Saturday, September 18, 2010
Twilight Rolling
A series of pictures involving Twilight's favorite past time. . .getting down and dirty A.K.A rolling.
A New Name
Tylo and I were now partners, whether we wanted it or not. I was thoroughly enjoying having a one girl horse, I was the only one who rode her, brushed her, now that I look back it was obvious that Gretchen had planned on me owning her from the beginning. For some reason however, it never struck me that my relationship with Tylo was anything more than care taker and rider, not even once did I realize that I was acting as a foster owner. The horse was not mine, but at the same time she was. I at least was oblivious to the situation.
When Gretchen and Risa approached me about giving a new name to Tylo who we had been calling "Mama," or "The Mare," for two months, it did not dawn on me that naming a horse was something only owners do. I just gave them a huge ear to ear grin and set to work.
Renaming Tylo was a challenge, there were no restrictions. Mateo's name needed to be short with Spanish heritage to honor his Andalusian father. Tylo had no heritage in her breeding, she was grade, a mix of Shire, Thoroughbred, and Saddlebred in varying degrees. I asked Gretchen what "The Mare" had been called in the past. Gretchen rattled off a short list of names, "Lady, Lady Godiva, and Tylo."
Renaming her Lady Godiva was a possibility, the name as a whole was a rich creamy chocolate mouthful, but it was to extravagant . I thought about shortening it to Godiva, or Lady, but Tylo did not act like a Queen or a Lady. She was lazy at best with moments of unbreakable stubbornness.
Her age was something to consider as well, Tylo was 8 years old and a completely new unfamiliar name would be hard to comprehend. I wanted "The Mare" to learn her new name as quickly as possible, if I gave her a name that sounded nothing like her old one, it would take time, a long time before she understood that it was hers.
Keeping Tylo as Tylo was not an option. The name was not "pretty" on my tongue. It sounded like a cacophony a horrible combination of Tie as in a knot and low as in as close to the ground as possible.
To solve the problem, I took the consonants and the Y out of her name. I had a T, a Y that acted as and I, and a L.
This was my thought process:
Tilly? No that name was almost as bad as Tylo and I had a friend with a pet Cocktail named Tilly.
T,Y=I,L, TIL, LIT. . .lite. . .light. . .Twinkle twinkle little star. . .Starlight? No The Mare is not white, she is a black bay. Twinkle twinkle little star. . .Twinkle. . .Tw. . .Two. . .Twi. . .light. Twilight! It fit like a glove, the mare acted like she was in her Twilight years of life, and she had a dark coat with flecks of white speckled across her back and haunches, just like stars in the sky at night.
Naming accomplished, I renamed the nameless mare Twilight. And then the vampire crazy hit. . .Oops.
Names, are powerful things, they bring people closer together. Parents spend time thinking, listing, pondering over names for their babies, and when the name is given it becomes a bond. It is a connection between two creatures. Naming another being, a horse on my own soaked me will love and pride, and drowned me in affection for Twilight.
When Gretchen and Risa approached me about giving a new name to Tylo who we had been calling "Mama," or "The Mare," for two months, it did not dawn on me that naming a horse was something only owners do. I just gave them a huge ear to ear grin and set to work.
Renaming Tylo was a challenge, there were no restrictions. Mateo's name needed to be short with Spanish heritage to honor his Andalusian father. Tylo had no heritage in her breeding, she was grade, a mix of Shire, Thoroughbred, and Saddlebred in varying degrees. I asked Gretchen what "The Mare" had been called in the past. Gretchen rattled off a short list of names, "Lady, Lady Godiva, and Tylo."
Renaming her Lady Godiva was a possibility, the name as a whole was a rich creamy chocolate mouthful, but it was to extravagant . I thought about shortening it to Godiva, or Lady, but Tylo did not act like a Queen or a Lady. She was lazy at best with moments of unbreakable stubbornness.
Her age was something to consider as well, Tylo was 8 years old and a completely new unfamiliar name would be hard to comprehend. I wanted "The Mare" to learn her new name as quickly as possible, if I gave her a name that sounded nothing like her old one, it would take time, a long time before she understood that it was hers.
Keeping Tylo as Tylo was not an option. The name was not "pretty" on my tongue. It sounded like a cacophony a horrible combination of Tie as in a knot and low as in as close to the ground as possible.
To solve the problem, I took the consonants and the Y out of her name. I had a T, a Y that acted as and I, and a L.
This was my thought process:
Tilly? No that name was almost as bad as Tylo and I had a friend with a pet Cocktail named Tilly.
T,Y=I,L, TIL, LIT. . .lite. . .light. . .Twinkle twinkle little star. . .Starlight? No The Mare is not white, she is a black bay. Twinkle twinkle little star. . .Twinkle. . .Tw. . .Two. . .Twi. . .light. Twilight! It fit like a glove, the mare acted like she was in her Twilight years of life, and she had a dark coat with flecks of white speckled across her back and haunches, just like stars in the sky at night.
Naming accomplished, I renamed the nameless mare Twilight. And then the vampire crazy hit. . .Oops.
Names, are powerful things, they bring people closer together. Parents spend time thinking, listing, pondering over names for their babies, and when the name is given it becomes a bond. It is a connection between two creatures. Naming another being, a horse on my own soaked me will love and pride, and drowned me in affection for Twilight.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Dear Readers
I am writing to you my dear readers to thank you for your support. I have been following the stats in my blog like an obsessive stalker and am thrilled to see the results. However, I am writing to plead with you to stay with me for the next week or so, even though there will be no posts. My blog has been invaded by spammers, *spits on spammer's shoe* and I hate to see my writing meddled with, so I will not be continuing till there website graphite has been removed. Please be patient with me and curse the spammers when you get a chance.
May they always be caught at red lights, find their left shoelace untied, and may old ladies smack them in the head with there hard brittle canes and walkers.
May they always be caught at red lights, find their left shoelace untied, and may old ladies smack them in the head with there hard brittle canes and walkers.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Pictures of Me Riding Twilight
These are not pictures from our first ride together, these were taken near September, when we had graduated from the round pen to the big arena.
The First Ride
Tylo and I walked slowly up the dirt road that lead to the arena above, a long ellipse shaped space surrounded by an electric fence and filled with a thick layer of tan sand, and a round pen down to the far end of the arena. It had a great view, on the top of its own plateau. To the east was Bishops grey house a lone fortress on a hill of perfectly manicured lawn. I never personally met the man, all I knew was his was incredibly wealthy and extremely sad. He personally had no interest in horses, his ex-wife did. He had built the arena, the spacious barn and paddocks all for her carving out the hills next to his house to suit her purpose. The marriage had not lasted, she had left him taking her horses with her, leaving him in a large empty house with a shrill chattering Cockatoo.
The house must of caused him pain, because he was trying to sell it. Personally I hoped it never would because if Bishop moved then Gretchen would have to relocate as well, she even admitted that she was to the dregs of her horse stable resources.
To the west was the city of Boise which stretched across the horizon, a sea of deep green tress with pools of light emerald and small specks of fall oranges and reds, in the center the skyscrapers stood tall and barren, like square blocks of sand stone, to the north west were the mountains rolling like waves, growing higher and more blue the farther away they stretched.
Of course in order to see this diverse view I had to get Tylo and myself to the top of the dirt road. It was not easy, Tylo did not like traveling away from the herd of horses she had grown so familiar with, especial with Mateo pacing along the green metal fence at a gallop in their paddock whinnying shrilly to her. She would stop ever few steps and refuse to move, I would coax her gently tugging the reins and reprimanding her for not trusting me. I would walk back to her give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder then tap her with the flat of my hand to encourage her to move. Progress was slow, but eventually we made it to the top, the sound of her hooves changing from the gravely crackle to the hollow echoing of cement. I lead her into the arena and down the middle to the round pen holding the reins loosely in my hand so she could keep her head up and swivel her ears and face to investigate the new space.
We walked into the round pen, Gretchen told me to walker her around the enclosed space and let her become accustomed to it. Circling and changing direction till she relaxed. I stopped her near the fence and let her sniff the sun flowers surrounding the pen, their stems were so long that their flower head bent and bowed over into the round pen. I knew Adam was very fond of sunflowers, he loved to snack on them during our riding lessons. Tylo was not interested. Gretchen told me we were ready to ride after a few minutes. She brought in the mounting block and told me to test her reaction to being directed by the reins. From the ground I gently pulled the reins left and right, Tylo let her head follow the reins, but her eyes were on me. Slowly, deliberately I leaned into her side and raised my leg into the stirrup, Tylo turned her head to watch curious. Then I swung up and settled into the saddle.
The seconds between lasted ages, waiting for a reaction. But Tylo just sat there, I gently tapped her with my legs and clucked and she moved on at a slow walk. The methods we went through were very mundane, circles and moving in a straight line across the circle, and finally a quick posting trot. It was wonderfully uneventful, she responded quickly to my requests, by the end we were both fairly exhausted. Tylo and I made a wonderful pair, two sweaty girls, lanky and curious about everything.
I took off her amber English leather saddle, and removed her bridle. I was incredibly surprised when as I turned to drape her bridle over the fence, she rubbed her head up my back. This was the first time she had made physical contact with me of her own choice. I wheeled around in surprise, and Tylo did not move away, instead she rubbed her sweaty face against my torso, knocking me back a few steps. I reached out my hands and gently scratched her face, she leaned into it bobbing her head, yes, that feels wonderful keep scratching.
I looked at Gretchen as she and I marveled at the sudden change. I've never seen a horse act that way, she said. As it turned out Tylo just wanted to get back down to the barn and was trying to encourage me to put the bridle back on so we could go. Regardless Tylo had proven herself to be intelligent, but she still lacked the spark of a character I wanted to see.
The house must of caused him pain, because he was trying to sell it. Personally I hoped it never would because if Bishop moved then Gretchen would have to relocate as well, she even admitted that she was to the dregs of her horse stable resources.
To the west was the city of Boise which stretched across the horizon, a sea of deep green tress with pools of light emerald and small specks of fall oranges and reds, in the center the skyscrapers stood tall and barren, like square blocks of sand stone, to the north west were the mountains rolling like waves, growing higher and more blue the farther away they stretched.
Of course in order to see this diverse view I had to get Tylo and myself to the top of the dirt road. It was not easy, Tylo did not like traveling away from the herd of horses she had grown so familiar with, especial with Mateo pacing along the green metal fence at a gallop in their paddock whinnying shrilly to her. She would stop ever few steps and refuse to move, I would coax her gently tugging the reins and reprimanding her for not trusting me. I would walk back to her give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder then tap her with the flat of my hand to encourage her to move. Progress was slow, but eventually we made it to the top, the sound of her hooves changing from the gravely crackle to the hollow echoing of cement. I lead her into the arena and down the middle to the round pen holding the reins loosely in my hand so she could keep her head up and swivel her ears and face to investigate the new space.
We walked into the round pen, Gretchen told me to walker her around the enclosed space and let her become accustomed to it. Circling and changing direction till she relaxed. I stopped her near the fence and let her sniff the sun flowers surrounding the pen, their stems were so long that their flower head bent and bowed over into the round pen. I knew Adam was very fond of sunflowers, he loved to snack on them during our riding lessons. Tylo was not interested. Gretchen told me we were ready to ride after a few minutes. She brought in the mounting block and told me to test her reaction to being directed by the reins. From the ground I gently pulled the reins left and right, Tylo let her head follow the reins, but her eyes were on me. Slowly, deliberately I leaned into her side and raised my leg into the stirrup, Tylo turned her head to watch curious. Then I swung up and settled into the saddle.
The seconds between lasted ages, waiting for a reaction. But Tylo just sat there, I gently tapped her with my legs and clucked and she moved on at a slow walk. The methods we went through were very mundane, circles and moving in a straight line across the circle, and finally a quick posting trot. It was wonderfully uneventful, she responded quickly to my requests, by the end we were both fairly exhausted. Tylo and I made a wonderful pair, two sweaty girls, lanky and curious about everything.
I took off her amber English leather saddle, and removed her bridle. I was incredibly surprised when as I turned to drape her bridle over the fence, she rubbed her head up my back. This was the first time she had made physical contact with me of her own choice. I wheeled around in surprise, and Tylo did not move away, instead she rubbed her sweaty face against my torso, knocking me back a few steps. I reached out my hands and gently scratched her face, she leaned into it bobbing her head, yes, that feels wonderful keep scratching.
I looked at Gretchen as she and I marveled at the sudden change. I've never seen a horse act that way, she said. As it turned out Tylo just wanted to get back down to the barn and was trying to encourage me to put the bridle back on so we could go. Regardless Tylo had proven herself to be intelligent, but she still lacked the spark of a character I wanted to see.
Preparation
The week had been cold, blistering winds had made riding unthinkable as Autumn swept down from the mountains and settled on Bishop's hill side, but today the wind was still, and the sun had selfishly claimed the entire sky for himself. It was a hot day, a surprise in the middle of August.
I came down to the barn as usual, prepared to spend the day wistfully brushing Tylo and skirting around Mateo but Gretchen had other plans.
"I think The Mare is ready for a ride." she said suddenly and with a smug grin under her life is good cap. I looked up at her unable to keep my mouth from spreading into a huge smile, Really? I squeaked, my voice rising to a childlike octave in excitement.
I raced out and grabbed Tylo, spending about 5 minutes trying to get her into the stall while blocking Mateo from coming in with her. He squealed at me in protest as I countered his every move to try and shove into the small cozy space with us. Once I had firmly shut and latched the door, he stared in at Tylo and myself like a mistreated prisoner, glaring from under his lashes through the metal bars, his nose and body hidden by the wall of wood of the door, drawing attention to his small stature. Tylo shifted nervously from side to side, knowing something different was about to happen, something that had my energy flowing like electricity in the space.
Everything had to be done slowly, I did not want to scare the mare. Gretchen still was not sure of how familiar Tylo was with a saddle and rider. First was the saddle blanket, one of our heavier English blankets, used in the winter time for warmth, but in this case, it was for comfortable padding on Tylo angular back. She sniffed it with slight interest, almost like a queen inspecting her clothing. Her eyes seemed to say, this is it? I do know what a blanket is you silly girl. Why are you walking so gingerly with it? I know it doesn't bite you should to. She seemed to reprimand me for acting the way I did. Tylo did not mind the foam pad either, she barely glanced at it as I slowly walked into her stall with it held out in front of my body. You are very smart, pretty girl. I told her.
The saddle was different, she snorted when I brought it to her side, billowing her nostrils then intently examining it. I let her run her whiskers over the leather seat, the pommel, and even flipped it over so she could run her muzzle along the tree that would rest upon her back. Finally I raised it up and gently settled it on her back. She stood perfectly still, muscles neither relaxed nor trembling with tension. Finally we both released our breath in loud sighs. The greatest challenge was finding a girth that was small enough to go around her stomach. If I remember correctly I think it took seven different girths before Gretchen and I finally found one that would suffice.
The bridle and bit were easy, after she observed the tangled mass of leather in my hands she let my toss the reins over her head and slip the bridle on over her ears, making me rise on tip-toes to reach her aloft head. She mouthed at the soft plastic bit for a while rolling her tongue under it to investigate the taste and feel of a odd slightly foreign object in her mouth. We were ready to go after a good month of waiting and 50 minutes of preparation Tylo and I were ready to ride.
I came down to the barn as usual, prepared to spend the day wistfully brushing Tylo and skirting around Mateo but Gretchen had other plans.
"I think The Mare is ready for a ride." she said suddenly and with a smug grin under her life is good cap. I looked up at her unable to keep my mouth from spreading into a huge smile, Really? I squeaked, my voice rising to a childlike octave in excitement.
I raced out and grabbed Tylo, spending about 5 minutes trying to get her into the stall while blocking Mateo from coming in with her. He squealed at me in protest as I countered his every move to try and shove into the small cozy space with us. Once I had firmly shut and latched the door, he stared in at Tylo and myself like a mistreated prisoner, glaring from under his lashes through the metal bars, his nose and body hidden by the wall of wood of the door, drawing attention to his small stature. Tylo shifted nervously from side to side, knowing something different was about to happen, something that had my energy flowing like electricity in the space.
Everything had to be done slowly, I did not want to scare the mare. Gretchen still was not sure of how familiar Tylo was with a saddle and rider. First was the saddle blanket, one of our heavier English blankets, used in the winter time for warmth, but in this case, it was for comfortable padding on Tylo angular back. She sniffed it with slight interest, almost like a queen inspecting her clothing. Her eyes seemed to say, this is it? I do know what a blanket is you silly girl. Why are you walking so gingerly with it? I know it doesn't bite you should to. She seemed to reprimand me for acting the way I did. Tylo did not mind the foam pad either, she barely glanced at it as I slowly walked into her stall with it held out in front of my body. You are very smart, pretty girl. I told her.
The saddle was different, she snorted when I brought it to her side, billowing her nostrils then intently examining it. I let her run her whiskers over the leather seat, the pommel, and even flipped it over so she could run her muzzle along the tree that would rest upon her back. Finally I raised it up and gently settled it on her back. She stood perfectly still, muscles neither relaxed nor trembling with tension. Finally we both released our breath in loud sighs. The greatest challenge was finding a girth that was small enough to go around her stomach. If I remember correctly I think it took seven different girths before Gretchen and I finally found one that would suffice.
The bridle and bit were easy, after she observed the tangled mass of leather in my hands she let my toss the reins over her head and slip the bridle on over her ears, making me rise on tip-toes to reach her aloft head. She mouthed at the soft plastic bit for a while rolling her tongue under it to investigate the taste and feel of a odd slightly foreign object in her mouth. We were ready to go after a good month of waiting and 50 minutes of preparation Tylo and I were ready to ride.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Patients
I'm always amused by the similarities between me and Twilight, how much we have gone through together. Once I reached a healthy weight it was now my turn to be the stressed, patient parent and wait for Tylo to gain enough weight to comfortably carry a saddle. . .and rider. Gretchen assured me that I would be the very first to ride her, to test her unknown talent. We did not know if she had ever been ridden with a commanding rider on her back. The man Gretchen took Tylo from claimed his children had ridden on her back before, but Gretchen and myself both speculated as to what that meant. Just sitting on a horses back and actually riding one are two completely different areas. Regardless I was ecstatic and could not contain my inpatients as to when Tylo would be ready to ride.
I was given a double sided mirror from this experience, I had lived through the torture of gaining weight and now I watched anxiously from the other side. Every day I came to the barn and asked has Tylo gained enough weight yet? Can I ride? Like a constantly whining child asking how far away Christmas is I repeated the question day after day.
I was given a double sided mirror from this experience, I had lived through the torture of gaining weight and now I watched anxiously from the other side. Every day I came to the barn and asked has Tylo gained enough weight yet? Can I ride? Like a constantly whining child asking how far away Christmas is I repeated the question day after day.
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