bailey41

You wanna see true character chemistry?  John and Aeryn from Farscape.  Here's the perfect description:

Perfect true chemistry

 I have a horse, his name is Nikki (Well, we have 6, actually, but Nik is the important one today).  

Nikki is 27.  I bought him as an unbroke 2 year old, and I've had him for 25 years.  He literally is my first horse, the first horse that was mine, all mine, and I have the receipt to prove it.  I paid $800 for him, and had a complete vet check done on him.  The complete vet check, including x-rays and bloodwork cost me $200.  Now, I'd probably pay at least the price of the horse for the vet check alone.  

I had to take out a loan to pay for him, and he was the first thing I actually paid off -- I remember the sense of accomplishment that I felt when I handed the last dollar to the bank.  

I broke and trained him myself.  

I spent the first year just bonding with him, because his knees were still open and I didn't want to hurt him.  Unusual, I know, but it was the right thing to do. 

We had a wonderful relationship throughout his whole life.

We played in the pasture that first year, and I remember walking down the big hill in the pasture and hearing a galloping horse behind me. It was Nikki.  He was running straight at me.  So, I stepped left to get out of his way.  He turned toward me.  I stepped right to get out of his way.  He turned toward me.  By then, there was no room to move so I bent over and covered my head, expecting the worst.  The hoofbeats stopped.  I stood up and he was standing six inches behind me, looking at me with his incredibly intelligent brown eyes,  his always white blaze reflecting the sunlight. Ten seconds of look, then he tossed his head, nimbly stepped around me and continued down the hill.  I know he was laughing. He was making a point -- "I could kill you, but I choose not to."

I remember the first time I got on his back, my husband holding his head.  I slowly got up there, keeping my profile as low as possible, one leg on each side, laying on his neck, then slowly sat up.  He turned his head and looked into my eyes, a long look, and I know he was thinking "Oh, this is what's next", before calmly turning back to my husband.  

He gave me a hard time only twice.  

The first time he bounced me onto his neck and then over his head, onto my back in front of him, and then he reared and put both front feet down, next to my ears, one on each side of my head.  

The second time, he reared on me, and I bailed off.  I landed on my butt, rolled over to get up, but he had other plans.  He came down, and fell.  He rolled onto my legs.  Luckily, he rolled onto me with that magical place between his last rib and his hip bone, and all I felt was pressure.  I looked around and all I saw was a big Quarter Horse ass.  "Get up!" I shouted at him, and smacked him on the ass.  He did, and we were both uninjured.

He was a joy to work with.  He had never been abused, and we had an amazing working partnership, so all I had to do was show him what I wanted and he did it.  I did dressage with him, and he won the first class I entered him in.  I wanted to jump, so I taught him to jump and we jumped.

He was push-button, but I was the only one that knew his buttons.  He was my Black Stallion.  

Don't ask me how I did it, because I'm not a professional trainer, I just treated him right and he appreciated that, I think.  I just handled him with respect and love, the way I felt he would want to be handled, and now I realize that I was doing "natural horsemanship" with him.  Nik is proof positive that it works.  

My beautiful, perfect Nikki had a stroke and choked last night, and today we sent him on, to his next life, or the next plane. Whatever he chooses.  

I have some minor animal communication skills, and Nik told me he was ready and showed me where he wanted his body to be buried.  I honored his wishes.  Of course I would.

Rusty, my Thoroughbred who is Nik's successor and whose picture is my icon, was the only horse of the other five who stood vigil with us while our veterinarian injected the final shot that sent Nik to a better place.  He stayed absolutely centered in front of the closed gate, ears up and wholly focused on us, while Nikki passed on.   Rusty is more than just a horse, he's an old soul, kind and wise beyond his 8 years.  I had told him earlier that I needed his support, and he freely gave it to me, my husband, my veterinarian who did that vet check 25 years ago, and to Nikki, he gave the ultimate honor.  He stayed in the face of certain death, and supported Nik while he went to the next place.  And Nik went without fear.  

Respect, and Love:  It's the only proper way to treat your best friend.  

So Long, Nikkolaus, your beautiful spirit will never be forgotten, and if you choose to return to us, we'll welcome you with open arms.  



 

You know, I didn't go to college, but I've got an IQ of 140. That doesn't mean that I'm a freaking genius, because I ain't. I just read a lot.

I have horses. I ride horses. I train my own horses. I'm always looking for new ways to ride and train horses.

On my quest for new information, I read this book called “Ride With Your Mind Clinic” by Mary Wanless.

I remember her saying she got this from somewhere else, and she probably tells us where in her book, but I read it in her book, so I'm using her for reference. I don't have her book here at home, it's at the barn and it's 1:30 in the morning, so I can't go get the book to find out. I'm sure there's some really huge psychological study about this, but I really only cared about it in reference to riding horses.

Now, because I'm really no writer either, I'm going to just distill down what I “got” out of her book. Any of my English instructors reading this will probably find me and hurt me, so I apologize to them in advance.

New riding disciplines are difficult to learn because your brain has to form new neural pathways to associate the new words and concepts you are hearing with the physical movement you need to make to properly ride a horse in the discipline you have chosen, whatever it is. Riding with excellence is hard work, both mentally and physically.

People need repetition to get things trapped in their heads. i.e. to “get with the program.” They also need repetition of physical movement to get proper movement into their bodies.

Sometimes radical ideas need to be said in different ways to find the proper pathways in a brain, to associate those words with the proper movement of your body. To also make a connection between the new radical ideas and the old inside your head.

For example: In horseback riding, instructors are constantly harping on their students to “Put your heels down” or to “put your weight in your heels.” It's a safety issue, because if your weight is in your heels and not in your butt, you are less likely to fall off and get hurt. Well, sometimes if you're a new riding student (and sometimes even if you've been riding for years), neither one of those make sense to you. So, instructors have to look for different ways to tell a student that they need their heels down. Put your heels down, lower your heels, put your weight in your heels, stretch your calves, etc...etc.

Sometimes, it's as easy as a simple misdirect: “lift your toes up”.
Toes come up, heels go down.
Simple.

This is how “Haven” compares to horseback riding in my head.

The presentation of Haven is so radically different from anything else I've watched on television, it's like being trapped somewhere in between the “lower you heels” / “raise your toes up” argument in my head.

I came through the first episode of “Haven” with a big fat question mark on my forehead. I like Sci-Fi, I like Stephen King, I wanted to like this show, but the presentation of it was so different to me it kept smacking into the brick wall of my brain. I had to work really hard to stay with it, I almost gave up.

By episode three I liked the characters, but the brick wall was still there. Some of the mortar was missing though. I was still trying to put my heels down, and was making some progress, but not enough to be on the bandwagon that is “Haven.”

Somewhere around episode seven the simple misdirect I needed to form those new pathways in my head showed up. I don't even know what that misdirect was, but I'm grateful for it. I lifted my toes up, the brick wall fell down and suddenly the genius of “Haven” showed through in all it's glory.

It was an epiphany.

For those of you who are Sci-Fi fans, and Stephen King fans, I highly encourage you to do the extra work and form those neural pathways to watch “Haven.” You won't be disappointed.