goes a looong way back. When I was of Trick or Treating age, my dad and I would go out together. I never had friends with me. Probably because I was obnoxious and nobody wanted to join my special type of insanity. I dressed as a witch every single year and carried a pillow case for my loot. My dad would come along and carry a spare pillow case. I would literally sprint from house to house, breathless in my pursuit of turning the whole celebration into a contest of beating my previous year's record of houses.

I was polite, would say thank you, never cut through flower beds and never bowled any kids over, but I was determined to hit as many houses as possible in the skimpy 2 hour window the area allowed. It was epic. And probably a little sad.

The last two Halloweens, Wyatt was too young to get the point and we just hit up our neighbors houses to show off his cute costume and called it a night with two or three pieces of candy he never ate anyway.

Not this year.

This year he is nearly 3 and we went out with his cousins and hit up their large neighborhood. I was chomping a the bit. I was foaming at the mouth.

I was embarrassing my husband and annoying my child.

I would urge him on with a "go, go go! you gotta get up to that door quickly!" When he took what seemed like an hour but was really only a minute or two to make his candy selection, I groaned inside thinking of the lost time. The missed houses.

When we selected a route that was devoid of many lights only to hit a house or two, my soul died at the thought of all those missed houses down the side street we avoided. AAAHH!!

Dusty wondered where Wyatt's low key mom had gone.

The Ideal Day for a Rider

This article about the Ideal Day for a Runner came across my newsfeed and it got my wheels turning. It seemed like the perfect topic to spin off for riding. Of course, everyone's ideal day will be different and I would love to see some of you post what your ideal would be. I'm guessing it wouldn't start quite as early as mine ;) Also, this is for a regular ride, not a competition.

1.)  At 5:30 am the alarm goes off, but you are already moving stealthily through the bedroom pulling on your riding clothes. The sun isn't quite up yet, but you are excited anyway. For once you didn't even groan getting out of bed.

2.) When you enter the kitchen you see it - your Garmin nicely plugged in with 100% charge. The Camelbak bladder with cold water is waiting in the fridge and your favorite granola bars are tucked into the side pocket of the pack. You congratulate yourself on having prepared everything the night before - for once!

3.) The truck roars to life just as the sun begins to rise and you grin when you see the tank is full.

4.) Once at the barn, the truck aligns perfectly to the trailer and hooks up seamlessly in one go. The sun creates the perfect colors overhead as it rises and you head off to get your horse.

5.) Your horse is standing by the gate with ears forward awaiting your arrival. She nickers a hello and you slip the hater on guiding her out to the trailer. The weather is getting to the perfect temperature: mid 60s with a slight breeze to keep you cool as she eagerly self loads and you head out.

6.) The trail head is empty in the early morning light and you mount up with anticipation. The trail you selected is perfect: a combination of technical single track twisting through the woods and wide open fields allowing for canters and gallops.

7.) Your horse moves out beneath you with ears forward and a happy spirit. She glides through the miles feeling strong, willing and brave. The Garmin registers 6-7 mphin the woods 10-12 mph out in the open.

8.) Half way through there is a fresh creek where your horse fills up on both water and fresh green grass along the banks as you munch on your granola bar. She is showing no signs of strain from the ride and everything just feels effortless. You are riding in perfect balance with your horse.

9.) As the ground disappears under her hooves, you start to plan your next race. She can handle it, you are more than confident of that. A 50? Why not two days of 50s?  If she can do that, why not a 100? On a day like today anything feels possible.

10.) You finish the ride with a gallop back to the trailer. She chows down on her mash, miraculously not getting any green slime on you, and you head home with a massive grin on your face. You make it in time for lunch with the family and your heart and soul are at peace.

Annual Soup Party

While this weekend featured no riding and a missed costume party style hunter pace, we did get to enjoy the beauty that is the barn's annual soup party.

Each fall, the BO invites past and current boarders along with their family and friends to come out to the barn around 4 pm. Everyone is asked to bring their favorite soup to share. This year I brought white chicken chili and added it to the growing display of soups that were already taking up every available inch of the table.

The BO and his wife bring oversized soup mugs, spoons, desserts, sandwiches and thermoses full of the best hot apple cider around. It is a really fun event that I have grown to look forward to.

Since I ride at really odd times, I generally do not get to see any other boarders and this event also allows me to meet the others and chat it up a bit. I got to meet the owner of Gem's newest BFF, a haflinger mare, and her gaggle of children that torture love on the beast. Putting faces with names and horses with owners was nice.

Wyatt spent the entire times digging the in the saw dust pile and playing with a boy a few months older than him. It was neat to watch him play and share his digger and dump truck toys. He moved over to the arena at one point and the old crippled gelding came over to investigate. In the process of saying hello he also downed all of Dusty's apple cider and begged for more. I guess the old guy wanted in on the party.

The evening grew chilly as the sun went down and I shouted off a hello to Gem who was enjoying the green shoots of fescue that pop up in the fall. She raised her head long enough to acknowledge my presence and the fact that I was not holding a halter and then went back to grazing.

Haley found me towards the end and asked when the next pace is. She was disappointed that we would be missing the Halloween pace, but Dusty was going to be working. Unfortunately, I doubt she will get to go to the next one either even though she is overflowing with excitement. She is only 14 and works at the barn everyday after school for her board and also takes care of a barn down the road for extra cash. Her mom doesn't help her financially with the horses (I do not judge this at all because I do not know their situation or the relationship). $40 for a pace is a lot for her to come up with as it is and I don't ask her to help with gas money at all since I would be going anyway and she is already at my barn. Yes, the extra weight probably eats more gas than if it was just Gem but that is negligible to me.

However, half the paces take place in NC and half here in SC even though most are within an hour drive of the barn. Since we take mostly back roads to get to these places, I doubt we would get pulled over or in trouble but I am a firm believer in following the rules. This means that I refuse to travel out of state without a health certificate. I told her she would need to get one, but I think the cost would pretty much mean she would have no money to go to ride. Which is sad.

I wouldn't feel so bad for her if she was 16 and could get a real job that paid decent money, but at 14 you pretty much are stuck to odd jobs that pay cash under the table. I am trying to figure out if I can get her to do something for me like clean my tack or bathe my mare to earn some money and help pay for the rides. I would offer to just cover the health cert, but we are drowning a bit ourselves lately with Gem's injury and then Wyatt's ear surgery and I have had to get creative to afford the paces myself.

Anyway...that went a bit off track.

Back to the soup party....

They just started a bon fire when we got ready to head home and said our goodbyes. My tummy was full of various types of homemade soup, pumpkin roll, cookies and hot cider and we went home with that fall warm fuzzy feeling. Of course, it being 80degrees out helped with the warmth too :) Gotta love fall in the south.

When Reality Hits it Hits Hard

In my youth my mom would drop me off with my Aunt to stay on her farm for a week several times throughout the summer. We would ride, canoe, shop and explore. She took me to WV, Gettysburg, Maine, MD and countless small local trail heads. I loved every single second that I spent with her and my Uncle. My mom would allow most things to occur, but I distinctly remembering her putting her foot down when they wanted to take me up in a hot air balloon. Of course, this was her sister and she knew her extremely well and knew she wouldn't let me get hurt.

Last Sunday, as I hooked up the trailer, I saw Haley's mom pulling out of the barn drive. I walked over to introduce myself to her assuming she would want to meet the person who was driving her 14 year old daughter to go ride. I shook her hand, told her where we were going, that it was well marked (well...that was mostly true), and that there would be people everywhere. I explained that it was as safe as riding on trails could be made and to not worry.

She really wasn't worried and just shook her head in response and told me to have fun.

I walked away feeling perplexed. Here I was, a complete stranger to this woman, and I was preparing to load up two horses and go ride. No way would my mom have let me go gallivanting off with some girl she didn't know. She would be wondering where the responsible adult was.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was the responsible adult.

Holy crap. When did that happen?

That woman looked at me oddly because she saw me as a mid 30s working mother of a 3 year old who had been riding for forever and here I was trying to explain how many responsible people would be around.

There needn't have been other responsible people because I would be there. Crap.

I have officially turned into an adult.