Jazz's Training Book

2006-11-27T13:37:00.000-08:00

Wow, it's been a short year!

I realize Jazz looks exhausted from growing and learning and having a great time with his favorite humans (not to mention chasing dogs and trying to kill them,) but it really has been the world's shortest year as far as I am concerned.

One year ago today, Millwood was a muddy mess, Jazzman was trying his new legs on like stilts, and I was celebrating my first couple of weeks with my new employer. Now, Millwood is getting to be a muddy mess again what with the new winter and all, but there have been improvements in drainage and footing that will make life easier for humans and horses alike. Jazz is at his trainer and his trainer is performing miracles with him. He now canters in both directions on the correct lead via hand signals, he leads without halter or leadrope, and he is learning to tie and to have his feet worked on. And this trainer has only had him for two weeks! Actually, a little less than two weeks. Amazing! As for my job, I just celebrated my first anniversary there on November 7 -- with many more to come, I hope.

One year ago, Jazz weighed maybe 70 pounds soaking wet and was a tiny baby. Now he stands close to 14 hands tall and weighs in, I'll take a guess here, at 650 pounds. He is also getting lots of exercise and is turning into a muscley little guy. Good. I was worried about that crest of fat he had on his neck and the fat on his chest and sides. Now they've started to turn to muscle.

He's sure got a winter coat on him, though. We can look forward to a cold and wet winter because all the horses are getting in their extra-length fur, but Jazz has both a beard and a ventral mane of which a wild mustang would be proud.

He's also turned silvery white. Go figure. He was born a palomino like Trigger and is now silver like, well, Silver! Heigh Ho Silver -- you know. I wonder if he just gets bored with his coat and decides a change is called for? Know what? It wouldn't surprise me at all. He'll probably shed out completely black or pinto or appaloosa or something. Nothing about this guy shocks me! He does have the appaloosa's sclera -- white around the eyes, giving him a rather human look. My understanding is that only appaloosas get that.

A brilliant colt and a brilliant trainer certainly make a GREAT horse, whatever his color, his eye shape or color, and whatever his breed. He is wonderful.

2006-10-25T13:17:00.000-07:00

My boy is going off to school! Waaaahhhhh!

Not seriously (well, ALMOST not seriously...) Jazzman Dances, Too will meet his new trainer on November 14. He will be going to Hayward for six months to a wonderful stable and a truly great trainer -- a kind and gentle person with a lot of horse training experience. We'll be able to visit him, of course, and participate in his training -- but I do wish we'd had the time and energy to do this ourselves. Quite frankly, we just don't know enough to do the little guy justice.

What scares us most is, what if we find we can't keep him someday? What if we lose our jobs and can no longer afford the boarding fee or the other horses get sick and we have to give Jazz up to pay the vet some huge amount? If he's well-trained and old enough to ride, we'll have no trouble finding a good home for him. If, on the other hand, he doesn't get that training, it would be a lot harder to find a home, and terribly unfair to him and to any prospective owner. It is best to get the training done -- but when you only have an hour or two a week besides Saturdays and some Sundays, it's awfully hard. Add to that the fact we are inexperienced and it's just that much harder. We keep rushing him, and that's not right either.

So, he'll be going to his trainer for six months, come home to us at Millwood, and then, after his third birthday (November 2008,) he'll go back again for saddle training for another six months or however long it takes. He will be a wonderful trail horse and anything else he likes to do. He's gaited, of course, and does both a very nice foxtrot (from his mom) and a passable running walk (his daddy's legacy,) but he also likes to jump, and he's well conformed to be a dressage horse, too. Mostly, he will be my trail horse, but that doesn't mean he can't do other things. As smart as he is, trick training will also be a plus.

Mike and I both feel like we're sending our child off to school -- and why not? We are.

2006-10-12T10:47:00.000-07:00

Willie Shoes - 1990 - 2006

Back when we lived in grody old Orange County, it was necessary, now and then, to emerge from our nice, safe digs and go shopping. It wasn't like The City. Orange County, especially around the Tustin/Santa Ana area, is UGLY. You didn't want to have to look at it -- but sometimes it's unavoidable.

It was on one of these sojournes that we met Willie Shoes. The point of that shopping expedition was not to buy a cat. Mike needed new shoes and we were heading toward the shoe store -- right past a pet shop. Here's another way Orange County is different from The City. They have pet shops where just anyone can walk in and buy a pet. Here, you have to apply to adopt a pet and pass all kinds of criteria. There, if you have the money, you can buy a pet. Ours is the better system.

Still, I have never passed by a pet shop without looking in the window. The sight of puppies and kittens playing always made me happy. In this case, kittens were leaping all over the display case -- except for one.

"Mike?" I said. "I think this one is hurt." I pointed at a lynx point kitten with four white paws. The little guy's hind leg looked twisted. Naturally we summoned the store manager to have a look at this wounded kitten. I held the tiny baby up for inspection. Naturally, touching that soft, purring furball was all she wrote. Broken leg (and large vet bills) or not, he was going to be ours -- providing Mike agreed with the idea.

He already had. The "broken leg" turned out to be a bit of poop on the little guy's hind end and an awkward angle. The kitten became "Willie Shoes," partly because he had four white feet, and partly because Mike's shoes had to wait for the next paycheck.

Willie fit right into our household.

Years later, with all the changes and alterations in our lives, Willie continued to fit right in with a purr and an insistence upon taking his own space up on the bed at night.

He went through a terrible illness -- a sort of brain fungus or infection of some kind -- back about five years ago. We took him to Pets Unlimited, but they couldn't even diagnose what was wrong with him, so they referred him to a feline neurologist at the Berkeley Cat and Dog Hospital. They, too, had no clue what this disease might be, but they tried everything, including some very experimental treatments, and what they did worked. It saved his life, though he was never strong again.

Today, October 12, 2006, Mike took Willie in to Pets Unlimited. We knew it would be the last time. Willie seemed terribly sick -- weight loss, abdominal distension, lethargy, all screamed something terrible was happening to his aged body. I thought it might be cancer, but it turned out to be congestive heart failure. The vet euthanized him around 9:30 this morning.

We have Gypsy and Reno, our other two cats, and our horses, Rusty, Tilly and Jazzman Dances, Too, and we have each other, but whenever we lose one member of our family, it leaves a terrible hole that never ever heals.

2006-09-29T10:32:00.000-07:00

Jazz getting a proper "scritch" from Mike

You know, it occurs to me that I don't like many horse people. There's Mike, of course, who is my husband (so there's a natural prejudice there,) and Millard, Holly (who I wish would stop hiding out in Colorado and move back here,) Brigid Wasson, Alison of the great many horses, and Linda, owner of Pearl and Sara, and I have gained immense liking and respect for our new barn manager, Lolly, of late.
It is no coincidence that most of the horse people I like and love are either boarders at Millwood or have some connection with Millwood. This stable seems to attract the cream of the horse loving crowd. The people who don't stay there and keep their horses there mostly are not "our sort" anyway. That is, they're not gentle with horses, or they keep them like objects d'art, and do very little with them except show off.
But make me face the great wide world of horse ownership and we have a problem. It's no longer so much people who beat their horses or ship them off to slaughter without a second thought -- though that segment of the horse-owning public exists, too. They are mostly pretty obvious brutal sorts with I.Q.s to match their cowboy boot sizes, and it's easy to avoid the train when you know where the track is. They all run together like some sort of pack, so as long as Mike and I avoid auctions, rodeos and similar places of abuse and the smell of death, we'll do pretty well.
It's the supposedly gentle people who aren't gentle that get me. They don't seem aware of the fact that horses are living, intelligent, feeling creatures. In fact, they don't care one way or another about that. What they seem to care about is their "religion."
Call it "Parelli" or "Lyons" or "Ponyboy Whatever" or "Roberts" or "Rashid," these folks might as well be selling flowers at the airport. I wish they would dress up in saffron robes and tinkle their little finger bells. They'd be easy to avoid then.
All these people started out as blithering idiot newbies to horses. They bought the horse and then bought the "training kit" and they've been "experts" ever since -- to hear them tell it. This one-size-fits-all training acts as if each horse wasn't foaled -- he or she was stamped out at the Keebler factory. Never mind that each horse has its own intelligence, personality, levels of tolerence and sensitivities, every single horse is GOING to learn via whatever method is currently in vogue and to hell with what the horse needs. The owner spent the money on the damned kit, so the horse had better appreciate it and LEARN SOMETHING DAMMIT!
Uh huh.
I have noted these people always look for the shortcut to wherever it is they're going. They are the ones who won't ask for directions. "Mommy please! I'd rather do it myself!" They think they are rugged individualists when what they are are spoiled wannabes following whatever the latest guru happens to be. It's the "easier, softer way" which turns out to be neither.
And then, of course, they get on their Yahoo Groups and whine about something not "working right" with their horses or their training program or the "magic carrot stick" doesn't give off enough fairy dust and they have to resort to actually training their horses to DO something -- and why did they spend all that money in the first place? Might as well sell the horse. Actually, the horses are working fine -- it's the loose nut in the saddle that doesn't work.
Then there are the idiots who persist in never ever giving way to instinctive gentleness or random acts of kindness and beauty where their horses are concerned. To them, a horse is a grim tool; one which must be forced every step of the way to perform as manufactured. You know these people by their lack of smile, the fact that the only time they ever touch their horses is to hit them with something, and by the fact that their horses can't be caught in even the smallest paddock.
I am acquainted with one of these Grim Reaper sorts of trainers, and she's really sad because she's only 16 or so years old, owns a beautiful two year old filly, and things ought to be going swimmingly between them. I saw the girl purposely clamp both her hands down on the filly's muzzle, effectively shutting off the horse's breathing. It's an old and very ignorant cowboy trick that is supposed to make the horse stand still for haltering.
All that trick actually does is scare the holy crap out of the horse (let a friend or relative clamp off your nose and mouth without telling you when, or if, they ever plan to let it go -- see how scared YOU get...) and make her that much MORE unwilling to get caught, haltered, led or much of anything else.
If you want to make a neurotic cripple out of a horse, just do things like that to it. I think I even prefer the silly "training kits" of the fake trainers to that kind of unnecessary brutality!

2006-09-22T07:46:00.000-07:00

I should have named him "Einstein"

Last night's training session was very kickback and relaxed. I got to the stable, but Mike wasn't there. He wasn't feeling well, so he went straight home from work. I didn't feel all that terrific myself so I decided to give Jazz a night off of longe work and just groom him, pet him and see if I could clean his feet.

Some people would say, "Clean his feet? Big deal." Well, from a health standpoint, it is a big deal. Horses whose feet aren't cleaned regularly get thrush, stone bruises, cracked hooves. Also, a horse that won't stand to have his feet cleaned also won't stand for the farrier, and that is also a big deal. Another issue is checking and cleaning out the feet has another benefit -- you can head hoof disease off before it becomes serious.

But, most people who say "big deal" aren't referring to the health aspects of this. They just expect the horse will automatically know how to lift his hooves for cleaning and trimming. The horse, you see, is supposed to read our minds and do what we want without being told first. I'd hate to see what those people's communication is like with other people, let alone with another species.

So, Mike and I have been off and on working with Jazz to teach him to lift his hooves for cleaning. The cue word is "hoof," and up to last night, Jazz didn't seem to "get it." He didn't want his legs messed with and would pull away and stomp his hoof down when we tried to lift it.

That was worrisome. We knew he needed work in that area, so I decided to take a page from Alexandria Kurland's book, "Clicker Training Your Horse" and see if I could make it as pleasant and relaxed as possible.

The lesson got chunked down thusly:

"May I touch your left shoulder? Yes?" Click, treat.

"May I touch your left knee? Yes?" Click, treat.

"May I touch your fetlock? Yes?" Click, treat.

"May I touch your hoof? Yes?" Click, treat.

"May I lift your hoof? Yes? Hoof." Click, treat.

At first, he seemed a little unbalanced, so I waited until he shifted his weight and then tried again, going through the entire ritual. He lifted his hoof, stood there and let me clean it out with the hoof pick.

I moved to the other side, expecting to have to do the ritual all over again. Horses aren't supposed to be able to connect one thing with another. Just because you say "hoof" and lift one hoof, it does not mean the horse will make the connection to his other three hooves and automatically do what you ask. It is supposed to take more training than that.

Not with Jazz. This is why I should have named him "Einstein." He did something last night I have never seen any horse do. He made the mental connection between one hoof and another. I started the ritual, "May I touch your right shoulder? Yes? Click, treat," and he didn't even wait for me to finish before he lifted his hoof and stood there waiting for me to "get it." I did cue him with "hoof," but it didn't seem to be necessary.

I moved to the back hooves and he did the same thing. As soon as I touched his leg, that hoof was up in the air and he was waiting for me. I probably didn't even need the verbal cue.

So, Jazz is now hoof trained, and while the lesson will be repeated several times to make sure he gets it, I think my colt is smarter than I am.

I also groomed him, and he stood for that beautifully -- but then, he's always loved his "beauty treatments."

After that, I put him back with the other horses and groomed Rusty and Tilly, cleaned their feet, and then I went home all excited and happy about my brilliant colt and our life together.

2006-09-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

September 20, 2006

On November 23, 2005, Jazzman Dances, Too (Jazz) was born to Missouri Foxtrotter, Lovee Lady Amblan (Jubilee) and an unknown, to us, cremello Tennessee Walker.

Jazz was born healthy and sound, despite being a few weeks premature and except for some temporary crooked leg problems. His legs straightened out right away with some exercise, and he never did show any of the usual signs of prematurity. He nursed right away and frequently, he has no problems with his eyes and he was born with a full coat of fur. The vet said to expect him sometime in December, but he fooled us all.

He tested well with the IgG kit and was curious, active and wonderfully friendly from the earliest period. I saw him first when he was already about 12 hours old and he had quickly learned people mean petting and scratches, so he was all over me and everyone else for attention. He seemed smart from the beginning and unusually tractable.

Jazz caught the attention not only of dozens of people but of the other horses, dogs, cats and even a wild doe that came down from the hills to check him out. He just has one of THOSE personalities and presence unlike any horse I've ever seen.

Mike and I determined that:

a.) Jazz would be trained with extreme gentleness -- a minimum of hitting would be allowed ONLY for those most dangerous behaviors -- crowding, rushing, biting, kicking and striking. Jazz, like most foals, learned early on that he has teeth for a reason and hooves for a reason and of course he wanted to try them both out. We didn't permit that, and while we didn't hit him then because he was just a baby, he did get several stern talking-to's. Strangely enough, he does seem to understand. If he doesn't understand the words, he certainly understands the intent behind them. Anyway, he didn't get hit and he seemed to stop doing a lot of the bad behaviors without punishment except for the "stern voice."

b.) We needed a trainer. We felt we just didn't have the time to properly train Jazz, so we hired our friend and riding instructor (and the best horse trainer I have ever met,) Brigid Wasson to give him a good start.

Actually, Brigid started working with Jazz from day one without pay. She loves him and wanted to give him a good beginning, so she taught him to stand still and be petted, touched all over and generally loved on. It's called "imprinting," and the way she does it is to leave the baby at liberty and let him get away if he feels too stressed out or worried about the contact. No holding on allowed.

Needless to say, he was coming up to people and requesting pets and scratches from just a few days old. He was leading with a quick release rope when he was three days old, wearing a halter at two weeks and leading well at a month.

Brigid continued working with him until mid-July when she left Millwood.

He no longer:

1. Crowds. Say "My space" or "Back" to him and he gets right out of our space.

2. Mugs. Say "Pretty face" to him and he will back away a little, put his ears forward and politely request his treat.

3. Rushes. Jazz is a very enthusiastic little colt, loves people and didn't understand he could scare or hurt us if he went rushing up on people. All one has to say is "Whoa," holding up a "traffic cop hand" and then "Stand" to make him stop and wait.

4. Pushing at gates and on the trail. He still does this now and then, but not as often. We're working on it with "My space" and "Back."

5. Biting. He will still nibble on clothes, but he no longer bites and I only had to hit him once for biting me very hard. We decided it was better to use the "Ignore the horse and walk away" method to make him aware we are not chew toys. He loves attention, so that made the proper impression on him. He has stopped biting altogether.

6. He's never used striking as a threat display, though he has reared up once (hooves carefully aimed away from the human,) and he does paw the ground when he's frustrated or bored. We're working on both behaviors, again without needing to hit him -- but we will, reluctantly, if the behavior gets worse.

7. He has only once kicked at a person and that was when he was a week old. He seems to understand he can hurt someone badly that way, so he simply doesn't kick. If he's in the arena and getting bucky, he keeps his distance from people. He only once came close to kicking Mike.

Mike was working him at liberty, he turned away to put down the longe whip and end the lesson at the same moment Jazz ran off bucking. If he'd thrown a kick, Jazz would have caught Mike in the head and probably killed him. He pulled off the kick and didn't throw it. He clearly KNOWS not to kick people. Mike ran him for a half hour to impress upon him the importance of NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN, and that was appropriate. Jazz seemed to know it was appropriate punishment and didn't give Mike a moment's trouble. He just took his "spanking" like a man. Mike didn't have to hit him at all for that, but he did run Jazz hard and long.

Actually, Mike has had to hit Jazz only six times -- once with the longe whip and five times with the lead rope, and I have only hit Jazz once with my hand for biting over the past nearly ten months. It makes us extremely uncomfortable to have to hit him, even though we know the unfortunate necessity of it. We WILL do it, but we hate it.

8. Jazz is still barn sour and gets upset when he's away from his mom and his herd, but that problem is changing. Jubilee has started chasing Jazz away from the milk bar. The poor little guy is covered with bites -- none of them serious but they must be uncomfortable. Jubilee, for once, is getting to wean her own baby. Now THAT must be a happy change for her. Jazz is pretty miserable about it, though.

Jazz was gelded on July 1, 2006 at a little over seven months old. We kept him away from other horses for around three weeks to prevent further infection and accidental kicks as he healed. We also spent a great deal of time with him at that time, free longeing him around the arena so that his infection would drain well and he wouldn't get sick. The veterinarian left the wound site open so that it would drain freely and we kept it open by running him so that he'd heal more slowly and not acquire infection pockets that could kill him.

Jazz's relationship with "his" herd began to change then -- being separated from his mom and the other horses, and then when Brigid left, she took away his best friends -- herself and her horses. Then Jazz got knocked down a peg or two by being a gelding and Frodo ruling the roost as a stallion.

We walked into what could have been a badly emotional and unfortunate situation for Jazz as his "new" trainers once Brigid had left. We decided to take up his training, frankly, because we don't trust anyone but Brigid and us to train him -- so in mid-July, we took up that responsibility and it is working out well, if a little rushed and confused sometimes.

Mike has been doing most of the work since I've been sick off and on with colds. He has free longed Jazz since he was gelded and Jazz has learned a great deal of obedience and control from these exercises. Mike has emphasized Jazz's training cues and he has learned to obey them. Mike has also taken Jazz for long walks on the trails to get him used to being away from his herd. This has also, mostly, been a positive experience for Jazz, though he does tend toward being herdbound. We're working on that.

I'll become more actively involved in Jazz's training now that I'm feeling physically better. I started him on the longe line last night and he knew right away what I wanted him to do -- and the clicks and treats certainly helped, too. Despite the presence of other horses and people near the arena, Jazz behaved extremely well and did a good try as far as keeping his mind on his work is concerned. We rewarded him for that try and he seemed happy about it.

The training cues we use are very simple and straight forward:

"My space": Tells Jazz to back off and stop crowding, especially at gates, narrow areas, and on the trail in general.
"Pretty face": Tells Jazz to stop mugging and wait patiently for his treat.
"Whoa": Tells Jazz to stop moving.
"Stand": Tells Jazz to stand in place and wait.
"Walk": Calm walk on or off the longe line.
"Trot": Actually means "foxtrot," Jazz's preferred gait.
"Back": With a little pressure means back up until told to "whoa."
"Lead": Go quietly on the lead and don't get too far behind, cross over, crowd or go ahead.
"Turn": turn left or right or, on the longe line or free longeing, clockwise or counter clockwise.

He hasn't had much work lifting his hooves up on command yet, nor does he canter on command, but those skills are coming. Those command cues will be "Hoof" and "Canter."

He loves to be groomed and stands for that without a lead very well, so we will use that to encourage him to stand at other times, too.

He doesn't do any of these commands perfectly yet, but he is certainly willing and very smart, so as he gets older and develops a calmer mind, he'll learn to do all this and more perfectly.

I also plan to put him on driving lines in the near future, but I do want him to walk, trot, canter, whoa, stand, turn, and do patterns around cones before introducing him to straight line driving. He will do an awful lot of walking before anything else, too.

That brings me up to the present. Much more to come!