One of the horses that I’ve been helping Jay train, is one of the horses that Diane has bred herself. She’s a big, brown thoroughbred. Her name is Portia.
She isn’t that young anymore, maybe eight or so, but she has a story that explains why she is here training with Jay, when she should be somewhere else, winning horse shows. Jay got her started a couple of years ago, and he says it went well. Then Diane sent her to a training stable, where they were supposed to continue her training and make her a show jumping horse. But they couldn’t handle her. Jay thinks that, as English riders often are, they were too tough on her and didn’t understand that she’s a sensitive horse. They completely ruined her self-confidence, and then they sent her back to Diane.
In a way, training a horse that’s already been trained, but wrongly, is much harder than starting up a horse that has no training at all. The first times with me on Portia, we had to just concentrate on getting her to not want to run away from everything. Eventually she realised that I wasn’t going to pull her mouth – I didn’t even ride with a bit. Jay had me riding in a halter, just to make sure that I didn’t accidentally pull her mouth. For every training session, she got calmer and more relaxed, she stopped trying to run away and actually listened to what I tried to ask of her.
Oh, but when she was calm, she had the most wonderful trot, so fluent and energic. And her canter, once she stopped racing, was really easy to sit in. I could feel that she had the potential for quick speed changes, something that is very important in a show jumping horse. And the fluency of her stride made me believe that she would be a real master jumper too. If only she had a rider whom she trusted and who inspired self-confidence in her.
Every training session, before mounting, Jay taught me how to do the roundpenning exercises with her. Getting her to run around me, stop, look me up, how I should get her to move away from me and then follow me. It looks so easy when Jay does it, but being there in the middle of the roundpen, with an excited horse cantering around me – it’s scary. Not in the way that I was afraid, but more that I was nervous that I would do something wrong and totally scare her instead. But Jay helped me, gave me instructions and maybe told me off a couple of times. Mostly, I felt clumsy and stupid, but for every time I got a little bit more secure, my timing got a little bit better and Portia got a little bit more relaxed.
During our last training session, I got her to dance around me and then follow me like a huge, brown dog. It’s an amazing feeling, when a horse wants to be with you like that.
Jay said that she liked me, already from the start, and that I looked good on her. I felt that too. Sometimes you just connect with a horse, it’s like you understand each other. That was what happened the first time I rode my pony Ofelia. And something similar happened with Portia. Not as if everything was just perfect right away, but more like she made me become the rider she needed in order to become a better riding horse. She needed a calm and light rider, so that’s what I became. Without even trying.
And it’s the same with people, really. The ones that I like the most also tend to be the ones that bring out the sides of me that I like the most myself. For me, that is really important. Some people just make me awful, while others bring out new and exciting things in me that I didn’t even know was there.
That’s what Portia did. She was this beautiful creature who just needed someone to be slow with her, be calm and believe in her. That’s my biggest regret, now that I’ve left Time Out Farms, that I won’t be able to continue being that person for her.
Horses are like people. Some love to be photographed and will gladly show you their best side. While others can’t stand the pressure and aoways make funny faces instead. Guess what kind Portia is?
Katja Malmborg 