The games ponies play

This morning, I was riding alone in the outdoor arena.  Don't worry, I wasn't alone on the entire property; I won't ride if I'm the only one there.  But, I was the only one riding.  This means that Obe was COMPLETELY distracted, needing to look everywhere and pay attention to everything except me.  It must be the alpha mare in her driving her to feel like she needs to take care of everything.  *sigh* 

The first 35-40 minutes were fantastic.  I got some great canter work, and I then I moved to working on some lateral stuff.  The shoulder-in has improved by leaps and bounds since I've stopped cramming her with my inside leg and, instead, have started opening the outside leg from my hip joint and inviting her to step into it.  Much more fluid. 

After a walk break, I picked the reins back up to work a bit on the timing of my half-halts in sitting trot.  I've been working on making them happen on the upbeat so that I really catch the energy rather than on the downbeat which would kill the energy.  All of the sudden, a corner that we had been riding in for over half an hour became the Lair of All Things Deadly.  Obe absolutely wouldn't go near it.  Her ears were hard and forward; she stopped dead in her tracks, then started back up with that telescoped neck and dropped back that I really hate feeling.  It took all I had in me not to get mad and take it personally.  Seriously, walking around on the buckle, the mare isn't scared of anything.  As soon as I pick up the reins to work, we have the most despicable monsters living in the corners of our arena.  *sigh...again*

This is what she sees in the corners.

So, I walked her a few times through the spooky corner, went to another part of the arena, and worked on my plan...my half-halt timing in the sitting trot.  I actually had some nice collected steps...and the transitions from trot to walk became much more fluid as I really thought about the timing of the half-halt to ask for them.  I have to move my concentration towards the fronts of my thighs and half-halt towards her crest (about where a martingale would sit).  This keeps me riding on TOP of the wave of energy rather than squashing it with my butt.  There's really no delicate way to state that...it's just what it is. 

After my successful school, I dropped the reins back to the buckle, and we walked bravely everywhere.  Silly mare. 

Lesson learned...and still being learned:  Don't take it personally.  She isn't scheming or out to get me.  She's simply acting like a horse...a mare, at that.