Trick Training Saturday

So there we were on Saturday afternoon! We tried to be dressed against the onslaught of the wind and the chill, but most of us failed dismally. Well, I know I did. However, that did not curb our enthusiasm as we ventured outside and next door to the riding school to enjoy the trick training demonstration.

Wicus and his daughter, Aluschka demonstrated the way they teach their (and other) horses trick training. Well not the way really, but the outcome, as you can see Aluschka hanging from the saddle - just as they do in the cowboy and other western movies where the cowboy hides from the gunmen or shoots out from the shelter of his horse's neck. They also demonstrated sliding a leg over the horses' back as the horse is still trotting, or in other instances, going at full speed. Perhaps Butter was also a bit cold on Saturday, because she only went as fast as a trot. It was still quite impressive, as Aluschka swung her leg over, hang down from the saddle and then pushed herself back up again with one leg touching the ground and then swinging back up into the saddle again.

She ended the demonstration by flinging herself off the horse, to land on the ground and roll away, as the stuntmen do, so the last photo is not of her falling down, but a calculated falldown-and-roll-over-jump!

They also showed us other training techniques, but I cannot write too much about that, as those techniques are familiar to us, we know them, we employ them and we incorporate them with Monty Robert's joining up techniques, and common sense and remembering the herd mentality of the horse.

We would have enjoyed to see a bit more of the tricks, as they also show the horses lying down, or rearing up, but I think the cold became a bit too much and in the end, what we saw was quite enjoyable, but we would not suggest anybody try these at home. They are used for stunts in movies and for exhibitions, why anybody would want to do this on an outride besides just showing off, is beyond me.

So happy riding as usual, folks!

Weekend antics!

We have an exciting weekend ahead of us! While everyone will be sipping hot toddies and lounging in front of fires or watching dvd's under duvets (I am sickening myself with mental pictures!) we will be out watching a demonstration on trick training.

Alida has mentioned in her posts before that the two greys (Peanut and Butter) had been taught by a previous owner to do trick training, and so, he has agreed to do a demonstration tomorrow afternoon. The next door riding school has graciously agreed that we use their facilities and so I will endeavour to take a lot of pictures so that we can display them on the blog next week!

We have no idea what to expect but we understand that we will be suitably impressed, however, what remains to be seen is the MANNER in which the horses are treated, which is of paramount importance to us. As mentioned before, I am no fan of outdated or harsh training methods and neither is Alida, but we remain open-minded and will each write up our opinions formed after tomorrow.

So while we shiver in the breeze, enjoy staying warm this weekend and watch out for the report back next week!

Blog comments

Dear Readers

Apparently, our blog is behaving badly, so much so that our Readers battle to post comments! So even though it seems that our blog traffic is a mere trickle, we are receiving great feedback and we appreciate it tremendously! Thank you to all of you who have commented directly to us, or those who do so on Facebook! We will try and rectify the situation, however we are still slightly technologically challenged!

We welcome any helpful hints and or suggestions!

We would love to hear all the comments, and we would be more than happy to be able to respond to those comments, so to provide an alternative for now, please visit me on Facebook to leave a comment there should you wish to. Alida will be joining Facebook shortly too! It's about time, I'd say!!

Apparently the Cold will be invading us again soon! Stay warm everybody and please continue reading!

Justice has a name....by Alida

Justice has a name…..

In our little herd, we have Peanut and Butter – two grey mares of around 15.3 / 16h (haven’t officially measured) but a nice size nevertheless.  Then there is Dezzi – a feisty little Welsh mare, and then our two littlies – Elvis and Snowbell.

Peanut is soft.  Her body, her eyes, her nature – everything about her is good natured and amicable.  A real easy girl to get along with.  Butter is a bit more difficult, more stubborn, but once in the saddle, she will (reluctantly) comply with your requests, but you have to keep repeating the question!  Both have that “endurance horse” trot that is very economical, with their heads carried long and low, and once they get going, they look like they could carry on for hours.  Peanut more floaty, Butter workman like in her efforts.

Dezzi has spirit, the eyes of a dreamer, the legs of a supermodel and a kick like a donkey.  She went to an instructor for a month which was over far too soon, and now that she’s back, she will be used for riding lessons on the slightly bigger kids.  Her spirit is awesome.  She is a gentle soul with a streak of mischief in her that can cause two riders in quick succession to get dumped in exactly the same spot in the arena, but when you establish your authority, she retreats in minutes and becomes meek and mild.  I know that with time, the right training and gentle care, she will be a stunning little show pony.  But its as they say – pretty is as pretty does. 

Elvis is my rock, my hero.  A furry little Shetland, with a woolly winter coat, dark chestnut with black main and tail, and a white mark here and there.  Nothing phases him, and the only thing he ever gets grumpy about, is when his grazing time is interrupted or when the food is slow in coming.  He accepts anything, carries everything and does all of that with the same even temperament, slogging forward, carrying the world on his shoulders.

Then there is Snowbell.  Snowbell is a tiny little thing that is about hip high, but was ‘blessed’ with some seriously accurate back feet that can deliver justice in quick and harsh blows to the body / leg / backside of anybody that crosses her line (wherever she might decide to draw it).  She is in charge and knows it well.  The walk-in open stable is there for all to enjoy as they choose.  Should Snowbell decide she feels like some company, they can all stand happily and doze together.  But she can change her mind in an instant, and with ears pulled flat, she reverses towards those whose real or imagined transgression deserves a dose of her swift justice.  The only real opposition she gets is from the sole male figure in the herd – Elvis.  I’ve never seen him retaliate, but she also never seems to aim any of her aggravation against him either.  When she wants a little lie down, he dutifully stands guard over her, and where she goes, he follows.  She will happily share a pile of hay with him, where any of the others gets chased off with bared teeth and a squeal if they dare approach her. 

It’s a happy little herd, and I love to watch the powerplays, the silly games they play in the paddock, or just the peacefulness of it all at the end of the day as they graze with the last of the winter sun just dipping below the horizon, leaving me with a smile as I smell the feint smell of wood shavings, and listen to the quiet chewing, the odd snort and a deep sigh of contentment.

Sultan - A Cloete Boerperd

So, I was a bit hesitant to write Sultan's story, because I had to let him go after 12 years and it breaks my heart to remember.
I got Sultan as a 20 month old Boerperd Colt and from the beginning he was The King. We had two other colts (therefore 3 boys!) on the property, but Sultan established himself as the Top Ranking Official in no time. He then set about to assert himself over his humans too, but that caused some sparks, some laughs and some sore bones!

When you have an unruly stallion for twelve years, there will be amusing stories to tell! Like the time he decided to go visit the other paddock as it contained a very old mare, but he was very interested, just like Twister had been (Alida's Black Beauty!). Sultan promptly started to literally climb over the railing and more or less got stuck with the wooden pole pressing up against his abdomen. During his adventure, he also opened up a huge gash above one eye, so we had to get the vet out to stitch that up and to advise us about what to do with this naughty boy hanging over a pole! We had to take the pole down, as it was pressing into his stomach, which could end up causing a lot of internal damage! And so, Doc Dobie gave him a shot to quiet him down, and I held his big head in my lap while he was falling asleep and the doctor could stitch him up. Doc Dobie splashed a lot of sterile solution onto Sultan's head, which splashed down my front as well, and he jokingly told me that I had just been sterilized too!

No matter how serious a situation, we could always laugh about something!

I trained my big boy. This I can mention with Great Proudness today! Even though he was a stallion and I had more or less no idea what I was doing, I trained him to accept a rider, go through his paces and also to back up. Sultan was never treated harshly, he was not 'sacked out' as some people to this day do to horses, apparently to ensure they become 'bombproof'. Sultan was a stallion, ladies and gentleman, and he was not bombproof, but he was a gentle ride, always taking his cue from his rider. We had lots of kids on his back and he ran along with me leading him on, to reassure the kids.

Then I had a scare with him one day, but even the scare was not his fault. I was riding him on an outride, which is what I like to do with my horses, no showjumping or dressage as my horses and I only enjoy hacking out. I let them be horses and I enjoy them allowing me on their backs as they carry me safely where we want to go. That is the essence of my relationship with these noble and magnificent creatures. They are So strong, yet they gently carry us about.
So anyway, along came this big truck and as he passed us, the driver thought he was oh so funny, and he honked his horn at us. Sultan had a huge fright, as did I, but he only shied slightly. I, however was not amused and had a huge fright and so I got off, to stand by his head and calm him down. Apparently, the truck was dumping rocks at the quarry and so he soon returned, and as he passed us, he honked at us again! I was on the ground and because of this, Sultan had no reassurance and he bolted away, into the nearest veld. Luckily I had chosen a quiet day, so the traffic was more or less zero, but I had to whistle to Sultan to turn and run back to me, which he did, at top speed! To have a big horse run straight at you, is rather a daunting sight and feeling, but I knew he was running to me for his reassurance. He was shivering when he got to me and I had to calm him down, again!
Needless to say, we walked back home that day.
After that, I took him out once more, and for the first time ever, a dog that jumped up suddenly and barked, spooked him. Yet, he only started a quick run to the side and forward and as I was on his back, I could stop him and calm him down, which he did easily. Not long after these incidents, I had to move the horses to the farm in Groblersdal, as I had to move and could not take them with me where I was going.

Sultan and Czar stayed on the farm, in the bush, for two years. As I mentioned in Czar's story, I then could go and fetch Czar to bring him back to Johannesburg, but I could not bring Sultan and so I had to let him go. He went to a farmer in Groblersdal and he works on the farm on a daily basis.

I often wonder how my boy is doing and with the terrible horse sickness season we have had, I was too afraid to ask, but on Tuesday I found out that Sultan is alive and well and happy, the farmer enjoys him tremendously. He is a wonderful riding horse, so much so, that the farmer is now teaching his son to ride, on Sultan!

When I heard this story, my heart literally swelled up and I knew that I could now tell his story with a happy heart! Sultan is safe and happy! Still a stallion, still a naughty boy, still trying his luck, but to date still has had no riding accidents or casualties! I am so proud of my boy!

Fernando - by Alida

As some of you may already know, Fernando is a Thoroughbred, although at 17.2hh, he is certainly not your average size horse.  If you do the conversion, a 17.2h horse is 1.7 m tall at his withers.  Add his giraffe neck to that and when he stands gazing into the distance, he is truly a magnificent sight to behold.

He had 7 starts as a 3 year old in his racing career, and came nowhere – probably because it interfered with his grazing time!  But I just think that he does not have that fighting spirit required to win in a top competitive field.  He is just too gentle a soul.

For the purists : his breeding lines :  Some of his ancestors had excellent racing careers, but the apple fell just too far from the tree.  But its very lucky for me – I get to ride a very chilled (almost lazy) magnificent horse that is quite sensible and won’t get all silly just because others around him go galloping across the field.  But if his rider asks for it, he will gear up into racing mode and he enjoys a good run. 

                                                                FERNANDO 7 year old Bay ('03)

           Fahal (USA)                                                                                   Zephyr Girl (1993)

Silver Hawk (USA)   By Land By Sea (USA)                             Tumultuous (NZ)                         Lindross (GB) 

Roberto (USA) Griss Vitesse (USA)                                       Zephyr Bay (AUS)                 Miss Devine (NZ)

Sauce Boat (USA)   Like a Train (UA)                                     Ardross (IRE)              Linda's Fantasy (IRE)

                                                                         

Alida's Response

Anya I’m so proud of you!  I can only guess what it must have taken for you to enter into the big bad world of horseriding schools!  You did amazing!!  Even managed a tiny little jump over a cross bar which I really didn’t expect at all.  Well done girl. 

Anya is most complimentary about my riding skills – thanks Anya!  But its because she can compare my current skills to what it was when I was riding Twissie and knows about most of my injuries and all my fears and issues and their origins.  I just know that every time I ride, I do try and do it a little better than before, not only for myself, but for that wonderful horse Fernando too – he deserves to have a rider that tries incredibly hard every single time, because he does the same. 

One thing you must all know about Anya is that she is an anti.  Not as in my brother’s wife is auntie to my children.  But anti as in anti-authority, anti-establishment, anti-rules and anti-regulations.  So the fact that she was wearing a riding hat, was a bonus! Very un-Anya.  That, and riding English style on an English saddle nogals, made for much entertainment.  And she looked very fancy with chaps, jodhs and boots!  A real proper riding school rider, correctly turned out…very un-Anya hahaha.  If you look at one of the pics of Anya on the big grey mare, Peanut, you’ll see the western saddle that has travelled with Anya over the years.  That’s more her style.  Very similar to mine I had, that I sold years ago (again, bangs head against desk for stupidity)  Mine was just black.  Handmade by El Paso, beautiful workmanship, and still going after many many years.  Just needs the odd fixing due to Czartjie being his normal stallion self!.

Anya is still the same, the original plaasjapie, kaalvoetkind that I got to know so many years ago.  Life happens, but unlike many of us, Anya did not become blinded by the big city lights or modern technology.  She uses it to her advantage and to run her business – and is STILL bugging me to upgrade to a Blackberry!, but for the most part, still prefers the simple things in life.

When Anya changed rein with that 180 degree turn on the forehand, I really did pack up laughing.  But I was laughing with her – not at her! 

Not because it was a “mistake” (I would not laugh at anybody for making one as I make so many every day) but because it is EXACTLY what I would expect Anya to do!  Ag, little Chester is so bombproof.  He is, after all, a schoolmaster pony and has taught most of the young adults at the riding school as little kiddies learning to canter for the first time.  He is an awesome little pony.  His body might be small, but he has the heart of a giant, and I’ve seen him jump extraordinary heights in the showjumping arena, and he can do a very decent halfpass and reinback in a dressage test.

(Anya replies: a decent halfy what-y and a reinback how? Hehehehehehehehehehehehe)
WE LOVE OUR FRIENDS!

Teaching older dogs new tricks...and the consequences thereof...

So, to lighten the mood somewhat, I would like to share a silly little story with you....

First, a little background. Alida is known as someone who likes to make things happen. Sometimes, this involves organizing things behind your back and organizing surprises! I love surprises and I have often said that the male species lack a certain imagination when it comes to things like that. However, that in itself is a whole other topic that may need its own blog!

So, to explain - for my birthday this year, Alida had a birthday cake made with a picture of Czar smack dab in the middle of the cake. She had devised a clever ruse to get me to forward a good picture of my boy to put on the cake, thereby surprizing me royally with the gorgeous cake! It was quite hard to cut through the picture!

Well, as you know if you read Alida's stories, she is an avid horse rider these days and she goes to a reputable riding school in Muldersdrift where she gets her 'fix' every week. Unfortunately, she fractured her foot about two weeks ago and so is out of commission for a few weeks. So, once again, behind my back, she organized and k-nived with the instructor over there, so that I may go for 4 riding lessons, in her place!!!

If you could recall from a previous blog, my experience with horse riding schools has never been positive and so it was with more than a little trepidation that I accepted this very generous and loving offer. How could I NOT accept her offer, as it would allow me to continue my 'hobby', gain valuable experience,  and force me to do it every weekend at a stipulated time, which is always a good way to get one to practice.

However, if you know my personality and my history, you would know that I am more of a cowboy on the back of a horse, than someone who 'canters on the right leg'! To be honest, 'cantering on the right leg' has no meaning to me, whatsoever....Where I come from, we got on the horse, sometimes bare back, sometimes even without bridle and reins and off we went, into the veld, happily riding around, kidding around and having a grand ole time!

Alida, however knew that I had had a bad experience and had lost some of my confidence and had not ridden in a long time. However, thanks to her, I had already been on quite a number of animals this year! But, one can never practice too much, I suppose?

Thus, on Saturday, off I went to Alida's riding school, as a student! I had been there before, so I have met all the horses and most of the instructors and students, which I must admit, helped a lot. As I arrived, I took one look at Alida's face and we both burst out laughing! They were all friendly and welcoming. We were full of high spirits and jokes, the day promised to be quite eventful! True to her nature, Alida had yet another surprize up her sleeve. She had arranged things with Lee-Anne, her co-rider/friend, so between the two of them, they got together a pair of jods, riding boots and chaps for me to wear, so that I would even look the part of a proper Riding School Student!

I am used to riding wearing any old thing, ie jeans and takkies, or shorts and barefoot and Alida was having none of that!

Unfortunately, the boots, chaps and jods were a little too big, but I felt rather grand as I remembered back then, as a kid, I had looked with longing eyes at the kids with their super outfits on the backs of those huge beasts, so I felt like a million bucks! But I still had a goofy grin on my face when I mounted Chester!

The lesson went fine and dandy as Chene, the instructor, was briefed about me beforehand (I'll bet!). She let me get on at my own pace and settle in, getting used to the feel of Chester and explaining his ways to me. She was very reassuring and kind. And then it happened...

Chene asked all the students (we were only three, thank goodness!) to 'change reins'. I, of course had no idea what that meant, and so I merely turned Chester around, to go the other way. I was going in the opposite direction, as the others were still coming towards me! It was the funniest blunder on my part! Alida nearly packed up laughing and I had a lot of trouble not startling the poor Chester with my guffaws! The next time this happened though, I was ready and so I merely let Chester follow Lee-Anne on Fernando!

Something I had noticed while riding around the arena was that the riders all concentrated really hard while they were riding. They were making very sure that they listened and adjusted their posture and legs regularly. They looked straight ahead and you could feel their concentration. I, on the other hand, sat and enjoyed the scenery as two of the younger horses in the far paddock were chasing each other playfully, there were chickens strutting around and some of them were quite amusing. I enjoyed the scenery as if I was out on a regular outride. The ghosts of the past had been thoroughly exorcised (however they may still require some exercise)! 

I enjoyed the experience and I am forever grateful to all parties involved in getting this 'plaasjapie' al geared up in the right way and riding around with proper horse riders in a proper arena at a proper horse riding facility!

I'll do my best next time to 'change reins' properly when asked to, but I guess I may just always remain the class clown!

Waving at Aida taking pictures with her mobile!

The rising trot I can do, but I got tired too (Lazy bum)

Letting Chester follow Fernando, in case we have to 'change something' again...;-)

A little guy named Chinuke

Reading all these stories puts a smile on my face, mingled with a touch of melancholy. Reading Alida's descriptions puts pictures in my head and I can see Twister hopping in the vegetable garden with Daan on his back, trying to get him to calm down, or Twister bouncing around the lunging arena. He was a beautiful horse and it is so sad that he had to succumb to African Horse Sickness.

Yes, Alida did not name him, I forgot about the fact that he arrived on the plot already named, but she may as well have named him, and Twister became Twissie...She trained him with voice commands but after he passed away she, understandably, lost her drive and a bit of her dream. (Thank GOODNESS that she started riding again, and she now has 5 new horses on the Honeydew plot (that belongs to Sonia) and Alida has developed into an EXCELLENT rider but the best is that she is the dearest of friends and we can laugh and cry and write together!!)

Not too long after this, I moved to a plot in Chartwell and I moved the horses with me. By this time, I had acquired a little Shetland pony named Chinuke. He was supposedly halter trained but he was the most head shy little thing I have ever seen. He was another little stallion, would you believe?! I often wondered what had happened to the little guy as he seemed almost broken, so aloof and so very, very shy and retiring.

So there I was, with my three stallions, and we moved to Chartwell. It was heaven on earth, to be able to wake up in the morning, look out my front door and see my horses grazing about 50 metres away. After work at night, we would sit on the patio and look over the garden at the horses peacefully grazing and next door we could see a few species of buck and a few ostriches gambolling around, it was utter bliss and we felt very blessed.

One day, the dogs on the plot decided to chase down Chinuke, for whatever reason. Maybe they had excess energy or maybe they were downright delinquent, I don't know, but the results were undesirable. The poor little pony ended up right at the far end of the paddock with a gaping hole in its neck. Now, as you know from my previous stories, when you have animals, you are bound to come across injuries and so you deal with them, but it remains rather challenging when you are trying to comfort and treat a scared and untame little stallion. Believe me, he may have been little, but he had an iron-fisted will!

However, that particular day, as I approached him, he somehow just knew and understood that I wanted to help him. I walked over, looked at the 'eina', held him and started applying the wound spray. Suffice it to say, I always had wound spray in the house. When you have so many animals, you have to be prepared!

Sultan and Chinuke grazing together

The little Chocolate Shetland

Chinuke thereafter continued to try and bite me when I handled him or wanted to move him. He loved kicking back those stumpy little legs to sort out Sultan and the two of them bonded quite easily. To this day I am not altogether sure who ruled the roost. Sultan, the biggest and oldest stallion, or this little chipmunk of a shetland with the heart of the biggest, strongest stallion! The big bay stallion and the little chocolate brown stallion loved grazing together and Czar knew to keep well away from them!

Flying lessons - by Alida

Flying lessons

By the way, Twister had his name when we met.  Little did I know then that his name would prove to suit him very well!  That boy could crawl underneath the paddock railing and through a hole in a wire fence to get out when he wanted to.  He also on occasion managed to flip himself over the paddock fence and landed on his back (just got up, shook it off and carried on running!).  He managed to entangle himself in the only piece of barbed wire that we didn’t spot on the ground, and we had to untangle it from his tail hair by hair!  Twister by name, Twister by nature! 

So through the years I’ve sustained a number of injuries to wrists, elbows and ankles, bruised my coccyx at least twice and have a few scars to remind me of my exploits.  My latest injury (a stress fracture on my right foot) happened two weeks ago just because I landed wrong on dismount.  Very unglamorous! 

I’ve had one fall from Fernando just a few months after I started leasing him.  I managed to scrape together the amount of courage one would normally reserve to climb Everest, and had done a few jumps at 50cm height with him.  Fernando would be quite capable of walking over the cross bar, but I would approach at a trot.  Being the show-off that he is, he would bounce into a canter one stride before the jump, and launch himself in spectacular style at least 1 meter high over the jump!  I managed to stay on and I was just thinking “Hey, I can actually maybe perhaps do this”. I approached the next cross bar and as we launched over, I heard my instructor say “Nice jump”.  Well, the next sound was a resounding THUMP.  That was me landing shoulder first on the ground, face in the dirt.  How did that happen?  I was a bit dazed and very sore.  Fernando was standing a few steps away looking mildly worried.  My kids witnessed this along with my husband, so I had to maintain my composure even though I wanted to cry like a baby!  Upon closer inspection of my saddle, it became clear that the safety catch had released the stirrup leather as I went over the jump so when I put my weight into the stirrup to sit back and balance on landing, it unhinged and fell to the ground, with me following suit. 

My husband is, fortunately, quite strong and managed to haul my bruised body back into the saddle.  He almost threw me right over the saddle!  I lost my nerve to jump completely right there.  I think the fact that even when neither the horse nor I did anything wrong, and I still managed to fall, made me think that maybe jumping is not for me.  I have since tried going over a 30cm jump in a trot, but I’ve lost my nerve.  So I guess I won’t be in contention to win the showjumping event at the next Avis Derby, but hey, that’s fine with me!

Coming up.

Dezzi goes to boot camp

Czar - Part 2

So there he was, running free in his new paddock, so scared of people! All this 8 month old ever knew of people thus far in his life, was that they were cruel and harsh and to be avoided at all costs!

We fed them 10% Alzu concentrates as suggested by my friend's cousin and they had erogrostis bales throughout the day and fresh water and soon settled down, Czar and Topaz the best of friends as they shared their terrible traumatic ordeal at the hands of people. Topaz turned out to be a very unfortunate little filly, as she had boxy feet and a very bad back so we ended up selling her to people who had a big plot and wanted her as a companion horse to their other horses. I am hopeful that her life ended up pretty happy too!

In the meantime, Alida purchased her beautiful black stallion, and promptly named him Twister and I bought Sultan, a 24 month old Boerperd Colt. I just couldn't refuse him and we got him as an older boy to be ridden sooner as Czar was still a baby. So we had the 'big boys' in one paddock and the 'babies' in another one. I also was given a very old lady who wanted to retire and spend her last years in a quiet and happy environment.

So, before we knew what was happening, our horsey dream had become a reality and we had 4, soon to be 5 horses on the property!

It took a very, very long time for me to gain Czar's trust, and I would and could never blame him. To this day, and he is 13 years old, I still remember his utter terror and trauma experienced at the hands of people and that is why I would never break the trust he placed in me as his caretaker.

Czar is highly inquisitive by nature, and very soon he would start looking in my direction as I approached. I had gotten into the habit of sitting in the middle of the paddock, reading a book or playing with a piece of string, completely ignoring this little charcoal coloured boy strolling over to see what I was doing.

I did this for quite some time and he was so intrigued and wanted to see what I was doing that he would come right up to me. Slowly but surely I would lift my hand and touch him, he would shy away and I would go back and continue what I was doing. I was down on the ground so I posed to real threat to him and he soon figured this out. It was a complete breakthrough the day that he let me touch his muzzle and stroke him. A light went on in his eyes, because this was feeling rather good!

Then we progressed smoothly, he got carrots and he tolerated me moving about inside his paddock. He got possessive about his food and would kick out at the little filly when she came too close. He really came into his own and I could not be more proud.

We had to catch them to give them their first African Horse Sickness shots and boy, was this another story! We had two very wild young horses running all over the place, jumping and kicking madly and I was worried that all the hard work would be lost. So in the end, I strolled over to Czar who was standing quite close to the crush at the time, and I merely asked him to hold still, as I needed to catch him. I reached out, took a hold of his halter and that was the end of the story. This was the beginning of our extraordinary bond.

As time went on, and as Alida explained in her first story, Twister became rideable and we rode him and Sultan on outrides in the area which was a lot of fun! We have lots of stories to tell such as me ending up hanging from a branch after a wayward pony decided not to stop for a tree...Twister became ill and we lost him, people came and people went, and still Czar seemed unperturbed and was growing up to be a beautiful and strong young stallion.

At some point I decided to see if we could back him, as he was so very very tame. He would come at my whistle, as he does to this day. He seemed genuinely interested and happy to see me as I did not live on the plot with him and had to visit as much as I could. We put the small saddle on his back and I got on and we had no drama whatsoever.

We had our share of injuries, because stallions and mares together make for some interesting tales to tell! Sultan, my Boerperd stallion, decided to go 'next door' one day and ended up nearly impaling himself on the paddock railing. We had to get the vet out to stitch up a gash above the one eye and unscrew the wooden pole as it was pressing right into his stomach, which in turn, could cause him serious damage. Czar also ended up with a huge gash over the one eye another time, but a lot of tlc and woundspray took care of that particular injury. So we learnt as we went along and they came to understand that we were there to take care of them. I firmly believe this and I believe this is why my horses would run to me whenever something spooked them, such as end of year crackers or thunder and lightning.

When the old lady (the retired pony I mentioned before) lay down in the sand one day, I knew the end was near and we had to call the vet again. He arrived with his gun and I had to take Czar and Topaz up and away for them not to see (and I guess for me not to see either!). When the shot rang out, Czar bolted to one side and Topaz the other and it was very clear that the sound of a gun shot was embedded in their minds! I was holding onto the leadreins and did not let go in time, which resulted in burnt and sore palms! Doc Dobie went one way, crying over the dead pony and I went the other way and only once we had our emotions under control, did we face one another again. It remains very hard to have to let an animal go, but our vet always felt exactly the same and that was a comforting thought.

The years went by and Czar was a happy, healthy and magnificent boy! He received compliments in abundance whenever strangers saw him and we finally figured out that he must be a Nooitgedacht Pony, with a lot of Arab in there too, because he would proudly prance around the paddock with an arched neck and an elevated tail and he was utterly gorgeous. To this day he is highly energetic, lifts his legs high and prances around like the prettiest boy in the country.

It's true that parents always think their children are the smartest and prettiest and in this case, it is most definitely very, very true...! Czar had come a long way, from a wild and highly traumatized youngster, standing in a queue at the abbatoir to be shot and killed, to a happy, bouncy and oh so tame 13 year old who lifts me up with his head and loves a cuddle!

Fernando's Story - by Alida

Fernando’s story

My instructor suggested to me that I give up my lease on Big Chester as he was at an age where he was more suited to a life of leisure and a few lessons here and there, than the high demands of the dressage arena that I was putting on him.  I was progressing nicely and enjoyed the technicality of dressage a lot more than the showjumping.

After much deliberation and talks regarding guarantees (and threats!) about his future care, I accepted that this was indeed a good idea.  But who would I replace him with?  Ricus mentioned Fernando, and my heart stopped.  Fernando??!!  That beautiful 17.2hh giant I have admired only from afar, whom I had watched on numerous occasions in the show arena, wishing I had some of his riders’ bravery, ability or talent….Fernando??

Yes, said Ricus.  Fernando.  Lets put this in perspective:-

Big Chester.  Farm horse.  About 15.3h, 18yrs old.  Furry and fluffy, a bit scruffy and a good example of a general hack, who through hard work and plenty of time and effort, could barely manage a basic preliminary dressage test and for whom my biggest goal was to remain in the arena for the duration of the dressage test. Just don’t ask him to canter on the right hand lead! 

Now, compared with Fernando – 17.2hh, lean athletic, immaculately bred and trained Thoroughbred.  Could clear a jump a meter high on a good day and also did flying changes just because he could!

I was but a very average rider at best, but what I lacked in talent and ability, I made up for with carrots.  I brought a LOT of carrots.

Ricus convinced me to give it a chance, and with shaking boots and a nervous laugh, I approached Fernando that first day.  I got on the hay bucket I used as a mounting block for Big Chester, and realised: I was going to need a bigger bucket!  This boy was tall!  The fact that I’m mortally afraid of heights did not help matters much.

I managed to get up into the saddle with vertigo tugging at my innards.  Good start, I thought.  Then he started walking.  Oh my word!  All previous instructions from Ricus flew out my head.  I was a greenhorn on my first horse ride ever!  Well, that’s what it felt like.  I didn’t know what to do with my hands, I forgot about heels, shoulders and hips and I kept looking down to see if I really was that high off the ground!  His first trot in the arena had me unbalanced and it felt like he was very fast.  Later on, when I viewed a video clip my friend took of the ride, I said to her that I didn’t realise that her camera had a “slow motion” function.  It didn’t have one – that was just how he moved!  Although from my perspective in the saddle, it felt like he was preparing for take-off.

Have you ever driven a 1980’s Toyota Corolla and then gotten into a 2011 model Mercedes S-class?  Well, that was the difference between Fernando and Big Chester.  Even at the same speed, the difference is just remarkable.  I was too scared to apply leg pressure or adjust my reins – he had power steering!  The slightest flex of my wrists or pressure from my calf would have him responding immediately.  And his brakes!  I would merely think ‘halt’ and just close my hands around the reins, and he would go from a forward, working trot into a dead stop.  On more than one occasion I ended up chin to mane because I did not expect his halt to be so sudden! 

I had to lighten my riding style from keeping a vicelike grip on the outside rein with Big Chester, to having cotton wool in my hands for Fernando.

Slowly but surely we set off on our journey together. 

To come:  I take flying lessons..….

Alida's Pictures

Alida and Chester

Annelise, Alida's daughter on Apollo

Alida and Chester at Dressage

                                                                    Big Chester, ain't he a beauty?! :-)

                                                             Alida and Fernando!

Alida's Story

Well this is my story.  My name is Alida, I’m 38 years old, have been married for 16 years and have 2 children aged 6 and 10.

I've always loved horses – ever since I can remember I would get excited at the sight of a long flowing mane, an arched neck, a graceful gallop.

My very first horse that I could call my own only came along in my twenties.  As a child there was very little opportunity or money for horseriding.  I bought an 18month old stallion named Twister for just R500.  That was before I learned how to ride, please note.  Green horse + green rider = injuries, so NOT a good idea! I got a broken wrist for my efforts, many falls, sprains and lots of trodden toes. I actually didn't ride him that much. Did more of a "dirt slalom" - skiing behind him as I got dragged through the vegetable garden. It was only after I pulled him through a bout of colic that he actually seemed to decide that I was someone worthy of his trust.

I trained him on voice commands and did plenty of groundwork as I knew that I was too poor a rider to back him myself. Oh, we did plenty of groundwork allright - me walking with feed bucket and halter to go and fetch him from the plot next door where he had escaped to visit the pretty fillies!. He was eventually backed by a friend of ours, but I was never confident enough to be comfortable and relaxed while riding on him.  He was after all a stallion!

I didn't know that much back then, and he was just over two when we put a saddle on him (big old western thing that scared the living daylights out of him).  Knowing what I know now, I would have waited until he was three or four years old at least, but by then it would have been too late.

With patience, and time, I eventually got to riding him around our five-acre plot at a walk, which we both felt comfortable with, and later on did a little bit of trotting.  Unfortunately he died from African Horse sickness at a very young age.  I was grief stricken and was convinced I would never ride again.  I sold the other horse, sold my beautiful western saddle (beats head against desk as I think back to that little mistake!) and lost contact with my horsey friend and co-blogger Anya.

My daughter was born in 2001, then my son in 2004, and horses were pretty to look at, but not for me to ride. Then my daughter started with riding lessons at her nursery school at age 3, and loved it. When she went to "big school", we had to go to the riding school on a Saturday so she could continue with her lessons, and my husband, knowing me better than I know myself, saw that I was interested in more than being just a spectator. It was not long after that I agreed to "one lesson only", on an old schoolmaster named Charlie.  I climbed on, and asked the instructor if he thought the horse would mind me hurling on its head. I was terrified! ..

I managed just a walk that first day, on the lead rein.  Very embarrassing to have the groom lead me around just like the 3 year old riders!  Oh, and I managed not to hurl despite my churning stomach. So I signed up for a few more lessons. Trotted by the third week. Took me 6 months to be brave enough to canter a full round around the arena.  But I was happy. With patience (from Ricus my instructor and from old Charlie the schoolmaster horse) they taught me to relax, to feel the rhythm, to enjoy the experience, along with gentle reminders that I did, indeed, need to breathe.

I was presented the opportunity to half bait (or perhaps you might know the term half lease?) a big old Percheron x horse named Big Chester.  He had more than a few trust issues: sometimes resembled a runaway steam train thundering across the arena with his nose on his chest, did not like me fiddling around his ears, seemed to take joy in walking off whenever I tried to mount, would take a chunk of flesh from you given half a chance, and he had a very strong personality, but he was my boy and I loved him dearly.

December 2009, our riding school hosted a little Christmas show. I managed a very respectable 2nd place in the novice equitation on Big Chester. The fact that most of my fellow competitors haven't hit puberty yet did nothing to diminish my absolute joy at me and Big Chester surviving the flesh-eating umbrellas and predatory folding chairs that threatened to engulf us.  I even ventured forth into the scary jumping arena and managed a clear round of “terrifyingly large jumps” (40cm...)

A loner, he barely tolerated other horses around him.  He loved carrots, apples, sweet potato, watermelon, bread - given one treat at a time and in small quantities of course, much to his disappointment, and his huge Percheron head would frisk me for more treats that MUST be hidden somewhere on my person. He turned into a real softie actually, and my daughter could ride him with ease, with only an "apple" bit in his mouth (plastic straight bar and green - apparently has an apple flavour, but I haven't gone as far as sticking it in my mouth for a taste). And when my 6 year- old son walked right up to him to hug his huge chest, Big Chester arched his neck this way and that to get a better look at this little person, and stood very very still, until my son was done with hugging his huge chest.

Grownups he is more wary of, and it took some time to build that relationship of trust that is so important. As I work full time, have a husband and two kids to look after, my time was and still is unfortunately limited.  But we progressed slowly and surely and grew a strong bond.

Big Chester :  December 2009

The Story of Czar - Part 1

This is the Story of Czar, my Nooitgedacht/Arab Pony. It will be a long story, as you will find that I provide a lot of background information, to enable the reader to understand more. Because of the lengthiness, I will be doing his story in installments…

Every little girl, or more accurately then, almost every little girl on the planet, dreams of owning her own pony. She gets huge puppy eyes whenever she sees a pony or a horse and her family usually has to indulge her when the opportunity arises and she can sit on the back of a pony at the local Nursery or on a friend’s farm! Sometimes, when they grow up, a certain fondness for the majestic animals remain, sometimes the ‘obsession’ never lets up. With me, the obsession remained.

My dream got stronger as I grew up. I wanted to own my own horse, but, unfortunately, for the most part, I grew up in the city. I was fortunate that my parents knew lots of people who had farms and so we could visit those over the weekends and holidays and in this way I gained some experience riding different horses and ponies. These horse owners were always so friendly, helpful and allowed me to gain my own experience and learn at my own pace. We wore shorts and rode barefoot, sometimes bareback, always filled with joy and fun. It was always easy-going. As everyone agrees I am sure, horses hold something magical, mystical and noble inside them and I have always felt that just to be near them or to touch them, was fulfilling to me, somehow. However, this was the sum total of my experience as my parents could not afford to send me for horse riding lessons. Later on in life, I was not too sad about this fact, because my experience with Riding schools, was not altogether pleasant.

We used to live quite close to a stable yard and the kids would ride the horses to the local Café on the corner to buy Cokes before returning from their outrides. As a little girl of six or seven years old, watching these magnificent beings on those awesome creatures, I so very much wanted to get closer and stroke the horses’ noses. Alas, I was shunned and shouted away every time. My conclusion: horsey schools are not so nice…

When I was in High School, I had a friend who was really into her horse riding lessons and she invited me to go along one Saturday. Her Instructor made me so nervous and I was only sitting on the side watching my friend! She was yelling at my friend and again this nagging feeling inside me flared up: Horsey schools are really not so nice…

The years rolled by and I was in my twenties when my dream became a reality. A couple of my friends owned (and still owns) a plot in Honeydew, Johannesburg and the topic of horses came up. As luck would have it, owning her own horse, has also always been Alida’s dream and we sat together dreaming away, thinking, that it would not be too far fetched for us to keep horses on their plot, as it was big enough. We knew absolutely nothing, except that we wanted to make our dreams come true. And so, our idea grew wings and took off, because everything sort of naturally fell into place. Alida’s husband, Hein, was magnificent and very agreeable to our crazy notions, because he understood our childhood dreams and he decided to help us make them come true. For this, we shall be forever grateful.

And so, we began our search – to find horses. Alida went about it a little differently, but that is her story.

Now, because I am the way I am, a little quirky, eccentric, stubborn and so on, I have always had this affinity for stallions. Do not ask me why, I can hazard a guess and reckon it may have something to do with the story of Black Beauty. But a black stallion has just always been RIGHT for me.  I think I irritated everyone around me, because all I could talk about was my own horse and finding him and having him and what I planned and how it would be and so on and so on!

Then a friend of mine told me about an abbatoir in Krugersdorp where, apparently, you could buy a young horse quite cheaply as you would only be paying for the ‘meat’! These horses are gathered from all across the country, brought to the abbatoir or slaughterhouse and then readied for slaughter, to be made into dog food, or certain types of polony or taken to the lion parks to feed the lions. It was a horrible thought, and remains a horrible thought to this day, but to make a long story short, my friend agreed to go there with his cousin, who knew horses quite well and pick out one for me, and one for Hein’s sister, Issie. Issie wanted a filly, but I was adamant that I preferred a colt, the darker and closest to black as possible, please. (They knew that I would not be able to go there and leave with only two horses, I would buy the whole lot!)

And so, on a bright Wednesday, in 1998 my friend called me to let me know that they were on their way with the horse box. We had made a (very) quick paddock for their arrival and it was ready and waiting. I was working half day at the time, so I got in my car with two colleagues from the office and we drove through to the plot, so go see my baby!

And, he was still a baby. They found the two, a little dark grey colt (8 months old) and a little Basuto type filly, standing in the queue to be shot! To this day, gunfire freaks Czar out completely, and who can blame him?

Issie named her little filly Topaz and she was a frail, scrawny little thing, terrified of people. How they managed to get them into that horsebox remains a mystery to this day. As soon as they offloaded them, the two little ones literally scampered away to the far side of the paddock, to get as far away from people as they possibly could. 

The challenge ahead was very clear to me, but I was ecstatic! Czar had arrived!

Some of our Animals!

This is Snowbell, she lives in Honeydew with Alida, and is used for Equine Therapy as a Specialist assisting kids who battle with certain difficulties. She is a Welsh Pony and Alida will be contributing more stories about her and her other friends who share the paddocks!

 This is Peanut, who is just starting to get used to people on her back again. She also lives with Alida. Here I am taking her for a spin with the Western Saddle!

 This is Czar, my Stallion! He is 13 years old and has a long story, which will be told in due course.

And this, Ladies and Gentleman, is Fernando, Alida's Big Boy. She will most definitely be writing volumes about this stunning gentleman!

 This is Punkie, he is a rescued Grey Loerie who fell out of the tree when a baby and who has deformed legs. He is quite tame and very lovable and eats the whole day!

 And this pretty guy is Khalief, my Wolf Hybrid, who is turning 14 this year. His stories are also quite amazing, so watch this Blog!

 This is my African Grey Parrot, playing with a toy on the bed, caught in action. He is a little person, is all that I know. He is still a 'baby' of 5 years old this year and provides laughter and joy on a daily basis. I could not and would not want to imagine my life without this little feathered angel.

 This is Minsi, a Chow Cross Something Or Other, and she belongs to Khalief. She is still a youngster and she keeps Mr Wolf on the go!

 And this Big Boy is Sultan, my Boerperd, who I sadly had to leave behind on the farm in Groblersdal, but I will always remember him. Still Stallion, headstrong but gorgeous.