Goose vs. Alyssa & The Trailer (Spoiler: I win)

Last dose doze with his noggin out the window

I mentioned that the last of the loading dose series was just around the corner, and as of today, it’s DONE! Four shots, eight ish weeks, and now the waiting game begins. Is it going to make a difference? Is it not? Did I just waste $2,600 for this experimental treatment to not work? Stay tuned to find out…

Tryon took measurements at his first appointment, and at his last. I’m waiting to hear from them on those measurements so I can now keep track and compare my data to theirs. The plan is to take pictures every other week to track progress and growth/recession. Everyone please keep your fingers crossed for the latter. I’ll take some new pictures this weekend and will have some updates on the lump front soon.

In other news, it has been HOT here the past few weeks, which has meant a lot of bareback meanderings around the fields and in the pond. It’s just too hot to tack up and I honestly can’t be bothered to put a lot of work in right now. I did tack up the other day and rode with a new barn friend, Lauren. We took some videos for each other and these were Goose’s. Considering we haven’t been putting in a ton of correct work, I was super pleased with how he collected. He was bracing quite a bit against my hand but luckily schooled out of most of it fairly quickly. I’ll take it since I had figured he'd be a bit of a brick-head without our regular rides.

Splish splash

Lauren and a borrowed Stella

Goober checking out a rare and majestic Zion fish

Due to his loading difficulty with Abby the other week, I wanted to work on that with him before his trip to Tryon this morning. He was shipped with a buddy so got to go on a warmblood sized trailer. This is a “normal” trailer for Goose, the kind he is used to and was self-loading on for me. I get that he has issues with slant loads because big horses don’t fit well in the slots, but I didn’t anticipate more than a few minutes of coercing before he popped on like his usually good self.

WRONG.

Goose completely reverted to the giant shit head he was when I bought him. Kicking out in frustration, turning his butt at me in warning, and just completely unhinged into Big Scary Goose. No manners, no care about where I was in relation to him, and no desire to behave whatsoever. There’s no fear in his eye, just a big ol’ Fuck You.

To start off, I’ll say that I don’t need anyone’s opinions on why Goose is having trailering issues, and I really don’t need recommendations for natural horsemanship methods to try. I could save myself some anticipated nasty comments by not posting any of this, but my blog is a place I can vent and write whatever I want, and I think this is probably relatable to a lot of people. I respect that everyone has different ways of doing things, and I expect you to respect mine. We all need to remember there are many roads to Rome. I don’t abuse horses, I have a lot of experience loading horses, both good and challenging, ranging from yearlings to ill-behaved teenagers, and because I’m not a professional myself, I would certainly enlist the help of one if I needed to. Goose has been trailering successfully and calmly for the better part of six years with me, and I do NOT condone dangerous or ill behavior from my giant animal at any time, in any circumstance. He’s allowed to be fearful or confused, and he’s allowed to be frustrated about being stuffed into a smaller trailer he doesn’t particularly feel comfortable in, and we work through that. But when he blatantly says “NO” to something he has done more times than I can count in a big trailer that is inviting, one he hasn’t had issues with since I bought him, and gets that belligerent look in his eye, all bets are off and I have to remind him who the herd leader is, and that it sure as shit is not him. If this disclaimer was completely unnecessary, more’s the better.

We moseyed down to the trailer and he stood just fine while I opened it all up. Luckily it was parked (and blocked up very safely) in the shade and was nice and cool despite the outside temperature. I opened the doors and the front chest bar so I could walk him in and we got started. I love that saying (I forget where I’ve heard it) to be as soft as you can be, and as assertive as you need to be, so that was the plan. I marched him right up to the ramp where he paused, I gave him a few seconds to think about it, then clucked and urged him forward. I’m a big fan of pressure, release, so that was the plan. Pressure until he walks forward, release when he moved in a positive direction. Simple yet effective. Usually.

The oaf planted his feet like the giant mule he can be and would. Not. Move. I tried clucking, I tried pulling, I tried circling and re approaching. I grabbed a dressage whip and lightly tapped his shoulder until he moved forward, stopped tapping when he moved, tapped again until he moved forward, rinse and repeat. Nada, nothing. He was just standing there with a belligerent look in his eye, not fearful just a royal “F you lady” and I’d had enough. I dropped the other butt bar on the divider and pushed it to the far side so he had even more room to get on, thinking that it would be more inviting. No difference, didn’t care, no thanks, I’d rather have some snacks now. And then his behavior really got bad.

All of a sudden I didn’t have a Goose anymore, I had a royally pissed off draft horse throwing a temper tantrum who grew six inches and didn’t want to play my trailer game anymore. It started out by him kicking out, which he used to do in frustrating but is something I haven’t seen in years. He’s allowed to be anxious or upset, he is NOT allowed to revert to that behavior, especially when he started swinging his butt towards me. He is a 1400 lb animal who can become dangerous in an instant, could kill me without thinking about it, and I HATE when he remembers he can be a Big Scary Horse. I used to see this side of him more often, much less so in the past few years. Unfortunately he’s not a horse that you can sweet talk out of it with soothing words and pats. So, as they say in the South, we had a come to Jesus. We moved his feet backwards, we moved his feet sideways, we yielded the hindquarters and the shoulder and then backed up again. I growled some very colorful words at him. He tried to run me over, he got the shank. We danced for about 20 minutes. He got sweaty and tired. And then he sighed and put his head down and his eyeball returned to normal Goose, not belligerent asshole. And then he got on the box. And then he got off the box, and then he got back on the box and calmly backed off. Then he decided he was done again and acted like an asshat for another go, and then we had a discussion until he decided he could do this after all, even with the divider in its normal position. Even when I closed the chest bar, left him on, and came around to do the butt bar by myself. And then he even walked on the box all by his good-boy self.

With that, he got pats, cookies, a nice rinse, and dinner. He had much sweet talking as I kept my adrenaline rush under control, and no worse for the wear he snuggled like the big puppy he usually is. He got turned back out with his buddies, and I tried not to be too mad at him even though I was re-writing his $5 on Craigslist ad in my head. I didn’t beat him, but I wasn’t nice to him either, and I hate that I needed to do that. Unfortunately he’s not a horse that softness always works on. He’s stubborn, belligerent, and can get mean in an instant if he decides to throw a tantrum. It happens oh so rarely, but when it does he’s the type that needs to be put back in his place. I hate doing it, I hate that I can’t be gentle and soft and use sweet talk through the whole process like I did when teaching the babies to load. But he’s too big and had gotten away with too much to be like that with him. By the end of our session, I could be soft and quiet and sweet, and he responded. In the beginning, it would have taken me 12 hours to get him to put a foot on the trailer with that method. From start to finish, it took me about an hour for him to be back to his normal self and calmly load and unload.

There’s an inappropriate saying I’ve repurposed to reference the way Goose needs to be trained (for trailer loading/ground work and under saddle) and it’s “Hit it and Quit it”, meaning sometimes I have to be the bully, but as soon as he’s yielded I put that away and can be soft again. Pressure, Release is probably a better way of saying it but I like my way. Before anyone gets up in arms, the “Hit it” part doesn’t necessarily mean LITERALLY hitting him. (Just anticipating some internet trainers coming out of the woodwork here, nbd.)

On the Fourth, we went for a delightful bareback ride with our friend Amanda. It was hot but breezy; utterly perfect weather to mosey around and let Zu splash around in the pond. I was feeding that night, so I wanted to have a quick, positive ride, then pop him on the trailer once more for good measure before feeding the horses.

Amanda and lovely Toby

This time, Amanda came down to the trailer too to watch and help if needed. Her horse was the one accompanying Goose to Tryon, so she figured she could make sure she could get him on and see my process so her and Abby wouldn’t need me to get him loaded Friday morning. After two minutes of very brief discussion, he loaded right up. He did try to fling himself backwards a few times, but all-in it was a two minute process, no whips or major reprimand needed, and he then loaded up quickly and easily for Amanda as well. Voila, a fixed Goose. Many treats and pats, dinner, then back out to pasture with his buddy Apollo to graze the night away.

Nom nom nom

These days, I mostly love my horse. Some moments however, I REALLY freaking hate him. I’m sure I’m not the only one who struggles with these mixed emotions when it comes to their horses or even dogs (or probably kids, but I can’t relate). I have high expectations for my animals’ behavior. I don’t tolerate deliberate disobedience, and I don’t tolerate blatant disregard for my personal space especially where Goose is concerned. I pride myself on having one of the best behaved dogs I know, and a horse with exceptional ground manners especially considering his size. If that means I sometimes have to be the mean drill sergeant with either animal, then that’s the price I’ll pay. That makes the sweet moments that much sweeter, and the drill sergeant moments are usually few and far between. My animals don’t always need to be perfect and they certainly don’t need to be robots. However, they do need to be safe and so do I, and that’s what good training is all about.

For some good news, Goose got right on the trailer this morning for Amanda! She only had one teeny tiny discussion with him and he stepped right up like the Good Boy he usually is. Pats and treats Goose, it’s so much easier when you remember how to use your brain cells for good instead of evil. Abby has sent me a whole bunch of pictures of him from today's adventure (he's still at Tryon as of the time I'm posting this) so here's a sleepy Goose post-injection.

"Iz hard work to be shooted wif drugz"

Stepping off my soapbox now, tomorrow is July 7th, and our SIXTH Goosiversary. Expect my next post to be disgustingly sappy instead of rage-fueled.