Let the training begin

January 2004Go back to who picked whom, part 2.

L was two and a half when I brought her home. She was halter broke and that was about it. I had spent the afternoon with her at Ferme Litjens and she wouldn't let me close enough to touch her and she had no idea what an apple or a carrot was, so treats weren't going to help build our friendship. I figured we'd just sort that all out later.

After giving her a few days to settle in and get acquainted (it didn't take her long to learn about carrots!), we did some leading and decided to see if she'd cross tie.

Nope. That wasn't a good idea. Oh she cross tied just fine but as I was going to learn - trust was going to be a huge issue. At the slightest provocation she just broke the cross ties. Nothing to it. Next day I decided I'd just tie her lead rope off to a post and groom her.  Nope. Broke the snap right off the lead rope.

Truth is L was quite the handful and I was going to learn a lot. It's the main reason I decided to blog. To share training stories. I have tons of training stories. Being with L is the most comfortable, secure and satisfying place in my world. People see us now and they have no idea how much work it took to get here.

You know how you might drop a brush while you're grooming your horse? Well. I'd drop a brush and she break the cross ties and go out the other end of the barn backwards. I was going to spend a lot of money on cross ties.

This was winter 2003/2004 and just about every single night for *months* I threw brushes around the barn. I dropped halters. I made obstacle courses with feed bags and bedding bags. I dropped jackets and blankets. I kicked milk crates over. No you can't desensitize your horse to everything. But hopefully somewhere in this organized chaos she'd get the message.

L is very smart and attentive. Part of the challenge is the simple fact she does not miss a thing. That's part of the alpha thing. And she is extreme alpha. Hey that's a good name for a blog! There was a time she'd get all woofy over just a bucket in the wrong place. It's very funny now. But it wasn't very funny then.

There was a time when I was so scared of L I could barely put on her bridle because of the way my hands would shake. I'd break out in a sweat just thinking about saddling up. She was a scary horse when she was younger. She was bold and dominant and she can still throw quite unforgettable tantrums. For a long time I thought I'd just never get it.

Edit 8 January 2011: Tying troubles

Who picked whom? Part 2.

Did I mention what a dreary day it was? Here, a rest stop in New Hampshire on the way to Quebec. It was foggy, it was cold and it was either raining or misting all day.


But Vermont is always pretty and we packed Dorito's and vegetables and dip for the trip.

Go back and read part 1.

I wasn't there shopping. I was just hanging out. Normand Litjens has a beautiful Canadian Horse farm with lovely stock. Nice people too. We'd arrived around noon, a little earlier than expected. Normand had a bunch of yearlings and two year olds in his barn for my friend M to see. I don't know how many he'd brought in, but there were quite a few. Only two of them were chestnuts. My friend M and our trainer were looking at horses and I wandered around the barn a bit just looking at horse butts. I scanned the lines one way, then the other, and something made me stop.

Cue the singing angels.

I saw this one chestnut filly with her face in a pile of hay and all I can think of is the phrase "whoa, do you see what I see?". That was it. I didn't see a single other horse.

I asked Normand to bring this horse out for me to get a better look.

I had made a third lap around her before M and our trainer even noticed "something was going on". I was just being formal. I'd made my mind up. I found myself a horse. This filly looked over her shoulder at me with this "oh you think so huh?" look on her face and that was it.

I had Normand turn her loose in the yard and my trainer came over, looked at the horse, looked at me, looked at the horse, looked at me and kind of said "uh-oh" to herself. She was thinking there better be nothing wrong with this horse.

She looked her over and we turned her loose in one of the bigger pastures with one of her little herdmates.

Nope, nothing wrong with that horse.

Yes, I'll take that one thanks.

Early on it was clear. Rolling is one of her most favorite things.

We brought both of those fillies home. L, the chestnut and my friend M brought home her little black herdmate, M. M was a yearling.

It was gonna take a month or so to process the paperwork and bring them across the border. Much to everyone's surprise I had myself a horse. To this day we don't really if I picked the horse or the horse picked me. Everyone on the property was slack jawed when they saw we had this electric thing going on.

I really had no idea what was in store for me!

L has beautiful blood lines. Here's her sire Nava. He'd just take your breath away.


L comes from the LG Royal bloodline through Nava. While I don't know very much about it I think her dam has some really interesting bloodlines. Her dam's bloodlines include some Brio from which has come some beautiful beasts. L is definitely the "Little Iron Horse" type of Canadian Horse. Probably gets that as much from her dam as her sire.

And she's everything a Canadian Horse is supposed to be. I'm not always sure it started out that way. Oh, I suppose it did. She was pretty sensible 3 year old.

Edit 19 Dec 2010 to add: Let the Training Begin.

Who picked whom? Part 1.

L on October 26th, 2003, 2 years old.


2003 had been a very bad year.

I'd lost my crazy OTTB over the wintertime. We had been treating him for EPM since November (2002) and while there was an occasional encouraging sign it was a losing battle. My J was dumb as a post but he was as lovable a creature as there ever was. Somehow he and I came to an understanding and we took care of each other. He taught me a lot. I think he was 15 years old and whatever the case, he still had a lot left. I still miss him something awful.

We had several Canadian Horses in our barn. They were all black. Everybody wants black Canadian Horses. I had known of Canadian Horses for a year or two before I knew they came in chestnut. I'm kinda partial to chestnut horses. That's important.

So over the summertime I half leased a lovely (black) Canadian mare. I think she was 4 years old. Green as can be. She was (is) a perfectly lovely animal. Of course she wasn't mine so I was careful not to get too attached. Just as well. There were some barn issues and some drama. Things didn't work out.

By the way. I think every barn needs one of these:

Maybe I'll have some made.

I was half heartedly looking for a Spotted Draft Horse in the fall when it came time to take my B for the long walk. B was my Quarter Horse. He was my first horse. He'd had navicular disease, a painful bone disease in his front feet. It got to where he would hardly take a step without a couple of bute in him and it was time. I never knew his age but our best guess was he was maybe 23 or 24 years old.

It's fair to say in October 2003 I was in a funk of sorts.

My riding partner at the time, M, had also recently lost her horse. She had a arranged a shopping trip to Ferme Litjens in Quebec to look for a Canadian Horse.

I went along for the ride. I wasn't really shopping...

Added October 3, 2010: go on to part 2

Meet my therapist

Here. A treat for your eyes!


I'll call her "L". This lovely beast was born in 2001. L is a 9 year old purebred Cheval Canadien. The names of all Chevaux Canadiens born in 2001 begin with the letter L. She's mostly known as Sweety but she can also be a real booger sometimes.

L is everything a Cheval Canadien is supposed to be. A "little iron horse" type, she's strong, she's smart, she's steady, she's bold, she's brave, and she's gentle as a lamb.

We haven't been without our "issues". She's a very dominant mare. It took some doing to win her over but she's pure solid gold and tons of fun.

I brought her home when she was 2 and a half. We're still not sure who picked whom. I have a problem with the whole "ownership" thing. I'm really her guardian. She's my horse, I'm her human, and I can hang out with her any time I want, which inspired the title for my blog. It really doesn't get much better than hanging out with L. She's my best friend in the whole world. And really, if that was your best friend wouldn't you be Living the Dream?