sassandbells
Well-Known Member
Sharing in case anyone else has any ideas of what they would do, or if anyone would just like a chuckle at my terrible luck this morning! I’m almost a bit tearful reading this all back!
The next step for my youngster has been to get her out hacking solo. We’ve done a lot of short hacks, she’s been out with people on foot (but behind us), and last week we did our first solo mini “hack”.. half of the 25 minute loop we have. This morning, I’d hoped to try again and see if we could do the whole loop. Last time she was a little bit nervous, so I left it on a good note without pushing her too much. The plan was just to see how we went and make a decision.
So early doors and tacked up by 7:15, we headed off far more confidently than on our previous solo attempt. We headed along the road and up the track with no issues, ears pricked and a forward but not anxious walk. Then we had our first challenge. The track leads up to a big open field, and the usual test there is either kids on dirt bikes or dogs off lead, but usually it’s empty. Not today! The local dog rescue had decided to do a photo shoot so immediately ahead of us were a bunch of dogs, lots of people, flappy rescue banners, and a heap of camera equipment. Lilly froze. We took a moment to have a look, but she seemed quite happy to continue so down the edge of the field we went.
We were happily walking along and turned onto the first part of the loop and the point where we could no longer turn back, a single file, overgrown pathway that leads down to the woods. We’ve done it plenty of times, so I thought it would be fine. That is until two deer jumped across the path about 5 metres ahead of us. Lilly jumped on the spot and took a couple of steps sideways. Okay, that’s manageable I said to myself, while talking to Lilly in an overly cheery voice to try and chill us both out. I felt like we were calm enough to keep going so we did. Then came another big spook on the spot, front feet wider than I knew was possible. No clue what it was at, but we continued, armed with my terrible singing voice and 100 Green Bottles on a loop.
We actually managed a short trot through the woods and got over 60% of the way round the loop when out popped a giant young Vizsla bouncing up to us with no owner in sight. I asked Lilly to stand, and she very hesitantly obliged, all while doing her best dragon impression. The owner finally caught up and shouted “Oh, she’s friendly! She just wants to play!” Eventually they managed to take the dog away, and Lilly still standing like a rock seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
I started to relax because we were finally on the home straight and, surely, nothing else could go wrong?! We rarely see anything on this route, so what else could the world throw at us?
And then it started. Two geese suddenly started flapping and screaming at each other on the small patch of water next to the track. I genuinely didn’t know what to do at this point. Lilly was frozen, I could feel her shaking and her racing heartbeat through my legs. We couldn’t turn around. She knew this way was home, and if I put too much leg on and she took off, I’d have no hope. We stood for a while until I figured out what to do, and then remembered I have a bag of treats!
So I very gently asked the still quivering Lilly to take one step forward and instantly shoved a treat in her mouth. Then I asked for another step and treated again. We repeated this until we were almost past the swamp where the two geese had suddenly decided to cause chaos… and then it went quiet. Typical. Slowly I let Lilly take a few more steps, easing back into an extremely bouncy but slightly more controlled walk.
Surely nothing else could happen.
Lilly started to chill a bit on the stretch of track back to the large field. I managed to get her on a loose rein and all seemed fine, the cameras and dogs had cleared out, and everything was quiet and calm. We were strolling through the big field quite happily.
Then out of the woods shot two bikes. The first guy hit something a bit wrong and came flying off his bike about 25m away from us. At this point Lilly barely reacted but came to a standstill and looked thoroughly exhausted. The guy was fine and apologised and we continued down the field. I felt so sorry for Lilly at this point, I’ve never had such an eventful hack in all the years I’ve been at this yard and she’s had everything thrown at her on only her second ever time out alone.
We got about halfway down the big field and she halted. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I suspected she was just exhausted. I figured if I asked her to walk and she halted again, I’d get off and lead her but she obliged and we managed to get home without any further incidents.
I gave her a big hug and lots of treats when we got back both to apologise for how stressful that must have been for her and to thank her for getting us both home safely. Looking back on it, though, I don’t think any of our “nanny” horses would have coped with all of that. My usual steady one would definitely have lost it at the geese. So now I feel a bit bad for putting her in that situation, but equally, I’m so impressed with how she handled it. The plan now is to get her out in company a few more times and show her that hacking can be fun again, before going back to trying solo.
Also curious to hear from anyone else who’s had a hack where something completely unexpected happened and how you managed it! I’m generally pretty confident hacking solo, but today definitely challenged me!
The next step for my youngster has been to get her out hacking solo. We’ve done a lot of short hacks, she’s been out with people on foot (but behind us), and last week we did our first solo mini “hack”.. half of the 25 minute loop we have. This morning, I’d hoped to try again and see if we could do the whole loop. Last time she was a little bit nervous, so I left it on a good note without pushing her too much. The plan was just to see how we went and make a decision.
So early doors and tacked up by 7:15, we headed off far more confidently than on our previous solo attempt. We headed along the road and up the track with no issues, ears pricked and a forward but not anxious walk. Then we had our first challenge. The track leads up to a big open field, and the usual test there is either kids on dirt bikes or dogs off lead, but usually it’s empty. Not today! The local dog rescue had decided to do a photo shoot so immediately ahead of us were a bunch of dogs, lots of people, flappy rescue banners, and a heap of camera equipment. Lilly froze. We took a moment to have a look, but she seemed quite happy to continue so down the edge of the field we went.
We were happily walking along and turned onto the first part of the loop and the point where we could no longer turn back, a single file, overgrown pathway that leads down to the woods. We’ve done it plenty of times, so I thought it would be fine. That is until two deer jumped across the path about 5 metres ahead of us. Lilly jumped on the spot and took a couple of steps sideways. Okay, that’s manageable I said to myself, while talking to Lilly in an overly cheery voice to try and chill us both out. I felt like we were calm enough to keep going so we did. Then came another big spook on the spot, front feet wider than I knew was possible. No clue what it was at, but we continued, armed with my terrible singing voice and 100 Green Bottles on a loop.
We actually managed a short trot through the woods and got over 60% of the way round the loop when out popped a giant young Vizsla bouncing up to us with no owner in sight. I asked Lilly to stand, and she very hesitantly obliged, all while doing her best dragon impression. The owner finally caught up and shouted “Oh, she’s friendly! She just wants to play!” Eventually they managed to take the dog away, and Lilly still standing like a rock seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
I started to relax because we were finally on the home straight and, surely, nothing else could go wrong?! We rarely see anything on this route, so what else could the world throw at us?
And then it started. Two geese suddenly started flapping and screaming at each other on the small patch of water next to the track. I genuinely didn’t know what to do at this point. Lilly was frozen, I could feel her shaking and her racing heartbeat through my legs. We couldn’t turn around. She knew this way was home, and if I put too much leg on and she took off, I’d have no hope. We stood for a while until I figured out what to do, and then remembered I have a bag of treats!
So I very gently asked the still quivering Lilly to take one step forward and instantly shoved a treat in her mouth. Then I asked for another step and treated again. We repeated this until we were almost past the swamp where the two geese had suddenly decided to cause chaos… and then it went quiet. Typical. Slowly I let Lilly take a few more steps, easing back into an extremely bouncy but slightly more controlled walk.
Surely nothing else could happen.
Lilly started to chill a bit on the stretch of track back to the large field. I managed to get her on a loose rein and all seemed fine, the cameras and dogs had cleared out, and everything was quiet and calm. We were strolling through the big field quite happily.
Then out of the woods shot two bikes. The first guy hit something a bit wrong and came flying off his bike about 25m away from us. At this point Lilly barely reacted but came to a standstill and looked thoroughly exhausted. The guy was fine and apologised and we continued down the field. I felt so sorry for Lilly at this point, I’ve never had such an eventful hack in all the years I’ve been at this yard and she’s had everything thrown at her on only her second ever time out alone.
We got about halfway down the big field and she halted. I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I suspected she was just exhausted. I figured if I asked her to walk and she halted again, I’d get off and lead her but she obliged and we managed to get home without any further incidents.
I gave her a big hug and lots of treats when we got back both to apologise for how stressful that must have been for her and to thank her for getting us both home safely. Looking back on it, though, I don’t think any of our “nanny” horses would have coped with all of that. My usual steady one would definitely have lost it at the geese. So now I feel a bit bad for putting her in that situation, but equally, I’m so impressed with how she handled it. The plan now is to get her out in company a few more times and show her that hacking can be fun again, before going back to trying solo.
Also curious to hear from anyone else who’s had a hack where something completely unexpected happened and how you managed it! I’m generally pretty confident hacking solo, but today definitely challenged me!
we do occasionally have terrible hacks one the other week was full of rattly trailers trying to race past, loopy 4yo pulling shapes, tractor and large trailer 'chasing' 4 loose sheep on the road towards us...
