Here We Go Spook – De – Spook!

So since there was no western rotation of Nationals this year, I decided Halo needed to get out and do something that will make her work her mind before we tried to go to Regionals again. So we signed up for a de-spooking clinic at Highpoint Equestrian Center.

 

Some of the obstacles were to walk over a mattress, to get used to an umbrella, or a water box, or walking over a tarp and poles with empty plastic bottles in it. There were also poles setup where the horse had to walk through pool noodles, shredded plastic, poles with balloons on them.  They also had to wear and/or drag a tarp.

 

So we get there, and my filly is full of herself, prancing and whipping her head around looking at everything. If there is anything I’ve learned about this filly, it is that anything goes, as long as she has food. So I usually let her graze a tiny bit anywhere new, and that seems to reassure her. So we did that.

 

Then we went over to sign up for the clinic. I tied her to the hitching post (eek, I was a little nervous here!) and left Halo in the very novice hands of my boyfriend. He of course thinks I’m being silly for worrying that she will pull back and slip on the concrete and mangle herself, but any of my fellow equestrian worrywarts will fully understand.

 

So anyway, I run inside, sign all the forms and take a quick peak at the obstacles and instantly my heart starts racing. Small dark arena? Multiple horses? Stuff everywhere?! Just about the time my eyes were welling up with tears and my heart was getting ready to climb up my throat I mentally thought, “Okay, time to quit being such a baby. Your horse has a good brain, she will either be fine, or the trainer will take her and help you. Quit being a baby!” And so I went outside and got my baby horse. We walked in the arena with a very slight snort\, and big round Arabian eyes (you know, the kind that look like their brain could fall out of them at any moment?).

 

So anyways, we go stand in the corner of the arena (our very wary Arabian butt facing the railing behind which people were standing, constantly tucking tail and considering scooting) and listen to Tom, the trainer, explain that we are to take obstacles one at a time, leave safe spacing between everyone, and be vigilant of other horses in the arena so that there aren’t any wrecks.

 

Then he turns us loose. So I decide my first order of business is to walk around the arena and look at stuff. I immediately walk up to a balloon on the ground and kick it thinking it would spook her and get her to realize this was no ordinary walk in the park. Instead the toe of my boot popped it, and she didn’t even blink, just kept walking.

 

Wait. What? Um, okay. So we went ahead and walked up to the pool noodles on the ground and walked through those. Squeaky sounds commence. Aaaaand here it comes! Nothing. Just walked on through.

 

Soooo… did my horse’s brain ACTUALLY fall out her eyes and she now has the brain of the 30 year old paint a few pastures over orrrr…??

 

So I decided to try something a bit harder. Let’s go through the “car wash” (a sort of doorway that has strips of clear tarp hanging down that looks like a car wash). We weren’t THRILLED with this. She really didn’t mind putting her head and neck through, but anything rear of her withers was an excuse to spook. Clearly some patterns were showing (we don’t like things where we can’t see them). I took her through a few times until we were decidedly less flinch and moved on.



Halo says, well I can totally put my head through!

The next obstacle we tried was the jump standards with balloons taped to them so when you walk through they brushed your horses sides. She didn’t love it and went a bit quicker than I would’ve liked, so we concentrated on that for a bit. Eventually I was able to walk her through, AND back her through with very little flinch.

 

Then we went to walk through the empty pop bottles on top of a tarp. Nothing.

 

Then we went to walk over the high visibility orange plastic emergency/snow fence laid on the ground. It sounds crackly and even I hated walking on it. While she attempted to avoid it, she didn’t really care about it either.

Bridge was easy. Umbrella was a non-event (we wore it, we stepped on it… you know whateverrrr…). Walking over the mattress was a little exciting, she went to walk over it like it was a bridge and realized as she stepped on it that it was NOT solid. So we sort of launched off of it. After that it took a few times to get her over it without getting worried.

 

Raindrops aren’t falling on my head!

Then came our one sticking point. The one I was most convinced she was going to avoid. And avoid she did. The water box. We worked that thing for like 10 minutes before Tom came over and worked her through. Once she went she was quite calm about it. It was clearly a stubborn “I don’t want to get wet, wahhhh” Thing, as opposed to an “Oh boy, that’s awfully scary” thing. I was able to get her through a few times more.

 

Then since time wasn’t up yet, I upped the ante and went ahead and threw the tarp over her and walked her through the pool noodles. Nothing.

 

And lastly was the noise portion. We were to walk our horses around near the speakers where they played car horns, semi air brakes, clapping/cheering, dogs barking etc. None of these phased her.

 

Then came time for the flashing light and smoke machine. This was a little worrisome and probably the most reaction I got all day, but eventually it wan’t an issue either.

 

Interestingly, the worst part of the day was when I tied her to the arena wall to eat our boxed lunch that was provided. HELLLLOOO hole to China!

 

When all was said and done, we hopped right on the trailer and had an uneventful ride home. And she was happy to have some grassJ