Years ago a little Anglo-Arab taught me that it's fun to do groundwork. He invited me to "drive" him without lines and we could walk, trot and canter, bend through poles, pop little cross-rails, halt square and back up, all as though I had physical lines on him. I loved it, but didn't appreciate the complexity and beauty of it because he made it so easy for me.
Years later I have a horse who is not rideable -- who may never be rideable. Eason, at 17, has had maybe 45 rides in her life, most at a trainer's, because of physical challenges plus a reactive personality. My journey with her started because I was an equine bodyworker and knew she would be an amazing teacher for me. I could see the challenges she would present, and I wanted to learn. And she has fulfilled that role in so many ways. She has made it crystal clear that "no foot, no horse" is a foundational saying that can't be ignored. She'll drop her topline overnight if her feet are out of balance, which they easily become because of her hi-lo syndrome. She has confirmed how ingrained habits of posture, grazing with one leg always forward, for example, create major asymmetries that ripple through the entire body. She has shown me that horses who can graze as they should be able to, in big spaces, walking one foot, then another, then another, can start to balance out those asymmetries. But most horses don't have that opportunity these days. They stand, eating from hay racks or nets, or piles on the ground, often with their dominant leg forward and the other far back.
Eason spent two months on a farm with a huge rolling field and a pasture mate. Being able to watch her graze freely let me see how natural movement for a horse helps build their bodies effectively. Unfortunately she couldn't stay there, and her new place constrained her to a stall with a small paddock all winter. When the weather improved, we created a primitive track system with electric tape around the perimeter of the small grazing fields, and she now has access to that track during the day, which has improved her outlook. One slow-feeder hay net is hung at the far end, and another is tethered in an old water tub in her shelter. She walks back and forth between the two and can canter or briefly gallop if she wants to. Soon we'll introduce the other mare on the farm to the track, and they can be out together, which will help both of them.
Watching people ride is hard. Just a few years ago I dreamed of getting my bronze medal after the lovely Rosie danced well enough to get me my first and second level scores. I've imagined the joy of eventing again (low levels, of course). And I've audited a couple of clinics where the pull to be back in the saddle flared hard. But I know too much now about dysfunctional bodies and how horses as prey animals hide their pain. Until Eason has a topline that will let her carry a saddle and rider, and until she says, "Hop on. Let's go," I'm not going to ride her.
And that may or may not happen. So in the meantime we rehab with groundwork and I play with teaching her all sorts of fun things. She's not my Anglo-Arab yet, in the "invisible lines" department, but she's getting the idea and seems to think it's enjoyable. I love that even with the track system being in, she comes to the stall door when she sees me and waits for me to put on the halter.
I hope you enjoy our video!
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