Do your ears hang low?

Part of trusting Dakota came with the understanding of her body language. Every fear or emotion she was dealing with I needed to learn to read through her only means of communication- body language. I knew that if her ears were pinned all the way back, she was NOT happy. I knew to always give her a pat when walking behind her. But each and every lesson, I was constantly asking my trainer questions like, "Are these relaxed ears or spooky ears?", "What is she looking at?", or "Why did she just make that noise with her nose like she is pissed off?"( which in fact means she is relaxed). Even when she would whinny, I would get nervous. Is she yelling? Is she upset? NO. I was constantly trying to find ways to see her in a negative light- I wasn't realizing that she was just saying hi! Horses are gregarious, they are social animals. It makes them nervous being in a ring alone, and I would be nervous with more horses in the ring. I began to learn that being around other horses in a ring would help her relax which in turn allowed me to relax. I began to learn that if her ears are flopping, she is relaxed. If they are forward completely, she is listening and wanting to work for me. I began to learn what it meant for her to be "looky"- when to expect that she wouldn't be fully focused on working with potential of spooking. I had yet to experience a Dakota spook, and my only experience with falls and spooks was definitely not positive.


I had finally decided I was going to participate in a schooling show in the adult walk trot class for both equitation and pleasure. This was both exciting and nerve-wrecking. With my history in musical theatre, my training always came from the mindset that you never go on stage opening night without multiple run-throughs. Because of weather, scheduling, my fixed mindset, and Dakota's leg soreness, our time to "practice" before the show became very limited. I wasn't using my days off from my lessons to get saddle time- not because I didn't want to practice, but because I was still too frightened to be out in the ring alone with her. In fact, even walking her out to the ring while on her was loaded with anxiety on my behalf. I became obsessed with watching her ears, her eyes, the trees, the sounds around us. This should have been a huge indicator to me that I simply wasn't ready for this show. But I am not a quitter- never have been, especially with a challenge like this. But I wasn't going into it with the right mindset. I kept thinking, we need practice, practice, practice. I was stressing about getting every single thing perfect. I had no idea what a show was even like- in fact, I had no idea what the difference was between the two "classes". I also had no idea what went into prepping for a show- cleaning all your tack, baths, clippings, trimming the mane, etc. There were so many details and so little time. This only increased my anxiety. I was not any closer to overcoming my fear, nor was I any closer to trusting her.

The week of the show I was in a complete state of frustration. For a week and a half we had been trying different saddles on her. The first wasn't a right fit for her as it pinched her in weird places- yet it was a good fit for me. The next saddle was great for both of us, however a saddle would not fix the bigger problems we were facing.

I had never ridden her in the show ring- in fact, I was always to afraid to go to a bigger ring, especially one with jumps in it and more open space. The first step to even thinking about participating in the show was riding her in the show ring. I was loaded with anxiety. The first ride I was anxious about the ring, the saddle, the other riders who didn't know riding etiquette and expected me to have eyes in the back of my head.I knew that anxiety inside of me would transfer to her. In fact, she knew every feeling I always had and would think, "If she is nervous, should I be?" But I thought it was all in my body- never once did I stop to think it had anything to do with my OWN thinking. The next lesson was even worse. She tried to canter and rear. I was afraid to give her any cues to trot because it felt like race horses waiting for the bell at the gates. My trainer had told me that the show was not set in stone- I could show up the day of and decide not to participate. But that would be quitting in my mind. I was being selfish. I wasn't letting her prove to me that I could trust her. Would I participate, regardless of others' opinions?

While I will continue this story in my next post with the outcome of the show, I have some questions for my readers. Have any of you ever found that your own mind got in the way of you achieving something or making the right decision for not only your own safety but for the safety of others, whether it be your horse or even someone close to you?