Friday, September 9, 2011

Remembering...

This, is Jazzy. a 17.2 hand high Thoroughbred mare whom we boarded at our farm a couple years ago.


17.2 hands... That's two inches shy of being 6 feet tall at the shoulders... Include her neck and head, and you were looking up at a 7-8 foot tall animal. Oy.

 I found this picture amongst the many files in the murky depths of our computer, and it gave me a smile as I remembered that horse...

She was an ex-racehorse, who had been literally forgotten in her owner's back pasture for five years... Her legs bore the scars from her accident that ended her racing career, and her face bore the mark of a halter that had been worn constantly for many years... I honestly thought that horse was going to keel over and die when she first came. She looked so horrid...

 Despite her looming size, and the fact that she hadn't been handled for years, Jazzy was still relatively gentle around people. Well, providing you played the game by her rules.

I had trained a couple horses in the past, and Jazzy's new owner asked if I would be interested in re-training Jazzy to be a western pleasure/gaming horse. I still remember the thrill at the prospect... Oh man I miss training horses....

And so I began. Or, I tried at least... I tried to introduce the bit to Jazzy, and got to see first hand just what a 17.2 hand horse can do in full fury. That horse wanted nothing to do with a bit, and wasn't afraid to let me know it! I tried two different hackamores (bitless bridles), but she blew up at the pressure on her nose. So what did we do? Well, I rode that huge horse with nothing more than a halter and lead rope. She accepted the compromise. ;)

I do believe Jazzy taught me more about horse training, than any other horse or book ever has... She was extremely barn sour and herd bound. If you tacked her up in the barn, she would firmly plant herself right where she was, and nothing in the world would move that horse, until you took the tack off. She went utterly berserk when her stall mate, Peaches, was out of sight, and more than once I almost got slammed against the barn wall as she wildly tried to look for her friend.

When she was finally tacked up outside, she would only go one direction: Towards the barn. She would side pass, walk backwards, do a roll back, whatever she felt was needed to get herself going towards her barn. Everyday, I rode her out and asked for only one thing: A straight line. I remember one day in particular, she would NOT straighten out, and was continuously trying to turn around and go back to the barn. I decided there and then that two could play at this game, so I made that horse keep the arc she was doing so well, and I trotted her in a big circle for an hour and a half. She fought me for the first 45 minutes. Wanting to break away from the pressure, trying to go back to the barn, trying to go straight for once!!! But no, I kept that horse going, and going, and going. Circle, after circle, after circle....

But you know what? After the first 45 minutes, I felt her relax.... Her ears swiveled back to listen to me, and for the first time, we moved in harmony... That was an incredible moment. After that day, Jazzy began listening better. She still wanted her barn, but she no longer fought me. Our straight lines got longer each day, and I still rode her with the halter.

 She was a proud animal... Aristocratic and well bred. She couldn't be handled with any type of force, I learned, but needed a sensitive, yet firm, hand. We played Parrelli games together, and she eventually learned that it was okay to be alone.

I worked that horse every single day for an average of two hours. We played; we worked; we watched each other. After three solid months of working with her, she was sold by her owner to a family that had four little girls. They were delighted with Jazzy's calm temperament, and how easy she was to ride. The little girls loved her to no end. Alas, this story doesn't have a happily-ever-after ending... One month after being sold, Jazzy colicked again in the night, while the owners were away. She was found dead the next morning. :(

I was shocked when I heard the news. I worked so hard on that horse, and now she was dead!?

I guess that's life for ya'... One thing is for sure though; Jazzy is one horse I will never forget.


1 comment:

  1. sigh... I want to train horses... and I haven't even ridden one. Go figure!

    Thanks for posting the story, Caity!

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