On going process part 2

Shannon agreed, BUT...

for her own safety, she wanted to load up Journey, and take her back to her place. She said she needed to work her in her round pen to see just what she was up against.

This was a MAJOR dilemma for me.  I had sent the horse away once before, and she'd come home MAD as a hornet.  I was afraid to send her away again.  PLUS, I really, really, really needed Shannon to ride Journey around here.... take her out on her own, with Wynter and Dakota screaming for her, exactly the way I would be doing.  On the other hand, this woman, who clearly knows what she's doing, says she has to take the animal for her own safety.  Who am I to make the trainer work under less than ideal situations?

I agreed to let Journey go- but only for a short amount of time, and only under the proviso that Shannon would come back here, and continue the training- here.  I was a nervous wreck.

When Shannon picked up Journey on Weds, Sept 21st, she did a bit of ground work with her before loading her in the trailer. Journey was not impressed, and didn't care to co-operate. Shannon agreed that the horse was angry, and held a grudge BUT she also, made it clear that was unacceptable and would change.  Did I mention that I was a nervous wreck?

On Thurs., after teaching two classes, tutoring, and cleaning the preschool, I stopped by Shannon's home to see Journey.  It was probably not the best day for me to start learning to work with my horse.  I was tired, and quickly became overwhelmed.  Shannon was trying to get me to do ground work in a round pen. She was trying to impress upon me the importance of  being dominant over your horse, but to me, the entire experience was frightening and upsetting.  For one, Journey looked confused, and scared.  Shannon insisted she wasn't- but because of my ambivalence at sending her away in the first place, all I could see were the whites of her eyes, her tearing around the round pen, her heaving sides. For another thing, I was scared!  There I was IN the round pen, with flying hooves, a horse that kept wheeling around, a rump that was too close for comfort while I remembered the animal's propensity to buck. The tiny whip I held in my hand, which I knew I would never use, seemed inadequate to keep me safe.  I came home in tears- doubting Shannon, myself and Journey. I wanted to give up, bring the mare home, and resign myself to owning pasture ornaments rather than ride-able horses. Once again, I was on the verge of giving up my dream.

I gave myself Friday to cry, be depressed and think. Then, I rallied my courage again, and went back to Shannon's on Saturday.  I can't impress on you enough how difficult all this was for me- how terrifying- how all consuming.

By this time, Shannon had worked with Journey for three days.  The mare had caught on to what she was expected to do, which helped me immensely.  I went back into the round pen, and although, I was still timid, and awkward (and scared), I was better than I'd been on Thurs.  Mainly, I could see a difference in Journey, and I began to understand what Shannon was trying to teach me.  Like a defiant child, Journey was not being hurt, she was just being made to "mind".  

My wonderful, supportive friend, Becky, met me at Shannon's to cheer me on. Part of her support was to video tape me working with the mare, and this was to prove immensely helpful. When I saw myself, tentative and unsure, I realized I needed to, at the very least, feign confidence and authority, or I would never have control. These were all important stepping stones, but there was more to come!