Confessions of a Control Freak

I tell my daughter, Camille, that its genetic; that it isn't our fault.  But there it is.  Its my largest character flaw -- and one that has cost me friends over the years.  It is also the source of the conflict that defined my relationship with my father for many years.  Both of us, control freaks.  Not pretty.

Of course, I didn't always recognize this trait as a flaw.  I was pretty blind about it, to tell you the truth.  And, I've only come to the realization that it is the reason I lost some friends, years after the fact.

I'm this strange mix of control, intuition, sensitivity and introversion.  I am consistently an outlier on personality profile tests.  I'm a weirdo.  Its a fact.  About fifteen years ago, I identified the control demon in the course of doing some hard spiritual work, acknowledged it, and began the hard work of controlling that beast.  (It's not easy and I'm not always successful).

What does this have to do with horses you ask?  Everything.

I think control freaks are drawn to dressage.  I could be wrong.  But I know I liked having clear goals, and a training pyramid to follow.  Dressage involves a dance between precision and feel.  It has been a good fit for my personality.

Tex... well, he's a whole different ballgame.  He draws on the intuitive side of my personality and my sensitivity -- that's a good fit.  But, he has good days and bad days and our progress is far from linear.  I struggle with that part.  Its not a training pyramid, its a training trail; a true journey.  There are sunny days and cloudy days; beautiful stretches of trail under the trees with a view of snow-capped mountains, and there are stretches where we trudge through switch backs, on a bare mountain side, under the beating sun.  ...okay, maybe not quite that bad.  But, challenging.

Thank goodness for Robin.  A few days ago, she reminded me that I can't just set parameters with Tex and hold the line.  Tex is a very damaged horse.  He's going to have good days and he's going to have days where its hard to trust.  Really, really hard.

On his good days, I can push on the boundaries of his comfort zone.

On his bad days, I need to encourage him to trust.  Robin calls this "seeking mode."  I want him to be seeking me -- whether its watching me from the pasture or walking towards me.  If I catch him watching me, I throw him a carrot.  I don't require him to walk all the way over to me and stand in a designated place.  If he starts walking towards me, I toss him a carrot.

After two days of tossing cookies, Tex is stalking me.  And, I love it.

This morning, when we brought the horses into the barn to escape the heat and the flies, Flash was first to the gate.  Flash nickered to me, while Tex stood at his flank, a few steps back.  I knew Flash was nickering more for breakfast than for me, but I praised him anyway and gave him a treat and rubbed his face.

Tex had this look like, "What the heck?  He's not your horse.  I'm your horse."

And then he stood perfectly still when I approached and was even a tad greedy about getting his halter and a treat.

I'm not so sure that I'm training Tex.  I think he is teaching me.

An Unplanned Test for Tex

Tex has been moving back and forth between being brave and not-so-much.  Honestly, I was getting a bit frustrated, annoyed, perplexed, tired.  I couldn't decide if Tex was stepping back and choosing not to engage because of fear or chutzpah.

So, I called Robin.  One of the cool things about my clinic with Robin is that I can still access her wisdom post-clinic.  She is continues to be my trainer, although my lessons are now conducted via telephone.  I asked her why Tex is blowing me off more -- because he doesn't seem scared and he isn't rude; he just chooses to step out of reach when I approach.  I thought he was playing alpha games with me.  But, its more complicated than that.

Robin reminded me that Tex's behavior of avoidance has served him well for many years.  It has protected him from contact with people -- who have not historically been a good thing for him.  He is learning that we are different; that I bring him good things and that I'm fair.  But, the neurons in his brain need to be re-wired.  Its happening, but its a slow process and there will be times when the old wiring will speak louder to him than the new.  My job is to be consistent and to keep the parameters constant -- good things only come with engagement.

Last week, most of our interactions went like this:  I walk past the pasture.  I have cookies in my pocket (in case).  He sees me and turns to face me.  I go to the fence and call him.  He walks over, but stops a couple feet away; out of reach.  I invite him closer.  He declines.  I leave.  No cookie.

Yesterday, we had some bizarre weather.  In the middle of June, we had a day full of hail storms and drenching rain.  The wood stove burned all day.  We decided to bring the horses into the barn since the stormy weather was expected to last well into the night.

The girls were standing in their run-in shed; basically dry.

Tex and Flash were initially running around their pasture as the hail pelted them, but then they took refuge under an oak where they were shielded from the brunt of the fury.  Jackson was in his round-pen.

Brett and I stood under the barn eaves, waiting for the hail to turn to rain.  When that happened, we went to the boys pasture.  I wasn't at all sure that I'd be able to catch Tex -- between the weather putting him on edge and the past week's un-interest, I figured he would be spending the night under the tree and not in his dry stall with a sheltered run-out.

Brett and Flash left the pasture, closing the gate behind them.  Tex stood near me, watching them go.  I approached him.  He stepped back.  I turned and walked toward the gate.  I heard hoof beats splashing through the mud behind me.  I stopped and turned.  He touched his nose to my hand and I stepped toward him; he backed up.  I walked away -- faster this time.  I felt his nose at my shoulder, walking with me.  Again I stopped and turned.  He stood like a rock while I slipped on the halter and led him to the barn.  Brett had filled the grain bin in his stall with alfalfa cubes so got a nice reward when I slipped off his halter in the stall.

And, I ran inside and called Robin to tell her the good news.  Its a long journey with Tex, but we are making good, solid, lasting progress.

Tex Graduates

...from kindergarten.  He has demonstrated that he can tie his own shoes.

When we got home from the clinic a week ago, I put Tex in the small arena instead of back out in the boys' pasture with Flash.  The small arena is next to the barn.  There is a walkway, about a tractor's width wide, between the arena and the goat area fence line and the boys pasture.  He wasn't isolated, but he was alone.  The sand is very thin in that arena because we don't use it for riding much, preferring the large, open dressage court. Grass struggles to grow through the sand but isn't very successful.  The arena is a decent size -- larger than a small dressage court -- so he had plenty of room to roam.  It's also perfect for rolling.  So, it isn't like he was in jail or anything.

Being isolated meant it was easy for me to control how much hay he was eating.  It also meant he was a bit bored.  As a result, Tex was always happy to see me.  When I took him out, to hand graze and treasure hunt, he was reluctant to go back to the safety of his paddock/arena.  As we got closer to the gate, he would slow and then stop and I had to encourage him to go back in.  Being with me was preferable.  Yes!

Wednesday after work we went on another treasure hunt.  I love treasure hunts.  I put treats in areas that are a bit hidden, or unpopular.  There were carrots on the stall mat in front of the tie rail -- and there was a bucket with all sorts of goodies inside the trailer door.  We grazed in a few spots, rich with dandelion leaves and grass, before going to the tie rail.  Initially he stopped and almost balked (which is the usual response) -- then I walked onto the mat and said, "Oh, look, Tex!  Carrots!"  He inched his nose out and took a closer look -- then walked onto the mat and ate them.  We continued on.

Another one of the things I learned is to approach the scary place/thing, reward, and then leave.  In the past, I've always tried to keep the worried horse in the scary environment until they realize its safe (which doesn't work very well).  Robin taught me that it is better to go in, have a very positive experience and leave.  That way, the horse develops a desire to go to that place.

After the stall mat and another grass interlude, we approached the back of the horse trailer.  It isn't hooked up to the truck so I didn't want to load him, in case it shifted.  The back doors were shut.  With Tex on a loose line, I opened the back of the trailer.  I wasn't careful or quiet about the whole deal.  Tex blinked when I swung the door around and latched it open.  And he braced.  I looked in the trailer and said --"Wow!  Look what's in here!" -- Tex knows that particular bucket and what it holds.  He came right over.

I decided to put him back in the boys pasture after that.  Sure, he still flinches once in awhile.  He's been known to step back after snatching a bite from a bucket.  When he does, I step back and before I can turn, he has stepped back forward.  "Please don't go.  I didn't leave.  See, I'm right here."

I think that qualifies as tying his shoelaces.  I think he's ready for elementary school.

When I removed his halter in the boys pasture, I expected him to turn and go to Flash.  If not that, then to wander out to his favorite back corner and graze.  But, no, he stayed with me and even followed me back to the gate.

Thursday morning, I was in the house getting ready to leave for work after doing the morning chores.  Brett opened the back door and said, "Come here.  I need to tell you something."

He told me he was in the boys pasture mucking.  Flash and Tex were grazing or eating hay or otherwise occupied.  He left the manure cart and went to the goat area to open their gate and let them into the pasture.  He removed the barrier so the horses could get in and help eat the grass, that has once again grown high.  Goats do not eat grass.  sigh.  He went back to picking up manure and then realized that Tex had come over and was standing behind him.  He asked Tex to follow him.  Tex took a couple steps and paused.  Brett thought, "oh, well.  It was worth a shot."  But, then Tex continued on and followed Brett all the way over to the goat area, where he was rewarded with access to the thick grass in their area.

I don't know; maybe Tex is ready for middle school...

Walking at Liberty: Last Clinic Post

The very cool thing about being at Robin's ranch was that I got to work with her horses.  We worked with Tex throughout the day, in short sessions (sometimes very short if he didn't want to come over to me).  In between, Robin demonstrated more advanced liberty work and gave me the opportunity to play as well.

Of course, the thing I most wanted to do was to walk with a horse.  But I had to learn a few skills first.

How do you keep a horse from wandering away while you are walking?  How do you create the desire in them to stay with you?  You use draw.  Its an energy pull, coming from your core.

There are three energies that are used in liberty work: Push, pause and draw.

Think about push like this.  Have you ever been in a group of people, large or small, and there was someone that never said anything to you but you knew that they didn't like you.  Maybe they resented you, maybe they were jealous, maybe they thought your taste in clothes was appalling.  You didn't know why, but you could feel them pushing you away.  Maybe when you left, you turned to a friend and said "what's up with her/him?"

Contrast that with: If you catch a close friend's eye across a crowded room and they light up; you can see that they are excited to see you, that they want you to cross that room and join them -- you would go, right?  That's draw.

Working on draw with Red

 In liberty work, I learned to go to the still quiet place at my core and, from that place, use energy to pull the horse closer to me.

After learning some of the building block skills, Robin asked me to practice walking with Red in the arena.

The next day, we practiced in the large pasture.  The pasture is vast, covering the top of the hill and sliding down to vineyards.  There were other horses in the pasture and they were all standing with us.
I called Red to my side and off we went.  It was beyond amazing.  Red stuck with me.  A few times, he started to drift off and I used draw to bring him back, close to me.  If my energy level dropped, he lost interest so I had to stay engaged, confident and positive.

Later, we did it again in a different pasture, a distance from the barn.

 We would walk a bit and then I would invite him to graze.  Then we walked some more.  I made a point of walking to places where the grass looked especially tasty.  He stayed with me and I found him good things.

After walking around for awhile, Robin opened the gate and said, "walk with him back to the barn."  We went out the gate.  I turned left for the barn, and Red turned right for more grass.  In fact, he took off trotting for another pasture.  Robin walked after him and he came to her, then they walked together, at liberty, to the barn.  So, it takes practice and they don't always say yes -- but what a cool experience it is to connect in that way.

A Different Kind of Liberty Work

What makes Robin Gate's liberty work different is intent.  It's liberty relationship and liberty play. Its relationship.

Let me try to explain.

I'm an American rider, living in the Western United States so that frames my experience.  And there are exceptions to every rule as well as differences in experience, so you may see things a bit differently.  This is my view of what has framed my journey.

In the beginning... there were cowboys who needed broke horses real fast.  So they rode green horses into the ground, or tied them to posts, or beat them into submission (yes, yes, not all cowboys; I know that; stay with me).  These horses did their job, but they were broken, and didn't think humans were all that great.

(actually, before that you had some Native American tribes who had amazing relationships with their horses and did everything bareback and at liberty -- but it takes time to build those sorts of bonds and cowboys didn't have the time, or inclination, so they ignored the golden opportunity to learn true horsemanship).

Source: nativeamericanimages.net

More recently, there has been the Natural Horsemanship movement.  When Brett and I first brought our horses home to live with us fifteen years ago, we were intrigued.  We bought the stuff: the books, videos and special tack (halters, etc).  The exercises were called games, but they were dominance games, and they just didn't appeal to us.  If you read the books or watch the videos, there is a lot of talk about pressure and the horses are worked in a round pen until they give.  So, we gave away all our stuff and followed our own path.  (Again, there are exceptions -- Mark Rashid, for one).  For me, it was the path of dressage and achieving harmony through thought.  For Brett, it was building a bond through the sharing of new experiences in mounted patrol training and trail trials.

But, still I longed for that connection and bond that, I thought, maybe only exists in movies -- you know, the Black Stallion running on the beach, or the wild mustang who chooses to leave his herd because his bond is so strong with his human.  I wanted that.

And then I came across Robin.  She never uses a round pen.  She doesn't use pressure -- she uses push, yes -- but not pressure.  The horse can always choose to leave; can choose not to play.

When Robin works with a horse at liberty, she encourages them to express themselves.  She invites them to express their exuberance.  Here's a video of her working with some of her horses.  You can see the give and take, the conversation, the joy, and the bond.

This is what I want.  This is my dream and my deepest desire.  (besides Brett, of course)

Weighting the Scale

How do you get a horse like Tex, who is so distrustful of the human race, to put his protective coping behaviors behind him and joyfully join you in relationship?  Why would he want to leave the safe corner of his pasture, the company of his friends, or his hay to come to me?

At the clinic, first day

Because I pay a commission.  And my commissions are good.  Very good.

Eventually, I won't need to pay as much because he will look at me and be filled with positive thoughts and happy anticipation.

Robin explained it as a scale, the old fashioned kind with two buckets and a pendulum.  On one side, the horse has his herd, his comfortable place, and his coping behaviors.  In Tex's case, those behaviors involve flight if people are close by, and indifference if they are far away.  That is the heavier side of the scale.  In Tex's case, that side is very heavy.  On the other side is me.  I haven't hurt him; I'm kind; but I'm a human so I can't be trusted completely (based on Tex's history of abuse).  My side of the scale is way up in the air.

What I need to do is add weight to my side of the scale with the goal of getting it, eventually, to be heavier than his status quo side.  I need to fill my side of the bucket with desirable things -- different sorts of snacks (if your horse is motivated by food like Tex is), interesting games (going out to hand graze, at this point), massages (Lucy lives for neck and wither rubs), or just companionable hanging out together time.

The first two days of the clinic, Tex was reluctant to leave his friends or his corner to come see me -- even when I had a bucket of carrots (or senior feed or alfalfa) in my hand.  So, we only gave him half a flake of hay instead of a full one to ensure that the goodies in my bucket were exceptionally enticing. By the third day, he was a lot more interested and when we got home -- he came every single time I approached the arena (okay, except for the one time he was hanging out with Flash who was across the fence).

The food didn't come free, of course.  He had to walk over to me and stay.  If he flinched, or pulled back, I left.  "Oh, Tex, you're scared.  It must be scary here.  I'd better leave."  -- and I'd take my bucket out of the gate.  The first day of the clinic, he was like "whatever."  This morning, he was eating his vitamins from a small bin I was holding (standing on his right side, I only pay from his right because that is his nervous side).  He was being a bit tentative and then something in the universe (I saw and heard nothing) caused him to take a quick "oh, no!" step backwards.  I looked at him and immediately left, marching at a quick clip back to the pasture gate.  ...and he came running after me.  I said, "Tex, are you following me?"  He put himself in position and dove into his bucket.  Because he is so tentative, I want him to be a bit pushy about it right now.  So, I was happy -- both with him following, and with the gusto he had for eating from a bucket wrapped in my arms.

Here, I'm paying commission from the left side.  By the end of the first day, I was only paying from his right.

Plink, plink.  My side of the scale is slowly getting heavier.  One day it will weigh more than the other side.  It may take a while with Tex.  That's fine.  I'm not in a hurry.

As of Monday morning, my side was already heavy enough that Tex will come to me when I am carrying his fly mask and let me put it on, at liberty, without moving a muscle.  I pay pretty well for that and he knows it.

Back home Sunday afternoon.

This evening, he was back to flinching and nervous.  He stood by the gate but he was looking for Brett and the hay cart; not for me.  So, I told Brett not to feed him until later and I did the rest of my chores.  Then I put some senior feed in a bucket, added some water, and brought the slushy cold mixture into the pasture.  Robin introduced him to "LMF tea" at the clinic -- its his favorite treat.  He immediately came to me.  I gave him a sip and walked further into the arena.  He followed; another sip.  I took off his fly mask and he jumped backwards -- so I left.  We'll get there but it won't be a straight line.  However, when we do get there it will be because he has freely chosen to be bonded to me.  Its worth the wait.

Liberty Training with Robin Gates

I learned so much over the past four days, its hard to know where to start.

We worked with Tex, of course.  He made huge progress and we were able to create some fissures in the layers of emotional scar tissue he has layered over his true self.  He uses indifference and reactivity to protect himself.  He stands in a corner of his pasture or paddock and ignores people, and he startles at the slightest touch.

The only way to get the alfalfa in that blue bucket, was to stick his head in the feed bin where I was sitting.  I did lots of silly things.  

The work I've done with him over the past year has been good.  My intuition about how to approach him was spot on.  But now, its time to up the game.  He's been working with me long enough to know that I am safe; that I will not harm him; and that I want a bond with him.  So, indifference and reactivity are no longer acceptable.  They won't be punished, but they won't be rewarded.  As Robin said, its time for him to tie his own shoe laces.

Robin working with Tex

We are teaching him that its okay to have me standing on the right side of his face, that its okay for me to touch him and hang on him and be silly; that I'm a bit unpredictable, in an interesting sort of way. We worked a lot with treats -- senior feed, cookies, carrots, and alfalfa.  Robin refers to the treats as real estate.  Anything I have that he wants, is real estate.  And he has to pay for it by coming to me, by sticking his head in a bucket, or by not leaving when I'm touching him.  He's done well; he's eating lots of good stuff.

Secondly, we are working on getting him to enthusiastically come to his name.  All of Robin's horses come flying out of the back of their pastures when they hear their names.  Tex knows his name and will amble over to me, but we want him to be thinking, "Hot dog!  She's calling me!  Here I come!"  This was a tough one for Tex.  There were many times that I went into the paddock, he ignored me, and I left without giving him anything.  He started coming over more yesterday afternoon.  Today, when we got home, I put him in the arena (rather than the boys pasture with Flash) -- so I am his only entertainment, at the moment.  He was very enthusiastic about me this afternoon; he even went so far as to trot all the way across the arena when he saw me opening the gate.  (talk about melting my heart).

In between sessions with Tex, Robin taught me the games that build the bond, and I was able to practice liberty skills using her horses.   There are three components to establishing, and strengthening, the bond: draw, pause and push.  I was able to experience all of them.  I even worked on walking at liberty with Red, her Dutch warmblood.  Each horse was different, and each taught me something that I can use with a member of our herd.

Walking with Red at liberty

There will be a shift in the posts on the this blog, I'm pretty sure.  There is so much I want to do and I want to share it all with you.  Lucy and Pistol have already had a lesson in "push," and Jackson and I worked on "pause."

The clinic was a game changer for me.  -- if you are interested in learning how to work with horses as willing partners and participants, I highly recommend spending a few days at her ranch.  She has horses that are star teachers and the setting -- on a hill above the vineyards in Sonoma, couldn't be better.  Here's a link to her website: Liberty Horse Training.

Wednesdays with Tex: Liberty Work

During the long, wet winter Tex and I didn't do much in terms of structured training.  We did spend a lot of time hanging out together over the fence, had a few grooming sessions, and maybe one ride.


He's been doing great.  All the storms were actually beneficial as there was a lot of catching, haltering, and leading back and forth between the barn and pasture.  There was one day recently when he was very worried about things, and stepped back when I approached.  But, he didn't leave and he didn't flinch when I touched him.  Most of the time, he comes to greet me and one day he even nickered when he saw me standing at the fence.

Remember a year ago when I was thinking about doing liberty work with him?  I still work on it a little bit with him; more to develop relationship than to do tricks.  Last March or April, I sent an email to Robin Gates, a renowned liberty clinician.  I didn't hear back, and figured she was no longer giving clinics.  I forgot all about it, to be honest.




Last week she sent me an email.  She was very seriously injured a few years ago and is only now starting to get back to work.  We had a long conversation about horses, and trauma, and connection.  She said she would be happy to work with me and Tex.  Can you imagine doing stuff like this?  The connection?  The fun?

In late May, Brett will trailer Tex and I to her Sonoma ranch for an intensive three or four day clinic.  I am so excited.  So. Excited. She said Brett can watch, and take pictures, so I can share it all with you.