Driving and Holding, Consistently

The mare isn't having it.  As Lorenzo pushes the big bay roan up into the canter, she balls up, wrings her tail and squirts pee -- a sure sign she's in heat.  Over and over, the able cowboy asks for an action and again and again, the mare declines.  Taking a different approach, Lorenzo side-passes the mare halfway around the arena and the mare goes to chomping her bit furiously, still refusing to yield.

Again, Lorenzo cues the mare up into the canter.  As they thunder past, I smell the sweat, the frustration.  I pick up my cell phone and dial Rosie.

"Drifty's being a pill.  You may not want to ride her."

Five minutes later, Rosie stands next to me.  As Lorenzo labors to bend the mare to his will, Rosie watches.  Gradually, Drifty softens, although it is by no means a complete or total surrender.

"You ready to ride?" Lorenzo asks Rosie.

"Sure."

Rosie swings into the saddle and the mare's eyes grow wide under the weight of someone new, someone with strong legs.  As Rosie walks Drifty, she adjusts her reins and measures the mare.  Then, cueing Drifty to trot, Rosie drives the mare up into the bridle and holds her there.  There is no anger, no argument in Rosie's action.  Simply the drive and hold, applied skillfully and consistently until Drifty provides a right action at which point Rosie releases the reins lightly.

Rosie Drives and Holds Drifty

Always testing, Drifty tries to shoulder away from Rosie's grasp.  The mare's cantankerous heat-driven will steams full speed into the rock-solid wall of Rosie's strong legs and hands.  Walls do not give.  When Drifty looks for an open door, when she balks or balls up, Rosie pushes her forward, always forward.  One, two, three, four tries and Drifty softly gives, earning Rosie's release and earnest praise.

I tell her she's wasting her time in college, that she should be here, riding horses.  She laughs.  Lorenzo laughs.  I laugh, too.