'Tis the Season

Last week, Izzy got crankier each day I rode. Rather than push him through the spookiness and reluctance to go forward, I backed off and worked him at the walk, returning to trot when he felt more ready. On Friday, I rolled my eyes in exasperation. What now? He was very unhappy in his work, so I spent the last 20 minutes of the ride just walking, asking him to move his body around. As I rode, it occurred to me that Friday was the first day of October. That explained it.

Every spring and fall - February and October to be precise, Izzy experiences some neurological/physiological pain or discomfort commonly referred to as Trigeminal-mediated headshaking. It happens every year like clockwork. On the first warm day in February - here, that means our first couple of 80 degree days, Izzy flicks his head sharply, rubs at his nose, and snorts/sneezes frequently. To see him do it, it looks like he's being stung on the nose. In the fall, right around October, the symptoms are different. Instead of visual head shaking, he becomes very distressed while being ridden. He spooks, chomps frantically at the bit, gets very wide-eyed, and generally acts miserable.

From 2016

My vet and I have discussed this many times. In his experience, seasonal changes can induce headshaking. For Izzy, it is the amount of daylight we have in spring and fall that trigger his symptoms. In February, our days begin getting longer quickly, and in October, the daylight is fast disappearing. It's interesting that it is only the equinoxes that affect him, not the solstices (when the sun is at its highest and lowest points). Early on, I tried a few things to mitigate the symptoms - an anatomical bridle, a nose net, magnesium, and other supplements. Nothing really worked. The symptoms just pass on their own.
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On Saturday morning, I took a lesson with Sean Cunningham, owner and trainer at STC Dressage. While I waited for Sean to join me in the Pivo Cast, I warmed Izzy up. To my surprise, he was very willing, in front of my leg, and soft. Sean joined me, and we got to work. For the first half of the lesson, Izzy did everything that was asked of him, and everything felt fabulous. Over the past few months, Sean has shown me how to loosen Izzy's back by doing lots of leg yields and other exercises that encourage Izzy to cross over with his hind legs. Each week, Sean helps me build on what we learned the week before.

Spring 2017

After a short walk break, Sean suggested we work on a tiny bit of lengthening. Almost immediately, Izzy shut down. He tightened his back, spooked in every corner, and began gnashing at the bit. I was very surprised because what we had been asking him to do beforehand - canter leg yields, was much more difficult. So why get so stressed out over a bit of a trot lengthening?

I immediately felt my frustration rise. Sean reminded me not to make it a "thing," something I had just blogged about, but it had already become a thing. We were struggling with one corner in particular. Each time we came through it, Izzy flew sideways, twisting his body violently as he tried to jerk the reins through my fingers. Sean encouraged me to avoid riding into that corner with the expectation that Izzy might spook. I explained to him that unless I put my aids on and really pushed him into the corner, I had no control. I understood what Sean was asking me to do, but he couldn't feel Izzy. I knew that without putting my aids on, there was no way Izzy was going into that corner.

After another huge spook and bolt, I told Sean I needed to change the conversation, and I let Izzy canter. After several circles, Sean asked me to walk him because he could see that the tension was only escalating, and that is what we are trying to avoid. As we walked, I went back to the work I'd been doing during the week, lots of turns, ten-meter half circles, turns on the forehand - anything that asked Izzy to move his body around.

Fall 2017

As I helped Izzy to relax, Sean and i chatted about what was going on. When I asked why the trot lengthening set Izzy off after the much harder leg yield work, Sean explained that going forward while straight is a tension building movement. In order to lengthen, horses have to build positive tension. For Izzy, when he's already experiencing the "discomfort" of the headshaking, that added bit of tension is simply more than he can handle.

Rather than be discouraged by the situation, Sean explained that we now have an opportunity to build more trust with Izzy. By not pushing him through the work but by backing off, we are telling Izzy that we hear him and that we are here to support him. Izzy's willingness to work in the first part of the lesson proved that my approach the day before had made a difference. As long as this episode lasts, Sean encouraged me to go as slowly as I need to because once this is over, Izzy will have even more trust in me.

Last week I shared Sean's post about taking the time that it takes. When we listen to our horses and do what they need, we will ultimately get much farther in our journey than if we try to push them before they are ready. Sean helped me see that rather than seeing this as a setback, I need to use it as an opportunity to further strengthen my relationship with Izzy.

I have a very complicated horse. Whenever I remind Sean of this fact, he rolls his eyes (I think because I can't actually see him do it) and says, "if they were all easy, we'd all be Charlotte Dujardin and Valegro." It's easy to be patient once or twice or even five times, but Sean's level of patience with Izzy and me is now appearing to be unlimited. Each time I bring Sean a new problem, he looks it over, gives it a thought, and reduces it to a tiny pebble. 

Instead of seeing a mountain of problems that I can't overcome, Sean is creating a path of pebbles that serve to keep the dust down.