A Bit That Fits

Doc Arnett

April 2

After several days of strong winds and chilly temps,
we welcome the pleasant change of calm and warmth
that came on the last Saturday morning in March.

Ken and Medina have flown themselves in 
from California to northeast Kansas
to check out Randa's Tennessee Walker.
"I know it's a long way but there's just something about him
than draws me to him," Medina explains.

Maybe it's not so much explanation as confession.
I've had it happen myself with horses, dogs, and people,
something other than logic and physics
to account for the sometimes-mystical attractions we feel.

Ken and I sit on the concrete ledge near the round pen,
exploring common threads in the fabric of our lives
while Randa and Medina worked with the lean black gelding.
Handling a horse like this takes the patience of a mother
and a welded backbone as well.

Something in his particular blending of genetics
and history has made Jazz more than a bit leery
and it takes a sure hand that is gentle and firm
and a sharp, sensitive eye for noticing
and interpreting the sometimes-subtle indications
of what a horse is thinking—and about to do.

He did not respond all that well to the first lifting of the saddle:
ears back and head lifted up in rapid motions,
stepping back and shifting his rear end one way
and then another.

It's the bit that gives him the biggest fit, though.
A constant pushing of the tongue and shaking his head,
trying to rid himself of the discomfort in his mouth.

Medina puts on her helmet but has second thoughts 
about getting on right away.

After several minutes of this,
Ken suggests "Take the saddle and bridle off 
and give him a break.
Come back later after he's settled a bit and try him again."

I have seen from time to time
in these seven decades of mine
that an offer of rest for even a short while
can yield both strength and inclination
to better deal with some testing or trial.
Interrupting the inertia of resistance
can make persistence more productive:
An ounce of patience is better than a pounding.

An hour later, re-saddled and with a bit that better fit,
Jazz was gaiting Randa around the round pen
as if he'd just been waiting for a chance to do it again.

And I was reminded that the wisdom of watching
and taking measure of how others are reacting,
mixed in with at least a modicum of empathy,
can often lead to better experience
on both sides of the saddle.