My relationship with Ali Sabi, that is. It's complicated. He's my emotional child, I guess you could say. The kid I never had. The one I am so proud of, and want everyone else to love, too.
I raised him from an embryo. He was conceived next to the fiery rubble of our little shed-barn. I nearly lost him when his dam needed colic surgery when he was only 10 months baked. Despite all this, he lived. He was foaled in a light rain on an April evening. I missed the foaling, and in retrospect that was probably a good thing. After all that had happened leading up to the actual event, witnessing it myself probably would have sent me over the edge. And as eventful as all the lead up was, the event itself was, well, a non-event. A textbook birth by all evidence I could see.
I did a lot of things right with Sabi. I did a lot of things wrong, too. I'd never raised a foal before. My horses had all come to me grown and trained, Fina being the exception to the "trained" part. So when Sabi appeared I thought I knew what to do in order to teach him, but in reality I did not know enough. I taught him to give to pressure at his poll and drop his head. I taught him to be a gentleman about his feet and being touched all over his body. I taught him to accept the halter. I taught him many other good, useful things like being desensitized to the feel of a saddle.
However, I failed on some of the other more important things. I did not teach him to respect my space. He was so danged cute and cuddly. I treated him like a fuzzy toy. He got mouthy and I could not seem to break him of that habit. He got pushy as he grew and I did not know how to push back, or how to be a leader. He was an all-boy, alpha, intelligent horse and he knew he had me from the word go. Never studdish, and gelded at less than 10 months, but every day the question was asked - "Who's in charge? You or me?"
By the time he was four, he was in some ways a nice, manageable horse and in other ways, an ill-mannered hellion. That Khemosabi blood came through in the friendly, social, people-loving personality but the ZT Ali Baba blood showed itself in the pinned ears and mouthy demeanor (no offense to the late ZT Ali Baba but I always was given to understand he was a bit of surly individual). Sabi could be led, but he would push into you, walk ahead of you, etc. if the mood struck He would stand quietly for the vet and blacksmith, but had a mind of his own about what he wanted to do when it was just me and him. He would blow up if I asked him to do something he did not want to do. I'd become fearful, give up, and just go in the house.
I was at my wit's end. Be careful what you wish for because you might get it - and I did. I'd wanted a smart, handsome, athletic, capable horse. Check - got it all. Now what do I do with him? I'd brought him into this world and I was responsible for him. I could do nothing more and I did not even know where to start. I was embarrassed and ashamed at my own lack of responsibility in being better prepared to raise him. I'd seen natural horsemanship techniques on TV and in person at various events, but I did not understand how they worked.
As luck would have it, I have a friend who had a gelding three weeks older than Sabi. The colt had actually lived with us for almost a year after his dam died. My friend's blacksmith, it turned out, trained horses. He specialized in youngsters and only took on two at a time so he could give them his full attention. After meeting him and seeing how he handled his own horses, I did not hesitate to sign Sabi up for a stay at summer camp!
Sabi went off to be trained at four years old and it was a fantastic experience for him. He was there for three months and I believe he thoroughly enjoyed it. He loved and respected his trainer. The farm was not far from us, so I visited him several times a week. He looked happy and content. I rode him several times while he was there and while I was kinda nervous, I was so excited to ride my very own beautiful boy, I choked my fears back and carried on.
Sabi came home Labor Day weekend that year (2006) and the next time I tried to ride him it was a disaster. He would not go forward, he would not obey. Nothing. I tried several more times. I called the trainer, who gave me some advice. I tried what was suggested and it did not work. I became deeply fearful of riding Sabi. In despair, I gave up.
To be continued...
