Lady and the Water Bottle
Lady, the most wonderful, kind-hearted older mare, came to MRF in December 2017 to help out as a lesson horse. She arrived from the most loving woman, who absolutely adores her—her “heart horse,” as she put it. And when you look at Lady, she has this open, calm eye that draws you in and makes you want to hug her all day long.
I feel so blessed to have had her presence and to learn from her throughout the winter. Her kindness helped me through some of the emotions I was feeling after losing my dear Radu in November—Lady was here to help me heal, in a sense. I was fortunate to share her beautiful spirit with my riding students as spring approached.
Mazy and Lady enjoyed a magical trail ride after arena work the other day.
When she first came, she hadn’t done any work since the previous summer, so the first step was getting her back into shape. I started with groundwork and, of course, began introducing the clicker. Lady is a strong draft cross and had a habit of using her big head to pull whoever was leading her around—not ideal for kids to handle. Instead of beginning with a formal clicker training introduction (like targeting), I focused on helping her work better with me on the ground at the walk. Most of her role here would be groundwork, so that’s where we began.
We started in the arena with the WALK—a basic but essential foundation. I wanted to show her that I was the leader and she was to be my (well-behaved) follower. My goal was to reinforce her with the click when I halted and she stopped behind me. That "behind me" part was key—after all, the lead horse’s nose should always be out front, and that needed to be me.
At first, when I stopped, she didn’t stop right away and would end up in front of me. So I used calm, gentle, quick squeeze-and-release motions on the lead rope clip with my left hand while turning my shoulders back and pulsing on her chest with the other hand to cue her back. Click, then treat.
She was a bit sticky and resistant to moving back at first—and she wasn’t a fan of my cookies either. She was unsure about these walking games since she preferred to lead. But over time, with mindfulness, calm consistency, and gentle handling, she began to back up without needing much connection on the rope or pressure on her chest. Stroking her neck and a soft “good girl” turned out to be more meaningful rewards for her in those moments.
We walked in circles and straight lines, halting in all sorts of spots around the arena to keep things interesting and unpredictable. I paid close attention to using body cues to let her know when I was about to stop—slowing my pace and leaning my shoulders back. Since horses naturally look for body language to guide them, she picked up on this quickly. Soon, I didn’t have to touch her at all to move her back when she stopped in front of me. She began stopping behind me, calm and focused. It felt so rewarding when it all came together.
Lady is a very smart, sensitive mare who wants to please, which made our work both challenging and incredibly fun. Once we got the halts down, I got a little pickier—I started asking her to halt without leaning into me and began reinforcing square halts with her shoulders even. These walking lessons happened everywhere: in the arena, on the way to and from the stall, or walking to the cross-ties. Anytime I handled her, it became part of our lesson. We played these walking games for a few days before moving on to the next step.
Next step: LUNGING.
The walking work helped us build mutual understanding, taught us each other’s cues, and fostered a calm, connected relationship. Lunging was more difficult, but I knew we had already made great progress—and I trusted we’d figure this out together too.
When working with a new horse, part of the journey is uncovering how they were trained and what cues they understand. I spent time observing how Lady responded to my cues—listening through her movements—so I could be the best possible leader for her.
I noticed she was very sensitive to the whip and assumed I wanted her to move fast, fast, fast when on the lunge line. Maybe that was a carryover from her driving days. To adjust, I used the whip slowly and gently—stroking her neck with it, keeping it low while lunging. I wanted it to be a tool that could energize but also soothe, like scratching an itchy spot or saying “thank you, good girl.”