Training Progression of Bast: Part 4, The Problems

As I alluded to in the last post, this recap of Bast's training progression is not going to be a lot of sunshine and rainbows. Every training process can expect to hit some bumpy sections, and a retraining process can often experience more issues. Horses relearning a career can get frustrated or lose confidence. As such, I wasn't surprised when a lot of the issues I've run into with Bast have dealt with insecurity and a tendency to be a bit herd bound.

However, I can't say that lack of surprise has meant I haven't found some of his issues to be challenging and a bit scary.

Are you ready for drama?!

The insecurity has been apparent since day one. Bast hasn't been quick develop a trusting relationship to the human on the other end of the line, in addition his ability to "self soothe" seemed limited. Any situation that made him uncomfortable (a horse in turnout trotting the fence line toward him, his pasture mates spooking and making a ruckus) would cause him to withdraw inside himself. He would get very quiet, and his body would go rigid.

Thankfully, he is not a very spooky horse. (As an aside: Pig by contrast is a spooky horse. It's funny how spookiness alone does not define how dangerous a horse can seem to a person.) We ran across very few situations where Bast struggled in an uncomfortable place when he first arrived. Perhaps this was because everything was overwhelming, and he was basically in solitary confinement and had only myself to rely on.

Once he was turned out in field board, however? Issues started to manifest.

"Bletch. Changes."

When I bought Bast, his owner/breeder disclosed to me that he had a history of bolting on the track. I dug up his old racing videos to see if I could find mention of what she meant. While bolting mid race can be hard to spot (uh, hello, isn't the point to go fast?), there was plenty of evidence:

Check out that little #1 horse in the bottom left corner. Notice that jockey almost fall off the back of that little bastard in an attempt to slow him mid-bolt. Yee. Haw.

In almost every single one of Bast's races, he seems to break from the gate in a sheer panic then bolt headlong down the track. Usually he would wear himself out before the actual race began, and would finish last. When his jockey would ask him to swap leads, he would clearly be unable to listen-- instead he was just completely shut down mentally and running.

So, uh, that's cool.

I had figured most of this was due to anxiety about other horses, and I figured I would work on that and see how he handled things. The de-sensitization to working around other horses was going fantastically, and Bast had never shown me an indication to bolt. He would get fast sometimes, or bulge a bit. But that was really the worst he'd ever shown me.

Until that day in early October when all hell broke loose and he started running...

I don't know what you're talking about, Lady. This looks fine to me..."

Okay... I feel I should back track.

See, before there was bolting, there was another problem. Remember when I talked about introducing Bast to field board? I mentioned he became besties with one of the other horses in his field?

Look at them. They're so cute... sorta.

Well, actually. Bast decided their relationship went beyond besties and he went full on stalker. I'm not sure if he became so attached to his new turnout friend because he hadn't been turned out much in recent years, or because he was stressed and this horse matched his nervous energy. What I do know is that Bast morphed into a confirmed Stage 5 Clinger practically overnight.

Sigh.

 Things got so bad that my barn mate and I joked Bast had his head up Ari's ass. Then, of course, this happened...

Are you fucking kidding me horse?! That is not a good place to take a nap!

Which of course led to this ...

No. You're shitting me. Omg. What even is this life?

Things would break down when I would take Bast out of the field. He would scream constantly. He would overreact every time the horses in the field would move. He would tend to drag me around trying to return to the safety of his best friend's side. One particular day I ended up getting dragged across the property at the end of a lunge line, ripping off several nails because I refused to let go. Yet, he was still okay under saddle for the most part.

However, all that ended the day we went out into the nearby field along with my friend and Bast's favorite (and literal, sigh) butt buddy. When my friend and her horse (you know, the light and peace of Bast's heart) walked away, Bast literally dropped his brains out onto the floor.

I felt his hind end drop and his head came back into my lap and he squeezed his eyes shut and started running. My first thought as we began hurtling across the field?

"Welp, I found the bolt."

My second thought?

"OMFG HOW DO I STOP THIS THING?!"

Actual footage of me trying to pull up Bast.

See, there's one thing about a true bolting horse: You can't stop them. Sometimes you can steer them, but you can't just pull them up. So, thanking my stars that Bast is a smallish horse, I proceeded to tell the screaming child in my head to shut up a minute and attempted to influence his trajectory. Thankfully, I was able to turn him into an ever tightening circle until he had to stop.

We ended up staying out in that field for a long time, going through several all out bolts. Finally I managed to get a bit of civilized walk that didn't morph into a mindless race to oblivion and shakily dismounted.

Guys, it's confession time. See. I have this secret: I. HATE. BOLTERS.

I have this theory that everyone has at least one thing that makes them wet their pants in pure terror. For me? That's bolting. If I feel like I don't have brakes on a horse, I immediately break out into a sweat of pure fear. I contemplate leaping off, no matter how fast the horse is covering ground. It's my biggest fear.

Pictured: the most fun horse in the world with the absolute best set of brakes around.

So, over my beer and shaking nerves that first night I thought over my problems. While the bolting scared the crap out of me, I knew Bast had it in him to be a sweet and thinking baby horse with a lot of potential. Maybe it was the beer talking, but I decided not to put him aside just because of some bolting.

"With some work," I thought. "We can get through this." So I started thinking of a plan.

"Come on, little man. Work with me here."

... To be continued

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For past editions of The Training Progression of Bast, check out these links:

Part 1: Lunging

Part 2: The Early Rides

Part 2.5: The Early Rides Forgotten Video Clips

Part 3: The Not-So-Early Rides