Leo at his first Beginner Novice Event at Paradise Farm HT. Photo by Carrie Meehan.
This one time, late last summer, I reported that my giant project dinosaur horse, Leo, seemed to suffer from a generalized lack of self confidence, and that it was an ongoing process to try to help him overcome that problem. I felt that he was mostly naughty under tack because he was worried and scared of life, and my job was to conquer this and teach him to rule the world. Then, a few weeks ago, I was confident enough to compete him at his very first event, at Beginner Novice level, at Paradise Farm HT. I decided to trot most of the fences on cross country as an added confident builder for my enormous green bean, and I felt that it was a smart move. However, as it goes with a lot of learning curves, you see little to no improvement, and then suddenly BAM it’s all there.
In this case, I have literally created a monster. I wanted a confident horse, and well, I sure got one. After the seriously impressive conquest of his very first cross-country course over 2’6″ fences, Leo feels that he is now a master of all things jumping and truly believes that he can now leap with style over anything. Great! That is, after all, a hallmark of a great event horse. When in doubt, believe in yourself and pick your legs up high. After Paradise, he came home and did a local combined test and schooled his stadium round a few times, cantering all of the jumps in a semi-cohesive fashion.
At this point, it became clear to Leo that he was just so smart, so talented, so athletic, and obviously understood this whole jumping thing completely. So, why was I still pestering him about this “balancing the canter” thing, and what’s the deal with steering toward the middle of the jump? UGH and like, WHY do we have to pick up the right lead?! Cantering is cantering, OK LADY?!
Looking innocent enough after a jump school and a bath. Photo by Kate Samuels.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the teenage years. Remember that time when you thought you knew everything, and you were supremely ticked off every time somebody (read: your parents) tried to impart any kind of wisdom or structure into your life? I can see your wry smiles right now, as almost all of you know exactly what I’m talking about. Horses have this period, too, and thankfully it doesn’t last as long as the human teenage years, but it’s almost just as painful.
The teenage diaries of a giant Hanoverian are where frustrated sighs, angry temper tantrums and high-pitched “you just don’t understand!” fits go home to roost. NO I don’t want to hold consistent contact in the canter. NO I don’t want to listen to you on the way to the jump. YES I know exactly what I’m doing. STOP telling me how to live my life! When you add a certain amount of new physical strength and fitness to a horse who has been properly and slowly prepared for his job, sometimes you get the magical solution of a confident teenager. Ta da!
As for now, my approach is simple: wait it out. I’m not instigating fights with him, but I’m certainly not giving in to his tantrums and fits about simple things. I’m happy that he is feeling bold and sassy, and I don’t want to punish him for that or teach him that it’s an undesirable trait. I just want him to take it down a tick and learn to control his brain a little more. I think he’s never felt so strong in his life, and so he just can’t contain himself from exploring all the new speeds and jumping the highest he can just because. All of these things are great, just in moderation. When he gets to Advanced, we can revisit the subject of him being the king of the world, but until then, it looks like lots of canter pole grids and patient repetition.
Dear Leo,
I am truly, truly glad that you enjoy jumping. I am so happy that you find cross country to be both exciting and interesting, and that you are not overly frightened of, well, any of the jumps. It makes my heart sing to know that you are now more than willing to complete the course of obstacles with enthusiasm. However, here are some ground rules that you might be willing to consider in the near future:
- Distances are a thing, and the sooner you learn that I’m here to help you choose the most satisfactory one, the better.
- Being angry that I’m suggesting slowing down by throwing your head vigorously into the air and shaking it at a high rate of speed is not helpful. In fact, I feel confident in saying that it is the opposite of helpful. How can you even see the jumps when you do that?
- While it’s nice that you feel good about your jumping abilities, you haven’t even reached three feet yet, so let’s take it down a notch.
- I’m not sure if you’ve met me before, but I am more patient than a Siberian tiger stalking its prey and more stubborn than a mule. I’ve got forever.
Sincerely,
Your patient but unrelenting rider
